#... I don't care there's no point getting in my head about it
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mywritersmind · 18 hours ago
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pookieeee how are youuu 💗 I'm in NEED of a Franco fic where the reader is João Félix's little sister...
So she obvi speaks Portuguese and English (maybe some Italian in there too) butttt unlike her brother her Spanish is rusty. So when reader drags her brother (and of course some of the guys from the team) to support her best friend at a race, he's listening in to every little comment Franco makes about her in Spanish and trying to subtly give hints to reader that he likes her, and of course some good brother teasing! Just hardcore fluff, friend pining and good old family banter!
HE CAN UNDERSTAND - FC43
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listen up : i used google translate don’t come for me. not proofread! super cute and fluffy! loved this request sorry if i didng execute it well😭
word count : 2281
⋆。‧˚⋆
“Franco!” I jump into my best friends arms as he laughs. The moment I asked for three Grand Prix tickets, he sent them over immediately and went on a rant of how excited he was to see me.
“Y/n!” He grins widely at me, “I’m so happy you’re here!” He's in his race suit, his hair messy and extra wavy. I run my hand through it, fixing it a bit.
“You’re a mess.” I laugh as he pushes my hand away and rolls his eyes, “Oh!” I suddenly remember that my brother is standing behind me. “This is my brother, João! I can’t believe you two haven’t met!” I smile at both of them as my brother shakes Franco’s hand.
Oddly professional for someone he knows I love. “Nice to finally meet you. Y/n never shuts up about you.” I slightly blush at his words as Franco lets out a laugh.
“Good to know…” Franco gives us a mini tour. I'm so beyond happy for him. This has been his dream since forever, the first time I met him he even jokingly flirted and said I could be a WAG.
Franco is charming and hilarious so my brother likes him instantly. We end up in the William’s garage, everyone scrambling around and talking in languages I can’t understand.
Since it’s race day, i’m genuinely surprised Franco had the time to see us. Especially since Qualifying was earlier today.
But my best friend works in magical ways.
⋆༺
FRANCO
I watch Y/n talk to Alex’s girlfriend. I watch as her hair flows down her back and her hand covers her mouth as she laughs. “So,” João turns to me, sort of intimidating for his height but so far I think he approves of me. “You’ve known Y/n for a while, huh?”
I nod, “Yeah, she hasn't been able to shake me yet.” He laughs, nodding his head.
“You care about her?” Why do I feel like i’m getting interrogated?
I nod, “Of course. She’s my best friend.”
“I mean as more than a friend.”
I laugh uncomfortably, joking with him, “Are you asking me my intentions?” He does not find this funny. I clear my throat and breathe out, “We’re just friends.”
Y/n comes skipping back over to us. I’ve always been taught to not lie, but i’m not about to confess that I like her to fucking brother.
“J, you’ve got to see his car!” She takes his arm and pulls him away, “You coming, Fran?”
I’m about to follow after them but my engineer taps my shoulder, “Gimmie one second! Don't touch anything, Y/n, I know how you are!”
She gives me one of her signature smiles, making my pulse quicken and my smile falter. I catch her brother giving me an odd look before I sit up and wave.
I turn to my engineer who’s smiling, big, “Dios mío, te estás sonrojando.” (My god, you’re blushing.) I roll my eyes at him, turning to see Y/n point to my car and start asking questions to someone in blue.
“¡Cállate por favor!” (Shut up please!) Her Spanish is more than rusty. I've tried to teach her some but she gets distracted and she always ends up persuading me into something different. Still, it’s weird talking about her when she’s right there.
“Vamos, ¡te gusta! Es la forma en que la miras... como si fuera el sol.” (Come on, you like her! It’s the way you look at her… like she’s the sun.) I push his shoulder at his words. Christ, is it that obvious?
“Actúas como si fuera un cachorrito enamorado.” (You act like i’m some lovesick puppy)
“¡Porque lo eres! Siempre hablas de ella, tu pantalla de bloqueo es ella, ¡siempre le estás enviando mensajes de texto! Admítelo.” (Because you are! You always talk about her, your lock screen is her, you are always texting her! Just admit it.)
I cross my arms at him, not daring to glance back at her. “No voy a arruinar mi relación con ella…” I shake my head and tease him, “¡Ahora vuelve a trabajar!” (I’m not ruining my relationship with her… now get back to work!)
I join Y/n and João again, smiling and doing my duty as a tour guide. João gives me another weird look and i’m hoping it’s not because i’m losing his trust. I know i’m not her boyfriend, but I still want him to like me.
They are soon asked to step into the visitors area as I warm up for the race. Y/n kisses my cheek before she goes, “Good luck, Fran. Be careful!” I know my cheeks are red but all I can focus on is her so close to me, her lips on my cheek.
I nod, “Thank you. Have fun watching.” I wink at her and turn, getting ready.
⋆༺
YOU
“I’m so nervous! It’s so rainy!” I bite my lip as the cars go out on track in a second formation lap. The race hasn’t even started and someone’s already out!
My brother eyes me, he’s been acting weird all day and I hate it. He suddenly turns to me, “You don’t like Franco?”
It catches me off guard, “Uh… of course I do?” He rolls his eyes.
“I mean can you see yourself with him? I think you’d be cute.” I laugh out loud.
“João, when have you ever wanted me to date someone?” Especially Franco. I mean, maybe i’ve thought about it.
Okay maybe I've fantasized about it… a lot.
But what am I supposed to do? Confess to my best friend who’s always been there for me that I think he’s irresistible and criminally hot? No.
“I just think if you’re gonna date anyone… He’s a good option.” My cheeks heat as I shake my head, “You’re blushing! Come on, Y/n, why not?”
“Just shut up, the race is starting!”
The next time he brings it up is at a yellow flag, “He’s definitely nicer than your ex.” I give him a death glare and attempt to tune him out, “And who did you go crying to after he broke your heart….?” Franco. The answer is Franco because he’s always there.
It’s been hard recently because of his races, but he’s constantly texting or calling me. I think he just wants someone to gossip with.
“Again, he’s my friend. Just because you have a girlfriend now doesn’t mean you know everything!”
“No but I know everything about you, and you don’t look at your other friends like that.” I hate that stupid smug smile on his face. And I hate that he’s right.
My stomach drops when Franco goes into the wall. I grab onto my brother's arm who doesn’t look concerned at all and more happy that i’m so worried! I slap his arm, “You have no empathy!”
I cross my arms, biting my lip as I watch him exit the car. Thank god he’s okay.
Franco gives me a small thumbs up when he’s back in the garage. I can tell he’s absolutely gutted, the air is awkward and thick with tension since Franco’s crash meant that the whole team's weekend is over.
The race is long and honestly scary. Still, all I can think about is Franco.
Maybe this weekend, his attention to me, my brothers comments, and how Franco’s been looking at me, has finally sealed what I've been dreading.
I’ve known I like him for a while, but I don’t want to ruin us. I can’t be embarrassed by my closest friend!
I’m not an idiot, I see how he flirts with interviewers or even fans. Part of me wants to believe that’s just his personality, but the other part is screaming at me that he doesn’t like me.
His eyes though, he looks at me so deeply that sometimes I feel like I'm apart of some big trick.
“Hey,” My brother nudges me, “Race is over.” I snap out of whatever daze I was in and nod, “I gotta pee, go talk to Franco!”
When I look to where he points, Franco’s already looking at me. His race suit is unzipped and he looks so tired. “Hi.” He smiles softly but I can tell it’s forced.
“Sorry your first race with me sucked.” He frowns, leaning against the little barrier from the garage and friends and family.
“Hey…” I touch his arm briefly, “It did not suck! And It’s not your fault. It was scary though…”
His eyes look sad and I know it’s not just because he crashed. Franco feels so deeply and this weekend has been especially hard for him. I can tell he sees the worry on my face, “I'm really really happy you’re here. We’re getting dinner later, right?”
I go to the hotel with João first. We change and meet back at the restaurant. “I’m so hungry!” I groan as we sit down, Franco said he would be here soon but I am not above ordering early.
João sits across from me, “Gotta wait for your boyfriend.”
I eye him, “You better not say anything in front of Franco. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.” He laughs a bit.
“I really don’t think I will.” He’s so ominous today. “I can tell i’m making you uncomfortable though. My only question is… why?”
“Why?”
“Why can’t you accept that you like him? He’s obviously not going to turn you down. He’s practically got hearts in his eyes when he talks to you.” The waiter brings water which I gulp down immediately.
“I- No! I can’t like him. He’s my friend.”
“So you’ve said… but the best relationships start out that way.” Why is he pushing this so much?
“I just… I don’t want to ruin our relationship.”.
“Funny…” he mumbles something, “That's what he said too.” but I can’t hear him because Franco sits and starts saying hello.
Our dinner is amazing, the food is perfect and I can’t stop laughing at Franco and João. “You’ve gotta come to a match sometime!” My brother laughs, “The team would love you.”
Franco grins, “I would be honored! Y/n always talks about your games, you’re pretty good apparently.” This boosts my brother's ego far too much and we end the night while talking about football and childhood stories.
“He always teased me with his friends!” I roll my eyes at the memory, “They were all learning Spanish in highschool so I never understood them!”
Franco laughs as João shakes his head, “Why didn’t you take spanish in highschool?”
“I did! I just never caught on. Plus João became fluent after school anyway so his schooling barely helped.” I shrug as Franco’s expression turns odd.
He blinks, looking to João, “You’re fluent?”
“Si.” He looks almost smug about it as Franco nods slowly, swallowing.
“Así que escuchaste…” (So you heard…)
“Todo.” (Everything) Franco’s smile drops completely at my brothers words. But my brother still carries on with a smile, “Eres muy obvio, pero lo apoyo.” (You’re very obvious, but I support it.)
I frown at their communication that I can’t understand, “Okay, can you two stop gossiping? I’m ready to leave.” Franco smiles at me, nodding slowly as we stand.
Our walk back to the hotel is short and luckily no fans interrupt it. The warmth of the inside makes me smile and the ding of the elevator makes me yearn for my bed.
“Uh, Y/n?” I look back at Franco as he talks, “Could I speak to you for a moment…” I look at my brother who nods, a smile still on his face as he disappears behind the elevator doors. “Let’s go outside.”
It’s no longer raining so we venture out into the hotel's garden. It’s beautiful with tall plants and trees, a small path that we walk on, and flowers that I've never seen before.
“What did you walk to talk to me about?” I turn to him, he looks oddly scared and a bit chilly. He starts to speak but then closes his mouth and thinks, “Franco…?”
“I like you.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, I freeze, “I really like you and not just as a friend… like way more than that.”
I blink, “You’re kidding?”
The panic on his face is immediate, “No?”
“Shit. Okay!” I realize i’m so caught up in my own world that he probably thinks I don’t like him, “I feel the same.”
He breathes out, stepping closer, “You fucking scared me.”
I smile, not believing this is even real, “You really like me? Because my brother has been making me feel delusional all day!” He takes my hand in his and I swear my heart skips a beat.
“He heard me talking about you in spanish…” I raise a brow, “My engineer was teasing me and I didn’t know he spoke it!” I laugh, shaking my head at his story, “But I'm glad he did. I probably would be sitting in my room all alone if he hadn't.”
I grip his hand tighter, stepping closer, “I’m really glad too. I didn’t want to ruin anything but fuck I really like you.”
He grins and leans in, He paused before I nod. Franco presses a kiss to my lips softly, “I can’t believe you have a crush on me.” I whisper as groans and rolls his eyes, trying to walk away.
“No! No taking it back now!” I laugh, pulling him back to me, my hand going to his neck and my lips meeting his, “You’re stuck with me now.”
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taeyongdoyoung · 2 days ago
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wicked game
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summary: you try to seduce the unpopular virgin to win a bet with your stepbrother. your stepbrother wants to sleep with you and you want his car. but the virgin guy has more to offer... pairing: loser virgin!haechan x popular girl!reader genre: angst, romance, smut, high school setting warnings: the bet trope my beloved, manipulative stepbrother!jeno, ex-boyfriend!mark, innapropriate groping in school, one non-consensual cheek kiss, past man-eater y/n, lowkey corruption kink, lots of kissing, handjob, blowjob, eating out, attachment issues, protected sex (unbelievable), classmates to lovers, non-consensual photo-taking, breakfast in bed, break-up, no pain no gain author's note: this is loosely based on the movie Cruel Intentions minus the dying part; disclaimer: this is a work of fiction, i don't actually think Jeno is an A-hole, i just needed such a character for the sake of the plot word count: 3.7k
You're bored. Being the most popular, prettiest and richest girl in high school is not enough to satisfy your greed. Boys are literally throwing themselves at you in every corner. It's almost too easy. You want a challenge. Something to make the last year of school a memorable one. Something fun.
So, when your stepbrother Jeno presents you with an idea, you accept it eagerly.
"If you're so bored, why don't I propose a bet?"
"What kind of a bet?" you eye him curiously.
"See that guy Haechan? I heard he's a virgin and saving himself for his one ~true love~. How fucking pathetic is that?"
"So? What is it to me?" you scoff, though you already have a feeling where this is going.
"If you manage to seduce that fucking loser, I'll give you my Jaguar."
"Oh, that's very tempting," you smirk. "And if I don't?"
"Then, you'll sleep with me," Jeno whispers in your ear.
"Ew, as if. You're my brother," you make a gagging motion.
"Stepbrother," Jeno points out.
"Still, it's gross," you shake your head.
"Are you scared you'll lose?" Jeno sticks his tongue out.
"I haven't agreed to the bet yet," you answer.
But Jeno knows you too well. You are already thinking of ways to ruin that poor boy Haechan.
You approach him that same day, sitting on the empty seat on his desk. Asking him to do homework together...
"Why would I want to spend time with you?" Haechan spits out.
Ouch. Little one is too feisty for a regular loser. This might be more interesting than you initially thought.
"Why not? If you hang out with me, people will think you're cool," you try to attack where you believe it'll sting.
"So? Popularity isn't everything, you know?" Haechan rolls his eyes. "Besides, people who peak in high school spend the rest of their lives leading a mediocre, non-satisfying existence."
Damn. Pretty harsh. You didn't anticipate this would be so difficult. Oh well, all the more motivation to try harder.
"You admit it, then? That I'm at my peak right now," you smile flirtatiously, running a finger across his face.
"It doesn't matter to me where you think you are," Haechan glares at you, grabbing your finger and removing it from his skin. "As long as you get out of my face."
Gee, so aggressive.
"Did I ever do something to you?"
"No, but you messed with my best friend Mark's head. Leading him to believe you cared for him and then ditching him is so not cool. Now, piss off," Haechan grunts angrily.
You don't even remember half of the names of the guys you slept with. But you do remember Mark. He was really sweet. And if you could feel something at all, it would have been guilt. But back when you were with Mark, your mother had just announced she's getting re-married to Jeno's father. So, you were angry at everyone and everything. And you took it all out on Mark.
"Well, I can't change the past, so don't blame me without knowing the circumstances."
"It doesn't matter anyway. Mark found a girl much better than you who's treating him right."
"What about you? Got someone special taking care of you?" you touch him again, this time more forward and shameless, trying to elicit a reaction out of him. Sneaking your hand underneath the desk and caressing him fondly.
"It's n-none of your b-business," Haechan stammers but he doesn't remove your hand this time. Oh, he's so touch-starved this is going to be a lot of fun. For you.
"I could take care of you, you know? Turn all your wildest dreams into reality."
"I know what you are," Haechan shakes his head.
"A vampire!" you gasp in mock surprise.
"Ha-ha, very funny," Haechan fakes a smile. "You're a man-eater. You fuck around with guys and then you leave them to rot. I want nothing to do with you."
"Really? Then, why haven't you removed my hand yet?" you remind him, though perhaps you shouldn't have.
Haechan grabs your wrist, pushing you away firmly.
"You're wrong, you know," you try to convince him of your sincerity. "I'm just as eager to find someone who loves me. Someone worth staying for."
"And what, you expect me to believe that someone is me?" Haechan stares at you sceptically.
"Let's find out, shall we?" you give him a quick kiss on the cheek before he can escape.
And then, you let him be. Enough torture for day one.
You start interacting with Haechan every day. During the first month, you are consumed with thoughts of Jeno's bet. The abominable idea of sleeping with your stepbrother is enough to keep you going. Of course, you know he's not gonna force you into it. But you need the motivation to not lose the bet anyway. The gorgeous car is also pretty seductive.
During the second month, you are consumed with thoughts of Haechan. You begin to realize how lovely, clever and funny he is. And the fact he's even letting you spend time with him is enough to make you happy. You're no longer bored. Because everyday you have something fun to look forward to. You spend time at the school library, doing homework together, occasionally sending memes to each other. You go on little walks and picnics at the park. You even go to the cinema a couple of times, bonding over your shared love for horror movies.
During the third month, the miracle happens. Haechan decides he trusts you enough to invite you over to his place one evening. He even makes the point of notifying you that his parents aren't home. What does he mean by that? Is this an opportunity for you to finally seduce him?
Naturally, you don't get much homework done, before Haechan starts kissing you out of nowhere. You kiss him back eagerly.
"W-what are you doing?" you ask as you notice Haechan has started unbuttoning his jeans.
"I t-thought you wanted this. S-sorry," Haechan looks down, feeling ashamed all of a sudden. He's in a hurry to zip himself again. God, you feel so cruel.
"I d-do," you admit, no longer giving a shit about that stupid bet. "But I don't want to rush you into anything you're not ready for."
"So, you've heard about what I said at that fucking party?"
"What did you say?" you ask, even though you have an idea of what it involves.
"That I'm saving it for someone special," It being his virginity, you suppose. "Someone who loves me. To be honest, I was really drunk that night. I don't care all that much anymore."
"It's okay to have your principles, Haechan," you try to reassure him and stroke his soft hair gently. "I think it's pretty admirable, actually."
Haechan shakes his head, visibly disagreeing.
"Well, it's fine. I'm ready for this, I promise. Just...don't leave right after, okay?" he pouts.
"Oh, Haechan, of course I won't leave," you reply and surprise yourself in that you really mean it.
Kissing him deeper, you finish what he started and take off his jeans. You touch his cock softly, as if it's the most precious thing in the world. You've done this hundreds of time with guys you didn't give a fuck about and felt nothing, the actions methodical and quick. But this, right now, is more special than your limited vocabulary could ever describe. You realize you genuinely don't want to hurt him. You bow down and envelop your lips around his length. He gets hard easily, considering it's his first time. You suck on him a couple of times and he cums even faster than you anticipated. But for some reason, it's never tasted sweeter.
"S-sorry," Haechan mumbles shyly.
"It's okay, my sweet boy," you coo in his ear, after you're done swallowing his cum. You run your hands through his hair once again. God, it's so silky. You could never get enough of him.
"W-what do I d-do now?" he asks cutely.
"Whatever you want, mon ange," you kiss him once more.
"C-can I eat you out?" Haechan inquires.
Oh, so virgin boy is not so clueless, after all.
"Sure, I guess," you shrug. Not really a huge fan of that, the few times guys have offered, they quickly grow tired of it and could never make you cum as hard as you could by yourself. But it's okay. If Haechan wants to...
"Just...guide me, okay?" he pleads adorably and soon, you find out he needs no guidance at all.
What he lacks in experience, he definitely makes up for with enthusiasm. He seems so eager to please you, licking and biting and kissing your pussy that you cum faster than you have in...well, ever, actually. You grip his hair for support, panting and chanting his name like a prayer.
"Was that alright?" Haechan feigns a self-conscious smile, though judging by your reaction, his smile is already turning into a proud smirk. That bastard.
"Are you kidding? It was...out of this world," you say honestly. Funny thing about honesty is how something that used to be so difficult for you comes so easily to you when you're with Haechan.
"Glad to hear," he grins widely. You want to kiss him every second till the rest of your life. The thought terrifies you.
"I s-should go," you try to get up. You can't do this. You can't be the one to take his virginity. Considering how this all started. It'd be too cruel. He should be with someone special, someone loves him more than anything, someone who'd never hurt him.
"W-what, w-why?" Haechan asks, grabbing your wrist in a panic, not wanting to let go. "I thought you liked me."
"I do like you. I like you so much. That's the problem."
"It doesn't have to be," Haechan disagrees, pushing you back on the bed. "Please, let me."
And here you thought you'd be the one begging him to have sex with you.
"O-okay," you can no longer find it in yourself to deny him. To deny your growing feelings...
Haechan digs through his jeans and pulls out a condom. His hands are shaking and he's having a hard time putting it on so you help him and pull him out of his misery. You give him a soft, reassuring smile, paired with a quick squeeze of his hand. He smiles back just as fondly.
And then he slides inside you so easily. As if he belongs there. As if he's meant to be yours. You kiss him desperately to distract yourself from the truth. To hide the tears that are threatening to come out.
"You f-feel so g-good," Haechan grunts in your ear.
"So do you, baby," you admit sincerely.
This time around, he lasts longer, fucking you until your release comes for the second time. He cums right after, with his hands touching your cheeks, his lips on your neck and his heart on his sleeve.
"Wanna stay inside you forever," he whispers once it's over.
"That wouldn't be very practical," you chuckle. Though you would like nothing more.
But he gets up to get rid of the condom and then comes back, hugging you tightly.
"Can you be my girlfriend?" Haechan blurts out. "I know you probably don't like clingy guys but...considering you've been pursuing me for the past three months, I thought..."
"I'll be your girlfriend," you agree rightaway, not giving a shit about the consequences. "Of course, I will."
He laughs, the sound so precious and filled with joy it breaks your heart.
Maybe he never has to know how it all began. Maybe you could hide it from him forever. Maybe...you could allow yourself to be happy. Just this once.
Soon, Haechan falls asleep, feeling comfortable around you. You know what you have to do, but you feel like shit anyway. You secretly take a picture of his half-naked figure sleeping soundly. You sigh quietly and send the photo to your stepbrother Jeno.
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Then, you put your phone down, trying to forget about the whole ordeal. You cuddle up next to Haechan and enjoy his warmth until you fall asleep.
The next morning, you wake up before Haechan and quickly run out to make him some breakfast. You have no idea when his parents will be home but you don't want this to be their first impression of you. So, you leave the breakfast on Haechan's nightstand with a little note.
See you at school, boyfriend! XOXO, Y/N.
Rushing back home, you are satisfied when Jeno gives you the car keys to his Jaguar without protesting. Your stepbrother may be kinda freaky, but at least he's a man of his word. What gives you the creeps is the slight smirk on his face as he hands you the keys. As if he didn't lose the bet. As if he's the winner.
You try not to think about it too much, as you get dressed for school, excited to see Haechan again. You still can't believe he asked you to be his girlfriend. That pretty, sweet boy makes you so unbelievably happy. You look forward to spending more moments in his sunny company.
Haechan wakes up to the smell of warm pancakes, covered with chocolate and strawberries and accompanied by coffee. It immediately brings a smile on his face, which only becomes wider as he sees the little note you left him. He giddily enjoys the breakfast and then rushes to get dressed for school. You're his girlfriend! He's never had a girlfriend and he's so pleased you're being so nice to him. Maybe you really are better than people say and all that past drama was just everyone being jealous of your beauty and popularity...This is going to be the best day of his life.
But when he gets to school, everything changes. He knows that he's considered one of the "losers" in the hierarchy but usually people just ignore him and don't pay attention to him. He's fine with that, really! But today, whenever he walks by, people are snickering and whispering something. It feels so weird and makes him uncomfortable. He can't quite hear what they're saying and this kind of unexpected treatment is killing him.
He goes to his friend Mark to ask him what's up.
"Bro...I don't know how to tell you this," Mark looks away, as if the thing is so bad he can't even say it.
Haechan impatiently begs him to just enlighten him as to why everyone is giving him weird looks all day.
Mark sighs and shows him a secreenshot. There, he sees a photo of himself, half-naked and sleeping soundly. Fuck, that's from last night. And what the messages between you and your stepbrother Jeno reveal...shocks Haechan out of his senses. No...no way it was just a bet. No way you spent three months courting him for a fucking car?! This can't be true. It's gotta be Photoshopped or something.
"Listen, buddy, I warned you that she likes messing with guys and then leaving them."
"No, she...she really seemed to care about me," Haechan is still in denial as his vision becomes blurred with tears.
He runs away, unable to believe what is happening. He needs to speak to you. Hear it from your own lips. To be sure this is real and not just a sick joke.
When he finally finds you, he grabs your wrist as he did just yesterday. But this time, he's not doing to get you to stay. But because he's furious.
"Is it true? Did you really make a bet with Jeno on whether you can fuck me? Did you seriously do all of that over a car?!"
Your facial expressions are enough of an answer. Guilt. Something you never thought you were capable of.
"H-haechan, I swear I can explain," you beg him to hear you out.
"Explain? How can you explain that?" Haechan shakes his head, letting go of your hand. You try to touch him again but he shoves you off furiously.
"It was just a bet at the very beginning. But somewhere along the way, I really started having feelings for you, I promise," you cry passionately. "I don't care about the car, I'll fucking thrash it, I just wanted to get Jeno off my back."
Haechan takes a step back, feeling so betrayed. So...used.
"Whatever you say, I don't think I can believe you anymore. Was it fun, at least? Was this all just a wicked game to you?"
"N-no, it wasn't, I swear it," you are bawling at this point, feeling so pitiful. You don't care if the whole school sees. You only care that Haechan understands. You never meant things to go this far... "I truly care about you, Haechan."
"Yeah?" he scoffs, annoyed. "You only care about yourself."
And with that he leaves. And you lose the one person you truly, genuinely loved.
This is the worst day of your life.
Throughout the rest of the school year you don't dare approach him again. You know you fucked up so badly. You can't even look at that stupid car, let alone consider driving it, so you sell it. Partly because you're angry at Jeno for spreading the screenshot around the whole school. Partly because you no longer want to have anything that will remind you of the biggest mistake you ever made.
With the money you get for the car and some of your own savings, you secretly sponsor Haechan, Mark and their other friends' singing club. You don't even want Haechan to find out. It just...feels right. They could use the extra help.
As the final year of school nears its end, you begin to imagine a future where you never get to see Haechan again. At least, during the past couple of months you had the privilege of looking at him from a distance. But the idea of a world with no Haechan is like a world with no sun.
So, you decide you have to do something as soon as possible. He doesn't have to forgive you or accept you as a girlfriend again. You just want to be in his life in some form.
As you approach the school's radio booth, you feel all the bad things of your past coming back to bite you in the ass. Maybe you deserve to be forever alone. But you need to give it a try. It's your last chance.
"Hi, Mark," you greet your ex-boyfriend.
"What do you want, Y/N?" he sighs, not at all happy to see you.
"Before I get to that, let me just say how sorry I am for the way I treated you in the past. I'm really happy you're finally with someone who appreciates you for how totally awesome you are."
"That's...unexpectedly nice of you to say," Mark eyes you suspiciously. "We were never right for each other anyway. So, what do you want?"
