#break off the attack! the shield is still up!

[nocturnebite]

⟡ 𝙒 𝙃 𝙀 𝙉⠀𝙒 𝙀⠀𝙒 𝙀 𝙍 𝙀⠀𝙒 𝙃 𝙊 𝙇 𝙀 {pt 5} 𝙒 𝙃 𝘼 𝙏⠀𝙒 𝙊 𝙉 ’ 𝙏⠀𝙇 𝙀 𝙏⠀𝙂 𝙊 ⟡

⟡ 𝙒 𝙃 𝘼 𝙏⠀𝙒 𝙊 𝙉 ’ 𝙏⠀𝙇 𝙀 𝙏⠀𝙂 𝙊... You wake in a hospital, unsure of who you are or why he’s crying at your bedside. But something in his touch feels familiar. And somewhere in the blur between dreams and reality, a forgotten story waits to be remembered.

⋆˙⟡. tw: memory loss || medical setting || panic attacks || emotional distress || crying || trauma (implied) || needles/sedation || dissociation || identity confusion ⋆˙⟡. pair: crime fighter Jungwon x female! reader ⋆˙⟡. wc: 2.18k

⋆˙⟡. ash's notes: yo.. i swear this is almost done. imma try to wrap it up in the next chapter.. i just don't want each part getting too long that it makes it hard to read T-T thank you for your patience!! ( っ˶´ ˘ `)っ

Because right now, all he can see — all he can feel — is you, unmoving in his arms. And the devastating silence where your heartbeat should be.

Dark. Cold. Alone.

Trapped in what feels like a dream.

You glance around, eyes flicking side to side, trying to make sense of your surroundings. The air is still — heavy. You wince at the sharp, metallic taste on your tongue, like blood and iron.

Hands trembling, you push yourself upright, the ground beneath you cool and unwelcoming. You squint ahead — a figure stands in the distance, half-swallowed by the shadows.

“Hello?” you rasp. Your voice echoes — dry, hoarse, unanswered.

You take a shaky step forward, raising a hand to shield your eyes from the blinding white light spilling down from above. The figure shifts — just slightly — retreating deeper into the dark, though their eyes never leave you.

Another step. Your footfall echoes off what feels like cement.

“Who are you?” Still, no response. Just silence. And a gaze that feels heavy on your skin.

You don’t know why, but you’re drawn to them — like something magnetic pulling you in. The silence presses closer. You pick up your pace, each step more urgent than the last, breaking into a light run.

This time, the figure doesn’t move.

You get closer. Closer.

And then — you see him.

A boy. Your age, maybe. Familiar, somehow.

The light above now spills over both of you, revealing soft brown eyes. Blonde hair. Deep dimples, sharp jawline, lean frame. He looks at you — not with fear, not with anger — but with something else.

Something that feels like recognition.

Your breath catches.

The pull between you is undeniable. Familiar. Like you’ve known him your whole life — or maybe like you’re supposed to.

And suddenly, your heart is racing, blood humming beneath your skin, and you’re not sure if you’re dreaming, dying, or remembering something you never knew you’d lost.

You blink.

The light above flickers. The boy stares back, unblinking, unmoving — and yet, you feel something shift. The edges of the space around you begin to waver. Like water. Like glass about to crack.

You stumble backward.

The world ripples.

Your breath catches in your throat, chest suddenly tight. That metallic taste thickens. The ground tilts. Your knees buckle.

And just before the dark swallows everything — the boy takes a step forward. Reaches out.

Whispers something you can’t hear.

Then—

Beep. Beep. Beep.

You jolt.

Lungs seize. Gasping. Blinding white light pierces your vision and your body arches with panic. You’re choking — no, breathing. Too fast. Too much.

Plastic tubes. A needle in your arm. A weight on your chest.

You cough, the metallic taste still there, but fainter now. Real. Heavy.

Everything hurts.

A hand grabs yours — warm, steady. A voice breaks through the fog.

“Hey—hey, it’s okay. You’re okay—” You turn your head sharply, eyes wide, disoriented.

A boy sits at your bedside. Breathless. Pale. Tear-streaked and bruised. But smiling — like something inside him just shattered from relief.

Your heart stutters.

You know that face.

Brown eyes. Dimpled smile. Blonde hair, though darker now under hospital lights.

You blink again.

“Thank god,” he whispers, voice cracking. “You’re awake.”

You stare at him.

And then, barely audible:

“...Who are you?”

The smile falters. His eyes flicker.