"I want to apologize to Haechan. Through a message broadcasted to the whole school..."
"Gee, and you couldn't do it the old-fashioned way, face to face?" Mark jokes.
"Haechan doesn't wanna see me," you say, fully convinced.
"How would you know without trying?" Mark asks. Has...Haechan told him something? No, you couldn't allow yourself to hope.
"I just know, okay? Please, let me do this. We're graduating in one week, this might be my last chance to talk to Haechan."
Mark nods, agreeing.
"Five minutes," he takes off his headphones and vacates the seat in the radio booth for you.
"Thank you! I mean it," you have never been more grateful for anything.
Mark shrugs as if it's not a big deal and leaves you to it.
"I want to dedicate this so someone I hurt," you speak into the microphone. "Someone who didn't deserve it. Someone very dear to me. Someone I still care deeply about. Haechan, I'm so incredibly sorry, please, give me another chance."
And you start singing.
The world was on fire and no one could save me but you It's strange what desire will make foolish people do I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you
Your voice is off-key a couple of times and halfway through the song you start crying inconsolably, all the guilt and pain consuming you. The whole school is probably laughing at you but you can no longer bring yourself to care. The only thing that matters is that Haechan hears this.
When you finish the song, you leave the radio booth and are surprised to find Haechan right outside the door, willing to talk to you.
"H-haechan," you stammer and barely resist the urge to give him a hug. You don't want him to feel pressured or anything.
"I'll give you a second chance on one condition. I want Jeno's Jaguar," Haechan jokes.
"Too bad, I already sold it and donated the money to your music club so you guys can get new instruments and stuff."
"YOU DID WHAT?!" Haechan exclaims. He doesn't sound angry, though, just...shocked.
"Sorry, sorry, I know it wasn't my place. But it was so unfair the football team and the cheerleading team get so much money but no one cares about the arts."
"Okay, okay, I guess this is better than that ugly car," Haechan chuckles. The car is not ugly. Not even a little bit. But you appreciate Haechan all the more for saying that.
"Can you really forgive me?" you ask desperately, eyes still watery.
"I can forgive you but I'll probably never forget," Haechan admits with a sigh. "If you break my trust again..."
"I won't, I swear!" you vow seriously. "I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you and treating you the way you deserve. You're the best person I've ever met, Haechan. If you'll have me, I want to be around you forever."
"Forever is a long time" Haechan muses out loud. "Considering we're going to college...I don't even know where you're applying."
"I'll go wherever you go," you say hurriedly.
"You can't give up on your dreams just for me, though."
"I'm not. You're my dream, Haechan. You're my sun and I want to be in your orbit. If you'll allow me, that is," you can't take it any longer and hold his hand softly, asking, begging for that second chance not to slip away.
"I'll allow it," Haechan smiles sweetly. "Let's run towards our dreams together, from now on."
"I won't let you down," you promise from the depths of your heart.
And you finally, truly mean it.
The End
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sorryimananti-romantic · 2 days ago
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HAHA YES WELCOME BABES HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR STAY GJFHKDG
not you roasting joong and praising his leadership in one breath fdkghdffkjg
ALSO STUFF YOU FOR POINTING OUT THE SHEEPS i always make that mistake and always catch it and regret it later AHAHAHA
yes dom hongjoong taking it out on the reader in the form of some spicy stuff DID I NOT TELL YOU OOPS (surprise bbygorl)
yes hehe exploiting ppl is like the first thing you must do as an aspiring politician in this era (like how come nothing else ever works) but yes it's really not a yumi fic without some political seasoning hehe
LOOK MY THESIS WAS BORING ASF STAY AT HOME SCENE but a girl can dream right dkfjghjkdf
fr hwa can breathe and i'd be a goner so i don't blame the reader for simping like that AND YES AHAHAHA THE LICKING HIS THUMB TO WIPE YOUR WHATEVER UGH I GOT THAT PICTURE IN MY HEAD. I DIED. I WRITE. :D
yes hehehe the last line thing i got that inspo from love next door they did that with their episode names (pls watch love next door)
RIGHT LIKE HOW THE STARS ALIGNED TO MEET THE JEONG YUNHO ON A BLIND DATE I'M SAT I'M READY I DO NOW KISS THE BRIDE
yes omg i basically wrote you (keep dreaming)
omg but real i do that sometimes too with the scale and hand measuring how can i not man his hand is so big ugh i cannot
YES this is basically guerrilla 2.0 bc i literally could not be bothered to come up with anything else i'm so sorry but also it's really really fun to write him as a sunshine serial killer and YES THOSE QUOTES he's literally the sun how could i not :'))
omg thank you for appreciating yeo's moodboard :D it really is fitting right? i can imagine him in a medical setting perfectly, preferable in a darker medical setting like this one
omg thank you for appreciating the characterisation too maybe i'll make this a separate fic one day LOL but yes we stan a man who still cares, even when he's uh killing ppl (FOR THE GREATER GOOD)
i said it before i say it again, there cannot be a yeo fic without chicken mention. if that happens with my fic, that's not me. that's an impostor.
LOL NOT YOU WAITING FOR ANOTHER PLOT TWIST WHEN THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE A SHORT CUTE LITTLE SCENARIO have i traumatised you
RAHHHHHH YES DADDY SAN ANY DAY AND LMAOO doing what ;) what do you think ;) (he sleeps, ofc)
YES SAN A GREEN FLAG AS A RED FLAG SO BASICALLY A... BROWN FLAG?
the woo cameos are very unintentional but he's so side character coded LOL
YES AHHAHAHA EXECUTIONER WHO THIS IS JUST THE CHOI SAN WE KNOW AND YES YOU LIKE HOW I THINK RIGHT HE REALLY IS A GREEN FLAG
hmm you're craving royal mingi fics? time to write my royal beauty and the beast au break who we don't get breaks in this household loren has wished for a royal au and her wish is my command-
AHAHAHAHA this may be the first time she gets called song's girl but you bet that's all she's gonna be called from now
LMAO YES WOOYO BEING THE SAME PIECE OF SHIT I MAKE HIM EVERY TIME AHAHAHAHA HE'S SUCH A LOVEABLE BRAT
i almost made him a pyromaniac and made reader a firefighter but i guess i can do that some other day 😔✌️
LOL AHAHAHAHA idk what's with me and writing woo e2l smutty fics it just hits every time hehehehe
MONSTER OF CAPITALISM SHOULD HAVE BEEN HIS TITLE FR AND YES ITS CEO X CEO RIVALS AU
bruh when i tell you i thought i wrote turns tables and went to double check AFTER writing the correct phrase clown energy fr
YES OMG idk what it's about jongho but he's so daddy coded and when he says terms like darling or sweetheart you bet it's gonna hit 100x harder
you really are colourblind to red babes idk AHAHAHAHAHA but yes if it's jongho *gets down on my knees* yessir
THANK YOU SO MUCH BABES NGL it was scary to write this without you validating every trope and every plot LMAO and i was worrying if this felt half-assed but it turned out okay :') BUT YES. BREAK. MUCH NEEDED MUCH DESERVED BREAK I'M FREEE
thank you so much for your support babes <33
Ateez as Villains
disclaimer: read at your own risk. do not interact if not comfortable with any tropes. reminder that this is a work of fiction and must be treated so. 
warnings: absolutely no morals here, 18+ mdni, illegal acts (abduction, murder, physical abuse, stalking, trafficking, financial crimes, dirty politics, corruption), suggestive/nsfw scenes, explicit language (swearing, insults), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, smoking, drugs, alcohol
a/n: couldn't have done this without @eightmakesonebraincell's and @chronicvagabonds' validation lmao also tribute to tite kubo for coming up with the juiciest dialogues, some of which i quoted here
Hongjoong
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The Manipulator
hongjoong always knew he had leadership skills
from being the team leader whenever he played games as a young child, to growing up and eventually influencing people
he was often told that he has a certain way of pulling people’s attention and leave something stirring inside them with his words
so it is no surprise that hongjoong is where he is today. a renowned businessman, philanthropist and… politician
hongjoong adjusts the sleeves of his shirt and glances at you from the mirror
you are standing behind him, holding his coat for him. he wears it with a proud smile and holds his chin high
“tonight is very important. for me. for this country.” 
he goes on about how there will be people from all over the country
people who are the foundation of this nation. people who care about the future of this world 
and if you weren’t so blinded by the adoration you have for this man you would have called him delusional
but the fact is that you are deluded by him. hongjoong has the ability to cast a spell with his words
he feeds his supporters the lie of a better world in the near future, and they bow to him
hongjoong smiles devilishly at the thought of what entails the events of tonight
he can picture it clearly- the cheers and desperate screams of his followers as he steps on the podium
the cries of these people, as helpless as sheeps in a herd, waiting for an upright politician to save this nation 
he can feel the thrill just imagining what it will be like tonight when he addresses the nation as the new face of his political party
to a common person, he would just be another man with a good heart striving for a better change
but the common person is weak, and for them… he is their salvation
they will hear his words tonight- words he has carefully crafted himself. the cues will register in their minds, and they will end up seeking him to announce their undying support and loyalty, to shower in his glory
you straighten hongjoong’s coat and smooth over his shirt, your hands unsteady with anticipation
“aren’t you happy to be right next to me when i conquer the stage tonight?” he whispers, lifting your chin up
you meet his eyes and he can see his answer there
you hope he doesn’t see the conflict in your eyes. the conflict is to be concealed in your heart, in the deepest, untouchable corner of it
you are blessed, they tell you, to be the politician’s favoured
and you are- you truly are. hongjoong loves you. he adores you
in fact… he’s almost obsessed with you
and why wouldn’t he be? you were the one who led him here
you were the one who held his hand and showed him the right path- his partner, and now his secretary
oh, how you sometimes wish you could turn back the hands of the clock and go back to when hongjoong was hopeless and thought that the world was a wretched place beyond saving
that is when you told him that the only way to run this world was to join hands with the elites of this nation- or to become one
it must be the fates that led him to where he is today
after all, isn’t he a king without a crown? a ruler without a throne?
he is a born leader and a strategist. he has always been good with his words
it’s how he earned the favour and graces of the elites and the politicians and made a place for himself- not under them, but beside them
but to stand beside those people, you have to be a little… corrupt. and morally ambiguous
the world is not run by saints, after all
“sweetheart?” he calls when he sees you are distracted
you don’t miss the warning tone in his voice. tonight, you have to be on your toes
you have to seek out willing supporters and show them that they mean the world to hongjoong and his political party
but more importantly… you need to target other politicians, find their weaknesses and if lucky, have some join hands with you
“i’m here,” you tell him and he nods firmly, pressing a kiss to your temple
“i will see you tonight,” he promises, and you know what he means
he always gets such a thrill out of playing the leader
he gets so much energy, and he has to take it out one way or another
and what better way to take it out in the form of lovemaking?
you feel warmth course through your body as he trails his finger down the middle of your chest purposely
he almost smiles maniacally as he leaves first, giving you a moment to gather your wits
you pour yourself a glass of drink- you can’t possibly do this sober
you join hongjoong as he gives his first speech- a very normal talk about how this nation is on the verge of collapse
corruption, crime, inhumanity, dirty politics? you name it
you admire his resilience, really. whatever he is talking about comes straight from his heart, and he has been talking about these issues for a long time now
you also admire his pompousness and the audacity to talk about dirty politics, when he is the face of dirty politics
you join the audience when they clap for him, your heart full of pride
there is a break where he meets with the high-profile people and asks them to consider joining hands with him
‘to make a better world for the future generations’. such inspiring words from such a young political leader
except hongjoong’s trick is that he always, always has something over them
he has a team dedicated specifically for this task- to dig dirt on his political targets so he can wield them like the blade of a guillotine over their heads
despite his evil means to climb the top, somehow, his image and reputation remains far too clean
and that is because he knows to take these actions behind the scenes, away from any eyes
a true politician, he’s been dubbed
it is about midnight when the hall almost empties, leaving only the members of your party and some new faces- people who are willing to hear him out and decide if they want to join his party
you wish you could tell them that it is a trap- hongjoong will promise that their efforts and support will lead them to something great
‘the greater good’, he always says, except these people do not know what they are getting into
they are merely sacrificial lambs, the stepping stones that will lead hongjoong closer to his utopia
they will, for the sake of loyalty, put a blindfold over their eyes. they will hold him in high reverence as he becomes their lord, their saviour
he will feed them copper pellets and claim that this is the best that they can get while he himself sits on a throne made of gold
and when they empty every last drop of whatever they have to offer- their blood, sweat and tears
hongjoong will discard them without remorse. that is who he is- a master manipulator
when you are done wrapping up the event in the deep, dark hours of the night, hongjoong finds you in your bedroom
his chest is heaving with energy that is threatening to combust from within him
he outstretches his hand and you saunter over to him
his hands are dominating when he holds you, though his kiss is soft and unrushed
until that too becomes scalding hot
he is quick to lead you to the couch where you sit on his lap, finding him painfully hard
he groans loudly and starts to unbuckle his pants, and you instantly know what he wants- you always know what he wants
he easily slides his hard length inside your warmth and groans heavily in relief, resting his head back and just letting you both stay still
you only move to rest your head against his shoulder. he can have you like this for as long as he wants
“we have a lot of new supporters tonight,” he begins, chuckling deeply, “the polls seem to be in our favour too.”
his dark curls caress your face as you snuggle against him
“we also managed to score deals with many influential politicians and businessmen tonight,” he tells you and you look at him with pride as he names them
“soon,” he begins, trailing his hands under your dress and squeezing your thighs, “soon… we will have our people in every sector- in business, healthcare, industrial, courts… we will be controlling the nation- we… we are the leaders of this nation.”
his cock twitches inside you as he finishes that sentence and you bite your lips in thought
“what are you thinking, love?” he asks, caressing your face
“i just sometimes wonder,” you begin- can you admit your bare thoughts to him?
he squeezes your thigh as a sign to go ahead
“i wonder how we got here, joong,” you admit, “you know that we are exploiting people-”
“for the greater good-”
“for the greater good, yes,” you finish, nodding and he furrows his brows in concentration
“these people are just like us. we were once slaves of this society, but now we are the leaders. and they are our slaves. but…”
“they will offer us what they have,” hongjoong replies softly, “and we will make the best out of it. isn’t that right?”
you nod. there is no more space for any more questioning
you have never like the darkness in his eyes when you question his- your- methods
all he knows is that he is right
he knows what he is doing is wrong in essence, but it is about the bigger picture- he is doing this for his nation
and you cannot expect to run a nation claiming to be a saint
the nation is run by wolves, and to make space there, you must be some sort of a predator. that is who he has become
his grip on your thighs tighten and he starts to grind your body on him
between the sounds of pleasure is the groan of pain as he spanks your thighs and remind you of your place
“all you have to do is follow me,” he breathes into your ear, trailing his lips across your cheek. “all you have to do is stay with me. together…” he thrusts hard inside you. “together, we will rule the world one day, you and i.”
you nod and he swallows your moans as he kisses you, thrusting with all his might until you both come crashing down
he takes you to the shower and you both quickly clean up and get in bed
as you watch his figure relax and succumb to sleep, you confess to him
“you are a great politician, hongjoong,” you tell him and the corners of his lips curl in a smile. “i’m just afraid of going too far with you. every day, we learn that we can get worse than we are, yet…”
“yet, it has become my addiction and my duty,” he whispers, hand finding your bare arm and caressing it. “don’t you want to rule the world?”
“you will rule the world. i will be treading on your shadow, following you closely and sharpening my teeth… but afraid.”
“afraid of what?”
“of you,” you breathe and he opens one eye
“you won’t leave me, will you?” he asks innocently, yet it is there- the warning in his tone
you are responsible for who he is today. you are an accomplice
every person he ruins to get closer to the top, you are equally responsible for it
“of course not,” you tell him, “i can’t leave you.”
hongjoong notices your choice of words
you can not leave him- you do not have a choice
he holds you close and kisses you like he means it that night
it would be such a shame if he would have to throw you away after all of this, right? 
it would truly be such a shame if you are just like the others in the end- weak and helpless
since you know exactly what is going on inside hongjoong’s head, you tell him you love him like you really mean it and you let him hold you close
it may be a trap, but you don’t mind being trapped if this is where you end up every night- in his arms
your lord, your saviour
The Manipulator and the Manipulated
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Seonghwa
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Jekyll
park seonghwa is a man who is adored wherever he goes
be it at work- at a prestigious university as a neuroscience professor, dr. park, or at social gatherings, formal or informal
he is a man born with the best manners, the most caring and generous heart
you’ve seen him around the department as a masters student and attended a few of his classes 
but you never got to interact with him personally until it’s time to choose a thesis supervisor and you learn that you have a chance with him
it’s purely because he’s amazing at what he does 
your subfield matches with his specialty so it will be better if he’s your supervisor (and it’s only a bonus that the man is painfully hot so you’ll never be bored)
your professor recommends you to seonghwa and he goes over your synopsis which leaves him intrigued because coincidentally, he’s researching in molecular neuroscience as well
he gladly takes you on because he believes you both will be helping each other along the way
plus, he recognises your name- you’ve always had a different air about you (and he remembers you from somewhere else too)
he’s looking forward to working with you, that’s all
so when you arrive on your first day as his supervisee and research assistant
you catch him in his natural habitat- unaware of his surroundings, humming a tune to himself and swiping his hair hurriedly to the side with the hand that’s holding a clear solution of some sort while struggling not to drop his notes on the table that has a few microscope slides 
basically, moments away from a disaster
he spots you and grunts as if asking for help and you immediately drop your bag to rush towards him, only now noticing that somehow, he’s holding his glasses by his teeth
you first take those out of his mouth and he groans in relief. “can you please help me wear my glasses? those cultures are moments away from expiring.”
“oh goodness,” you mutter and you lock eyes with him as you put on his glasses for him
and your intrusive thoughts take over because you simply cannot take how his hair is poking his eyes so you gently brush his hair out of his eyes
for a moment, time is frozen for all sorts of reasons
before seonghwa takes a deep breath and you blink, immediately getting out of his way and holding his notes for him
the notes apparently hold the readings on how much solution he needs to pour so you read it for him and consequently save him from a disaster
as soon as he is done freezing the cultures, he holds the edge of the table to save himself from slumping in relief
and you share a laugh, the ice breaking just like that
he tells you that the student assigned for taking care of the cultures had an emergency and he had to rush from another department
and he thanks you for helping him
you both move to his office to go over your thesis and he helps you create a timeline
you wrap up the meeting with a clear direction of what’s next and with a schedule of shifts where you will be assisting him
it doesn’t take long to get used to being a part of his team of five calm students with a little streak of crazy
and you suppose dr. park has an eye for people like that because you fit right in
you are all very dedicated so he seems to be at ease when you are working, though he does monitor you more closely since you’re new
you start to spend more time in the lab simply because you like how it feels there
it is like a little cocoon where you can tune out the rest of the world and work on your thesis without distractions (plus, it helps how people from your team pop in once in a while to throw some suggestions at you)
you like how it is there- neat and clean
the sound of metal against metal, glass against glass. the smell of the cleaning agent which calms you since it is something familiar now
and then there’s dr. park himself, gentle and composed, yet at times clumsy and rough which results in the room cackling with laughter
however, there’s a side to him that you only see when you’re alone with him
you’re not sure if he’s like that with everyone- he must be, right?
does he pay as much attention to everyone else as you?
perhaps, you’re delusional. that must be it
seonghwa knows you must think that, because he has not been very obvious but he has not been subtle either
it’s just that he remembers you from that time. he remembers seeing your face in his friend wooyoung’s data
wooyoung, who is an expert at singling out people like them
people like seonghwa who have a little streak of crazy in them, yet manage to be a part of the society almost seamlessly
wooyoung’s company does a good job at managing these people because they ultimately help the black market grow
seonghwa is half convinced wooyoung’s company is just a faction of the government but of course he can’t confirm that
all he knows is that he cannot act out too much and get caught
in return, he knows when someone like him is in his radar
here you are, glasses perched on the tip of your nose as you examine different slides under the microscope, muttering to yourself about the readings as your scribble them
he can’t help but notice how you always wear that one specific shade of deep red on your lips or how your hair falls in the most irresistible way in front of your face
he’s never looked at a student this way- ever- but you’re not just a student now, are you?
so when he makes his move, approaching you from behind as silently as he can
he’s not disappointed when you turn- he didn’t make a sound, yet you knew
you’re not even surprised, and that excites seonghwa to no end
“ah, dr. park,” you go casually, as if him sneaking behind you was normal behaviour. “can you approve of these hypotheses?”
seonghwa hums and stands awfully close to you, your sides brushing against each other
he purposely crowds in your personal space as he leans in to confirm the readings of the specimens on the table
“everything’s perfect,” he announces, meeting your eyes
you’re still sitting so you have to look up at him and lord. what a sight he is even from this angle. you could totally get used to it-
“what are you looking at, sweetheart?” seonghwa smirks knowingly 
you have to physically struggle to maintain your composure because you are pretty sure you were gawking
“nothing, just zoned out,” you say, which isn’t a lie but not the whole truth either
he knows though. he knows the effect he has on you because he hasn’t been subtle
from the casual touches to the unnecessary (but not undeserved) praise
from the prolonged eye contact to the suggestive smirks
there is something electric between the two of you, an undeniable tension
and while you’re not one who sticks to the rules, you can’t help but wonder just why is dr. park playing with you?
“you sure you’re okay?” seonghwa leans in and searches your eyes for any signs of lies
upon finding none but gaining satisfaction from the way your lips part in surprise, he draws back 
you try your best not to make things awkward for the rest of the time you’re with him
and in the following days, his advances only start becoming stronger in nature
you like the attention he gives you. you like how he always puts his hands on your shoulders and gives them a little squeeze whenever he finds you sitting
you like the way his warm breath caresses your cheek when you’re both sitting side by side inspecting a specimen
you enjoy the sound of his gentle voice as he instructs you
it’s almost as if he knows. it’s almost as if he’s asking for it
does he not know that once you become obsessed with something, you’ll try- no, you will possess it at all costs?
so one night when you’re both working at late hours, busy with wrapping up one section of your thesis
you can’t take it when seonghwa scolds you teasingly for being clumsy 
“you’ve got pen on your chin,” he says and before you can take care of it, he himself scoots closer-
too close for it to be professional anymore because at this point, he can probably count the freckles on your face too-
and begins to rub at your the skin near your lips gently
he frowns when it doesn’t come off, and then he has the audacity to lick his thumb and rub your skin again
“dr. park,” you mutter, about to remind him how you are supposed to be a teacher and student
you’re not friends (despite the very friendly relationship you have developed with him)
seonghwa only hums and you can’t help but notice how he stifles a smirk as he moves his thumb to your lower lip and swipes it, all the while maintaining eye contact
you raise a brow in challenge, silently questioning why he’s still holding your chin
he leans in as if to kiss you and you stop breathing
except he tilts his head to whisper in your ear
“would you like to attend the next soul society meeting with me, love?”
to say that you freeze is an understatement
you don’t move when his lips caress your cheeks as he stays in that position
you don’t move when he purposely trails his lips along your cheek as he draws back
“what’s your classification?” you manage to ask, your voice barely a whisper
the way seonghwa smirks is something you’ll never forget
“jekyll,” he says. “nice to meet you, hyde.”
there’s a moment of silence where all you can do is stare at the man in front of you
a moment of pure static
as soon as you take off your mask and your lips curl in a smirk, it happens
you don’t know who took the first step but you’re both kissing each other
it’s rushed, passionate and desperate, the air filling with your grins and giggles and you’re only glad you’re not in the lab right now because the way seonghwa clears the table with a swipe of his hand, making the notes fall on the ground
only to lift you up and seat you there so he can kiss you better? being in the lab would have done some damage alright
between kisses, you learn how seonghwa recognised you
you ask him if he lured you here somehow, but he tells you it’s just luck that you’re here as his student right now. you don’t quite believe him though
but you let it be- if he’s jekyll, that means he’s got the brains to scheme
he tells you that he’s glad to have found his hyde because he would prefer someone else to do his dirty work for him
you agree- it’s been far too long since you’ve had an adventure, and you’ve heard about the notorious jekyll in the soul society too. you just never connected the dots
he takes you to his private lab (not before feasting on you and fucking you on that very table)
for the next few weeks, you familiarise yourself with his actual research
mind altering chemicals and drugs, anything to do with control
very illegal stuff, but the soul society funds him with whatever he needs
he can’t believe he found you- you’re perfect for him
seonghwa believes he has morals and he can be a good person
so you make the perfect partner because you can be the bad person in his stead
you’re his alter ego, the voice in his head that he never lets come out
you’re the person who not only matches his freak but helps bring it into manifestation. you are now his face
while he advances in molecular neuroscience in the world, you advance, on his behalf, in the underworld
there’s no blood on your hands- you both only produce drugs. you’re not responsible for what is done with them
you do sometimes assist in the practical work, which seonghwa avoids, because after all, he has a reputation to maintain as dr. park
no one suspects a thing. you’re just supervisor and supervisee who share a similar obsession with research
nothing to worry about
Jekyll and Hyde
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Yunho
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The Hunter
when you finally got to a blind date that your friend begged you to go to, you didn’t expect to meet a man who would actually catch your eye
there is something about this man, jeong yunho, that instantly pulls you in as if you really are tied by a thread 
for starters, he is incredibly handsome and has a soft vibe to him that exudes warmth
his voice has a soothing quality and his mannerisms are as gentle as his gaze. his laugh is pure and he makes quite a good company
he just makes you feel comfortable and safe right away, which is kind of surprising
so when yunho tells you about himself, confirming that he is indeed a corporate lawyer at a well-known firm, you are simply in awe
you thought your friend was bluffing when she told you that she is trying to set you up with a ‘beauty with brains’
she was not lying, is all you can think now
you’re a simple school teacher, you tell yunho with a laugh
however, the man’s eyes are practically twinkling as he hears your stories about school 
you’re only telling him because he insisted, and now he can’t stop appreciating your profession, saying that it’s admirable how you are able to connect with children and educate them
the conversation steers to your likes and dislikes, your preferences, and what you’re looking for in a partner
surprisingly, the two of you have a lot in common
you both have a special place in your heart for food. you both love travelling. and there are some things he does not need to say out loud 
like how he’s a caring person- always making sure you’re comfortable and your bowl is full, draping his coat over your shoulders when you leave the restaurant and scour the streets for something sweet
the hand that he offers you is not suggestive and you like that (you also like how tall he is and how his hand engulfs yours almost entirely)
just two people who talk about anything and everything- that’s who you become by the end of the night
as you settle in bed later, you’re still smiling about how his eyes twinkled when he learned that you too have a thing for gaming too
you have good feelings about this person so far but there’s a feeling scratching at your heart that has you restless
it is the way his eyes darkened almost dangerously, only momentarily, when you insisted that you could get home on your own
he was a gentleman, no doubt about it, insisting that you could never be too sure these days especially with the news being so horrible lately, the crime rate spiking up dramatically in the past few months
you just did not like the idea of having a stranger accompany you all the way to your home, even if it was this gentleman- this was only your first meeting
so he made you promise to call him and let him know when you get home 
and here you are. you dated him for a few months before you both decided to move in together into an apartment that suited your needs
he’s perfect in every way- attentive, responsive, caring, funny, and he gives you space when you need it
which matters the most because you value your personal space a lot
he understands the importance of personal space very well and even though you share a room, you both let each other be 
you let him be when he’s gaming, and he lets you be when you’re staring at the ceiling or reading
more often though, he’ll have you sit on his lap as he games
since he’s so much bigger than you, you’ll curl on top of him to read or scroll and he’ll be focused on his game, liking your presence
it doesn’t always lead to something but when it does, it’s always fun
he has you smitten- his kisses still make you feel like it’s your first time sharing a kiss (and he’s damn good at it)
his touch lingers on your skin throughout the day and you cannot wait to be back in his arms again
it is just another night when you decide to walk and take the longer route back home because apparently yunho was going to be late and you did not want to be home alone
it gets quieter as you navigate through the streets and alleys
and when you take a turn and notice a familiar figure, you stop in your tracks
is that… not yunho? the back and the height looks pretty much the same
the man is watching a woman at the end of the street who is using her phone as if waiting for someone
the woman catches the man watching her and grows wary- you can tell even from the distance
you can tell that she is very much pretending to be on call when she starts moving
despite every cell in your body urging you to ignore this and go back home, you start to follow the man when he starts to follow the woman
you are careful to maintain a distance, cursing yourself internally for being a curious little shit who seeks thrill like there’s no tomorrow
but the woman takes a left, and the man takes a right, leaving you standing in the middle of the street, taking a few deep breaths
nothing happened, you think. you turn and start to trace your path back
and just a minute later, there’s an unmistakable sound of a woman’s scream filling the air
every hair on your body rises as your heart drops and eyes widen
you’re frozen in one spot with no idea what to do next- should you go check on the woman? see if it was the same person? 
not once do you think of calling the police though
you walk back home, lost in your thoughts with the image of the man’s familiar figure branded in your mind especially since you are pretty damn sure that those were little sunflowers embroidered on the hem of the hoodie
sunflowers that you embroidered on yunho’s hoodie
when you open the door to your apartment, though, you hear the sound of the TV and yunho is sitting very casually on the couch
“ah, you’re home,” he grins and waves, just like he usually does
he’s not wearing the hoodie anymore
“i thought you were gonna be late?” you ask
“you’re late,” he counters. “why did it take you so long to get home?”