“W-What?”

You swallow thickly, throat raw. “I don’t… I don’t know you.”

Silence crashes into the room like a wave.

He lets go of your hand — slowly, like it hurts him — and leans back in the chair, heart visibly sinking. The monitors beep steadily behind you. But the sound that echoes the loudest is the heartbreak in his silence.

You turn away from him. Dazed. Confused. All you can remember — all you can feel — is the echo of a dream.

A boy in the dark.

Reaching for you.

The words hang there.

For a moment, Jungwon just stares.

Like he didn’t hear you right. Like if he just blinks, the world will reset and you’ll say something else. Something true.

But you don’t.

His breath hitches. He stumbles forward in the chair, blinking fast, like he’s trying to stay grounded. 

“Wait—what do you mean you don’t remember me?” His voice cracks around the edges, high and sharp. “No—no, you have to. It’s me. It’s—Jungwon.”

You flinch at the name. It doesn’t stir anything inside you.

He leans closer, hand reaching out again, desperate now. “We were together. You—You trusted me. I saved you, I—” His voice breaks completely. “Please. Don’t do this. Please tell me you remember.”

You shake your head slowly, heart thudding faster. “I—I don’t… I don’t know you, I don’t know any of this—”

The panic rises before you can stop it. The room feels too bright. Too loud. Your chest tightens.

Jungwon sees the fear on your face. And it destroys him.

He stumbles back, as if your expression physically pushed him. “No—no, no, this can’t be happening—” he mutters, hands shaking as he grips his hair. “You can’t forget me. Not after everything. Not after—” His voice cuts out in a strangled sob.

The door slams open.

Doctors and nurses flood in, their voices sharp and urgent.

“She’s awake—she’s panicking—her heart rate’s spiking—”

One of them grabs Jungwon by the shoulders. “Sir, you need to step back.”

“No—she knows me, I swear, I—she just needs more time—” he pleads, struggling as two nurses pull him away from the bed. He thrashes in their grip. “Don’t touch her! Let me explain—please!”

You gasp, curling in on yourself as the machines beep louder, faster. Your breathing turns shallow, ragged.

“Get the sedative ready,” someone says quickly. “She’s in full distress.”

“I don’t understand,” you whisper, tears streaking your cheeks as you try to make sense of the chaos. “Why am I here? What’s happening?”

They press an oxygen mask gently to your face, murmuring reassurance.

Through the blur, you see Jungwon being pulled out of the room, kicking, shouting your name like he can drag the memory of him back into your head with sheer will.

Then the door closes.

And it’s just the beeping, the white light, and your shattered silence.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

The recovery is painfully slow.

Jungwon never strays far. He doesn’t sleep much. Most nights, he curls up on one of the cold chairs just outside your hospital room, watching the light under the door like it holds a heartbeat. He listens every time the machines beep, every time nurses shuffle by. He never pushes to see you. Just waits.

The doctors tell him memory loss like yours is… not uncommon.

“Dissociative amnesia,” one of them explains gently. “Her body’s in recovery, but the brain’s protecting her from trauma. It may come back on its own, or it may not. These things… take time.”

Time. Jungwon nods like he understands, but every second feels like a knife dragging across his skin. All he can do is wait, and hope.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

One quiet evening, a nurse steps into your room to adjust your IV and finds you sitting up, eyes half-lidded but focused.

“I want to go outside,” you say, voice scratchy from disuse.

The request stirs something in the staff—they glance at each other before nodding. A few minutes later, your door opens again. This time, Jungwon steps in.

He looks surprised to see you upright. His eyes are red-rimmed, cheeks hollow. But he softens the moment your gaze lifts to his.

You don’t smile. Don’t frown either.

You just look at him.

Like he’s a stranger.

The doctor explains that Jungwon will accompany you. You nod slowly, unsure why, but something inside tells you not to argue.

He walks behind your wheelchair, gripping the handles gently. His fingers tremble, just a little, as he begins pushing you down the hallway.

Silence swells between you like a fog. It isn’t uncomfortable—just delicate. Fragile. You feel the tension in his arms. The way his breaths hitch every time you shift.

He sniffs quietly. You almost miss it.

You fidget with the hospital blanket draped across your lap, fingers knotting into the fabric.

After a long stretch of silence, he finally speaks, voice low and hesitant.

“How’ve you been feeling?”

You hesitate. “I… I’m okay.”

You aren’t sure if that’s true. But it’s the easiest answer.

He nods behind you, then asks, more carefully, “Your memory?”