“just decided to take a walk,” you smile, ruffling his hair and planting a kiss on the top of his head before going to your room 
you grab your clothes and move towards the bathroom to take a shower, and it is then that yunho’s eyes widen
“ah, babe?” he calls, his voice uncharacteristically high
when you don’t answer, he rushes towards the bathroom and finds you standing in the doorway
your eyes are fixed on the sink which is a pale shade of pink with handprints on it
yunho curses himself internally- he rushed to hide his hoodie as soon as he got home, jumped in the shower, spotted the bloody sink from when he first washed his hands and decided to make it look like he had been home for a while before cleaning the sink
only he fucking forgot
it doesn’t look as bad- it’s not a bloody red, for starters
“ah, i forgot to clean that up,” yunho awkwardly laughs, proceeding to move inside and open the tap, taking a sponge and cleaning the edges of the sink
yeah. it does not look that bad
“i accidentally spilled that red ink you have in the room- i don’t know why i got curious and messed with it.”
that’s not the colour of your ink, though, and you know it never leaves stains like these
“don’t worry about it,” you tell him, but your eyes are wider than usual. yunho notices that
he lets you shower in peace, all the while thinking if you suspect something
truth be told, he saw you when you were following him back there which is why he took another turn to mislead you
he also knows you are far too observant for your own good
he can’t lie- one of the reasons he fell for you is because of that. you are just like him
though you are free of sin unlike him, your mind is a mess
you notice too much that is not meant to be noticed. you sometimes say things that even he has not thought about. you question if human morals are an actual thing or a made up construct
is it from reading too much fiction? he thinks not
when you come out of the shower, something possesses you to move to the balcony
and that’s another thing yunho likes about you (which also scares him a little at times)
it is your intuition- which leads you to inspect the little corner where you pile up useless stuff. you can see the sleeve of his hoodie there
you pick it up and find it wet in certain spots
on its black base, you can’t tell what it is, but the sunflowers are stained a suspicious red colour, and it’s definitely not your ink 
you look towards your right where yunho is standing, vigilant
there is a moment of silence before you lower the hoodie 
“it really was you,” you say, unwavering
your heart is not speeding because you’re scared- it is speeding because you are right
yunho is still, contemplating how to deal with this
did he think he could hide his secret from you forever? no. was he prepared in case he gets caught? no
he just never imagined it would unfold like this
and now… will he have to hurt you if you threaten to expose him? he can’t bear to hurt a hair on your head
you bring out all the good in him. he does not know how you do that, but you make him believe that he can love with all of his heart too, just like any other person
you make him feel whole, and it would be such a shame if things fall apart now
to his surprise, you drop the hoodie back and walk towards him until there’s little distance between the two of you
you hold both of his hands in yours and look at him earnestly
“are you going to tell me what you have been up to?”
yunho is surprised at how calm your voice is and how accepting your eyes are
he sighs deeply before steering you to the couch in the living room
and then he bares his heart to you
he is a monster. that is it. he hurts people and it satisfies this ugly part of him
he does not always want to, he justifies, but sometimes, he just can’t help it
and the only reason he gets away with it is because he is not stupid and carefully chooses his victims- people who are miserable. people who have no one around them
“well then… i’m lucky to have one person in my life, right?”
yunho’s eyes widens at your response
you fulfil the criteria of being his victim- you have no one 
you have no one but him- how did that happen?
he thinks back to your first date and he can’t help but feel overwhelmed
he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his head about to explode 
why are you not running away from him? why are you caressing his head and holding him close?
you don’t tell him everything right away. you only ask him to trust you
so he trusts you and waits for you
he learns little bits about you- you, who do not care who yunho is, as long as he is transparent with you
you, who has a twisted sense of morality. you, who might be as bad as yunho, even worse
though, your hands are clean, you tell him sarcastically, it’s just your head that is a mess
and it’s a blessing that you two are together and can be honest about this too, right? how lucky you are to have each other
“you, without sin, are like the sun,” he tells you one night as he kisses the top of your head and holds you close
“you, even with sin, are like the sun,” you respond.
The Hunter and His Guide
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Yeosang
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The Mad Scientist
there is something about the innocent features of his face, the gentleness in his mannerism, the absolute ethereal aura about him
that contrasts strikingly with the pitch black (or maybe, just two shades lighter) of his soul
the man only knows how to scheme and how to take the best possible route towards his goals
the goals are all related to science
sure, he is contributing to the scientific area, doing researches no one else would do
doctor kang yeosang- a scientist and philosopher, held in high reverence in the medical field, contributing with numerous researches centering the human body
nobody needs to know exactly how he gets such extensive, solid results to support his theories
he comes off as a soft-spoken man, someone who possesses a kind heart
he is willing to overwork himself in order to make life easier for others
he is much appreciated by his peers
they don’t need to know that behind his neat and professional setup is a dark, cold space that holds his real workspace
the endless corridors lined with shelves upon shelves of jars 
jars containing the human body parts within them
from the brain to the spleen, from the heart to the liver
each jar meticulously lined in an organisation such that only yeosang could close his eyes and know where to pick what he needs
each organ in the jar has a story of the human that it once was- the story that yeosang himself scribes and tucks in the safe (and in a corner of his heart)
taking it out only to read and reminiscence, or to make another addition
such as the one that he is about to make now, sauntering with an almost skipping manner, highlighting his delight in the events about to unfold
his pristine white lab coat flows behind him, a symbol of everything that he would not be doing tonight, which only adds to the irony of it all
he finds you mirroring his expressions, eyes wide with anticipation and lips curled in a stifled smile
and he can’t help but smile wider, the sound of his footsteps echoing loudly as he speeds towards you so that he can finally hold you after the long day he had, tired of playing it cool in front of everyone
you are snaking your arms around his neck immediately as he bends down to capture your lips in a fierce kiss, earning a surprised but pleased yelp from you
you let him have his moment, kissing him back with equal passion until he draws away and rests his forehead against your shoulder
“long day, huh?” you press your lips against his temple. “how did the presentation go?”
the presentation being at a conference of the national medical association where yeosang was the chief guest, awarded for his valuable insights to the medical world
“i sometimes wonder if i’m the only one wearing a mask,” yeosang confesses.
you know what he means
there surely must be others just like him
you can’t expect to make medical advancements while sticking to the stupid laws and regulations they have carved for you
the medical associations do not allow anyone freedom 
“it’s tiring to pretend my research was simply a result of my team’s hard work,” yeosang continue, “they didn’t do batshit. i wish i could credit you instead.”
“but you can’t,” you caress his dark locks. “that would certainly raise suspicion since i’m… underqualified.”
well, that’s arguable 
you may not be as good as yeosang at what you do but considering that you come from a non-medical background, yeosang would say that you are pretty close
in fact, overqualified
“i don’t think there’s anyone more qualified than you,” yeosang lifts his head to look up at you, eyes scanning your face. “you’re an expert of the human body.”
you are an expert, that is true
you did what you had to do to survive as a young girl who lost her way
you were meant to be a test subject yourself but you created your own path and proved that you were good with your hands- almost artistic
and that you could open up humans as long as you had a good knife
your skills were a bit rusty when yeosang found you in the black market
but he was thoroughly impressed and made an offer. it was an offer that you couldn’t resist 
you would no longer be bound to be a slave for the rest of your life
you would be his equal. an accomplice 
“but you are the mad scientist. i’m just your unofficial assistant,” you pat his cheek in answer
it’s a wonder that you’re here now, in his arms
a muffled sound interrupts your little moment
you both steer towards the big room and yeosang looks around for a moment to take in the glory of his workplace
the crisp white walls and clean tiles smelling of antiseptic, marred with red stains of blood that is dripping from the man’s limbs
the man who is currently tied to a stretcher in the middle of the room
the instruments and tools that he would be using tonight to open his test subject up are glinting with silver, ready to be used
he has chosen the perfect target- a relatively healthy, middle-aged homeless man
really, no one would care if he went missing
in fact, you were doing him a favour by putting an end to his miserable life, right?
surely, he did not wish to live without a home and the means to survive
though here he was, sedated but struggling nonetheless, as if finally having found the will to live
“ah, he created a mess,” yeosang begins, clicking his tongue in disappointment as he inspects the bruises around the man’s wrists. “i’m sorry you had to wait so long, hmm?”
it’s almost eerie, how yeosang’s voice drips with pity
but that’s what you like about him
he thinks of the greater good. he is doing all of this for the greater good
there is no personal desire to kill random human beings, no
he simply needs test subjects to study the human body, so there can be advancements in the medical world
he just can’t believe that the world does not have a cure or even a prevention for most of the diseases in this age
he has taken it upon himself to contribute to the medical world so people do not have to suffer anymore
he complains about this a lot 
if people had guts, they would have done this ages ago
sometimes, he refers to the awful medical experiments done by humankind- especially on women
he is different from them, he claims
he cares about their pain- that is why he makes sure to make his subjects’ death quick and painless before he starts to conduct his experiments
it’s just too bad that he doesn’t have much time after the person passes to study certain functions of a living human
(so sometimes, he makes exceptions and asks god for forgiveness. easy peasy)
you watch yeosang with a sort of wonder and a little something that resembles fear as he caresses the man’s head in farewell
he asks the man to say his last words, to choose them carefully, to take his time and to make peace with the fact that there is no way out
the sedatives seem to have made the man somewhat placid
the test subject stops resisting to lock eyes with the doctor 
he says something about the regrets he’s had in his life and how he just wants his misery and pain to end now
yeosang’s brows are furrowed in concentration as he listens to each and every word, nodding along as if he aims to fulfil every desire this man possesses 
his hand is gently caressing the man’s head
when the man is done, yeosang tells him that his contribution to medical research won’t be forgotten
he looks at you to find you already staring at him with an unreadable expression
he signals you to get the job done and you inject the medicine meant to stop the man’s heart
you watch the man take his last breath, his face contorting in pain as his heart ceases to function
yeosang has already moved on from the little moment he had, putting on medical gloves and snapping them against his skin rather dramatically
“let’s get to work, shall we?”
you smile in response, following his instructions
soon, you are testing the functioning of the man’s abdominal organs with various equipment and drugs that yeosang has bought from the black market 
you have to work quickly before necrosis begins and hinders you
yeosang is very careful with his methods. his hands are steady as if he has done this a thousand times already 
and though he comes off as clumsy in the public eye, he is anything but here
his eyes are focused, darting between the electrodes placed on the man’s liver to the readings on the screen
it goes on like this for a while, yet another failed experiment as the liver fails to respond as desired to the electric shock and necrosis takes over
it doesn’t disappoint any of you though
yeosang has a strong vision and no amount of failed experiments is going to stop him 
plus, there’s always something you learn even from failure
you begin to clean up when you notice a broken nail lying on the stretcher
you pick it up with tweezers and inspect it- it must have broken when the man was struggling to break free
yeosang catches you looking at the discoloured nail with curiosity and he hums in question
“hair and fingernails are beautiful ornaments.” you ask, “so why do they seem so baleful when they are removed? 
yeosang stands beside you, pondering
“the answer is simple. they are previews of what is to come. of death.”
you look at him to find his eyes twinkling with the knowing glint of someone who’s seen it all
after you both finish recording the data of tonight’s session, yeosang is back to being the cute and clumsy person that you absolutely adore
the man is craving chicken after today’s hard work so you fulfil his wish and take him to his favourite place
you both sit across each other, drinking beer and savouring the juicy meat while talking about casual stuff- just an assistant and her boss
just two friends who met by chance and felt an instant pull towards each other
just two lovers, fated to be together and find solace in each other’s company
as if the stars have aligned for you yet again, a familiar face walks in and sits on the table next to you
you meet yeosang’s eyes and you both stifle a smile
it’s one of the potential test subjects you’ve had in your file, due for observation
and what better observation than to sit next to them in a casual setting and eavesdrop naturally?
yeosang raises his beer glass in toast and you share a knowing smile, raising your own glass in toast 
just two partners in crime. that’s who you are
The Mad Scientist and his Accomplice
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San
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Executioner
choi san works hard during the day
he goes to the school and makes sure his students are in top shape
as their p.e. teacher and coach, he has every student’s physical status on his fingertips
he knows their strengths and their weaknesses. he also knows their desires
so if a student is not a good runner but wants to run better, he would never tell them to give up, he would personally coach them and make sure they know that their body is not the limit
they can be a good runner, a good player, a good swimmer- anything
as long as they are steadfast, they can conquer the world
so choi san is loved and respected by the students, known to be a very caring teacher
but choi san works harder at night. no one needs to know that
certainly not his colleagues who always go about how hardworking a teacher he is
when he is free from the school, he goes to his home and changes before driving to his friend’s place- a warehouse where a few of you hang out
someone programmes, another composes, another works out
just an innocent hideout that you’re all using even in your early thirties
except that you also huddle around to read the new request you receive on your app
“i am a twenty-one year old female. two years ago, the man who dated my older sister killed her, but due to lack of evidence, he did not receive the jail time he deserves. he claims that he is innocent, but ever since he got out, he’s been bothering me because he had to serve his short sentence anyway. he is threatening to kill my family and then me if i go to the cops. i am scared to leave the house because he is stalking me and i can always see him wherever i go. please help me. i won’t go to the cops anyway- they didn’t do anything then, and they will not do anything now.”
san is contemplating if he should accept this request
you look at wooyoung who is immediately weighing the pros and the cons
you look back at san who is still deep in thought and you gently rest your hand on his thigh, bringing him out of his head
“i’ll take it,” he mutters. “accept the request, y/n.”
you nod and go back to the computer to accept the request
you have a phone call conversation with the client where you set up a meeting
it’s you and wooyoung who go to meet with the respective parties. san works in the shadows
the next night, san finds you deep in thought outside, leaning against the worn out wall of the warehouse
he joins you, hands in the pockets of his baggy jeans
“i know what you’re thinking,” san begins, glancing at you. “you’ve been awfully quiet since the meeting.”
you shrug in defeat. “i know i can’t change your mind.”
“it’s not going to be the same,” san refers back to the one time you all took a request from a 19 year old girl who was being bullied by her seniors
it got to a dangerous point and had you been a little late, you might have lost the girl
san lost his temper that time, though
and while he couldn’t physically harm the kids who were bullying the girl, he had them locked in a room for one night while he educated them
and funnily enough, san was scarier that night
scarier than every other time he actually wields a weapon
you asked him that night if there were any just people left in this world full of evil
“all people are evil. to believe that you are just, you must believe that someone else is more evil than you”
was his response. safe to say, the girl was living her best life now, but you saw a new side of san that night
a side you had never seen all your life, and that was saying something since you were childhood friends
“we won’t let it get to that point,” san assured, outstretching your hand and you pouted before taking it
he caressed your knuckles, his voice assertive. “i will take care of it. properly. i always do.”
“do you think i only worry about things going wrong?” you finally say out loud, the words that you want to say to him every time he goes out in the field 
san, despite himself, breaks into a smile that would seem so out of character to anyone who has not known him for long
“you can’t smile your way out of this,” you sulk further, snatching your hand away and folding your arms
“baby,” san begins, trying to take your hand again but you’re not having any of it
“i’m worried you’ll get hurt. i’m worried about the pain you’re willing to go through so you can lessen the pain of others.”
san stops teasing then, mimicking your position as he leans against the wall next to you
there is a thick silence surrounding you and you wonder what wooyoung is doing inside- is he napping?
“it’s something i have to do. something only i can do. you know that, right?”
“i know,” you say, almost a whisper. “and that’s what makes this more frustrating.”
because it was originally your idea
on a summer night when you were all about to graduate, a tragedy happened in your town
a man went on a spree, killing and wounding multiple women and children for weeks
you, who knew one of the victims personally, were shocked by the act and disgusted at how lazy the police were being
it turned out that the assailant was a high-profile businessman and the police were trying to cover the case up as per the orders of their superiors
the three of you were hanging out in the warehouse, each burdened by their own train of thoughts, until you finally said it out loud
“what if we were some sort of a private service where we help the victims? especially when the police can’t?”
it was wooyoung who agreed first, and san who disagreed
it took him some convincing to finally agree, and you set rules
you were not going to kill anyone- only maim
if it’s a serial killer, you maim their hands so they can never hold a weapon again
if it’s a bully, you maim their mouth so they think before they speak
the three of you are a team, but san is the executioner
wooyoung is his eyes and feet, and you are the brains
so it is ironic how worried you are about san now, when you gave him this role
“i know that i can get hurt,” san begins, taking a deep breath. “but there is no pain as long as i keep my eyes on the balance scale.”
this time, when he outstretches his hand, you take it. he plants a sweet kiss on your knuckles
“don’t worry about me, hmm?” he tugs you closer so you can rest your head against his firm chest as he embraces you. “i can’t focus when you’re so worried.”
“i can’t help it,” you tell him. “you’ll just have to get used to it.”
san lifts your face with his thumb below your chin, his brows furrowed with concentration and worry as he looks at you
his eyes are sharp as he scans you so you smile
immediately, his body relaxes and the corners of his lips curl in a smile as he pecks your lips- once, twice
and it is about to turn into a deeper kiss when wooyoung claps loudly to get your attention
“alright, lovebirds. get inside. we have a heads-up.”
you scowl at wooyoung who smirks in response but you both immediately join the youngest inside
your client has texted to let you know that she’s about to go out so you can stalk her stalker
you and wooyoung take your equipment to the van and san prepares himself 
he’ll be observing tonight, but he is prepared in case the stalker catches on
just like that, you observe the stalker for a few days, assuring your client that she is safe
you plan a trap to lure the stalker to an abandoned area where san will have a little chat with the stalker 
and when the day comes, all your client has to do is threaten to call the cops on him
he comes after her and that is when san knocks him out with a punch
the stalker finds himself tied to a chair in an empty room when he opens his eyes
there is the stale smell of something resembling death in the room, and that makes the man resist 
from the darkness, san emerges, clad in all black, his face covered with a mask
and his favourite weapon, the dagger, in his hand
you and wooyoung are watching from the camera embedded on his coat
you can see the glint of the dagger as he twists it dramatically in his hand
san circles around the man once as if to gauge the room 
even through the camera, you can tell how thick the air must be feeling
san meets eyes with the man and removes the tape over his mouth, wincing when the man screams his lungs out in hopes that help would come
there is no help, not for miles
“who are you?” the stalker spits on the ground near san’s feet 
san only shuts his eyes in mild annoyance. he is not easily riled up
“you have been found guilty of the crime of stalking. tell me… what should be your sentence?”
the man pales, fresh beads of sweat trickling down his forehead 
“it will be better if you admit to your wrongdoings and give me a fair number. you don’t want to leave it in my hands.”
“what do you mean sentence?” the stalker starts struggling fiercely, almost falling off the chair. “i have already served!”
san grins under the mask, closing in like a cat and stomping on his foot, making the man let out a guttural groan of pain
he leans in to whisper in his ear
“but… that was for murder. and unfortunately, i am not charging you for murder tonight. otherwise… you would not have walked out alive.”
the man gulps loudly, meeting eyes with who has to be the person he has heard so much about in prison
most of the people in prison feared this man- the judge, they called him
the man was the judge, jury and executioner for criminals, feared more than the cops or actual prosecutors
“surely… you’re not him, are you?”
you wince at the fear in the stalker’s voice and meet wooyoung’s eyes
san never confirms if he is that. he simply finishes the job right there
the stalker’s screams are heard for quite a distance, even outside your earpieces
you shut your eyes momentarily and when you open, you can see the blood oozing out of the man’s left leg
san is wiping the dagger with the man’s own jacket as he tells him that he will never be able to stalk people again
the man screams and screams, waiting for something more, but nothing else comes
san’s job is done
he tosses a broken piece of glass near the chair for the man to free himself if he wishes to
when san comes back to the van, the air is sombre, just like after every finished request
wooyoung pats his shoulder in acknowledgement and mutters a joke in an attempt to lighten the mood, which works
“they still call you the judge, huh?” wooyoung teases as he drives
“judge, jury, executioner. how scary, choi san.”
san raises a brow at your comment- he can tell what you’re referring to
you’re referring to the first time when he came back covered in blood
and the first time he realised that no matter what he did, you would never be scared of him
and that you and wooyoung would always have his back and guide him
“i think i’m only the executioner. you both are the judge and jury.”
“makes sense,” wooyoung agrees. “but the world does not need to know that.”
Judge, Jury and Executioner
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Mingi
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The Overseer
“the future, pitch black, upside down”
mingi dips his brush into the onyx ink, finishing writing the words on the big canvas
the canvas that is a splash of colours- red for the blood on his hands. white for the innocence he lost too soon. blue for all those nights he spent trapped with only the moon as his friend
and finally, black for the future. the future is the only uncertainty in his life
despite being a leader of a notorious gang, he can never be certain about his future. there are always people after his life
he cannot trust anyone- not one soul-
“sir,” a voice interrupts and he knows who it is instantly
even if he did not hear your voice, he knows you are the only person who would dare interrupt him in the middle of his private time-
“tea, sir. you’ve been cooped up in here for too long,” you say, placing the mug on the table
-for something as meagre as tea
mingi spares a glance in your direction, noticing how you are still dressed in your usual all-black fit
which means you have not gone to sleep yet, even though it’s well past midnight
“and what are you doing up so late?” he asks as he picks up the cup and sips it, finding it exactly to his liking. a flavour only you can nail
“watching you paint,” you confess without hesitation
because in this place, in this room, between the two of you, there may be truths hidden, but there are no secrets
mingi is amused to hear that though he does his best to hide it
“and what do you think of the painting?” he asks, allowing you to take a closer look
you smile at his permission to inspect his art and you inch closer to the painting, now standing beside your boss
you read the words on it in a whisper and cock your head in thought
“isn’t this too dark, even for you?” you question 
mingi shakes his head in amusement and looks down. only you could have made this observation, having been at his side for a solid seven years now
where others would say that his paintings were too ‘colourful’ considering the kind of person he is, you still find them too dark and void of life
you’d know better, because you know mingi inside out
he first found you when he was a street thug in the process of becoming something big
all he had was his raw strength, a strategic brain, a few rusty weapons and some loyal friends
he went on to fight gang after gang, always emerging victorious and merging the losing team with a good deal- it’s how he earned respect around and gained a reputation
every other gang knew not to stand against him unless they wanted to risk losing everything they had
when he first opened his office in the darkest part of the town, he found you purely by chance
you were nearing the end of your teens- a rebellious little girl who cut ties from her family and ran away from home
at that time, you had multiple part-time jobs trying to make ends meet, hoping to find a place to live
and one fateful night, you found yourself in front of a building to deliver chicken, peering up at the light coming from the 4th floor- this must be it 
although… you weren’t sure if the loud sounds coming from the floor were just men having a good time or if something had gone really, really wrong
men will be men, you thought, wanting to get the delivery done with so you could move on
only when you reached the 4th floor, you spotted men lying on the ground and clutching their limbs, blood all around
while every sane part of your brain screamed at you to pretend you saw nothing and go back, you recalled how when you received the order, they promised a big tip to the rider
you could not miss that, could you? you had to find a place to live, and you needed every penny
so you started with the men who seemed to be unconscious. you took any cash they had, being careful to hide your face in the hoodie
you moved to the office, hearing a crashing sound and flinching
you made quick work of grabbing more cash from the thugs- they had to be thugs
they all had guns, for fuck’s sake
you went into one of the neater rooms and placed the bags of fried chicken there
and you froze when a burly man made his way inside, wiping blood from the edge of his mouth
“ah… you must be song’s girl, eh?” he snickered, scanning you up and down
“i- i’m delivering chicken,” you pointed at the table. “i’ll be on my way then-”
“not so quick,” his gaze darkened 
instinctively, you grabbed the nearest object, which so happened to be a mug and chucked it at the man, successfully hitting his head
he clutched his head in pain and you made a dash outside, bumping into another man
the tall man seemed mostly unscathed save for a bruise on his cheek
he held your wrists to steady you and his eyes darted in the man’s direction who was clutching his head no more
“oi, song!” the burly man called. “teach your girl some manners, will you?”
the man called song pushed you to the side and a gunfight ensued
you took shelter behind a shelf, observing how the taller man successfully shot his every target
when he thought he was done- and was out of bullets, he looked in your direction and tsked loudly
you were about to come out of the shadows when you noticed one of the supposedly unconscious men take aim of song’s head
your eyes widened and almost instinctively, you grabbed a heavy metal object from the shelf and rushed to the man who was targeting your saviour
to say that mingi was surprised to see a young girl save him from his enemy by nearly crushing the man’s skull?
he knew you were something special right away
you both stared at each other for a long time before he told you to go back to his office, lock the door and not come out until he comes back
he was done sooner than you thought, and while his men cleaned his mess, he found you in his room, sitting rather calmly
“so you’re the delivery girl,” he narrowed his eyes
“i hope the chicken is still warm,” you responded. “if you can just pay me so i can leave-”
“why did you do that earlier?” he asked, voice low and rough that sent shivers up your spine
“i don’t know,” you answered truthfully
mingi paid you more than extra that night and told you to come next time they place an order 
the next time would turn out to be the last time you would ever work a part-time job
mingi offered you a place in his gang, and you took it
you are still not sure what your position in this gang is though- they smuggle drugs but keep you away from the work, so what are you doing here?
personal assistant? chef? manager? all of these? 
sometimes, you are accompanying wooyoung in the field- the gang now has an official base and a few legal businesses
sometimes, you stay in the kitchen with seonghwa and wooyoung to cook
other times, you sit with yunho and hongjoong to plan and offer your opinion on their strategic takes
you aren’t sure if you are qualified for that- you probably aren’t
somehow, though, the gang members respect you for whoever you are
you are the light in their dark life, they joke. you are someone’s friend now, sibling to some, secretkeeper for others
but you still aren’t sure what you are to mingi
whenever you ask him why he took you in, mingi always responds with something different
“you were clever grabbing all that money from our enemies”
“you saved me- though i must say i could have handled it”
“you looked like a lost cat”
“you didn’t report us”- excuses, all of them
truth be told, mingi has no idea what you are to him either
he has a certain fondness for you that he has for no one else. of course, it didn’t happen instantly
he took you in because he realised you had a strategic mind and he could really use that
he insisted the office needed a ‘feminine touch’ even though it came in the form of a cranky teen who wouldn’t stop asking questions
but somehow, the two of you formed an unbreakable bond
he finds solace just being with you in one room, even in complete silence
he loves to hear you talk, even though you mostly question his morals
because he is not a good person, you found out
song mingi is not conventionally good. he is a man of principles, but he does not have the best morals
despite all that, you learned a lot from him. the world is a harsh place, and only he can protect you 
he learned a lot from you too. the world is a harsh place, and only you are his safe space
when at times things get stressful, he comes to seek you. he finds you in the shared residence and sits with you
if he is feeling down, you will have him lay his head in your lap. you will caress his head and let him be
if he wants to talk, he will. otherwise, he will watch you for a long time until he falls asleep, unguarded
when he gets tired, he will seek your arms. all he has to do is show up and you will know what to do
you will drop whatever you are doing and spread your arms
it is his home at this point. that’s how things are like
are you in a relationship? you don’t know
all you know is that song mingi is the most important person in your life
it doesn’t matter if he lives life the way he does
it doesn’t affect you anymore- the blood on his hands or the chaos in his mind
it doesn’t bother you because you know his heart, and that is all that matters
so standing in his private space right next to him, inspecting his painting with a critical eye, you tell him that the painting is not him
he tells you to pick a colour and you reach out for a box, making him chuckle
“really?” he asks
“the future may seem black, but…” you begin. “it doesn’t feel so dark when i’m with you.”
mingi takes a deep breath at your words. you always get him like this, and he is not sure if he can restrain himself anymore
your heart aches when you see him curl his fists, a sign that he is holding back some words or an action
“tell me what you’re thinking,” you request, though it registers like a command in the gang leader’s brain
“i’m thinking that i never should have given you this life.”
you shake your head at that- how many times has he voiced out that he wished you had lived a better, normal life, away from the clutches of the underworld?