Your eyes drift to the window you’re rolling past. A smear of sunset bleeds across the glass.

“Still nothing,” you murmur.

His silence is deafening. You don’t see the look on his face—but you feel it in the air.

A quiet heartbreak.

He clears his throat, trying to hide it. Tries to make small talk. Mentions how bad hospital food is, how the vending machine downstairs is always broken. You nod here and there, giving weak chuckles. But after a while, it becomes too much. The noise in your head gets louder than the one in the hallway.

Your breathing quickens.

He notices immediately.

In the past—though you don’t remember—Jungwon would always hug you when this happened. Stroke your hair. Sit quietly until your heart calmed down.

Now, he hesitates.

Then, slowly, he lifts his hand and gently brushes your hair back, his fingers barely grazing your scalp.

You flinch.

Only a little.

But then—something.

Warmth. Familiarity. A calm you can’t place floods your chest.

Your body relaxes before your mind understands why.

You stare straight ahead, breath slowing, and whisper, “Have you… done this before? It feels… familiar.”

His lips part, chest tightening.

“Every time you needed it,” he says softly.

You don’t know what to say. The emotion that rises in you is raw, wordless.

You stay like that for a moment—suspended in something unspoken, something that feels like the echo of a memory just out of reach.

But then it passes.

The comfort fades.

You shrink back a little. He notices, his hand falling slowly to his lap.

“I’m getting tired,” you say, voice barely above a whisper.

He doesn’t press. “Let’s go back.”

The hallway feels longer this time. He pushes you with steady hands, guiding you back into your room. Once inside, he helps you into bed, being careful not to touch too much, not to make you uncomfortable.

He adjusts the blankets over you, brushing a stray hair behind your ear before stepping back.

He turns to leave.

But something tugs at you.

Your fingers wrap around his wrist, just lightly.

“Will you… stay?” you ask, almost afraid of the answer.

He turns back to you slowly, expression unreadable—then softens with a smile. “Of course.”

He pulls the chair beside your bed and lowers himself into it. Neither of you speak for a while. The silence returns, but it feels different now.

Gentler.

He checks the time on his phone, angling the screen slightly away. You glance over anyway.

There, on the lock screen, is a photo of the two of you. You’re laughing. His arm is around you. There’s something smeared on his white shirt.

You blink. “Is that… us?”

He looks up. Surprised. Then he smiles softly and unlocks the phone. With practiced fingers, he scrolls through hundreds of photos, then stops on the same one.

He turns the screen toward you.

You reach for it. Your thumb hovers over the image as you stare.

The happiness in your expression. The way he’s looking at you like you’re his whole world.

You don’t remember it.

But you wish you did.

“We look happy,” you murmur.

He chuckles, then zooms in on the red blotch on his shirt. “That was from a corndog.”

You look at him, confused.

He grins faintly. “You were so excited I bought you one at the carnival, you spun around too fast and smeared ketchup all over me. You apologized the rest of the day. I didn’t care. I made you take this photo with me.”

He pauses, then adds, “Tickled your side right before I snapped it, so you’d laugh for real.”

Your throat tightens. You can’t explain why, but you feel a tear slide down your cheek. You didn’t even realize it was coming.

He notices but doesn’t reach for you this time.

“It’s okay,” he says gently. “Take your time.”

You nod.

Eventually, sleep tugs at your eyes. Your head lolls to the side.

Jungwon stands slowly. He leans over, resting his hand softly on your head. He doesn’t kiss your skin—he kisses his own hand, then brushes it gently across your hair.

“No matter how long it takes,” he whispers, voice cracking just slightly, “I’ll wait for you to come back to me.”

You’re almost gone. Almost dreaming.

But some part of you hears it. And for the first time, you want to remember.

You shift under the covers. You don’t reach out.

Not yet.

He picks up his things and walks to the door, where a doctor is waiting.

“She’ll be starting a stronger medication regimen,” they say quietly. “You should know—sometimes it gets worse before it gets better.”

He swallows hard. The weight of those words sinks into his bones.

He nods. “Okay.”

As the doctor walks away, Jungwon turns for one last glance through the window.

You’ve sat up again. Your hand rests gently on the top of your head—right where he touched you.

He smiles softly.