“no, you’re thinking something else too,” you comment
“i’m thinking that i want you to stay here, with me, forever,” he responds
you nod in approval. “i’m right here. i’m not going anywhere.”
“you could get hurt,” mingi says, taking a step closer and closing the gap between your bodies
“i am a big girl now, mingi,” you laugh, wrapping your arms around his waist and hearing his erratic heartbeat
his arms are still by his sides for a moment before he embraces you
“i’m old now, in fact. how much longer will you keep me waiting?”
mingi grows stiff at your question. so you know
of course you do
mingi cups your face and locks eyes with you
“i won’t break,” you promise
“i know,” he smiles, pecking your forehead. “i’m afraid you will break me.”
your lips curl in a smile and he rests his forehead against yours
“are you sure about your choice?”
“yes,” you breathe. “i want you. i’m yours.”
mingi draws back
“i meant your choice of colour,” he tilts his head in the direction of the painting and the box of paint you picked for him
“of course you did,” you laugh at his attempt to distract you
mingi leans in to close the distance between your lips
it is soft and unrushed. you both have waited for the right moment, the right time for years and everything feels absolutely right at this moment 
you go first, asking him to join you in your bedroom and he agrees
he assesses the canvas once again
as a finishing touch, he sprays a final splash of yellow- the colour you picked for him
yellow for hope, for all the light in his dark world
The Overseer and his Shelter
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Wooyoung
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The Maniac
it has always been a cat and mouse game with you and wooyoung
you chase after each other, running in circles with no start or end
it’s almost as if you both have sworn to keep your eyes glued on each other, watching every move, anticipating what is next
someone’s lips curls up in a failed attempt to restrain a smile- a smile that drips with mischief and mockery
someone else’s eyes glint with threat and promise that this is not over, their fists curled in anger
you chase after each other like cat and mouse
only…you’re not sure who is the cat and who is the mouse
sometimes, it is you chasing after wooyoung
jung wooyoung, the son of one of the richest businessmen in town
a privileged piece of shit who is not right in the mind
a crazy bastard who has made it his life’s mission to not only drive you to the edge of the cliff but to push you and laugh in victory as you fall
he takes advantage of you being a criminal investigator 
some people jest that they can’t tell if wooyoung means to ruin your career or lead you to your promotion
with the amount of times wooyoung has gotten himself in trouble (and gotten away with it) he keeps your desk full of cases that you spend most nights investigating
while he keeps your hands full, what frustrates you to no end is that he almost always gets away with his crimes only because of his social standing and his connections
he gets away with petty crimes. he gets away with bloody fights that could very well have him spend one night in the station, cuffed 
he gets away with major crimes such as money laundering and tax evasion
no matter how much you try to investigate, you cannot
there are the warnings of your superiors who threaten to fire you because this is not your worry
and even if you do start to investigate, wooyoung’s team is quick to wipe any evidence of said crimes
you’re pretty sure that at this point, he might be hiding a body somewhere in his house
you wouldn’t be surprised. man once set his enemy’s mansion on fire
to make things worse, he got away with it- even when he was the only one grinning and playing with a lighter on his way out 
while the others scrambled like mice, he sauntered in style
he gets away with anything
you reputation at the station is already in shambles because of it
they call you his shadow at this point, considering how you are always following him
the truth is, you just want to wipe the shitty grin off his face for once
you want him to suffer defeat when you finally put him behind bars
you want him to chase after you like you chase after him
you might come off as delusional, but you’re half convinced that whatever wooyoung does is on purpose at this point- to get your attention
it wasn’t always like this, you and wooyoung
it started with a simple fight that broke out at a party where all the high-profile people were
someone was stupid enough to call the police- but you were more stupid because you went ahead and handcuffed wooyoung
you told him that you couldn’t waste this opportunity because you were investigating another case related to his father’s company anyway
and he? he laughed out loud like a maniac
you soon learned why, going home with the sound of your superiors scolding you still ringing in your ears
here you are, a few years and a lot of chasing each other later
except… you get something out of the chasing now
all he has to do is corner you. all he has to do is rile you up as he tells you why you lost this game yet again
with his burning gaze and honey voice, he pins you to the spot
with his fingers tracing the curves of your face, he tells you how much he loves you chasing after him 
as if he’s all that you ever think about. he might be right
“don’t you think we’re meant for each other?” wooyoung questions almost innocently, licking his lips subconsciously as he trails his finger down the curve of your neck until he reaches the first button of your shirt
“don’t think too highly of yourself, wooyoung,” you respond, your chest rising and falling in controlled breaths
you can not let him know the effect he has on you
however, wooyoung doesn’t need any sort of confirmation
you can try to keep your gaze steel all you want. you can attempt to sound sure and fake indifference, but the fact is that wooyoung knows
all he has to do is take another step forward and fill the gap between you two
his warm breath caresses your face and you gulp despite yourself
he watches you intently and squeezes your neck just a bit, causing you to part your lips for air and then he brushes the tip of his nose against yours
his other hand is slowly but surely unbuckling the belt of your pants and taking it off
you can only thank god in an ashamed relief that you’re in a private space- the space being one of the empty rooms in a random building on a random street because you had been tailing wooyoung
(at least the door is locked)
wooyoung brushes his lips against yours as your pants fall on the ground and pool on your feet
the sound that makes has heat rushing to your face- this should not be happening
you are a fucking detective and wooyoung is your target
but you can’t complain when his fingertips dance along your hip bones
all he has to do is swipe his fingers up your panties
upon finding them soaked (as usual), he smirks and you smack his chest
he catches your fist in his hand, though
“all for me?” he asks
in a matter of seconds, your lips are upon each other, tongues in each other’s mouth as you wrap your legs around him
he picks you up effortlessly and places you on a very dusty table
he gets rid of his clothes all the while kissing you expertly, aiming to please you, dominate you
he sucks on your lips, your neck, anywhere he can get his mouth on
and when he finally takes off all your garments, he has more places he can get his mouth on
“admit it, detective,” he breathes against your clit. “you’re obsessed with me.”
“get to work before i cuff you and fuck your brains out, wooyoung.”
wooyoung’s laugh echoes in the room as he recalls that night- a night he is sure he can never forget
“does that mean i get to experience that again if i stop now?”
you are moments away from your high- how dare he ask if he can stop?
he gets the hint and gets to work, and he makes sure he does a good job, licking and sucking at your clit until you’re screaming
for bonus points, he dives his cock inside right after and stays still as he starts to kiss you eagerly
this time, you’re the one who loses to him and lets him take control
you let him thrust into you. you let him praise you and humiliate you to no end
truth be told, you’re addicted to him. there is no going back from here
wooyoung knows how to use his tongue and he whispers sweet nothings
he is also surprisingly good at aftercare, even though you don’t accept it from him
well, you try not to, but he is insistent
he takes you home and he invites himself in
you go to the shower and he goes to your room to admire the effort you put into bringing him down
loads of files and a board full of his ‘accomplishments’ staring back at him- nothing he doesn’t know
“you think your daddy will help you if i start to investigate the slush fund you have?”
“which one?” is his response, and he grins widely as you gape at him
he can practically see the gears in your head turning and he adores that
it is a cat and mouse game after all. he must give you something so you keep coming after him
(and you must give him something so he keeps finding you too)
while you’re still processing what he just implied, your phone rings
you flinch when you pick it up, getting an earful from your team leader once again, because where were you?
you were supposed to tail wooyoung to confirm that he is meeting up with a notorious gang member who does his dirty work
the case you’re team is on these days is targeting the gang, and yet again… wooyoung is involved
so what the hell were you doing, your superior asks
“jung wooyoung did not meet up with the gang leader,” you say into the phone, your eyes fixed on wooyoung 
wooyoung has a shit-eating grin plastered on his face
“and how do you know that? i thought you lost the tail-”
“yes, i did lose the tail,” you bite your lips in thought- you can’t tell your team leader that wooyoung has a strong alibi this time-
but wooyoung goes ahead and snatches your phone from you
“detective lee,” wooyoung greets and you mutter a string of curses under your breath
you watch wooyoung charm his way through the matter
telling the detective that he was in a tight spot because of the gang they are investigating
and how it is a shame that a ‘civilised’ person such as himself is being linked to thugs
he tells him that he almost got attacked but you saved him, and you hid him in an abandoned building, being wise enough not to blow your cover 
you can’t tell how he does it, but by the end of the call, your team leader is fully convinced that you did a good job today and he even praises you when you take the phone back
when you end the call, you glare at wooyoung
“what?” he shrugs. “i needed an alibi.”
“is that why you took me to the building to fuck me? because you needed an alibi?”
wooyoung watches you with mild curiosity
“did you think it meant something else?” he asks
it would have hurt if he really meant it, but that’s the thing
you both know he doesn’t mean what he says, especially about whatever is going on between you two
he has risked his position and even his life far too many times just to get you alone and fuck you
so you only smile and shake your head in response before telling him to fuck off and get out of your sight
(and he does. not before a second round)
when he leaves, you watch his car disappear from the window before going to the board and updating everything you got out of him tonight
everything about his business and his crimes. everything to make your case on him stronger
it’s truly a wonder how much you can get out of fucking someone right and you’re positive you can see the end of this case now
though… you’re not sure if you will ever take this to court. but that’s something you’ll worry about later
for now, you will follow him like a cat follows a mouse
and he will chase after you like a cat chases after a mouse
The Maniac and his Shadow
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Jongho
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The Tyrant
it is always a little too cold in the building for your liking
the building that is choi enterprises, located at the heart of the city, standing tall with numerous floors, laden in luxury
it is a workplace and home to some of the people in this city and a symbol of something untouchable to the others
as you enter the building, accompanied by your secretaries and a guard, you instantly feel the temperature drop despite the warm tones of the interior
the employees that greet you may have smiles on their faces but it’s all an act. you can tell, because you know what a genuine smile looks like
choi enterprises somehow always manages to keep the most calculating people to themselves. it might be why the company has flourished so much in such a short period of time
“to the private elevators, miss,” a man says and you recognise him as one of the ceo’s personal staff
you follow him and tug your jacket closer, wishing you had worn it instead of draping it over your shoulders
you catch your reflection on the golden glossy door of the elevator and straighten, lifting your chin up
you will not be pushed into submission, you repeat for the umpteenth time
however, things are not in your favour this time
in this never ending game of business rivalry, you and choi jongho have never seen eye to eye. you always stand in opposition, defensive or offensive
sometimes, you manage to outsmart him while making a new business deal or scoring a new project. other times, he is a few steps ahead and wins the game
except when you lose, somehow, the loss is much greater and a bit personal
your company always suffers more when you lose, which is why this little meeting you are going to have with jongho is no less than a negotiation- a war, if you must
sometimes, you wonder if jongho has a personal grudge against you. these meaningless battles start to seem like an excuse to see you
if not, then why is jongho looking like he just won the lottery at the sight of you?
“as beautiful as ever,” he says, scanning your figure slowly
you don’t move an inch, pretending those words don’t affect you
the secretaries move to another room, leaving you and jongho alone
jongho gets up from his chair and moves to the middle of the room, motioning you to take a seat
you watch as he pours a drink for you, his muscles flexing through the coat he’s wearing 
you take the drink- you need something to calm your nerves
“i suppose the odds are not in your favour, considering you found your way back here”
an allusion to the time he said that you were meant to find your way back here again and again, that you were just a lost kitten and he was your master, controlling you
at that time, you thought he meant to spite you, but time after time, he proved himself right
you always find your way here, always as the opposition. this time, though… you won’t bend
“if the odds are in your favour,” you begin experimentally, downing the drink in one gulp and then pouring one for jongho. “would you like me to join hands with you?”
now this is new- jongho’s eyes slightly widen at your remark
“ah… how the tables have turned,” jongho started to chuckle lowly
you let him be for a moment, scoffing internally
jongho had earned the right title over the years since he stepped up as ceo of his father’s company
a monster of capitalism
known to be the owner of many questionable businesses, borderline illegal, evading taxes and having slush funds unashamedly, heavily involved in money laundering- the list goes on and on
a true financial villain- a true monster, yet… being able to get away with everything, unscathed. that’s who jongho is
he has bribed every soul who would dare go against him. and those who do not take the bribe? he makes sure they kneel
and you… you’re pretty close to being his next target- he did say you would look pretty on your knees for him
“is business not going well?” he asks, faking innocence. he knows
you are a rival company- seo enterprises. everything that jongho’s company is, but… more legal
your forefathers were once partners, and they created their independent companies without a hint of rivalry
they were the definition of true brothers (and partners in crime)
the difference between the values of your company came when you and jongho stepped up as ceo
you had made it your life’s mission for your company to earn a good reputation and moral image, while jongho seemed to have made it his life’s mission to simply conquer the world, no matter what or who the stepping stone is
“business is well,” you narrow your eyes at him. “it’s about the land in ilsan.”
jongho doesn’t seem surprised to hear that. it is always like this- he knows what moves you will make
“ah, the one where we are about to construct a gallery?” jongho asks
“we?” you repeat. “that land is a shared property. why have you not consulted us before going ahead and signing the documents? how could you begin this project without us-”
“the other option is selling it to the government because of the redevelopment project,” jongho leans forward, “and you know how much i despise the government getting their grubby hands on what’s mine”
you know he is right, and he knows that you are not here to argue about why he started this project without telling you
jongho relaxes back, considering all his options before deciding to strike. “you’re worried about your involvement in that project, is that right?”
“well,” you mirror his position, “i would like to keep my reputation clean unlike yours.”
he chuckles at that, proud of his deeds. “yeah, well, that’s going to be hard, sweetheart. that gallery is going to be an optimum location for storing money.”
you know what he means. the gallery is going to display priceless pieces of arts. those pieces are but a means of illegal transactions for the elites
you swallow your anger, taking a deep breath. “i’d like to have my shares back, then. before construction starts.”
“uh…” jongho gets up, fixing his clothes. “you’re going to have to convince me for that.”
“please,” you scoff, but he only shakes his head, ignoring that because he knows this ‘please’ was wholly sarcastic
“try harder,” he smiles mockingly before turning his back to you and moving to the window, putting his hands in the pockets of his pants and staring down at the city
a tyrant- that’s who he is
he expects to get the maximum output out of anything he set his eyes on, no matter the cost- money or lives
you join him by the window, pointing at a few spots. “that’s where people held protests against your company last week,” you tell him. “apparently, you have been exploiting labourers too.”
“that’s what they think,” he spits. “i gave them more than they deserve. they just never learn to accept. they never get pleased.”
you look at jongho- he sounds like he is saying the truth. he has the art of sounding like a victim at times, thus justifying his actions
“doesn’t all that venom in your heart make you dizzy?”
jongho glances at you, his lips threatening to curl into a smile at your words
“doesn’t it get tiring, pretending to be moral?” jongho asks, trying to read your guarded eyes 
“there’s no pretending. i never claimed that i was full of morals, mr. choi,” you sigh. “i just wish for my business to have a legal foundation.”
“and it will, you don’t have to worry,” he responds, curling a section of your hair that had been resting on your shoulder in his fingers
you don’t flinch at his touch. you’ve known him since the beginning, and nothing he does fazes you anymore- except when he leans closer experimentally, locking eyes with you and trying to read you
“you will get your shares, but you will have to convince me,” he says, voice barely above a whisper
it is a challenge. it is always a challenge with choi jongho
“why are you so obsessed with me?” you laugh this time, swatting his hand away
he joins, and everything almost seems normal for a moment- just two friends with too many inside jokes, except… it only lasts for a moment
“how can i convince you?” you ask, sombre
“you know what i want from you, y/n,” he replies in a similar tone
he wants a true partnership, except his idea of a partnership is where you bend to his will (and so is yours)
“don’t turn this into a legal battle, jongho,” you warn, “i would hate to summon you to court.”
“don’t turn this into a petty rivalry,” he counters, “you will benefit from this project. you reputation won’t be harmed.”
“i don’t want my name next to yours,” you tell him in all honesty and you think you see hurt flash in his eyes
“that is not possible,” jongho declares. “our companies are not mentioned without each other. we are fated like that, you and i.”
that is true. no one dares to touch the two of you, so you two have always been alone
there is no one you both can trust. there is no one next to you 
except the two of you are always together, wherever you go, be it business parties, political dinners, or high-profile events
you can only trust each other, because despite knowing everything about each other’s business, despite being at war with each other
you are always honest with each other- honest about your intentions and purpose
there is no one next to you because you two are always together, leaving no space for someone else
do you hate that? not really. does he hate that? he’s not sure
“you can buy my shares from me,” you start, “or you can shift them elsewhere. i can handle whatever loss comes with that.”
“or… you can let it be and use the revenue for something ‘moral’,” he taunts and silence envelopes the room
“no matter how much you try to maintain a clean image,” he starts, gentler this time, “you cannot undo the damage your forefathers have done to your company, y/n. seo enterprises will always be known as the company that exploited the weak to get to the top.”
you don’t wince at that, though your heart aches to hear that
“just like your company. except you are continuing in their footsteps,” you say
jongho nods, watching how your shoulders are curling inwards
“you are not weak, y/n, stand straight,” he almost scolds, taking you by surprise 
you find yourself straightening at his words, confused to see how conflicted he looks
“you are the strongest person i know,” he tells you, and he means it. “i just don’t get why you are atoning for their sins.”
“i don’t know either,” you smile in defeat. “i just am.”
“well, if you ever get tired,” he gently places his hands over your shoulders, “i am here for you. you can lean on me.”
you lock eyes with him, scanning his face. his smile seems genuine
the way he kisses your forehead makes your heart melt
when he embraces you, you lean on him physically
and you almost give in, except…
“i can lean on you, huh?” you say, soaking in the warmth of his body, taking as much as you can before you continue 
“so you can end my career, merge our companies and crown yourself king?”
you look up at him, finding him smirking
just like you thought
“not a chance, choi jongho.”
“how can you see right through me every time, y/n?” he laughs loudly as you smack his chest and move towards the sofa to grab your purse
“i’m the only person who knows who you are,” you tell him. “you can own the world, but you will never own me.”
his eyes glint almost dangerously
“challenge accepted,” he says
you mockingly wave goodbye before exiting the room
choi jongho never changes, and neither do you
but somehow… it gets more addicting and electrifying to be with him, to compete with him and to stand with him
even though he is a tyrant, and you are everything that he is not
The Tyrant and His Defiant Ally
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tofics · 18 hours ago
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You Owe Me - Part 1
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Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!Reader
Summary: Forced through circumstances out of your control to rely on Joel Miller, you end up traversing the country with him. You're not particularly enthralled with him, and neither is he with you - or so you think, until your period strikes, and you're practically bed-ridden. Or: Joel can't stop jerking off to you after he accidentally got a taste of your lips.
Warnings/tags: canon typical show/game violence, sort of dubious consent (reader gets kissed without being asked and only later agrees), age gap (reader is about ~25 years younger), enemies to lovers kind of, awful period + period cramps, jerking off, fluff
Word count: ~7.4k
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Periods are not fun to begin with.
They're even less fun in a post-apocalyptic world, where sanitary products are hard to come by and more of a luxurious rarity than a given staple item in your average survivor's backpack.
You knew you were bound to begin your cycle eventually, and had you had more time, you'd probably have prepared yourself some way or the other. But, with the way things had gone in the past two weeks, you had not had any time to think about bodily functions beyond what your every day efforts demanded of you, and even that was hard to care for.
Ever since the night that you fled Boston's QZ, you hadn't had a proper night's rest, let alone a hearty meal to replenish your energy with. Your escape had been 'spontaneous' to say the least, a necessity brought upon by circumstances that you'd stumbled into rather than purposefully involved yourself in, and before you knew it, you were pointing your finger at Joel Miller, of all people in the world, hissing threats through gritted teeth about how he at least owed you this much if he was going to get you involved in his business without your consent and how you weren't gonna get hanged just because he'd dragged you into his bullshit.
Joel, of course, was not a man you could just point your finger at and demand things of, much less in a hissed tone, even less in the form of threats.
And yet, he'd smuggled you out of the city in a cloak-and-dagger-operation that same night, despite his hard glares and hushed warnings to keep your mouth shut. You'd been anything but prepared when he'd appeared at your side like a magician out of thin air. He'd laid his arm around your neck like a lover might on an evening stroll, but the gesture hadn't been kind, his arm too tight around your throat, pressing on your airway as he'd instructed you - commanded you - to follow him, like you'd have had any other choice with his arm wrapped around your neck like a boa constrictor, all the while a smile on his face that feigned nonchalance to possible onlookers. Nothing to see here, just two lovebirds on their way home after another long, hard day of work.
You'd shaken him off once the two of you were out of sight, ripped his arm off of your throat as you swiveled out of his headlock. "What the fuck, Joel," you'd hissed and he'd stared back at you with that same cold and hard look you knew him by. "Do you want out of the city or not?" His arms were crossed in front of his chest, his tone matching the iciness of his eyes. Your jaw tensed. The nerves of this guy. "The hell are you talking about?"
He scoffed like you were being dense. "Out. Flee the nest. Hit the damn road-" You cut him off with another pointed finger. "Don't be cute. I know what you mean. What I'm asking is, now?!" He eyed your finger like he was debating cutting it off if you jabbed it into his face one more time. His jaw ticked. "Yes, sweetheart, now." Your nostrils flared at the sarcastic tone of the nickname, but he gave you no time to interject. "Got tipped off. They're gonna do a raid tonight, hit everyone they know I'm involved with. Since you got all flustered about my - 'involvement' of yours-" "Oh, is that what you call that? Grabbing and kissing me out of the blue?" "-I figured I'd do you a solid by giving you a heads up," he talked over you, ignoring your comment entirely. You were seething. "Ever heard of a thing called 'consent', Joel?" He flicked his tongue, rolled his eyes. Clearly, he had no time to entertain your attitude. You didn't care. "It's when you ask someone if they wanna do something, and then only do it if they say yes. Now I know that concept might be a little hard to grasp for you-" You were slowly advancing on him, getting up all in his face, when his hand closed around your arm tightly. Your gaze fell down to his grip, your lower jaw pushing out slightly. His eyes flicked over your face like he was waiting for your next outburst. "Are you quite done? Cause we gotta go. Unless you'd like to stay and be questioned by FEDRA officers? I'm sure they'd be very interested in your lecture about consent." Joel's upper lip curled back in an ugly sarcastic smile.
And so you'd let him lead you through the city, begrudgingly at first and then bewildered when you realized you were heading in the opposite direction of your apartment. "What about my stuff?" He'd only shaken his head. "No time for that. We gotta go now. Got some backpacks waiting for us a couple blocks ahead."
He only realized you'd stopped walking when he was at least ten steps ahead. "You comin' or what?" You could tell by the tone in his voice that he was nearing the end of his patience, but as far as you were concerned, you were already at the end of yours. You didn't budge, just stared him down from where you stood, shooting icy daggers out of your eyes and your pursed lips quivering as insults swarmed in your head, all fighting to be let out at once. He looked back at you with dull disinterest in his eyes. "By all means, take your time. Ain't like we're on a clock here or somethin'."