And leaves.

previous < > next

⟡ tl: @vixensss (read rules before asking to be added ᥫ᭡. )

[plaguewormart]

Once again thinking about Vincent as pope…

Vincent hating the attention he’s given for doing simple things such as carrying his own bags, knowing the Swiss guards names, hugging children when they run up to him. Vincent despising how every human thing he does immediately becomes a headline: “Pope listening to music!” (He was wearing headphones and listening to some old favorites while hanging out with the turtles) “Innocent XIV goes shopping!” (He forgot to bring a book to the airport and just wanted to buy something to read on the plane) “The pope wears converse!” (He’d owned the same pair of shoes for three years, and he’d stitched them up himself after the fabric tore)

Vincent feeling more isolated than ever. Despite never being alone, there is not a single person who treats him as a person. He’s constantly watched, yet never invited into casual conversations, no one asks him to join them for coffee, no one rants about their boring work or tells him about their favorite books or talks about the weather.

Vincent waking up in a cold sweat most nights. Dreams of war haunting his sleep, the faces of the dead burned into his mind. He wakes up gasping for air, or screaming, or running to the bathroom to throw up.

Vincent sleeping on the floor more often than the bed. Vincent flinching at loud noises and always scanning the room for threats and ways to escape.

Vincent having flashbacks and panic attacks on the floor of his bathroom, not being able to call anyone for help because he’s the pope, he’s not allowed to fall apart or ask for help or take a break.

Vincent who cannot handle being snuck up on from behind, who can’t have meat that isn’t well done, Vincent who hides his shaking hands behind his back as he speaks about the saints who were stoned to death, because he knows what that looks like.

Vincent who once gets so startled by the bang of a bible being dropped onto the floor of St Peter’s cathedral while he’s holding mass that he instinctively ducks behind the altar, covering his head, sure that he’s back in the war. Vincent who has to continue his sermon with shaking hands and voice, with his normally so present and kind eyes suddenly showing a far-away look. And Vincent who has to read the headlines afterwards, despite Aldo doing his best to shield him.

I also think about Thomas.

Thomas who tries to joke with Vincent about how the masses have never seen a pope young enough to have the strength to carry his own bags, Thomas who reminds him that even though he is the pope, he’s still human.

Thomas who, despite this, is unable to call him Vincent. Thomas who has always seen the papacy as closest to the God he has such a hard time reaching, and Thomas who no longer sees Vincent when he looks at the pope.

Thomas who tries to comfort Vincent, but keeps calling him Your Holiness, and watching as Vincent pulls away more and more.

Thomas who once entered Vincent’s room at night to leave him an urgent document, and found the pope curled up on the floor.

Thomas who always sees when Vincent’s hands start to shake, who can sense Vincent’s breathing quicken and his eyes start searching for escape routes. Thomas who can’t do anything to help, because the pope cannot be seen having to be escorted away because of anxiety.

Thomas who tries to learn what triggers Vincent, Thomas who takes notes on what makes the pope flinch or shake or hide away. Thomas who discreetly informs the rest of the staff closest to Vincent about how important it is to never sneak up on him from behind, or serve him anything resembling torn off flesh.

Thomas who finally sees how Vincent is actually doing once the incident at mass happens. Thomas who argues with everyone to try to allow Vincent to end mass early, but failing. Thomas who sends the altar boys and deacons away from the sacristy once mass is over and finally greets the pope by his original name.

Thomas who opens his arms and his heart as he sees the shaking man in front of him. “Oh my dear Vincent” he says, and his heart breaks as Vincent falls into his arms and sobs.

Thomas who holds him tightly, whispering apologies for letting this continue, who promises to be better. Thomas who helps Vincent change out of his sweat soaked vestments, and who lets Vincent explain the horrors he’s seen.

I also think about Aldo

Aldo who’s in the background of it all. Who sees how the new pope seems to be getting even thinner than he was. Aldo who tries his best to minimize Vincent’s amount of paperwork on the days where the pope arrives to breakfast at 5 am with bloodshot eyes and holding his mug of tea with trembling hands.

Aldo who more than once has held up Vincent’s hair as he throws up after stressful meetings with world leaders who are decimating entire populations. Aldo who sometimes pretends not to see invites from some of the dictators he knows Vincent hates the most.

Aldo who tries his best to keep the news away from Vincent whenever he’s in the headlines. Aldo who brings Vincent hot chocolate whenever he knows an article will have upset him.

Aldo who always remembers to make his steps louder or clear his throat if he’s walking up to the pope from behind. Who will always make sure there is a vegetarian option that won’t remind the pope of wounded and dead bodies.