"Oh, you son-of-a-bitch, you ignorant little cock-sucker, you absolute blithering idiot-" The stream of affronts sputtered out of you. Joel quickly closed the distance between the two of you and forcefully grabbed you by the arm, dragging you with him once more. "Walk and talk, yeah?," he said over your flood of offences, the jabs seemingly rolling off of him like water droplets against plastic. You kept up your clamor all the way down the next block, until he dragged you into yet another side-alley to avoid a group of FEDRA soldiers marching past.
The two of you stood closer together than both you and him would have liked. If it hadn't been for the parade of soldiers walking past you, you might've scratched his eyes out, something you made sure to convey with your eyes as you stared him down in silence. His indifference only fueled your rage. "Do you have any idea what you're asking of me?" You hissed at him when most of the parade had passed by. Joel wondered if he'd ever hear your normal tone-of-voice. "Come again?" He cocked his head. "The way I recall it, you asked me to get you out of the city, not the other way around. Now who's imposin' on who?"
He saw it coming before it was looming in his face again. That damn finger of yours, pointed right at his nose once more. His lips pursed, his hand twitched on the handle of the blade he kept concealed on his waist. Just one quick swipe. Your howls would likely attract the guards. Not worth it. Yet.
"We're only in this predicament because you couldn't keep your damn hands off of me!" You almost spat in his face, your voice all hoarse from trying to keep your shout down to a whisper. Your head looked like it was about to implode. Joel flicked his tongue again.
"You wanna discuss bygones again or you wanna get goin'? Time's not waitin' on us, sweetheart."
"Oufff." You growled in response, your finger so close to his face you'd take out an eye if he moved an inch in the wrong direction. "Get that thing out of my face," he finally snapped and smacked your hand down. "Now quit whinin'. You wanted out of the city, you're gettin' out of the city. Giddy up. Time's a' wastin'."
Without another look to check if you were following, he dipped out of the alleyway and marched down in the direction of his - your - first pit stop. You stood between the tight walls for another moment, breathing heavily. If FEDRA hadn't been breathing down your neck, you would've turned around on your heels and sent Joel off to whatever miserable adventure he was about to embark on, but alas, he'd made his miserable adventure yours against your will. You cursed under your breath, then hurried after him.
"All I'm saying is, what about my shit? You think I don't have any sentimentals at home? Necessities? Stuff I wanted to bring when I left?" You whispered to him as you kept up with his pace beside him. It could've been your imagination, but the people out on the street looked more hurried than usual. Something was definitely in the air. Joel's tip-off likely had been right. Something was brewing.
"You win some, you lose some," came his sullen reply, paired with a shrug. You had to stuff your comeback back down your throat as the two of you filed into the crowd of people heading home, hurried steps and hard, concerned faces all around you.
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Escaping hadn't been easy. Every single guard had been on high-alert. It seemed that the tip-off must've come out - the number of guards had been tripled, and you and Joel had a hard time going by undetected, despite the added benefit of nighttime and the rain that had picked up, muffling your steps as you hurried from dark corner to dark corner.
The Firefly attack took him as much by surprise as it did you and the soldiers. The booming sound of an explosion just a few hundred feet ahead made you flinch and Joel instinctively pulled you down with him. Rubble rained down on the two of you, crashing into the muddied floor just inches besides you. You gasped and flinched away, losing your halt on all fours, but a strong arm caught you around the middle before you could slump to the ground. "Let's go," Joel urged in your ear and dragged you up to your feet in one swift motion.
Shouts erupted around you from all sides, then got droned out as FEDRA's sirens kicked up. You scrambled after Joel as he evaded spotlights that swiveled across the floor from all directions, keeping the two of you safely tucked away in the few shadows that remained. Smoke burned in your nose and lungs as you sprinted from safe haven to safe haven. Loud cracks cut through the uproar of your surroundings, accompanied by deep thudding sounds as more rubble fell to the floor. The fire from the explosion site was now spreading out, slowly licking at buildings in its path. Many of the decrepit structures quickly crumbled away under the heat, porous and unstable to begin with.
It was disorienting, frightening. For the first time in over a week, you were glad for Joel Miller. If it hadn't been for him, you wouldn't have made it out of the chaos alive.
Granted, if it hadn't been for him, you wouldn't have been in this mess in the first place, but he kept his word and got you out.
You'd never meant to stay with him, but as things would have it, you weren't presented with much of a choice in that either. You made it out of the city just fine, save for a few jump scares along the road, but then ran into a hoard of infected that had been attracted by the ruckus of the explosion, just a few miles outside of the quarantine zone.
How you made it through that encounter alive, you didn't know, you just knew that Joel was a more-than-worthy asset in that debacle, as much as you hated to admit it. As if that hadn't been enough, you barely had one peaceful night before a group of raiders pulled through the section of outskirts where you and Joel had holed up for the night. It was an 'out of the frying pan and into the fire' kind of turn of events that kept you and Joel running and fighting for your lives for almost two weeks straight, stumbling from one disaster into the next, until finally, finally, you seemed to leave your losing streak behind.
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It had now been three whole days since the two of you had found yourselves in mortal danger last, and though it felt almost wrong to be hopeful for a peaceful stretch of days, you couldn't help but be just that.
Until, of course, you felt that familiar sharp pull in your abdomen.
Crap.
"You didn't happen to pack anything female-related when you packed this, did you?," you asked as you rifled through the contents of your backpack. Well, Joel's backpack really, since it was the one he'd bestowed upon you the night of your escape. Your own backpack was still back in Boston, probably picked apart by FEDRA by now, along with all of your other belongings.
"Like what?" Joel was poking at the fire he'd set out to build. The flames wouldn't quite take, a few feeble blue streaks dancing between the twigs he'd collected.
"Like, I don't know, a pad, maybe? Tampons, if I'm allowed to dream?" You had almost emptied out the entire backpack now, and even though the contents you were bringing to light were certainly useful, none of them were what you were looking for.
Joel looked up, a kind of perplexed look on his face. You took in his facial expression and sighed. "I'll take that as a no. Crap." You slumped down on your butt in defeat. "That's gonna be a problem."
Joel scratched behind his ear, looking somewhat uncomfortable. "Yeah. Sorry, kiddo. Wasn't on my radar when I was packing." It could've been the dim light of the barely lit fire playing a trick on your eyes, but you could've sworn that some color rose in his cheeks. You just sighed once more and shrugged. "Eh, can't blame ya. Not something I'd expect to be on the mind of a..." You looked at him, eyebrow raised. "...something year old man."
He snorted. Sparks flew up from the twigs as he kept poking around. "Fifty-six," he said after a little while. "If you must know."
"Huh."
"What." He eyed you over the now growing flames. It looked like he was ready for you to pounce on him.
"Nothing." You raised your arms in defense. "Just... wouldn't have thought so. I just mean," you quickly added when you saw the expression on his face, "you've held up better than I would've thought. Jeez, relax. I'm not coming for your age."
"Right. Cause you ain't been jabbin' at me for just about anythin' else. S'cuse me if I'm just prepared."
"Cause you been jabbin' at me for just about anything else," you mocked under your breath. "And I got a right to. Need I remind you, I wouldn't be in this mess if-"
"-I hadn't dragged you into it." He interrupted you with a groan. "Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first trillion times. You ever gonna let it go?"
You scowled at him over the flames. "No." He quirked an eyebrow at you, and the exhausted apprehension on his face made you crack up. "Fine. Maybe. The jury's still out on that."
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A day later, the sharp pull in your abdomen had grown into full-sized cramps, one of the four horsemen of your period riding in in full stride. You tried to ignore it as best as you could, but your period pains had always been on the worse side, sometimes leaving you crumpled into a ball on the floor. Your cramps could be debilitating, and a gnawing pit of worry formed in your stomach as the day went along.
Back in the QZ, you had your ways of coping: hot water bottles or hot potatoes wrapped in tinfoil tucked into a sweater so that their warmth radiated throughout your belly. There was even a bottle of emergency ibuprofen tucked away in a little secret corner of your bedroom. You longed for it now as the cramps begin to grow in intensity and longevity. You'd certainly planned to bring them along for your escape, but alas...
A groan escaped your lips as another cramp pulled on you from the inside. Your steps faltered and you leaned over for a moment with a hand pressed to your lower belly.
"Hey. You good?" Joel had been a few steps ahead of you, but he'd turned around at your groan. You'd been a trooper for the last two weeks, making him think more than once that getting you out hadn't been such a bad bet after all. You fought like hell, and when you weren't busy being mad at him, you followed orders quite well, especially when yours (or his) life depended on it.
Of course, he'd never say that out loud. You were still routinely giving him an earful about how he'd made you leave everything you owned behind, how you'd have had more time to properly prepare if he hadn't just dragged you into his mess, if he hadn't just kissed you that night-
You never missed a chance to remind him of all his wrongdoings, bickering on and on and on about the predicament you now found yourself in. As if he hadn't been the one to get you out. Sure, yeah, he did owe you as much after... having dragged you into his mess (his jaw clenched at the thought), but he'd paid his dues in full, as far as he was concerned. Hell, not only had he gotten you out in one piece, he'd even packed a whole get-away bag for you, survival essentials included. Had you thanked him for it? Certainly not. You hadn't complained about it either though, that was for sure, and Joel was certain that was about as much of a thanks as he was going to get from you.
You straightened, a somber and tight expression on your face as you nodded, but Joel could tell you were in more pain that you were letting on. Two weeks of fighting like crazy and just minutes of sleep to go on for days, and he hadn't heard a peep outta you. He had to give it to ya - you were tough, a fighter through and through. When you complained, it had nothing to do with where you slept, what you ate, who you fought. You just did it. He appreciated that quality in you. It made you a decent travel companion - if it wasn't for your bickering about everything else. That, he'd had decidedly enough of.
Today, though, you had been unusually quiet. You had yet to point an accusing finger at him, and though he could do without another finger pointed at his face for the rest of his life, he couldn't help but notice the change in your demeanor. Your pace was slower than the weeks before, even though you were now eating and sleeping better than you'd had in all previous fourteen days combined. Your movements seemed sluggish, almost lethargic, and you were hanging behind more often than not. This wasn't the first time you'd stopped either.
"We can rest for a moment, if you want." Joel gestured towards some trees on the side of the road. "Sit a moment in the shade. Catch our breath."
You looked like you were about to throw a snarky remark his way, but then you just nodded and trotted over to the patchy area of shade.
He sat down beside you with a groan, then stretched his aching legs out on the ground. Even if you thought he'd held up just fine, his legs certainly disagreed. If anything, they felt older than fifty-six. More like bordering on sixty.
Joel took a sip of his water, then nudged you with his elbow. You looked at him through hooded lids, exhaustion written all over your face. "Drink. Gotta stay hydrated."
Another wordless nod from you. No snarky comment. You got your own bottle out and gulped down a few sips.
"You sure you're good?" He eyed you carefully. There was a light sheen of sweat above your upper lip, some more pearls glistening on your forehead.
"I said as much, didn't I?"
Ah. There it was. Joel nodded. "There we go. Thought you were dyin' on me or somethin'."
You shot him a quizzical look.
"You haven't talked back to me all day. Was startin' to get worried," he shrugged with half a smile on his lips.
Your eyes narrowed at him. Joel Miller? Worried about you? Yeah, right. "What, you sweet on me or something, Miller?" A low chuckle rumbled through his chest. "Uh-huh. Glad to see you still got your wits about ya. C'mon." He got to his feet and dusted the dirt off his pants. "If you can jab, you can walk. Let's go."
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You knew you had a couple of hours, maybe less, until hell's gates would open and the floods would come raining down your legs. Literally.
At least your periods were dependable that way, always following the same pattern.
Evening was fast approaching, and so was a town in the distance, just down the hill that you and Joel had just reached the top of. He raised a hand to his eyes, shielding his view from the evening sun that hung low on the horizon.
"Best bet is to go around it," he assessed, one hand on his hip. "No way to tell what's waitin' down there. Easier if we don't find out."
"Yeah, umh, about that."
He turned to you, a golden glow around the outline of his head. He looked like an angel. You blinked, cleared your throat.
"I need to find some cloth. Preferably clean, but anything will do, really. I know there's a spare shirt in my backpack, but I really don't want to cut it up..."
Joel frowned at you, visibly not understanding what you were getting at.
"Pads, Joel. I need to make pads. I'm about to start bleeding like a slit throat. I'm talkin' Niagara Falls."
He blinked, scratched behind his ear. "...right. Yeah. Okay."
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It irked him that he hadn't thought of anything for your period. Granted, he hadn't had to deal with the topic in a long time, no woman in his life sticking around long enough (he made sure of that) that the topic could even come up. Still, he was a man who prided himself on being prepared, and he felt anything but as he helped you rummage through open and broken drawers to look for anything that might be useful.
You were tensing up more frequently now, pausing in whatever you were doing with shut eyes and a tight expression on your face. He knew what that meant, even if it had been a long time. You were cramping, and by the looks of it, quite hard.
Joel was irritated to find that he felt sorry for you. Though, no, that wasn't what irritated him. He may have been gruff and closed off on the outside, but he was still human after all, capable of empathy. What irritated him was the need he felt to alleviate your pain. More than once, he felt the urge to reach out and stroke your face, or worse even, to pull you into his arms into a comforting hug. Once, when your back was turned to him, he even saw his arm lifting on its own accord, and he had to bring it back down with his other hand before it made contact with you.
What the hell are you thinkin', he scolded himself. This ain't no more than a cargo run. She's cargo. Quit daydreamin'.
He scolded himself and then moved on, once, twice, thrice, until he had to tell himself off for the fourth time and he was beginning to get seriously pissed with himself. What was it with you that he kept thinkin' about touchin' you?
You were oblivious to his ordeal, having your own problems to deal with. You'd found some cloth that looked (and smelled) clean enough to be used as makeshift pads. Your hands made quick work of the fabric as you tore the old shirt into strips, then braided them into wider pieces until they roughly matched the length of the strip of fabric that connected the front of your panties to the back. Once that was done, you wrapped the braided piece fully around the bottom of a fresh pair of underwear, tying off the excess fabric when you had done so. It wasn't pretty, it was knobby and bound to be uncomfortable, but it was better than just wrapping pieces around the middle and hoping for the best. This way, you had a couple of layers underneath you, and if you didn't shuffle too much, the makeshift pad would perhaps stay in place. You sighed, inspecting your finished work. Behind you, Joel whistled. He sauntered over to inspect your work.
"Don't look too bad. You think this'll do?"
You eyed your handful of makeshift pads, a sorrowful look on your face. "It'll have to. But knowing my flow, I'll go through these in just a day - two, if I'm lucky..." Another wave of cramps tightened in your lower belly. You winced and leaned forward, one arm across your abdomen. A warm hand appeared on your shoulder.
"Tell you what. This town don't seem too dangerous. How 'bout we try and find a place here for tonight? Hm? Sleep in a real bed for a change?"
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Joel didn't need to ask twice. You seemed more than relieved that your journey today would go no further than a couple of houses down the street, which was where you found a suitable candidate to spend the night in.
It had probably been a beautiful townhouse once, back in the day, complete with a white picket fence and a front- and backyard to show for. Now, though, the garden was overgrown, the fence was hanging in pieces, paint littering off its remaining poles, and the house itself looked sad and empty, as if it was mourning the loss of its previous inhabitants.
Unlike the rest of the houses on the street though, this building seemed to have all its walls intact. That, and the fact that your steps were getting slower by the minute, was enough for Joel to declare this house as your designated sleeping spot for the night.
The two of you did a quick sweep of each room, making sure everything was safe and sound. It was strange how quickly a routine could settle between two people who'd been nothing but strangers just barely three weeks ago. It wasn't the first time this thought occurred to you either: yours and Joel's movements seemed to almost flow into one another as you cleared the house from bottom to top. It felt a little like you could anticipate his next move before he announced it, and vice versa. He'd even said as much to you after the first week of the two of you fighting for y'all's asses, talking about how maybe you weren't as much of a princess as he'd initially thought. You'd just rolled your eyes at the comment, but there had also been a feeling of pride settling in your chest that you'd been unable to ignore.
It came like you'd said it would. Not long after you had dropped yourself on one of the worn-out sofas in the living room, you felt a particularly harsh cramp cutting through your abdomen, before something warm trickled out of you. You groaned silently to yourself. So it had begun.
Joel watched you from the armchair next to the couch. He was using the last couple of hours of decent daylight to take stock of his backpack, checking it for tears and what not, taking inventory of his ammo and cleaning and sharpening his weapons. Besides the fact that it had to be done, it gave him something to do. Made him feel like he was doing something sensible, practical.
He didn't like to admit it to himself, but watching you writhe in pain on the couch beside him didn't sit right with him. Even though it had nothing to do with a lack of care on his side, he somehow, against all logic, felt responsible for how crappy you were feelin'. It didn't help either that kept tellin' himself off for it. Ain't none of yer business, he kept repeating in his head and re-focused on sharpening the blade in his hand, right before glancing back at you when you'd moan again in pain.
You were definitely going through it. Once the dam had broken, so to say, there was nothing you could do but lay on the couch and wallow in self-pity. By now, the cramps had settled into a steady churning pain that had settled in your abdomen like a straight line, going from one of your tubes to the other. Your lower back felt like something was trying to break through it from both sides, forming an immense pressure that spread up the rest of your back. As if that wasn't enough, your neck was tense, rock hard and unforgiving, uncomfortable in whatever position you brought yourself into. And then of course, there was the bleeding itself, and the occasional harsher cramp that pulled through your entire abdomen.
You were certainly going through it, and the last two weeks had been too demanding. When a cramp cursed through you, you didn't hold back your whimpers. You just didn't have it in you to care. Joel could think whatever he wanted - no uterus, no opinion, that was as far as your thinking went in regards to him as you laid on the couch and wallowed in pain.
You had to give it to him, though. He was being remarkably quiet about your whole ordeal. You'd expected some dry comments, something about pulling yourself together, woman, you're not dying, but so far, there had been none of that, not even a distasteful scoff at your moans. You did see him looking at you from time to time, and it must've been your hazy mind, but you could've sworn he looked almost sorry for you. Almost.
Hours passed, and your pain didn't let up, if anything, it only intensified. While darkness slowly settled over everything outside, you did anything but on the couch. You turned and tossed with every new wave of pain, trying with all your might to find at least one position that alleviated your pain, but nothing helped. You had just flipped yourself over on your stomach with a groan, burying your face in one of the cushions when Joel spoke up behind you.
"Alright, enough. C'mon."
There was a light tap on your leg, then a more determined nudge when you didn't move. "Hey, c'mon. Move."
You just groaned into your pillow. I ain't movin' nowhere, it meant, but then your legs were being picked up and slowly lowered, until your knees touched the ground. Begrudgingly, and with a very fed-up expression on your face, you lifted your head from the pillow to shoot icy daggers at Joel, who was now kneeling beside you.
"Don't gimme that look," he grumbled. "Just tryin' to help ya. C'mon." He motioned at the sofa cushion. "Put your head down, get comfortable. N' put your knees a bit more together, so I can fit behind you. There you go." He instructed you until you were kneeling in front of the couch how he wanted to, your head resting on your arms on the sofa cushion. Attagirl. He shimmied behind you with some difficulty, his old knees not cooperating with him as fast as they once did, but then he finally sat behind you in a position similar to yours.
"What'cha doin," he heard you murmur into the cushion and promptly shushed you. "Shh. You about to see. Now don't freak, but you about to feel my hands on you."
You had no idea what the hell he was getting up to, but you didn't have the strength to care. For all you cared, he could've taken you off the chessboard in this very moment, and you wouldn't have minded. Everything hurt too much. It was all you could focus on.
You felt Joel's large hands on your waist, then your shirt being lightly pulled up. "Hey! What-"
You did turn around at that, furrowed brows and all, only to be met with Joel's fed-up stare. "You trust me or not?"
It took a moment, but eventually you put your head back down, not without your lips drawing into a pout. Course, you trusted him by now. Even if you didn't like it very much.
Joel waited until your head was settled on the cushion again, then he brought up your top a bit, folding it over once so it'd stay up over your tailbone. It had been a while, since he'd done this - hell, a long, long while - but he couldn't sit by no more and watch you toss and turn in pain. He'd had about enough of that.
He laid his palms flat on your waist, letting you get acclimated to his touch first so you wouldn't turn around and bite his head off once more in a second. Then, when he felt like a good enough time had passed, he lightly lifted his thumbs and pressed them down on your lower back, your tailbone right in the middle of them. Carefully, he brought his thumbs upwards, drawing two straight lines into your skin while keeping his pressure firm.
Your response was almost immediate. Joel could see your tense shoulders going down just a smidge, your back relaxing as you let out an elongated 'oh' sound, accompanied by a deep sigh. "Attagirl," he murmured, one corner of his lips slightly quirking up. "Just relax into it. I got you." He kept repeating the motion, digging his thumbs into your lower back to bring you some relief. A picture of how he'd once done the same for Sarah's mother flit across his brain. He quickly shook his head, dismissing the memory as quickly as it had appeared.
It felt like heaven, how Joel was working his thumbs over your aching back. It did nothing to alleviate your pain in the front, but it still felt a million times better than tossing and turning on the worn out cushions of this dusty couch. Just like you hadn't held back with your moans of pain, you were now not holding back your moans of enjoyment. You'd never felt anything quite like it before. "Where'd you learn to do that?"
You heard Joel chuckle quietly behind you. "I know a thing or two, kiddo. Been around the block once or twice."
You just hummed in agreement, then let out a load moan once more as his fingers dug into a specifically delicate spot. "Fuck, Joel. Yeah. Right there."
Joel was just glad you had your head buried in the cushions of the sofa. Otherwise you would've seen what your moans were doing to him, and boy, were they doing a number on him. He'd been able to ignore your first few moans of pleasure, biting down hard on his tongue and closing his eyes to focus, but then his mind started projecting pictures onto his closed lids of you, below instead in front of him, making those same sweet sounds of pleasure while he touched you elsewhere -
His eyes flew open and he grunted, willing the pictures away with all his might. He tried staring at his hands instead, but that was a dumb idea, seeing as how he could see your delicate skin being worked underneath his thumbs then, his fingers drawing out another moan from your lips -
Next was the wall. He could've drilled holes into the flaky wallpaper, with how hard he was staring at it. He could feel the tips of his ears burning with embarrassment and he could only hope, pray that you wouldn't turn around anytime soon to see how your moans were visibly affecting him, specifically in his crotch area.
"Fuck, oh my god, right there, Joel." Your voice was breathy and needy, and Joel's eye twitched. The hell had he gotten himself into with this?!
He prodded your back, trying to find the spot you'd just referred to. "Right here, sweetheart?"
He saw your head bob as you nodded, a satisfied hum vibrating through you. "Mhh, yeah. That's - oof - that's the spot."
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He was digging himself his own grave, that much was for certain right now. He knew he should've stopped, should've went back to his armchair and returned to working on his gun, but he couldn't. It was like he was transfixed, glued in position like a fly to a trap. The whimpers falling from your mouth were too good to pass up, to sweet to resist. He hadn't had anything sweet in such a long time. And Joel was dying for a treat.
But he also knew it wasn't right. He knew it now and he knew it then, those few weeks ago when he'd grabbed you outside of your apartment and had kissed you out of the blue. You'd been shocked to say the least. The FEDRA guards had been on his heels and he'd needed to find a way to disperse of them quickly, and there you were, conveniently placed in his path like a lucky find, and his brain had snapped and he'd just gone for it. Pulled you into a kiss like you were his, hands flying up to your face to hold you in place. Your eyes had grown wide in shock and he'd briefly pulled his lips from yours to whisper to you. Work with me, please, I'll make it worth your while. His heart had drummed in his chest, a million silent prayers tumbling from his lips in the milli-second that it took you to subtly nod. A brief grin had flit over his lips before he'd crashed them back down on yours, kissing you like he'd been waiting to do so all day. And my god, had you worked with him. Your own hands had flown up to his head, one curling around the base of his neck and the other digging into his hair. He'd backed you up against the wall behind you, slowly walking you backwards until your back collided with the weathered bricks, and you had actually moaned into his mouth, much like you were doing now. It had sent his head reeling, and though Joel was not a man of faith, he'd briefly thanked whatever God he had seemingly pleased enough to allow him this sweet of a distraction.
The guards had trampled around the corner then, their heavy footsteps a stark contrast to the sweet moans falling from your lips. They'd cleared their throat - ahem - and Joel had unwillingly detangled himself from you enough to cast a look at them over his shoulder. What? A man can't make out with his girl in the street? Their eyes had wandered from you to him, and he saw then what they were seeing: a man in his mid-fifties pressing a what, late twenties? Early thirties? woman to the wall, her face all flustered, hair disheveled from where Joel's hands had dug into it. He'd seen the envy plastered on their faces, heard the murmurs. Lucky bastard. A triumphant grin had played around his lips, even though he knew he was treading on thin fucking ice. That he was indeed, a lucky bastard.
His luck had only lasted so long, though. When the guards had disappeared, he all but saw lucky stars in his eyes when you invited him up to your apartment. Was he really going to get that lucky?
Heavens, no. He'd been brought down back to earth swiftly when you had stood in front of him, crossed arms and expectant look on your face. So? What was that? He shrugged nonchalantly. What was what?
You, though, as he quickly came to learn, were not to be underestimated. You made him tell you in detail why the guards had been after him, then practically foamed at the mouth when he reluctantly explained what he'd been up to that afternoon.
It hadn't even been that big of a deal, just a casual, run-of-the-mill drug run, but you didn't seem to share his sentiment. Casual? Run-of-the-mill? He'd had to shush you from how loud you were screeching. Didn't you know the damn walls had ears?
My god, you could talk. Bicker, was the more fitting term. Or nag, really. You went on and on about how he'd went and done it now, how he'd fucked up your life, all because he had to go and get you involved in something that you had absolutely no interest in -
That was the first time your finger had flown into his face, all accusing and threatening, like you could do him any harm with just the tip of your index finger. Boy, had he been tempted to smack it out of his face. But he didn't. As much as he hated to admit it - you had a point. By putting you on the map as his lover, he had likely put you in a lot more danger than you were even realizing at the moment.
He'd tried to put you out of his mind. Even after you had made him promise to get you out of the QZ as a 'reward' - You owe me, Joel Miller - he'd tried not to think about you, not until his next run out of the city at least, which is when he planned to make good on his promise. Until then, he wouldn't think about you. You'd just turn into another headache, another problem he'd have to deal with, and he had enough of those as it was. Not to mention that he was almost twice your senior. He didn't have many principles anymore, but he still had some. And hell if he didn't at least stick to those anymore.
He kept his resolve up for all but two hours, when he was back in his apartment, laying in his bed and unable to sleep. You kept drifting through his mind, bickering and foaming at the mouth and red in the face, telling him how he'd went and fucked up your life, but more than that how your lips had felt on his, how sweet your mouth had tasted, how delicious your moans had sounded in his ear -
Fuck it. Joel growled and shoved his hand into his boxers. He'd rub one out to you, just once. Surely that would get you off his mind.
Well, it did, sort of. Until he was in bed again the next night, and he found himself with his cock in his hand once more, thinking about your lips and how they'd felt on him, and how they'd feel wrapped around his cock instead of his own hand -
He groaned as his release painted over his stomach, white silken strands mixing with the soft curls on his belly as he silently cursed you, then himself. The hell had he gotten himself into?
So of course he'd had no choice but to come and get you when he got intel that he was the subject of the upcoming raid, that very night. He barely had time to prepare two backpacks with the bare necessities before he went out to find you.
How all of that had brought him here, kneeling behind you as the sweetest moans fell from your mouth once more - he didn't know. Joel couldn't tell whether you were a blessing or a curse, if you were the price he had to pay or the price he received. Seeing as how his life had gone though, it was unlikely that you were the latter.
And yet he couldn't help but feel like he'd won when he brought his thumbs down on on the sides of your lower spine and earned a low moan in return, long and elongated and putting all kinds of pictures into his mind that his head momentarily fell to his chest, a pained expression painted across it.
No, no. You were both. A blessing and a curse.
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Series Masterlist - Mobile Masterlist
Credits: plant divider by @strangergraphics
A/N: Well, here we are. Like I said, the idea for this was born while needing comfort on my own period, and then this monstrosity flowed from my fingertips and eventually I realized that perhaps, 9.3k words were perhaps a bit too much for a oneshot, especially when said oneshot wasn't complete yet. Ahem. So! Here you have the first half of what is undoubtedly going to turn into a filthy, filthy second part. 🙃 I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did, I was kicking my feet giggling while writing this, lol.
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No pressure taglist:
@peekyourinterest @vickie5446 @noisynightmarepoetry @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @picketniffler
@frogsdeservelovetoo @orcasoul @ashleyfilm @elli3williams @missladym1981
@spotty-boo90 @iamsherlocked-1998 @axshadows @justajoelsreader @oldmenenthusiast
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dark-konohagakure2 · 1 day ago
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Fugaku Uchiha mistakes his daughter for his wife and ravages her pussy without shame.
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tw: incest, father/daughter, accidental incest, noncon, drunk sex, abuse, cheating, somnophilia, manipulation
All characters depicted are 18+
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Fugaku is a very busy man, being the head of the Uchiha Clan, a husband, and a father of three, it can get very stressful, and while he's usually able to take it in stride, even he can get stressed out a times, to the point where he could really use a drink to take the edge off. He only really drinks when Mikoto is out of the house, he doesn't want his beloved wife to worry about him after all. Fugaku was only planning on sharing a few drinks with the police force, but one thing leads to another, and now he's coming home drunk in the dead of night.
He isn't terribly disoriented, but the liquor has made his mind a bit hazy, making it difficult to see, especially in the dark house, not only that, but the effects of the alcohol have gone straight to Fugaku's cock, leaving him with a leaking hard on that only his wife can fix. He knows how understanding and eager to please him Mikoto is, so he'll drunkenly look for her before quickly finding her. Fugaku's befuddled mind doesn't question why she looks a bit shorter, or why she's in their daughters bed.
Being drunk off his ass, Fugaku isn't really thinking straight, instead letting the head between his legs do all the thinking for him, a rare moment of irresponsibility for the clan head as he clumsily sheds his pants, just barely able to line up with the correct hole before thrusting into his 'wife' with a moan. All is well at the beginning, he's feeling relief for the first time in weeks, but he pauses for a moment upon realizing that it's not his wife he's fucking, it's his daughter.
If Fugaku was sober, he might consider stopping, but he's not in a sober state of mind, the only thing on his mind right now is getting off after such a stressful week, and if his wife isn't available, his daughter is the next best thing. She's old enough to get fucked, and inbreeding isn't very frowned upon in any of the major clans, so Fugaku feels no shame about what he's doing.
"Fuck... My mistake... you just look so much like your mother that I thought you were here... You're just as beautiful as her... and even tighter than she is..."
He's now completely aware that he's fucking his own daughter, but he's either too drunk or too horny to care. Fugaku has been needing this release for ages now, so surely his girl can be a good girl for her daddy and take whatever he dishes out, for his sake. He'll also cover her mouth with his hand as he's ravaging her pussy, he doesn't want her brothers hearing what he's doing to her, or gods forbid her mother walks in.
Fugaku is usually a precise and coordinated man, but all of that goes out the window when hes inebriated, his hips are shaky and sloppy as he pounds her into the mattress, his moans slurred while he practically drools over him. He's still able to maintain a small modicum of his usual strict personality despite his intoxication, reprimanding her if she struggles too much or makes too much noise.
The alcohol will loosen his lips somewhat, making Fugaku much more talkative than usual, although his words are slurred and just hardly legible, he'll switch between praising and degrading his daughter as he's recklessly pounding her tight cunt, letting her know how good her pussy feels compared to Mikoto's and how badly her daddy needed some pussy after the week he's been having.
He won't pay much mind to where he finishes, if he cums inside of or onto her body is of little concern. His main priority is getting to cum, and where he does it is of no consequence to him. In a moment of post orgasm clarity, Fugaku will have enough clarity to give her a demand before leaving her be for the night.
"That's my girl... Always so eager to please her daddy... Now don't tell your mother about any of this... We don't want to cause even more problems for the clan now do we..?"
Mikoto is going to start wondering why her husband has been so distant with her lately, rarely getting intimate with her anymore. Fugaku will assure his dear wife that their clan needs him now more than ever and that he's been too busy working on creating a better future for all of them, when in reality the true reason is that he's found a much tighter hole to stick his cock in every night.
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brujamala-aka-gigi · 3 days ago
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"time will tell" ... but what exactly?
i thought about making this reading because we are living at times when we all know that patience is a virtue, we all know that we should work on said virtue, and so on, yet, things move are always seemingly moving in the fastest chaotic way possible. for some of us, embracing uncertainty and the absurd ways of the universe is hard. so hopefully there's something in here that helps you to have a clearer vision on what is meant to come to you with time and experience.
dividers by: @bernardsbendystraws & @cafekitsune pngs by: @florietas
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pile number one pile number two
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pile number three pile number four
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.‧͙˚ *༓ scroll down for the readings ⋆ִ ‧͙⁺˚
masterpost ✶ pac readings ✶ tarot menu
✶ ko-fi page (support and tarot services) ✶
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before starting with this reading i just want to say that my heart goes to anyone on the united states that feels disappointed and is going through emotionally stressful situations due to the results of the elections. at times like this is important to find empowerment and safety by taking care of our peers and participating our communities, political organization is just as important as caring for one another. having a right wing president who borders fascism is not a great experience, i have my own alt right president here in south america, but surviving these moments is easier when you find strength alongside the people who share your ideals.
we don't owe tolerance to those who are intolerant, our time is always better spent when we are building the future we want or doing our best to face the adversities of the present. please, do not allow others to take away your humanity and your hopes.
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・₊✧⋆ pile number one ⭒˚。⋆
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If someone ever told you that your expectations are unrealistic, they are not wrong, but not entirely right either. I think you're someone who unconsciously tries to be aware of every possible outcome and every single detail, it's quite a hyper vigilant way of approaching things and also a quite anxiety inducing one. I wouldn't say your expectations are unrealistic, but I would definitely say they are realistic in the context of the millions of head scenarios you have going on. Some emotions are being limited by logic and some logics are being limited by emotion. There are plenty of experiences that are coming your way in order to give you the opportunity to be more present in the moment instead of experiencing things mostly in your head. You need time to further develop your judgment, as of now it is something that is in an adolescent state, not because of immature or juvenile thinking, but because you are going through a, hopefully, slightly painful phase of your mental growth. Think of it as existential growing pains. You might have too much information, too much to think about and too much to feel about, it's a very difficult moment for you to maintain a self perceived stable or coherent point of view at all times. Take this time to comprehend what's making you feel paralyzed and unable to move forward mentally, and then you can begin doing something about this conjunction of mental and emotional stress.
・₊✧⋆ pile number two ⭒˚。⋆
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What I get from this combination of cards is that you are becoming more aware of the things that are threatening your higher self. From the Queen and the Page I can see that you are usually almost confident enough in what you bring to the table in terms of material achievements that are easily recognizable, although not always perceived or valued enough by yourself or others. I don't think I want to say there's someone or yourself gaslighting you into belittling yourself, but I do want to mention that it's likely that there's a sketchy energy near you or at least the cards are giving a heads up about negative reactions to you doing your thing and, to say simply, slaying it. What it is safe to say tho is that with time you will learn who is worthy of your generosity and your companion. It's key that you understand that any kind of success you achieve is not only valuable because of what you got from it, the value comes from what you did to get said achievements. With this in mind, don't hesitate to avoid others who drain your energy and misuse your time. Your presence by itself it's already enough for others to benefit at your cost. This is not something meant to give you a reason to be overly distrustful, this is to give you reasons to set boundaries, specially for yourself, in order to make sure whoever or whatever brings you down, it's out of your way. If people see the respect you have for yourself, it's more likely they are not even trying to waste your time.
・₊✧⋆ pile number three ⭒˚。⋆
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Being emotionally attached to the person you were in the past is obstructing your path towards further personal and existential growth. I definitely understand that sometimes the only thing that gives us a sense of stability is our own identity, and our power to define ourselves in our own terms. I don’t think you are afraid to grow or to evolve as a person, but I can see that right now you are resisting change by ignoring your intuitive need to expand your limits and find out about all the things, the positive and negative,that you choose to ignore because of old fears and anxieties. It’s very likely you know exactly what to do or what to keep and what to let go off,  you certainly are aware of where to go and how to get there. What's conflicting with your ambitions right now is that you have exhausted yourself by never taking the time to appreciate how far you already are from plenty of situations that have restricted your authentic self. I honestly understand what it's like to make a lot of progress after moving away from tough situations only to realize there is more work to do in order to restore or find an integral state of peace of mind and contempt. In your case, you’re lucky because sooner or later your emotions will lead you to how you can be truthful to yourself and experience life without any of the weight from limiting perceptions that other people have imposed on you. Many things have limited time in our lives, don’t miss out on them.
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・₊✧⋆ pile number four ⭒˚。⋆
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Don't force yourself to be the first to do anything or the best at anything if you're comparing yourself to others. It is not fair to set your expectations about yourself by looking at what is supposably perfect or highly desirable, yet not a true reflection of what you as an individual can accomplish in a way that's genuine to your personal journeys. It's necessary that you embrace your experiences, putting yourself and your own ideals as the guide for what it means to advance and grow. Time will show you how to build a stronger confidence in your core beliefs and how to act upon them with the efficiency and courage you might be needing right now. This will develop as you become more comfortable with allowing yourself to fail, and to learn from said failures by setting structures to support the process of becoming more connected to a higher sense of self worth. You are going through a process in which key communicational aspects are at play;  many of your personal achievements will depend on your ability to share your ideas with others before taking any kind of action, as many things you’ll do will have long lasting effects. This is why I would recommend making sure you can really align your actions, your communication and your goals directly to yourself and the roots of your ideals. Don’t hurry up, it takes time to evolve and you will certainly do so by comprehending how equally confused, disoriented and impulsive we all are, and how that’s nothing anyone can ignore for too long.
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if you enjoyed this post, maybe you should check out the rest of my account <3 and keep an eye open for ask games and a tarot reading giveaway (but lets not hurry too much about it please im still figuring out the logistics of a tumblr giveaway jajaja)
masterpost ✶ pac readings ✶ ko-fi page ✶
⋆bookings for personal readings are open ཐིཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺
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larluce · 2 days ago
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Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU (SERIES 2)
FIRST PART (SERIES 1) >> PREVIOUS PART >> NEXT PART
Somehow, Arthur and Merlin end up lying in bed, making out. Things float around the room. Curiously enough, the vases with Merlin's flowers remain in their place.
Arthur: (on top of Merlin, pulls away a bit, looks around, suprised, and then looks back at Merlin)
Merlin: (embarrased and nervous) I didn't mean to! I'm sorry! (lowers the things to their places inmediatly) My magic is linked to my emotions and does that sometimes when my emotions are strong. I normally have good control of it! It hasn't done that in years, I swear!
Arthur: In years?
Merlin: Since I was a kid.
Arthur: (smiles smugly) So... you basically love me so much your magic makes things fly when we kiss?
Merlin: (scolds) Oh, don't go getting a big head! (but he can't help but smile too cause he's relieved Arthur is not freaking out about it) But yes. (blushes more)
Arthur: (mockingly) Now you are going to tell me the butterflies in Leon's chambers were also cause by your magic.
Merlin: ...
Arthur: (pretends to be surprised) They were?!
Merlin: (slaps his chest) Shut up!
Arthur: I'm the Prince, Merlin. You can't shut me up-
Merlin: (kisses him)
Arthur: (Kisses back)
Merlin: (rolls them so he is on top of Arthur and separates the kiss) You were saying? 😏
Arthur: Oh, you can shut me up all you want. (kisses him again)
Kissing Merlin is magic in all senses of the word. Like a breath of air after being underwater drowning, like drinking water after being walking for hours in a hot desert. Arthur never felt more alive, and he is sure of it because, for a long time, he has been dying.
When Merlin told him he loved him just before turning into a tree, he couldn't enjoy it properly. First he was dying, then he was too devasted about Merlin's fate to think in Merlin's last words. The following months the knowlegde of Merlin's feelings started to take place in his mind, but he was too focus on finding a way to fix Merlin's state while being dead inside to dwell on it. It was in the very second he realised he was in love with Merlin, has been for a very long time, that those words hunted him and his already eternal pain turned into agony. Because he realised he wasn't really dead inside. He was still dying, never stopped dying since that day. Constantly dying but never reaching death and that was worst than being dead inside.
So Arthur began picturing "could have been's", even if that only brought him more agony afterwards, it also gave him some sort of relief, hope. Kissing Merlin’s mouth with his own being one of the most recurrent imaginations. And, once he traveled back in time, it was all he could dream of. Every time he encounter Merlin, everytime they were close or Merlin smiled at him. He's been dying to hear his "I love you" again and to kiss those lips so, so much. None of his fantasies live up to this woderful reality.
He was dying and now he is alive.
Merlin: (between kisses, almost a whisper) Gods, I love you.
Arthur: (separates the kiss, breathless) Say it again.
Merlin: (still kind of dizzy from the kiss) Uhm?
Arthur: (almost a plead) Say it.
Merlin: Want to inflate your ego so much?
Arthur: Merlin!
Merlin:(softens his expression and smiles, caressing Arthur's face) I love you.
Arthur: (holding himself from crying cause he's finally able to enjoy, he's finally able to say it back) I love you too.
And they keep on kissing. Arthur puts himself on top of Merlin again and, despite his hunger for him, he's gentle and careful. Still wanting to be respectful, his hands touch and caress over the clothes. Merlin, however, is making that task quite difficult, spreading his legs and his hands exploring under Arthur's shirt. Arthur is barely aware of the things in his rooms flying around again and even some jars breaking at some point. The only thing in his mind is Merlin, Merlin, Merlin.
Leon: (shouting from outside) MY LORD!
Merlin and Arthur: (pull away from each other quickly and the things fall)
Leon: (enters, almost breaking the door down, sword in hand) My lord! Are you... (looks Merlin and Arthur on the bed in quite a state and then the state of the room that is basically a mess. Then turns around, embarrased) My-my apologies. I heard noises and though someone was attacking you, Sire. I-I'll come back later-
Merlin: (all red) No! It's fine. I was leaving. (gets off the bed)
Arthur: (gets off the bed too) Merlin, don't forget- (but when he stands up his trousers fall to the floor)
Merlin: (wide eye, brings his hands to his mouth)
Leon: ...
Arthur: (looks down and then looks at Merlin)
Merlin: (thinking, blushing more than ever) 😳 Oh, gods! Did I do that? When did I untie the laces? Or was it my magic? Nooo how embarrassing! 😫😱 (says with a strangled voice and trying very hard to keep a straight face) Don't forget what, my lord?
Arthur: (also blushing, as he puts his trousers back on) The list of chores I gave you before we...eh... before.
Merlin: (confused) What list- (remembers the list of suspects) Oh, right! (looks around the room and picks up the parchment) I'll see right to it, Sire. (leaves, passing Leon quickly)
Arthur: (to Leon) So... since you interrupted us, better make it worth it.
Leon: The king wants to know if you already have the list of suspects, Sire.
Arthur: I have it. Gather the men. We'll arrest them inmediatly. I just have to... (signals his disheveled self) put myself decent.
Leon: Uhmm... do you... (holding himself from laughing, but can't help but grin) want me to call Merlin for that Sire?
Arthur: Very funny. (orders) Out, Leon.
Leon: Yes, Sire. (bows and is about to leave, but turns to comment) Nice decoration, Sire. (leaves, closing the door behind him)
Arthur: (confused) Decoration? (looks around and notices Merlin's flowers have grown from the vases like vines covering the sufarce near them) This corny idiot. (but he is smiling as he says it)
Merlin manages to warn in advance some of the suspects with Lancelot's help, going house to house. But, as Arthur predicted, several still were arrested in the end.
Time skip. Uther, Arthur, Merlin and the knights in the throne room.
Uther: Have all the suspects been arrested?
Arthur: Most of them. A few have gone to ground.
Uther: Issue a proclamation. All the prisoners will be executed unless the perpetrator of this attack is found.
Merlin: (thinking, affected but not suprised) You wanted to kill them either way.
Arthur: (knowing this was coming, with resignation) I'll see to it, Sire. (thinking) Maybe I can make the suspects part of the sacrifice? That way their deaths won't be in vane. Gods, I don't want to. They are innocents, but I did everything I could to save them and helping them escape would be too suspicious.
Morgana: (enters suddenly, screaming desperate) NO! YOU CAN'T! (runs inside)
Arthur: (very surprised since Morgana hasn't left her chambers in days) Morgana?
Morgana: (to Uther) My lord, none of them are at fault of what happened! They didn't cause the fire!
Uther: We can't be sure of that, Morgana.
Morgana: I am! I am sure because it was me!
Arthur and Merlin: (pale, about to have a heart attack)
Uther: What?
Morgana: I caused the fire.
Arthur: (aproaches, putting himself between Morgana and his father) I think what Morgana is trying to say is that she believes she caused the fire by accident. Maybe lighting the candle at night too close to he curtain. Right, Morgana? (gives her an anxious "don't be stupid and play along with me. WTF do you think you are doing!" look)
Morgana: (ignores him) No, it was magic. I did it with magic.
Merlin: (thinking, in panic) I thought I was the only one who did this kind of madness!
Arthur: (holds Morgana by the shoulders) Morgana, I understand that you don't want these people to die and that you feel guilty. But you don't have to make up this nonsense. None of this is your fault.
Morgana: I'm not making anything up! (to Uther) My lord, you have to believe me I-
Arthur: (shouts, urgently) Merlin, take her out. NOW!
Merlin: (as he takes her out) I'll take you to your chambers, my lady. You still need to rest.
Morgana: (struggling) NO! I'M NOT LYING! I'M A- (but she's dragged out of the room)
Arthur: (to Uther, nervous) You surely don't believe she actually has magic, right father? Is clearly that she is overwhelmed and still very distressed. She never liked when you executed people.
Uther: (with an unreadable expression) Indeed, but she never went as far as to confess she has magic just to stop me.
Arthur: Well, is also the first time you threaten to execute these many people, Sire.
Uther: (with barely contained rage) I know exactly what is happening.
Arthur: (sweats)
Uther: She was enchanted!
Arthur: (sighs in relief)
Uther: Forget the proclamation. They ALL will be executed before sunset! (leaves)
Arthur: (thinking) Shit...
Meanwhile, Merlin dragging Morgana around the halls.
Morgana: Let go of me!
Merlin: Morgana, calm down.
Morgana: I won't calm down! These people are going to be killed because of me!
Merlin: Declaring yourself a sorceress won't save them!
Mogana: (shouts) I'M NOT LYING!
Merlin: (shouts back) I KNOW YOU ARE NOT LYING!
Silence. Morgana stops struggling.
Morgana: ... What?
Merlin: (more quietly) I know you are not lying.
Morgana: You...
Merlin: (puts a finger on his lips in a sign of silence and whispers) Can we go somewhere private?
Time skip. In Morgana's chambers.
Morgana: So... you knew? Since when?
Merlin: A while. Your dreams were my first sign. Those are visions that only seers can have.... And only people with magic can be seers.
Morgana: (hurt and angry) You knew all this time what was happening to me... and you didn't tell me?!
Merlin: I wanted to! But I didn't want to freak you out or to force you to accept something maybe you weren't ready to accept or share. I was waiting for you to tell me when you were ready.
Morgana: (sarcastic) Right. So then I would lower my guard and you could stab me in the back!
Merlin: (confused)...what?
Morgana: I saw you in my dream. Giving me poisoned water. (her eyes water but remains angry) I trusted you, you were my friend, and you poisoned me!
Silence. Merlin steps back, like he's been slapped in the face. First his eyes widen in shock, then his expression softens in understanding and, finally, hurt.
Merlin: You said "you were my friend"... Are we not friends now?
Morgana: A friend of mine would never do that to me!
Merlin: You are right and I haven't. And I won't.(thinking) Not in this life. Never in this life. Please, believe me.
Morgana: Then why did I dream that?!
Merlin: I don't know! But I would never hurt you! Morgana- (aproaches, trying to put a comforting hand on her shoulder)
Morgana: (steps back and yells) Stay away from me!
Merlin: (retreats his hand, his eyes watering) Oh... I see. I can't blame you.
Morgana: Blame me? For what?
Merlin: For believing in a vision of a possible future before believing in me.
Why would he? It's true he didn't inmediatly think illy of Morgana when Kilgharrah told him she would be evil and do harm, but he did stop himself from helping her directly because of that. He left her alone and then betrayed her because of his own fear which only led her to become what she became in the end. He is the last person that can judge her. Still, he can't help but sound sad and hurt. Not only because of her words, but because he wasn't prepare to lose her friendship again.
Has... has he lost her again?
No! He won't give up. He'll fight for her this time. Convince her he means no harm. That she can trust her. No matter how much it costs him.
But for now is clear Morgana doesn't want him near, so he'll repect that and let her be.
Morgana: (feeling bad at Merlin's words) Merlin...
Merlin: (blinks to stop the tears in his eyes and masters a polite smile) It's alright, my lady. I understand completely. My apologies for disturbing you. I won't come near you again unless you want me to. (bows and starts leaving)
Morgana: Wait! (stops him by the arm) I'm sorry. You are right. That was unfair of me. I can't hold you for something you haven't committed.
Merlin: I understand, my lady.
Morgana: Don't call me that! (to herself) Gods, now I understand Arthur. (to Merlin) Merlin, I still want to be your friend. I do believe you, I was just scared and I took it out on you. Please, forgive me.
Merlin: (thinking, relief and emotional) She confronted me about her vision and then apologized. She is so much better than I ever was (says, smiling) Of course.
Morgana: (hugs him) I'm so sorry. I was a terrible friend.
Merlin: (hugging her back) It's alright. Morgana, I wasn't lying when I said I understood. (pulls away) I'm also very scared that you dreamt that, even when I know I don't have any intention of poisoning you or harm you in any way. (thinking) It does worry me a lot. Why did she dream that?
Morgana: Maybe... someone will force you to do it?
Merlin: Maybe. But I don't want there to be the slightest possibility. So... I will give you the perfect weapon to defend yourself from me.
Morgana: (horrified at the idea) No! Merlin, there's no need. I believe you would never hurt me, I really do.
Merlin: I know. But the fear will always be there and if you dreamt it, we may as well do something to prevent it.
Morgana: I don't-
Merlin: Please, let me. If not for your sake, then for mine. Please.
Morgana: (sighs) Fine.
Merlin: (holds her hand an enchants) Blóstmá. (his eyes glow and a flower appears in her hand)
Morgana: (stunned) Wh... what? 😧
Merlin: I'm a sorcerer. A warlock really.
Morgana: What's the difference?
Merlin: Sorcerers have to learn spells and enchantments to master magic. I, on the other hand, didn't have to learn anything to be able to do magic. I just have it.
Morgana: (emotional) Like... me?
Merlin: (nods and smiles) That's the weapon I give you. Now a word of you is enough to kill me.
Morgana: You also know I'm a sorceress.
Merlin: You think Uther would believe the word of a servant over yours? He couldn't even believe yours when you told him.
Morgana: (facepalms herself at the memory) Ugh, I was so stupid!
Merlin: (laughs softly) I'm sure Uther didn't believe it. (turns serious again) But he would believe you if you told him about me.
Morgana: I would never turn you in.
Merlin: Just as I would never hurt you. But just in case, now you are safe.
Morgana: (watches the flower in her hand, her eyes watering) I always been taught that magic is evil, that it corrupts your soul.
Merlin: It is not! (picks up the flower) Magic is not evil, nor is good. It just is. (the flower floats in his hand, moving its petals like a butterfly) Is how you decide to use it that matters. And your magic is a gift, capable of wonderful things.
Morgana: I almost burned down my room.
Merlin: Because you were scared. With time you'll learn how to control it. (the flower floats back to Morgana's hand) I will teach you how to control it.
Morgana: (excited) You will?
Merlin: If you let me, of course.
Morgana: (tears of happiness roll down her eyes) I'd love to.
Merlin smiles. Morgana wouldn't be alone this time. He'll make sure of it.
Time skip. In Arthur's chambers, which is not a mess anymore, though the vines of flowers weren't removed.
Arthur: (in his desk, looking defeated)
Merlin: (enters suddenly) I know how to save them!
Arthur: (confused) Who?
Merlin: The suspects! (sits on Arthur's table infront of him) Uther wants to execute them because he can't find the responsible for the fire in Morgana's chambers, right?
Arthur: Yes.
Merlin: So we just have to take the person responsible to the King before sunset. There, problem solved.
Arthur: (sarcastic) Wow... what brilliant idea, Merlin! Why didn't it occurred to me before? Oh, right. Because there is no one responsable!
Merlin: True, because it was... eh... the thunder. But! What if we could make one up?
Arthur: (more confused)...what?
Merlin: Here me out. I know there is an informant in the castle. Probably a spy from Odin, because he was the one who let Myror get in the castle so he could kill you.
Arthur: (very surprised) Wha-How do you know that?
Merlin: Myror kind of let it slip before he tried to slit my throat.
Arthur: WHAT?! 😨
Merlin: (explains quickly) He entered my room and I defeated him using magic, that's why I didn't tell you. So the informant-
Arthur: (almost shouting) You can't tell me you were almost murdered and expect me to-
Merlin: Let it go, I know. We'll talk about my almost assesination attempt later, I promise. Now focus. I know who this informant is. He was the only one who seemed surprised when you woke up alive the next day. And guess who it is?
Arthur: Who?