Aldo who every so often sees the pope’s eyes flicker to the side, and knows it means Vincent is quietly suppressing the most horrible flashbacks, even with a smile on his face. And Aldo who always makes sure he has an excuse ready to get Vincent out of situations when it happens.

Aldo who tries his very very best to make Thomas realise that Vincent needs him.

Aldo who feels a weight leave his heart once he sees Thomas leading a shaking Vincent through the halls of the Santa Martha, and who smiles when they both enter the Homy Father’s room.

[magical-reid]

The Soldier and His Mission

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 1K

Summary: When a trigger sends Bucky back into the grip of the Winter Soldier, he shadows you with an unyielding protectiveness that leaves the team on edge, though he doesn't harm anyone. After days of tension and careful steps, Bucky finally breaks through the icy barrier, returning to himself in a quiet, tender moment, finding solace in your presence.

You should’ve known something was wrong the moment Bucky went still.

One second, the mission was wrapping up—just another Hydra facility wiped off the map, just another set of goons taken down. The next, something triggered him. A phrase muttered in Russian over a radio, the faintest crackle of a long-dead handler’s voice. You saw the shift in his posture before he even turned around, the telltale tightening of his jaw, the blankness overtaking those usually warm blue eyes.

Bucky Barnes was gone.

The Winter Soldier stood in his place.

And yet—he didn’t hurt you.

Not when he turned to face the team, his body language bristling with danger. Not when Steve hesitated before stepping forward, his hands raised in a placating gesture. And certainly not when you cautiously called his name, your voice softer than the others.

Instead, the Soldier moved between you and everyone else.

A shield.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Back at the Tower, you thought the episode would pass. That maybe, after a few hours, after enough familiar sights and sounds, Bucky would shake it off like he always did.

But the Soldier wasn’t leaving. And he had decided you were his mission.

Not to eliminate.

To protect.

At first, it was just hovering. You moved—he followed. You sat—he stood at your back, ever watchful. The others gave him space, exchanging worried glances when they thought you weren’t looking. Steve was tense, obviously trying to figure out how to break through, while Tony was less patient about it.

“This is a problem,” Stark declared after the first few hours, arms crossed as he leaned against the counter. “I mean, I hate to be the one to say it, but we have a fully armed, brainwashed assassin in the Tower again, and we all know how that went last time.”

“He’s not attacking anyone,” Natasha pointed out.

“Yet,” Tony shot back.

You ignored the argument as best you could, focusing instead on cooking something for Bucky—something normal, something familiar, something that might ground him. His eyes tracked you the entire time.

Then you miscalculated the heat on the stove.

The oil in the pan hissed and spat, and a second later, you hissed too as a sharp sting bloomed across your palm. You barely had time to react before there was a sudden blur of motion.

Bucky was on you instantly.

His flesh hand gripped your wrist, his metal one hovering protectively over the stove, as if it had personally attacked you. His face was unreadable, but his grip was firm, his hold gentle as he examined the burn.

“I’m okay,” you assured him, but he wasn’t listening.

Instead, he took the cold pack you hadn’t even reached for yet and pressed it carefully to your palm, his jaw tight, his brows furrowed in focus. You exchanged a look with Steve over Bucky’s shoulder, and the Captain exhaled, something like relief flashing in his eyes.

He was still in there.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The Soldier continued shadowing you for the next two days, much to Tony’s frustration. But as Natasha had pointed out—he wasn’t hurting anyone.

Unless they posed a threat to you.

That was something Steve learned firsthand during a sparring session. You had barely landed a hit before Bucky, watching from the sidelines, had moved. The next thing you knew, Steve was on his ass, blinking up at the ceiling, while Bucky stood between you like a human wall, eyes cold and calculating.

“For the record,” Steve grunted as he sat up, rubbing his ribs, “I was letting her win.”

Bucky wasn’t convinced.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It wasn’t until you needed a medical checkup that things really came to a head.

“Barnes, I have to actually examine her,” Dr. Cho said patiently, eyeing where Bucky stood between you and the med bay’s equipment.

“No,” he replied flatly.

“Bucky—” you tried.

“The room is secure.”

“That’s not the—”

“She does not require assistance.”

“I do require assistance,” you corrected. “Because I burned my hand and twisted my shoulder thanks to a certain super soldier overreacting in the gym.”

Bucky didn’t move.

You exhaled slowly.

“Okay,” you said, shifting tactics. “Then stay.”

That got his attention.

“If you want to make sure nothing happens to me,” you reasoned, “then you can stay here. But you have to let the doctor check me out.”