Merlin: Bentley!
Arthur: (making memory and then his eyes widen with surprised) That's one of Morgana's guards!
Merlin: Which gives him direct access to her chambers.
Arthur: And you think he was behind the fire in Morgana's chambers too?
Merlin: No, but... he could be... easily blamed for it?
Arthur: ...
Merlin: (sighs) Look, I know this is dishonrable and vile. But you have to understand-
Arthur: I'll do it.
Merlin: (surprised) Really? 😧
Arthur: Being informant of Odin alone would be enough for my father to execute him. Adding him one more crime won't change that. He can take the blame.
Merlin: (still perplexed that Arthur agreed to this so easily, but decides not to dwell on it) Oh... Okay.
Arthur: So, do you have any proof? I'm guessing you've been investigating him for a while.
Merlin: (gets some letters out of his pocket) I got these from his room. (gives them to Arthur and he starts reading them) Supposedly they are from a distant relative and they don't say nothing incriminatory. But I know they are from Odin! They must be coded or something. But I haven't been able to decipher them.
Arthur: (thoughtfully as he analyses one letter) Uhm... The messages are very brief. (stretches the parchment) Yet he used a lot of parchment (points the candle in the table) Light the candle.
Merlin: (gets off the table and starts leaving)
Arthur: (stops him) Where are you going?
Merlin: I need the nips to light the candle.
Arthur: With your magic, Merlin!
Merlin: Oh, right! (blushes) Sorry, the habit. (his eyes glow and lights the candle)
Arthur: (puts the letter near the fire and finds the hidden message) It's invisible tint. (looks at Merlin triumphal, smiling) We have him.
So Bentley is bring before the king, accused of both helping in Arthur's assesination attempt and the attack on Morgana. The guard confesses to be informant of Odin but denies being behind the fire. Not even when Arthur shows the proof: fragments of a vase with a weird smell, which Merlin "found" when he helped cleaning Morgana's chambers the day of the attack, that turned out to be a part of incendiary chemical weapon known as Greek Fire. And both the invisible tint and the Greek Fire were greek technices. Gaius supports the theory and adds that the prolonged exposure to the smell of the chemical could have "effects on the brain" which was probably what made Morgana "delirious". Bently still denies being part of the attack, but the King has had enough. He is sentenced to beheading and, since magic was never behind the attack on Morgana, all the suspects are realeased.
Time skip. At night. In Arthur's chambers.
Merlin: (after he finishes changing Arthur's clothes) Thank you. I know it mustn't have been easy for you. Lie to your father like that and make that man take the blame, even if he was already a bad person.
Arthur: ...
Merlin: Arthur?
Arthur: (whispering, to himself) It was actually too easy.
Merlin: (not sure he heard correctly, frowns, confused) Uhm?
Arthur: (holds his hands) Merlin, I have to tell you something. It's nothing bad and it's going to sound crazy once you hear, but you've been honest with me, so I want to be honest with you too.
Merlin: Okay.
Arthur: I... I'm not... I'm from...
Merlin: (worried) What? Arthur, you are shaking. (puts a hand on Arthur's shoulder) Are you okay?
Arthur: (sighs) I'm afraid of sleeping.
Merlin: Oh... is this because of that nightmare?
Arthur: (nods, embarrased) I've been having them for a while. But lately, they are turning worse.
Merlin: What are they about?
Arthur: I... don't remember once I wake up, but the feeling stays there.
Merlin: (knows Arthur is probably lying, but he doesn't push it, respecting his privacy) I don't recall you having nightmares when we were in the farm.
Arthur: Because we slept in the same bed-well, floor there. (holds Merlin by the waist) Your presence always fly the nightmares away.
Merlin: (mocks) Awww, who is being cheesy now? (but blushes at Arthur closeness) Maybe I could... you know... sleep with you tonight.
Arthur: (opens his eyes wide and smirks)
Merlin: (slaps his shoulder) Just to sleep, you pervert!
Arthur: I didn't say anything!
Merlin: And it will be just for tonight. To scare the nightmares away.
Arthur: Of course. Just for tonight.
And from then on, Merlin will never sleep in his chambers ever again.
...
In with this "The Nightmare Begins" ends.
Hope you enjoyed it ^^
Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace , @starrieisdelusional , @error-username-not-available , @dogberryrowan , @jamieweasley13 , @tansyuduri , @tercais , @robynnemrys , @evadne01 , @serasvictoria02 , @hairdryerducks , @curiously-lazy , @harriettesthings , @andrealux16 , @wacko-weirdo , @greatdonutenemy , @yougottobekittenme , @anxiousosaurus , @kinkforwings , @someweirdassnamee , @impracticalantlers , @miyriu , @hobipabo , @whitemaskcd , @bogslob , @braziiis , @rubinaitoart , @thebigoblin , @toomanyfanficsbruh , @farmboyprince , @nonsensefunsense
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robo-writing · 12 hours ago
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we’re being horny on main ?? BEAUTIFUL. LETS GO GIRLS (gender neutral)
imagine period sex with Logan, y’all start making out and reader stops him before it goes too far to let him know that it’s shark week. He asks:
“You sayin’ that because you think I’ll find it gross, or because you feel gross and don’t want to fuck right now.”
because sadly men tend to find period sex disgusting and maybe it makes reader feel gross in return. Logan assures them that he’s seen plenty of blood in his lifetime and had plenty on his hands as well, he literally doesnt give a fuck about period blood. he just wants to make his pretty baby feel good, and orgasms help ease cramps too.
….this totally didn’t spawn from Logan laughing and grinning when Wade’s blood splashed in his mouth or anything 👉👈
Between his wandering hands and worshipping touch, there's a growing worry eating at you alive, one that he's able to sense far too well. Almost as soon as it begins, you stop, and it takes one worried look at you before Logan's grilling you for answers.
Something's different this time—you're hiding something. And he's not going to continue until you tell him. "What's on your mind doll?" He says. "Nothing," you lie. "Just don't feel up for it is all." "Okay, there's nothing wrong with that," his hands smooth over your ruffled shirt, his attempt at making you feel a bit more comfortable. "But that's not what I asked." It's times like this where you hate how perceptive he is, how he's so quick to know your tells. He stares you down until you finally relent with a sigh, looking away from him. "I'm on my period." "So?" A pause. "Logan, I'm on my period." "Yeah, you said that already." He answers annoyed. "Your point being?" "Logan, I get that you're a gentleman and I love you for it, but it's okay if you don't want to continue—" "Okay, wait, lemme get this straight," He interrupts you with a shake of his head. "You don't wanna keep going because you're on your period and you think I care?" There's a palpable silence between the both of you, laced with confusion. "Well, don't you?" You don't know how you expected him to react, but laughing wasn't on your list. A real, chest-bursting laugh reaching your ears, immediately followed by his arms around your torso. "Doll, I couldn't give two shits about what time of the month it is, the last thing I'm afraid of is a little blood." His voice is like honey in your ear, a reassurance that sets your mind at ease and causes your body to relax in his hold. You can tell he meant every word, and if you needed any further evidence, you can feel exhibit B currently prodding against your thigh. "Now, since we've cleared that up—lie back and lemme handle the rest."
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kokokoula · 20 hours ago
Text
drunk confessions
a/n: wow i haven't posted in a long while hahaha thanks for staying :) i'm so burnt out from exams please tolerate me🥲 again, not beta read, my beta reader is busy as heck because of a hellish sch system. also, i wrote all of this at 3am, i hope it's still readable TT (this is obvi in timeskip no underage drinking guys)
---
"i think i love you."
you rest your head on your palm, gazing at him with soft eyes and warm cheeks. you reek of alcohol; tsukishima doesn't seem to care.
the two of you sit by the bar at the far end, where the light jazz music gets faint. he's thinking clearly, only a bit red from a drink or two— or is it something else?— while you're flat out drunk. his eyes widen slightly at your confession, and pauses.
"don't say things you don't mean." tsukishima eventually brushes you off, pushing his glasses further up. despite that, his heart beats a little faster, and he hates it.
you splay out your arms across the countertop, burying your face in them. he takes the last swig of his drink. there is the distant sound of glasses clinking and a cheer.
"tsukki?" his name is a bit slurred as you turn to him again. your hair is in a tangled mess, locks of it falling over your eyes. he resists the urge to tuck them away and behind your ear.
tsukishima nudges your foot: a sign to continue.
"y'know, when i first met you, i thought you were an arrogant, self-centred bastard. i hated you." you state, fiddling with your empty shot glass. wow, and just when he thought things were getting intimate.
"where exactly are you going with this?" he frowns at you.
"we used to bicker about almost everything at school. i can't count how many times yamaguchi had to step in." you giggle, hiccuping at the end. you didn't seem to have heard him but he doesn't mind. he shakes his head, a small smile appearing on his face; you look so cute being lost in your own world.
"remember it was our last class, and it happened to rain that day? you laughed at me because i didn't bring an umbrella." yes, he remembers. tadashi was sick that day, and the both of you ended up getting lectured many times by teachers for your incessant arguments. he almost laughs at the thought of it.
"i didn't expect to find your umbrella in my shoe locker after you left, though. you said you had an extra when i confronted you about it but yamaguchi already told me you had returned home drenched." tsukishima's face starts to burn. shit, being reminded of how down bad he was—and still is— is embarrassing. he wishes he was much cooler about it.
"i couldn't accept that you were capable of being nice, let alone to me..." it's even more so because of you.
"...till i realised you're nothing like what i thought you were. you admit your own faults, are too hard on yourself, and incredibly encouraging of your friends in your own complicated way. hell, even to hinata and kageyama!" you're sitting upright now, your hands making exaggerated movements as you talk. you take a deep breath in.
"it's your fault that i can't stop thinking about you, and that i get so sickeningly happy when i see you. so shuddup, i do mean it when i said i think, no wait, i know i love you." you rebuke him, pointing your finger at him like an angry child.
you have done it. you've lit his face on fire with your words. he can't tear his eyes away from your piercing gaze.
tsukishima isn't the most affectionate person, but maybe it's the late hour, or the influence of the alcohol, because he reaches over to caress the back of your head and bring you closer to him. his lips softly presses against your forehead, lingering there for a few seconds before pulling away. he sees your eyes sparkle.
since kei believes actions speak louder than words, he hopes you know that this, everything, means something.
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quirkwall · 2 days ago
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May I add: I find it weird how Taash's gender narrative is about not being a man or a woman, but then this happens. The game shows us they don't need to pick a side, they are Taash regardless... Which could have had a cultural exploration, making it feel more cohesive with the world, mixing the Qunari ideas of gender in to help expand that side of not only their heritage, but Thedas as well.
Yet, this character all about being in the middle... Has you encouraging them to pick one side over the other. I cannot tell Taash to chose being a woman or a man, so why the fuck would I have Taash picking between Rivaini or Qunari? My Rook told them Rivaini, since I had up until that point roleplayed a Rook who did not like their mother much, but... My Rook, an elven Shadow Dragon, who I imagine as having been a slave liberated by the Dragons prior to joining them, who lives as both an elf and a Tevinter person (Tevinter, the place that is heavily prejudiced towards his species) while accepting being both, would not have them pick a side. He didn't pick one, and he had all the reasons to.
Neither would I, for the matter. Here in Portugal we have a lot of black people who immigrate from Africa in search of a better life or education (most coming from the previous Portuguese colonies). Many of them get a citizenship, or they children get one. It is considered racist and pretty conservative to say these individuals who literally come from another continent aren't Portuguese just because of their race and heritage, for they live in Portugal now and are part of our culture, even if they still carry their own. They pay taxes, participate in our festivals, eat our food, yet keep their own culture alive and in many ways share it with us. Playing that section, to me, felt like I was perpetuating these racist ideals that unfortunately are very much alive in my country. It was the first moment in this game I truly felt whiplash.
None of this to say I hate the game. I'm having a lot of fun with it. When these topics written in a poor manner are not being presented on screen, I also really enjoy Taash - they're a bit stoic and assertive but in a charming way, where they actually care about their companions and aren't just a detached cold stereotype. But the non-binary plotline of them not picking a side immediately followed by the game forcing them to pick a cultural side? Hello? Were there two writers butting heads on the writers' room?
Would you care to elaborate on how Taash's gender was handled? I don't have a way of playing the game myself, and also don't really understand your settler comment. (This is genuine, I want to understand it, but do not think I could if I just looked up the game content myself.)
I mean Weekes very clearly wrote Taash through their lens as a settler (a white person living on stolen land), and did so with ZERO consideration for the cultural aspects of Taash's story.
Like, Rook literally is forced to choose "Encourage Taash to pursue their Rivaini culture" or "Encourage Taash to pursue their Qunari heritage" in one scene for example. And the dialogue is this: "Did your mother want you to be a Qunari who happened to live in Rivain, or a Rivaini person who happened to be Qunari?" And that is such a western colonial mindset! Taash doesn't have to choose shit, Taash can have both!
But yay, Taash is non-binary, so we're supposed to pretend their gender means more than their culture, because of course the two are always separate, right? //sarcasm
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mind-intheclouds342 · 3 days ago
Text
I found her first - Jimmys pov
This chapter contains mature and dark content.
This is the little bonus (from Do it for them) chapter about why Jimmy is so mad about the cute couple we love.
Jimmy: "Do I really have to use that crap?"
He complained while running his hand over his member to make it hard, so he could put on the condom.
"I already told you, sweetheart, no party without a hat~ don't feel left out, I do this with everyone who comes through here~"
The only thing separating them was that wall, and the only thing connecting them was that hole through which the man slid his member, immediately letting out a moan upon feeling lips on it.
That was one of his favorite places, his favorite mouth, he spent his money there every time those lovely lips were on the other side.
He immersed himself in the pleasure and compliments he could hear from the other side, he adored every second of it.
"Oh~! Did you finish, darling? You've lasted longer than last time~ what a good boy!"
Jimmy: "Shut up... get ready for your payment"
He heard the giggle from the other side and slid the bill through the slot, seeing the edge of a bra and placing it right there.
Jimmy: "You say that you charge others first before providing your service... Why do you let me do it later?"
"Because you are my favorite customer~ and I trust you!"
Those words melted him, he always asked the same thing, to receive the same answer, it made his ego grow bigger.
He already noticed that her favorite mouth was in different places, not just doing these jobs.
When he knew he could find her in the alleys looking for something good to smoke and to forget about the world, he knew how to find her.
"20 dollars? Let's go... That's excessive for this amount..."
She complained but was desperate to get the only thing that relaxed her.
Jimmy: "Can you do something for me to get it for just 10?"
That's how he managed to see her face and her lips back on his member, but there he didn't receive any kind of praise, just a quick suck, but it was worth it to see her face, how her eyes rolled back when he pushed her head, making her choke on him, he loved being able to do that.
But it drove him crazy that she wouldn't even look at him, always avoiding any kind of eye contact.
To then end up smoking together by the shores of the lake at that place.
Jimmy: "You could get it for free if you would just let me..."
"No"
She said curtly, looking at the lake and scratching his leg repeatedly, which she couldn't stop moving.
Jimmy: "I'm just saying... I could give you a place to sleep, you know."
"Go to hell"
Jimmy: "You too"
He loved her company.
It was still very much present the day he had been cornered by a group of teenagers who tried to steal the merchandise he had to sell in that area.
They were armed with sticks and a knife, being five against just one, the man was at a disadvantage.
Until she arrived, without any remorse, she hit one on the head with a glass bottle, breaking it.
She grabbed him by the neck and pointed the broken bottle at his face.
"Leave him alone, or I'll kill your friend right here."
No matter how bad they wanted to appear, they couldn't leave their friend behind, so they dropped their weapons and left.
"That should at least give me a week of something good without any payment, right?"
She commented, taking her hand to help her up.
Jimmy: "Bitch, you only helped me for that"
"Of course, you bastard, do you think I care about you?"
But the smile with which she said it, said the exact opposite for him.
For him, she was his companion, a woman he could turn to at any moment, as long as he gave her something in return.
That's why when he saw her by his side... Immediately, his whole world crumbled.
Curly: "Jimmy! Let me introduce you to (Y/n)"
It was the first time he heard her name.
He watched her as she hid behind her friend, avoiding his gaze, fully aware of the things she had done with him, as if she wanted to pretend they had never happened.
Why are you with him?
Why do you hold onto him like that?
Are you really going to leave me?
They were questions that always crossed his mind, furious at having to witness how something that was his, something he had achieved on his own, was snatched away by someone else.
From that moment on, he never stopped insulting her, only saying unpleasant things about her to his friend, hoping that one day he would leave her and she would be his again.
But that never happened.
Jimmy: "Goddammit Curly, why don't you answer?"
He complained by leaving messages for his friend, with whom he was supposed to meet that day. He was going to his house and knocked on the door loudly to get his attention.
After several minutes, the man opened the door, embarrassed, wearing only his pants.
Curly: "Jimmy! We were supposed to meet today, weren't we? I'm sorry, I fell asleep! I'll get ready right away and let's go!"
He immediately knew it was a lie when he saw her hiding behind a wall, spying, with a blanket covering her body.
I also want to see it.
I also want to have it.
Why did you give it to him when I've kindly asked you so many times?
Jimmy: "Get ready quickly! You're wasting my time..."
His friend laughed and nodded, apologizing again for the problem.
Even their hopes of reclaiming what was theirs did not fade.
Even after they have gotten married.
He was going to get what he wanted, even if he had to snatch it from his friend's hands.
After all, he found her first.
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nakylvr · 17 hours ago
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hiiii can I request gp!sophia x fem!reader with angst prompt 1 + smut prompt 10 where basically reader just had a huge fight with her ex bf and went to sophia bc she’s her best friend (that she’s also lowkey really attracted to) and sophia tries to cheer reader up (by fucking her) but she’s really sweet and fluffy during it🫶🏼
(sorry if this doesn’t make any sense but I hope you get what I mean😭english is not my first language💜)
bestie this is so good...you made perfect sense i understood completely 🫶 thank you so much for requesting!
— ALL I WANTED ⚓️
sophia laforteza (katseye) x fem!reader
summary: angst prompt 1("i didn't know where else to go") + smut prompt 10("don't worry, i'll take care of you") from my 100 follower event OR you have a big fight with your boyfriend and break up. going to your best friend sophia, things take a turn by how she "cheers you up"
warnings/tags: language, nsfw content, g!p!sophia, soft dom!sophia, sub!reader, soft sex, lots of praise, unprotected sex, cumming inside
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you stood in front of the door of your best friend's apartment. your arms were folded in on yourself, practically hugging yourself as you waited for the door to open. it was cold outside, feeling the chill breeze as you wore merely a thin sweater and leggings. you glance away for a split second, and suddenly the door opens revealing sophia, whose expression quickly goes from happy to concerned at the sight of you.
"oh my god, are you okay?" she immediately questions. "here, come inside. you're probably freezing." she grabs your arm and pulls you inside, closing the door behind you.
"sorry for showing up like this," you apologize quietly as you look down at the ground. "i didn't know where else to go," your voice cracks as you say this.
sophia can instantly tell something is wrong. the first thing being you apologizing when she would never be upset with you for randomly showing up in the middle of the night. second being the way your eyes won't meet hers. and third, the crack in your voice.
"hey, hey," she says softly, placing her hands on your shoulders. "what's wrong? what happened?" her tone is so caring and genuine like she always is with you. she hates seeing you upset to the point of near crying, but she doesn't know how to help if she doesn't know what's wrong.
"it-it's just my boyfriend and i got in a huge fight...he broke up with me and basically kicked me out so...i came here," your voice is quiet as you speak, still not being able to meet her eyes.
sophia's eyes go wide for a second at your answer. but when you finally look at her, eyes filled with tears, her breath hitches in her throat. she can't lie and say she doesn't think this is a blessing in disguise given the fact she's been pining for you for years now, but couldn't do anything with that stupid boyfriend of yours around, cause she does think it. she knows you feel the same, at least she thinks it with the lingering stares you've been giving her more recently and the way you've talked to her lately. she tries to think quickly of what's the best option to do right now, too many different thoughts running through her head as she stares back at you. hesitantly, she moves her hands from your shoulders to cup your face in her hands, seeing the way your eyes subtly widen at her action and hoping she isn't fucking this up. "how about i help cheer you up?"
you're frozen in your spot as sophia asks you the question, and you're not sure how to respond. you don't have a complete understanding of what she's meaning, your mind going in a direction you assume would never happen ever no matter how much you wanted. "what do you mean by that?" you respond quietly.
"whatever you want it to mean," sophia answers in the same voice. "i'm here for anything you need or want."
those words are enough reassurance you need to finally say what you've been wanting to say for a while now. "kiss me," you whisper.
sophia tries to fight the smile that creeps on her face at your reply, but fails miserably as she leans in and closes the gap between you and her. she can taste the remainder of your lipgloss on your lips that you applied earlier in the day, sighing softly against your lips. your arms wrap around her neck, pulling her closer to you before parting from the kiss. your face is inches away from hers, and your fingers play with her hair as you stare into her eyes.
"you're a really good kisser," you murmur. "how were you planning on cheering me up?" you ask next.
"will you let me show you?" sophia responds. "let me take care of you like you deserve." her hands move to your waist, somehow managing to pull you even closer.
"please," you say in a quiet voice.
that's all sophia needs to hear before she's pulling you to her bedroom, kissing you continuously and almost tripping when she hits the bed. she swiftly picks you up and lays you down on the bed, crawling above you and peering down at you. her hands find the hem of your swearer and she looks at you, silently asking for your permission to remove it. you nod your head, and she slowly pulls it up over your head, leaving you in your bra and leggings.
"you're so beautiful," sophia murmurs, her hands drifting up and down your torso. they stop at the waistband of your leggings, her fingers hooking around it and lightly tugging them down your legs and off along with your panties. "you have no idea how much i've wanted this," she says, her eyes wandering over your body, her cock throbbing in her boxers at the sight of you in front of her. she quickly discards her shirt and shorts, leaving her in her boxers that had a wet spot from the precum leaking from her tip. she brings a hand between your legs, fingers dragging along your folds before slowly slipping two into your wet heat.
"s-sophia," you whimper out when she slowly thrusts her fingers in and out of you.
your walls suck her fingers in greedily, making her only want you more as she pulls her fingers out after a few seconds, needing to feel you around her cock. she strips off her boxers, her cock springing out, the head red and dripping beads of precum. supporting herself up with one of her arms near your head, the other holds the base of her length, sliding up and down your dripping pussy, collecting your slick on her tip. "don't worry, i'll take care of you," she tells you softly. "are you ready?"
you nod your head, whimpering at the feeling of her rubbing against you. "yes- please i need you so bad," your voice comes out whinier than you wanted, but you can't find it in you to care seeing the way sophia's eyes darken at your words.
slowly, she pushes inside of you, watching the way your eyes roll back at the size of her filling you up. sophia curses under her breath at your walls squeezing around her tightly, stopping once she was fully in you. "you tell me when you want me to move, okay?" she presses a quick kiss on your lips.
your jaw falls open as you feel her stretching you out, a quiet whimper coming from you when she stops. you nod again at her words, taking a few shallow breaths before speaking. "y-you can move now."
inch by inch, sophia pulls out before sliding back in, the wetness of your pussy making it oh so easy for her to build a slow pace. "you're so pretty," she says, leaning down and kissing you. "god, you're so tight," she hisses against your lips.
quiet moans fall from your lips as she sets a slow pace, almost embarrassed of getting too loud, whimpering at her words as she kisses you. your arms hook around her neck, pulling her closer. parting from the kiss, you breathe heavily as you stare up at her, biting down on your lower lip to try and keep quiet.
sophia's eyes don't leave yours once, keeping eye contact while maintaining her slow pace. she didn't want to get rough with you in your current state, she was happy enough for this to be happening in general. plus, she seriously doubted your dumbass boyfriend gave a fuck about whether you actually came or not. so she was going to make sure you would. "don't be shy, princess," she pushes some of your hair out of your face. "let me hear you, my love. i wanna hear the pretty noises you make."
your face heats up at the realization that she wants to hear you, finally letting go of your lip from your teeth and freely moaning like she wanted. "sh-shit sophia," you whine her name. you're surprised at how slow and gentle the girl above you is being, as if she was worried she would hurt you when you know she would never even think of hurting you once. but, it was nice. she was right, she was making you feel the way you deserved.
hearing her name coming from you in that whiny tone has sophia's cock twitching in you, letting out quiet grunts with her gaze still on you. "how does it feel, baby?" she asks you, genuine. she needs to know she's making you feel good, she needs to hear you say it. she doesn't know how she's keeping up this slow, almost agonizing pace, but seeing your reactions each time she slowly pushes back in is enough for her to keep at it. "tell me how it feels."
"g-good," you manage out through moans. "it fe-feels so g-good- fuck- you're making m-me feel so good," you emphasize on 'you're' so that she knows that she's the only one on your mind. it was true, you couldn't even think about anything else except for the way she feels like this. you didn't even remember why you came here, and you didn't care, either.
"fuck," sophia breathes out at your response. she can tell you've long forgotten why you originally came to her place, and that mixed with you emphasizing that she's the one making you feel this good has her swelling with pride. "you're so beautiful like this. i love you so so much," she mumbles, not realizing the way her words could sound to you.
you can barely process her words, only hearing the 'i love you', and that alone has you clenching tightly around her cock, somehow getting even wetter than you already were. "i lo-love you too- o-oh my god!" your eyes roll back when you feel her tip nudge against your g-spot. "fu-fuck!" you feel tears welling in your eyes as you feel yourself getting closer to cumming.
seeing the tears in your eyes has sophia cooing at you, cupping your cheek with one of her hands and wiping the stray tear that falls. "shh, you're close, yeah?" she says quietly. she slowly speeds up her thrusts just a little bit, pushing so deep into you that she can practically see the outline of her cock bulging from your stomach making her twitch again. "i'm close too- shit!- tel-tell me where you want me," her words are starting to get interrupted by little whimpers escaping her throat as she feels herself get closer.
you nod your head quickly at her question, murmuring out, "ye-yes," through your noises that are getting louder and whinier. her next words have your head spinning to come up with a response. staring up into her eyes as she stares down at you, you know the answer you're going to give. "i-in me, please, i'm o-on the pill, please cum in me, please," you're begging for her in a way that would be embarrassing to you in any other moment, but you can't find it in you to care.
sophia's eyes go wide when you tell her what you want, but she isn't going to deny your requests in any shape or form. "don't worry, my love," she tells you before kissing you, moaning into the kiss and speeding up just a little bit more.
whining her name as she kisses you, you pull her down impossibly closer to you, your bodies practically pressed against each other. your legs wrap around her hips, bringing her even closer to you. pulling out of the kiss, you rest your forehead against hers, looking deeply into her eyes as short breaths and moans of her name leave your mouth. "f-fuck, sophia 'm so close,"
"go on," she pecks your lips quickly. "cum for me, my pretty girl. so pretty for me like this, god," she groans quietly.
after one final thrust, your eyes roll into the back of your head as you cum so hard you end up seeing white, your hands clawing at her back. not even a minute later, sophia is putting her face in your neck and letting out a long drawn-out whine as spurts of her cum fill you up to the brim. she stays there for a moment or two, breathing heavily into your neck before slowly pulling out of you. a whimper falls from your lips at the feeling, your arms still hooked around her neck and holding her close to you.
"do you...really love me in this way?" you whisper quietly.
sophia pulls her face from your neck at your hesitant question, looking down at you and nodding her head. "of course. i just didn't want to do anything while you were with him," she answers truthfully.
you nod slowly, clearly hesitating about asking the next question you were thinking of. "do you want...to be with me?"
there's a look in sophia's eyes that you can't figure out, as if she's struggling with a response. "yes," she says in a quiet voice.
"then i'm yours," you smile at her, moving your hands to cup her cheeks. "i love you."
sophia's face instantly lights up when you speak, a wide smile tugging on her lips. "i love you too, so much."
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mullermilkshake · 19 hours ago
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Satoru gets back late
MINORS DNI - Tags: Yakuza AU, Fluff
Satoru huffed the long day away.
The traffic away from Ryomen headquarters was stifling, a sea of red car lights in tandem with each other as though the world just knew that Satoru was trying to come to see you.
He trudged out of the elevator and made his way down the hall to your front door. It wasn't unusual for Satoru to let himself in seeming as he had his own key.
“I’m sorry I’m late, Doll," he opened the door looking down at his feet just as low as he felt. "I got called into an emergency meeting that I couldn’t get out of. My boss is an asshole.”
You said nothing, he noticed you standing right there in the hallway by the living area with a look on your face.
“What?”
A raised brow should have told Satoru everything he needed to know, but he was an idiot right now.
"What's wrong?"
Taking three steps towards him, your eyes darted around at his neck. “Have you been fighting again?”
“Huh?" holy shit how did you find that out with one glance? "No… No course not, baby.”
The glare you gave him was one that screamed 'don't take me for an idiot, Satoru Gojo.'
“There’s blood on your collar.”
Shit.
"Uh..." quick fucking think of something.
The thing was, you knew Satoru's position in the Yakuza, you just didn't approve of it. And yes, you got into a committed relationship with him knowing this, but that didn't stop you from voicing your concerns every now and then.
"Be honest with me, Satoru. How did that blood get there, because I know it wasn't a cut from shaving."
"Shit. I can't lie to you," Satoru slumped and leant against the closed front door, the guilt of even trying to hide anything sank like concrete.
"I can't stop you from doing what you're doing, but I care about your well-being. This fighting isn't healthy. What if-" you stopped yourself and bite down on your lower lip.
"I'm not gonna get injured if that's what you're thinkin' about, Doll."
"You don't know that. You just don't," shaking your head solidified that fact.
Satoru didn't know, however he adopted the whole live fast die young gig long before he ever met you, way before he even joined the Yakuza. It was just how Satoru operated.
Still, your large welling eyes stopped Satoru right where he was. "I'm sorry."
What else could he say right now that wasn't going to make you cry further? Nothing really, so he came over and pulled you close to him.
Maybe he could tone it down a bit, try this stupid method Sukuna suggested at the meeting and gather intel before smashing skulls. It just wasn't as fun though, was it?
However Captain Yaga would be back soon and then Satoru really would have to behave.
"How can I make it up to you?"
Looking up at him, he could see how red your eyes actually were. "It's not about making up, Satoru. It's promising to take care of yourself."
He nodded without hesitation. "Alright, I promise."
In honesty, you were the perfect person to balance out his pointed edges. And despite how far he wanted to go with people sometimes, most of the time it was only really you he wanted to impress and keep happy.
Everyone else could suck it.
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dufferpuffer · 3 days ago
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~crawls out of my mud hole like a bunyip~ Delicious… food… Albus meta...
This is a cool comparison to make - because so much is the same, as OP said. + Albus is trying to keep them on his side. + Harry and Severus have both lost someone dear to them and are going through emotional breakdowns. + They both blame themselves for their losses and both wish for non-existence. + Albus stays carefully controlled while they rage and mourn. + He references 'The Best Of' Severus and Harrys 'Greatest Strength' as being the fact they care deeply.
But I think, with all those similarities... We can distinctly see how these two situations differ.
(Small thing: I don't think Albus suspected Tom was immortal until at LEAST scar-baby with no Voldy-coprse, so it hadn't been kept from Severus. But whatever.)
Make no mistake: Albus is a COLD man. Just about frozen over. + Partially intentional - a lifetime of keeping people away, not trusting anyone with his vulnerabilities. + Partially just… he's always been like that. An outcast, out of step with the rest of the world.
In that section with Severus: His high heel boot is pressing down on Snape's neck. + He explains the situation in short, harsh sentences. + He cuts Snape off. + Offers one way forward with absolutely no comfort, no time to breathe, no understanding or sympathy. + He meets his anguish with harsh, mocking cruelty. + The pace is fast, bouncing between them, barely any descriptive words for Albus' speech other than 'coldly' and 'sighed'.
The only softness, the only 'warmth', is in him saying: “My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?” Even that is manipulative: Agreeing to be obedient is 'the best' of him. It's a joke, really, to call him lifting his boot from choking Severus 'warmth'...
Adding this from a little before - 'coz it's DELICIOUSLY savage:
“I thought… you were going… to keep her… safe…” “She and James put their faith in the wrong person,” said Dumbledore. “Rather like you, Severus. Weren’t you hoping that Lord Voldemort would spare her?” Snape’s breathing was shallow.
...Severus dares to suggest ANY of this guilt sits with Albus and gets his head bitten off for it. Albus shirks responsibility off his own shoulders, slides it onto Severus' by comparing him directly to the betrayer - and then slaps him in the face for being such a moron, hoping Voldemort of all people would do as he asked. Whoever betrayed Lily (Sirius) is nothing compared to him and his foolish folly.
It is VICIOUS how Albus stomps guilt down his throat.
… ... ...
For Harry's section, He is bellowing in anguish too. (More violently but that's not important.) Albus has locked him in his office. He is railroading Harry, giving him one way forward: listen to what he has to say. Be obedient.
But the way he goes about this is so utterly different: (I'm including things omitted from the above point for its brevity - same chapter.)
‘I DON’T CARE!’ Harry yelled at them, snatching up a lunascope and throwing it into the fireplace. ‘I’VE HAD ENOUGH, I’VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON’T CARE ANY MORE -‘ He seized the table on which the silver instrument had stood and threw that, too. It broke apart on the floor and the legs rolled in different directions. ‘You do care,’ said Dumbledore. He had not flinched or made a single move to stop Harry demolishing his office. His expression was calm, almost detached. ‘You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it.’ ‘I - DON’T!’ Harry screamed, so loudly that he felt his throat might tear, and for a second he wanted to rush at Dumbledore and break him, too; shatter that calm old face, shake him, hurt him, make him feel some tiny part of the horror inside himself. ‘Oh, yes, you do,’ said Dumbledore, still more calmly. ‘You have now lost your mother, your father, and the closest thing to a parent you have ever known. Of course you care.’ ‘YOU DON’T KNOW HOW I FEEL!’ Harry roared. ‘YOU- STANDING THERE- YOU-‘ But words were no longer enough, smashing things was no more help; he wanted to run, he wanted to keep running and never look back, he wanted to be somewhere he could not see the clear blue eyes staring at him, that hatefully calm old face. He ran to the door, seized the doorknob again and wrenched at it. But the door would not open. Harry turned back to Dumbledore. ‘Let me out,’ he said. He was shaking from head to foot. ‘No,’ said Dumbledore simply. For a few seconds they stared at each other. ‘Let me out,’ Harry said again. ‘No,’ Dumbledore repeated. ‘If you don’t - if you keep me in here - if you don’t let me -‘ ‘By all means continue destroying my possessions,’ said Dumbledore serenely. ‘I daresay I have too many.’ He walked around his desk and sat down behind it, watching Harry. ‘Let me out,’ Harry said yet again, in a voice that was cold and almost as calm as Dumbledore’s. ‘Not until I have had my say,’ said Dumbledore.
Albus is unflinching, detached. Harry hates how calm he is, he wants to break how calm he is, make him openly feel something for once. Albus is infuriatingly serene, saying things simply, sitting down… encouraging Harry's outburst of emotion. It is Harry that speaks coldly this time - forcing his anguish to be calm and savage rather than hot and roaring.
That is already hugely different from when he spoke to Severus - where he cut him off and mocked him. 'Is this remorse? What use is that to anyone?'
Rather than telling Harry his pain is useless he sympathizes. Deeply. With intricate detail: He knows how it feels to lose your father, mother and close family: It is 'as if you will bleed to death with the pain'. He could have brought up his own experiences up - to try and prove that he does know, that he and Harry are the same in this. But he doesn't. What use would his remorse be? To try and gain sympathy, a defense of himself, at this moment of horror would be grotesquely selfish. He isn't here to defend himself.
‘Do you - do you think I want to - do you think I give a - I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU’VE GOT TO SAY!’ Harry roared. ‘I don’t want to hear anything you’ve got to say!’ ‘You will,’ said Dumbledore steadily. ‘Because you are not nearly as angry with me as you ought to be. If you are to attack me, as I know you are close to doing, I would like to have thoroughly earned it.’ ‘What are you talking -?’ ‘It is my fault that Sirius died,’ said Dumbledore clearly. ‘Or should I say, almost entirely my fault - I will not be so arrogant as to claim responsibility for the whole. Sirius was a brave, clever and energetic man, and such men are not usually content to sit at home in hiding while they believe others to be in danger. Nevertheless, you should never have believed for an instant that there was any necessity for you to go to the Department of Mysteries tonight. If I had been open with you, Harry, as I should have been, you would have known a long time ago that Voldemort might try and lure you to the Department of Mysteries, and you would never have been tricked into going there tonight. And Sirius would not have had to come after you. That blame lies with me, and with me alone.’ Harry was still standing with his hand on the doorknob but was unaware of it. He was gazing at Dumbledore, hardly breathing, listening yet barely understanding what he was hearing. ‘Please sit down,’ said Dumbledore. It was not an order, it was a request.
With Severus - Albus took any guilt off his own shoulders and saddled Severus with it. Used it to pressure him. He does the EXACT opposite here. Everything is put on his own shoulders and the little bit that isn't he frames as a compliment to Sirius' character - not a failing.
+ He guilt-tripped and demanded Severus pay his debt to Lily. He gave him no choice. Severus' obedience would be his best quality. + He requests Harry to sit down and listen while he gives him the truth. Explains his own guilt. Not for sympathy, but because Harry is owed the truth. 'If I had been open with you, Harry, as I should have been…'
Albus is not an open man. he is secretive, distant, cold. But he isn't doing that here. For pages and pages he answers Harry's questions in such detail... I doubt he has told anyone else such a complete account. He likes to keep the whole picture to himself having been bitten by betrayals before… But he tells Harry so much. He answers his yelled, spat and snarled questions calmly - never once 'coldly'.
…And it gets to him. It cracks his calm, unflinching persona. A man who does things 'for the greater good', keeping himself detached from wild emotions to stand steady, act with cold logic:
Dumbledore closed his eyes and buried his face in his long-fingered hands. Harry watched him, but this uncharacteristic sign of exhaustion, or sadness, or whatever it was from Dumbledore, did not soften him. On the contrary, he felt even angrier that Dumbledore was showing signs of weakness. He had no business being weak when Harry wanted to rage and storm at him. Dumbledore lowered his hands and surveyed Harry through his half-moon glasses. ‘It is time,’ he said, ‘for me to tell you what I should have told you five years ago, Harry. Please sit down. I am going to tell you everything. I ask only a little patience. You will have your chance to rage at me - to do whatever you like - when I have finished. I will not stop you.’ [...] ‘Yet there was a flaw in this wonderful plan of mine,’ said Dumbledore. ‘An obvious flaw that I knew, even then, might be the undoing of it all. And yet, knowing how important it was that my plan should succeed, I told myself that I would not permit this flaw to ruin it. I alone could prevent this, so I alone must be strong. And here was my first test, as you lay in the hospital wing, weak from your struggle with Voldemort.’ […] ‘Do you see, Harry? Do you see the flaw in my brilliant plan now? I had fallen into the trap I had foreseen, that I had told myself I could avoid, that I must avoid.’ ‘I don’t -‘ ‘I cared about you too much,’ said Dumbledore simply. ‘I cared more for your happiness than your knowing the truth, more for your peace of mind than my plan, more for your life than the lives that might be lost if the plan failed. In other words, I acted exactly as Voldemort expects we fools who love to act. […] Harry looked up at him and saw a tear trickling down Dumbledore’s face into his long silver beard.
...It is all so out of character for Albus to speak like this. To spend pages not just explaining events and other peoples perspectives - but his own personal thought processes, his own emotions, his own failings and his own plans.
Maybe it's all a manipulative act. He's leaking crocodile tears with big puppy eyes to win Harry's favor, giving him what he wants - knowledge and support - to lure him back to obedience... But that is the exact opposite to how we normally see him manipulate people.
+ Twinkling eyes and small smiles, light silly humor + Mixing making himself seem impressive with self-effacing. + Staying calm and unaffected, as if lightly humored. + Gently pointing people in the direction he wants them to think rather than giving answers outright, risking leaking how he feels and what he knows. (as even seen in the very first chapter of the first book). + A judging use of "So you would even feel X…?", bringing up the concept of 'X' as if he may disagree - but leaving himself free to swing positive or negative, or stay vague. When tensions get higher: + His calm freezing over, becoming cold. + Speech snappy and harsh, insulting and belittling. + Dominating demands, controlling the conversation. + Never revealing more information than is strictly necessary. + Withholding information, even when cruel to do so. + Acting innocent while twisting events to favor him.
He isn't doing ANY of that in this chapter with Harry. And when he does almost, just a little, like the multiple probings of 'do you see now where my plan failed…?' - trying to avoid having to rip himself open and admit his feelings… he does so anyway. Not vague, not tip-toeing: he bites the bullet. He stays calm, yes - but is not unaffected. He cries. He shows weakness Harry has never seen before.
It's not just a one-and-done moment either - from this point on he includes Harry in so much of HBP. He takes him from the Dursleys mere days into Summer (after Harry tells him off here for keeping him 'trapped' like Sirius) and gets his aid in things he tells nobody else about (after saying here how he should have been including him more, like Harry wanted, rather than pushing him away for 'his own safety' when he will be in danger no matter what.) Albus heeds Harry's pain and works to do better. He changes.
He is not as cold and manipulative here as he was to Snape.
Dumbledore's Manipulations: Part 6(?)
I just reread the scene in Deathly Hallows of Dumbledore and Snape on Snape's memories after Lily died, and that entire scene reminded me of the scene at the end of book 5. After Sirius died and Harry was having his breakdown.
Snape breaking down in front of Dumbledore after Lily dies:
“Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and color of Lily Evans’s eyes, I am sure?” “DON’T!” bellowed Snape. “Gone. . . dead. . . ” “Is this remorse, Severus?” “I wish. . . I wish I were dead. . . ” “And what use would that be to anyone?” said Dumbledore coldly. “If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear.” Snape seemed to peer through a haze of pain, and Dumbledore’s words appeared to take a long time to reach him. “What—what do you mean?” “You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily’s son.” “He does not need protection. The Dark Lord has gone—” “The Dark Lord will return, and Harry Potter will be in terrible danger when he does.” There was a long pause, and slowly Snape regained control of himself, mastered his own breathing. At last, he said, “Very well. Very well. But never—never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear. . . especially Potter’s son. . . I want your word!” “My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?” Dumbledore sighed, looking down into Snape’s ferocious, anguished face. “If you insist. . . ”
(DH, 573)
Harry breaking down in front of Dumbledore after Sirius dies:
“There is no shame in what you are feeling, Harry,” said Dumbledore’s voice. “On the contrary . . . the fact that you can feel pain like this is your greatest strength.” Harry felt the white-hot anger lick his insides, blazing in the terrible emptiness, filling him with the desire to hurt Dumbledore for his calmness and his empty words. “My greatest strength, is it?” said Harry, his voice shaking as he stared out at the Quidditch stadium, no longer seeing it. “You haven’t got a clue. . . . You don’t know . . .” “What don’t I know?” asked Dumbledore calmly. It was too much. Harry turned around, shaking with rage. “I don’t want to talk about how I feel, all right?” “Harry, suffering like this proves you are still a man! This pain is part of being human —” “THEN — I — DON’T — WANT — TO — BE — HUMAN!” [...] “Let me out,” Harry said yet again, in a voice that was cold and almost as calm as Dumbledore’s. “Not until I have had my say,” said Dumbledore. [...] “It meant,” said Dumbledore, “that the person who has the only chance of conquering Lord Voldemort for good was born at the end of July, nearly sixteen years ago. This boy would be born to parents who had already defied Voldemort three times.” Harry felt as though something was closing in upon him. His breathing seemed difficult again. “It means — me?” [...] “I am afraid,” said Dumbledore slowly, looking as though every word cost him a great effort, “that there is no doubt that it is you.”
(OotP, 823)
I just, found these two scenes awfully similar in tone when reading the one in Deathly Hallows last night.
In both Snape/Harry are in emotional turmoil after the most important person to them dies. Both feel like dying (Snape: "I wish I were dead", Hary: "then I don't want to be human"). Both shout at Dumbledore when he speaks all too calmly of things they don't want/need to hear at that moment.
And Dumbledore speaks calmly and coldly to both of them, revealing information he hid from them both (to Snape he tells about Voldemort's immortality, to Harry he tells about the Prophecy) before guilting them through their grief into what he needs them to do.
Now, I'm not exactly blaming him, because, from his position, he needs Snape as a spy and he needs Harry to be willing to do anything to kill Voldemort — to take Voldemort as his responsibility. Dumbledore needs these things to happen to have the best chance of completing his plan to defeat Voldemort.
I just, can't help but note how cold it is. How cold and manipulative Dumbledore can be when he feels he needs to be. Even as he explains his care for Harry as a flaw in his plan, he speaks calmly and simply. And he is right caring about Harry is a flaw, because he always planned for Harry to die. He knew since he saw the scar on Harry's forehead:
“I guessed, fifteen years ago,” said Dumbledore, “when I saw the scar upon your forehead, what it might mean. I guessed that it might be the sign of a connection forged between you and Voldemort.”
(OotP, 826)
And even if I think Dumbledore is honest in that he'd rather Harry wouldn't die, I don't think he cares for him as much as he says he does. In the same way, he's very cold towards Snape even years later when he tells him Harry must die. (I don't think Snape and Dumbledore are actually friends)
Idk, I just read the scene in DH with Snape and it really reminded me of the scene with Harry at the end of OotP.
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fellthemarvelous · 1 day ago
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The Mystery of Chopper Base foreshadowed Ezra's exile.
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Ezra's anxieties about Malachor brought him to Zeb. He was headed to a Sith temple with Kanan and Ahsoka, and it was with Zeb that Ezra was able to show his more vulnerable side.
He said it. "I don't know when we'll be back. Or if we'll be back."
And the thing is...the Ezra who came back from Malachor is not the same Ezra.
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The new Ezra that came back was traumatized, angry, defeated, grieving, and he blamed himself for just how sideways their mission to Malachor went. This new Ezra started wielding a green lightsaber and came very close to falling to the dark side if Kanan had not been there to pull him back from the edge.
This Ezra came back jaded and vengeful and guilt-ridden after Maul blinded Kanan, and he and Kanan had been forced to leave Ahsoka behind with Vader while the Sith temple collapsed around them.
This Ezra came back with a Maul shaped shadow doing everything possible to make Ezra his new apprentice.
This Ezra survived against Darth Vader for a second time (because someone else was there to save him).
Ezra was already grieving the death of his parents when Malachor happened. Malachor hurt everyone in his family. He brought Kanan back to Hera physically injured and forever changed, and he wasn't able to bring Ahsoka back to Rex at all.
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But despite the grief that everyone was experiencing, they persevered. Hera continued on with the mission and Rex spent just as much time pulling Ezra back towards the light as Kanan and Sabine did.
Hera and Kanan's final conversation before Malachor ended up becoming a reality. Kanan regained his vision and was able to look at Hera in his final seconds of life.
Ahsoka and Rex's final conversation was the very first scene in the Twilight of the Apprentice, and it was over Space Facetime. Rex was so nervous about Ahsoka going without him and she had to remind him that she was not alone. Rex is used to mourning his brothers. He's done it thousands of time. He's used to seeing his own face die over and over again. Losing Ahsoka would be different though. She wasn't a clone trooper, but she was still a soldier just like him. She was his best friend, his closest ally, someone he trusted with his life more times than he could care to count. They were each other's sword and shield.
Ezra understands these bonds. It's what his bond with Sabine was becoming.
And all of them (with the exception of Kanan because my boy sacrificed his life to save the people he loved, and Ahsoka because we don't even know when she is, let alone where she is at this point) followed Ezra into battle to take Lothal back from the Empire. They freed Lothal from the grip of Darth Sidious, but Ezra didn't get to see it happen. He was somehow surviving a long ass trip through hyperspace with space whales and a very pissed off Grand Admiral Thrawn.
He spends ten years in exile, alone, on another planet in a distant galaxy with a ship full of stranded Imperials nearby and always ready to kill him, but he still manages to find a new family, traveling with them and protecting them, grieving his loss and becoming more attuned to the Force.
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The Ezra that Sabine finds is so much like the Ezra that she first met on Lothal. He doesn't seem to be carrying a heavy burden, but he knows he needs to get back home because Thrawn is a Big Problem, and he's had ten years learning how to outsmart the Imperials and the Nightmothers.
He's returning home with a lightsaber that matches Kanan's and he's about to meet Kanan's son Jacen for the first time.
The empire is toppled now but he and Zeb will have plenty of war stories to trade when they see each other again, especially as the threat of the Empire's return is rising again.
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changingplumbob · 1 day ago
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With the pancakes cooked the pair sat down to breakfast.
Silver: Did you sleep well
Glenn: Yeah I did actually. Is that like an old person thing to ask
Silver: I'm not that old
Glenn: You won't tell me your age so in my brain that translates to old
Silver: *chuckling* I'm trying to be mysterious. So you're really okay from the whole bachelor challenge now? You're not just pretending
Glenn: I thought it wasn't good practice to discuss ex's with someone attractive that you can imagine developing feelings for
Silver: You only imagine? I must be doing something wrong
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Glenn: No! You're not- I mean... your brother was the first time I properly fell in love so it was a big thing to get over but- I don't want you to think I'm pining for him when I'm not so that's why I'm trying not to mention him
Silver: Good. Because I do like you Glenn. I don't really have any flowery prose to say it in but being around you feels...
Glenn: Amazing? Mind blowing? Like you want to both listen to me prattle on and kiss my mouth to make me shut up?
Silver: I was going to say comforting but sure, let's go with those
Glenn looked down at his plate and felt warm inside. He didn't want Silver to leave tomorrow, but he had to remind himself Silver was still here for now. He was attracted to Silver but saying plainly what his feelings were... he had no experience with that. Relationships were still foreign to him after so much of his life was spent keeping people at arms distance.
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Silver: So what do you want to do today then
Stay sitting here talking. Get lost in your eyes. Finally get a glimpse of the abs you claim to have.
Glenn: Well the weathers nice so a run could be good. Then maybe some fishing
Silver: Oh I love fishing! That sounds like a good plan
Glenn: Got any tips you could give me? My fishing skill is still rather low
Silver: I guess you'll just have to wait and see
Glenn: Ah, do you want a proper shower? I need to get changed but I can wait-
Silver: As much as I enjoy your abs I'll let you get changed first. I may have been living outside for decades but I can still be a gentleman
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Glenn got changed quickly and left Silver to do what he needed. Trying not to think about what Silver looked like undressed under hot water he headed back downstairs and got startled seeing a visitor at the door.
Glenn: Ophelia! Why didn't you knock
Ophelia: Oh I saw you letting me in so I knew I didn't need to knock for it to happen
Glenn: Right. Well uh... this isn't really a good time for visitors
Ophelia: *quietly* Because of Silver
Glenn: What? How did you know about him? I put extra shields over the house
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Ophelia: Ah Glenn... I see the future remember?
Glenn: So... you've seen him sticking around? Staying?
Ophelia: Not exactly. Can I come in?
Glenn let her inside and was filled with an undefinable nervousness.
Ophelia: You know I can't tell you exactly what I see
Glenn: *sighs* Because it's like cheating
Ophelia: You remembered! I wish Drusilla would remember, and Carmine, and-
Glenn: Ophelia?
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Ophelia: Hmm? Oh yes, point. Well I've seen enough to know what his name is and that he's here at the moment
Glenn: He told me he's not the best at meeting new people
Ophelia: Oh I don't meet him now, just talk to you. But it's tricky. So I'm telling you this stuff as your friend okay? Not as a fortune
Glenn: Now you're making me nervous
Ophelia: Everyone heals at different speeds from different hurts and running can be a survival method. It doesn't mean someone doesn't care about what they're running from. And just because someone runs doesn't mean they don't want to come back, okay? Sometimes we need to meet people on their terms. Can you get the door for Miranda?
Glenn: *confused* Can I get the door for Miranda?
Ophelia: Yes she'll be here in ten seconds. Nine, eight...
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Glenn got up and sure enough when he got to the door he opened it in time to let Miranda and a box in.
Ophelia: You finished it
Miranda: Considering you saw it finished before I did I think it's odd you need to ask
Ophelia: *shrugs* I am odd
Glenn: Is the box for me
Miranda: Yes
Ophelia: No
Miranda: So you wanted me to make it to give to Glenn but it's not for Glenn
Ophelia: Don't worry, he knows who to give it to
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Glenn opened the given box. Inside was a cellphone.
Glenn: I already have a phone
Ophelia: That's why it's not for you. Miranda say the stuff you're going to say
Miranda: Ah, right. Well I combined the latest technology and a little bit of magic in this baby. Basically it has satellite reception capabilities combined with magic stability. So wherever the person who has the phone is, they'll always have signal and be able to call and text
Glenn: Reception, anywhere?
Miranda: Mmhmm. Whether they're on a glacier, or deep in a cave, or smack bang in the middle of a forest. This phone will get a signal, the person will be reachable, as per Ophelia's request
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Glenn was in shock. He didn't even know if Silver knew what a phone was but... it was so much better than relying on snail mail when he left. Which from this gift it seemed like he would be doing as planned tomorrow. Ophelia got up and pulled him in to a big hug.
Ophelia: Stay strong Glenn
Glenn: Thanks Ophelia
Ophelia: Come on Miranda. Glenn is busy now
Miranda: He's literally just standing in his living room but whatever floats your boat. Later Glenn
Glenn waved them off and steeled himself to go upstairs and talk to Silver.
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