His expression was unreadable for a long moment. Then, after what felt like an eternity—

“…Understood.”

Progress.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

When it finally broke, it wasn’t dramatic.

There was no grand trigger, no huge revelation.

Just a moment of quiet.

You had fallen asleep on the couch, exhaustion finally winning after two days of Bucky’s overprotective hovering. When you woke up, it was to warm hands gently brushing over your wrist—both flesh and metal, but softer this time, as if relearning the feeling of touching you.

And then you heard it—his breath hitching.

A tiny, barely-there sound, but one filled with something raw.

You blinked sleepily, looking up.

Bucky was staring at you. Not the Soldier. Bucky.

His face was pale, his jaw tight, his eyes wide—his real eyes.

“…Doll?” His voice cracked over the word, like it had been caught in his throat.

You smiled sleepily, shifting so your fingers curled around his. “Hey, Buck.”

His exhale was shaky. His shoulders sagged. And when you tugged him down to you, he didn’t resist.

He just buried his face in your neck and held on.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“You scared the hell out of me, you know,” you murmured later, your fingers absentmindedly running through his hair as he rested against you.

“I know,” he admitted, voice rough.

“You threw Steve like a ragdoll.”

“…Yeah.”

“…Kind of hot, not gonna lie.”

A laugh. Quiet, but real.

And just like that, Bucky Barnes was back.

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s child

Tony Stark x child!reader

warnings: alcohol ment,

a/n: so i just really think that the concept of tony having the party kid as opposed to nerdy avenger kid would be a really cool idea to explore teehee. most of this does actually take place pre-avengers tho!!

prompt:

you we’re quite the exhausting kid

“is this really how it felt to raise me?” -tony

many of nights he’d find your bed empty, you’d snuck out to go have your fun as teenagers do

“yeah, boss, i imagine it was” -happy

you always showed back up in one piece (like him) and besides a little slap on the wrist you didn’t get much discipline

actually, it usually went like:

“so, where did you go off to last night?” -tony

“a party” -you

“really? didn’t want to loop me in before you snuck out…again?”

“last time i told you about a party you showed up!”

“uh—yeah, but it’s not like i went all dad on you and dragged you away or anything”

“yeah, you joined the party and offered to buy teenagers more booze”

“hey, they all loved you after that! and they couldn’t get enough of my classic dance moves” -tony, jokingly doing the sprinkler with one arm “but seriously, let me know next time”

“we’ll see about that” -you

^the above conversion went about the same every time

sometimes for entertainment purposes you’d try a little harder, throw a few pillows under the covers to make it look like you were still home to put a smile on tony’s face

“aw, y/n reminds me so much of me” -tony

tony was still partying at this point so you’d flip the script on him from time to time

“you were out late” -you

“what are you, a cop? leave me alone. actually, can you get me some aspirin and water?” -tony

“sure, one or two” -you

“make it three” -tony

he would nurse your occasional hangovers (what a great dad!)

okay, he didn’t always know when you were gone. he was busy a lot of the time with his own business and extracurriculars so you guys did just kinda do your own thing for certain stretches of time

honestly you could be a bit of a klepto in the best of ways

but only to tony and only for fun

“oh, great, where’s my car?” -tony

“which one?” -pepper

“the black one!” -tony

“be more specific” -pepper

“the only one missing from my garage!” -tony

“yeah, i know, just wanted to give you some more time to think about it” -pepper

“i changed the code on the lockbox like, five times this week. did they hotwire it?” -tony

“we are talking about your kid, right? pretty sure they just hacked it” -pepper

“i am…so proud” -tony

you MAY have gotten a few close calls with authorities, but nothing tony couldn’t handle

and up until tony’s accident, the phrase “you’re going to give me a heart attack” was silly and endearing

“you might actually give me a heart attack, y/n, give a guy some warning or just say please for god’s sake” -tony, now comes with an arc reactor in his chest

“sorry” -you

“what—huh—didn’t hear ya, wanna say that a little louder?” -tony, very sarcastically

i tell ya when he got that armor u couldn’t tell if u were gonna flip out at him or invite him to a party

or steal it for…you didn’t even know what

but tony was 3 steps ahead of you when all this came to be

and you weren’t very interested in weapons, still just parties and dumb fun for you

“dad, i dont wanna be a nerd, will you just let me go out?” -you

“come on! just help me in the lab a few hours, what’s it gonna hurt?” -tony

“my social status” -you

“might i remind you you’re a stark? i think you’ll live if you miss one party” -tony

“you’d be surprised” -you

“hey, i almost died! give your old man a break” -tony

once tony got involved with SHIELD and the avengers he got even busier really

and in came the parenting advice from fury, clint, nat, steve

“hey, i don’t see you raising a teenager, back off” -tony

*clint side eye*

steve once tried to give you a good talking to, but you reminded him a great bit of your father with your stubbornness

“you done? i dont think you should be giving out any parenting tips fresh off the ice” -you

tony was kind of proud of you for sticking to your guns

especially around such powerful people

but you had a knack for that and could do it to practically anyone

mostly because you felt like an invincible teenager since you were raised by tony, who also thought himself an invincible teenager at one point

u tried to tone down giving tony grief when he started having panic attacks

since u accidentally caused a few by pushing boundaries and staying out for several nights in a row

cuz as tony gained more enemies, he thought you’d be in more danger

which was true

“happy, you’re y/n’s personal bodyguard” -tony

“no!” -you

“uh, cool? any fun parties planned tonight? i’ll be the designated driver. god knows i’ve been tony’s too many times” -happy

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @johnmurphyisqueer // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @petersgroupie // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @bad4amficideas // @sheridans-dynamos // @simsrecs // @prettysbliss // @skdkdkckfk // @simp-legend // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @evilcr0ne // @v0idl1nq // @ruvaakke // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @amirahiddleston // @beth-gallagher22 // @brutal-out-here // @rqmanoff // @elenavampire21 // @mymelodymia // @pheonixfire777 // @deanzboyfriend //

[m00nkeiki]

Remember in those romance books where the male main character growls "touch her and die." How would you feel about the monster trio (and Law) saying "touch her and die" but they growl while they say it?

H0i!!! Congrats on being my first anon!  This was really fun to think about! I will be honest, I barely dip my toes in romance books, buuut I do love me some protective blorbos who care for you lots!  I feel like in terms of playing the trope straight, it would definitely fit Luffy and Zoro. Meanwhile, Sanji and Law would word and say it differently, but they’ll still have the grit in the voice and say the classic phrase in a manner that fits them. Hence, I’ve varied the scenarios and dialogue a bit to match each character, but made sure they work in the vein of the trope~

Request: Touch Her and Die Featuring: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, and Law; Fem Reader Content Warning: mildly violent diction, implied kidnapping/capture in Luffy's and Law's section (but can be interpretated otherwise), stalking/harassment in Sanji’s section (but he saves you dw).

Luffy

I think he would definitely say this with so much earnestness. Luffy cares for his loved ones so much that he would always rush to violence if there was the prospect of them getting hurt. If he holds these feelings for the friends he cares and cherishes for, imagine what he’d do for a lover.

Despite his brash mind, Luffy does not take the concept of death lightly: after all, it’s not in his nature to easily take a life as he prefers to disarm then defeat an opponent. Hence, if it meant protecting you, it would mean having to forgo his usual rule.

Before Luffy comes to your rescue, all hope seemed lost, as if you could have been swallowed in a pool of despair and darkness. Then, like daybreak, the Straw Hat Pirate arrives. He kneels down on you, to check if you’re okay. His expression is a blank kind of warmth, the one where he is trying to hold his emotions back to focus on ensuring your safety. You’ll know he’ll smile when the coast is clear and everyone is alright. No, not now. Not when you’re vulnerable like this.

After reassuring himself that you were safe, you could see how his usually bright wide eyes tense up, as if his irises are a blank dot in each of eyes. 

Then he turns his head to his opponent, marching forward as a humming grrrr emanates from his lungs. Luffy grits his teeth, his hands forming into fists that were sure to land a painfully harsh blow.

“You bastard.”

Luffy was trembling; not out of fear, but the forewarning that he could burst into a pour of punches that would break every bone in one’s body. The moment he speaks and growls, it’s gritty and low, a looming punishment for the enemy who could have hurt you.

“Touch her, and die.”

Zoro

He’s not training to be the greatest swordsman only because swordsmandry is his passion, but also because he wants to protect the friends who were precious to him, especially you. If he failed that promise, he would beat himself down for it. But Zoro cannot afford to fall into this pitfall. No, he’s got to keep training, keep fighting, keep pushing. If he reaches his limits, he’ll crack them open and surpass them. 

Even if he was well aware you too were a capable fighter, Zoro cannot help but have this little voice inside of him: what if he was too late? Thus, he promises that he will be there to shield you with his sword.

So when you were about to be the victim to an enemy’s lethal blow. Swift like the wind, Zoro deflects the incoming attack, glancing back to ensure you were alright. After creating a forceful X with his katanas as the enemy backs off, Zoro brandishes them, steel sharpening against steel to create a menacing threat.

Zoro is a demon: the kind you are grateful that you were his ally, friend, lover—instead of an fiend who would shed no mercy or forgiveness. You trusted that he was strong enough, that he would protect you at all costs even if the ends turn out ghastly and gory. 

One you heeded Zoro's yell to focus on getting to safety, you watched from afar to see him turn into the feared swordsman, the way he lets out a ghastly snarl as he became like a tiger, swords as claws about to prance.

“Oi, touch her…”

And in the next moment, he brandishes two of his katanas, a pierce of red from his open eye glaring into the person who dared hurt you. Growling like an oni boiling with fury, Zoro was determined to slash and slice the enemy who, if he had not come in the right moment, could have ended your life.

“and die.”

Sanji

Sanji will never stand for anyone laying a finger on his beloved. He always believed in kindness, to treat others right and to have empathy when they make difficult choices. But there were some acts that were simply unforgivable—especially if they were targeting you.

The blond cook, who always promised to safeguard you from all harms through the power of his martial kicks, sighted you one day as you were chased by a lecherous man. With the way you had forced your pace and let out anxious breaths, he could not stand for this. Nobody deserved this horrifying experience, for the lack of respect that came with stalking and harassment was disgusting in Sanji’s eyes, with the way his curled eyebrows furrowed. 

A knight in a tailored suit, Sanji dashes to your aid, running in kicks as he apprehends your stalker: It was one of the rare times he uses his hands as a threat—the way he grips the shoulder of your harasser, squeezing them tight as if he were to crack and break their flesh open. If not, he’ll kick upwards with his powerful legs to split their body in vertical halves.

At this moment, Sanji wishes he could instead rush past and hold you tight, to protect you from such cruelty of the world and whisper affirmations of safety. But first, he’s going to give your stalker an admonish.

“You shitty asshole. How dare you try to touch her…”

Sanji spat, with his voice evolving into a dark gritty tone as if he had smoked a hundred cigarettes beforehand. His grip tightening, you know he’ll keep his promise as your guardian and lover, and to the person who harassed you, a painful kickdown.

“And if you take one step further, you die.”

Law

Law has always been protective of you. He cares for you and your individual, and if you are adjacent to any kind of danger he will worry gravely. Law feels the utmost responsibility to keep you safe, because if there was even the slightest scratch on you, or a sense of unforgotten horror in your eyes, he will never forgive himself.

He also does not say the word “die” lightly. Following a doctor’s code, all life is sacred, and even with his callous streak when it comes to tormenting enemies, Law does not have it in him to kill. But when push comes to shove, when his loved one is in danger… Law may have to break that personal code.

Before anything, he has to prioritize saving you first. Once you hear him yell “Room!” then “Shambles!” you find yourself swiftly teleported to Law’s side, and you see how he was straining himself in his stance: the inked fingers of his right hand curled, the dark circles growing larger around his eyes… He’ll exhaust himself first before anything can happen to you.

Then he faces his opponent, the one who could have hurt you if Law was even a second late. Before the confrontation, Law tells you to get away from the battle before things get ugly. 

Law enjoys playing and messing around with his opponents, but not this time. Grabbing the hilt of Kikoku and ready to unsheathe it at any moment, Law gives the enemy an ultimatum.

“I’ll give you a choice. You can walk away right now, and I won’t mess with you.”

Then, his golden eyes seem to flash, a premonition of what will come if his advice is not followed.

“But if you are still thinking about touching her, even in the slightest…”

Then with a growl, he affirms: 

“then die.”

~~~

I hope you enjoyed anon! Until then—see ya!

For more works: First hug from the Monster Trio First hug from Ace, Sabo, and Law

[galedekarios]

Dragon Age: Veilguard | The Ultimate Preview Summary

shinobi602 on twitter shared this amazing in-depth summary of all new information about the game that we have so far:

Coming to PS5, Xbox Series X and PC in Fall 2024

Consoles: Quality and Performance modes (60FPS)

Photo mode is confirmed

Fully offline single player, no EA account linking, no micro-transactions'

Play as a human, elf, dwarf, or Qunari

Choose your backstory, 6 factions to choose from when you create your character, all with "deep roots in Thedas": Antivan Crows, Grey Wardens, Shadow Dragons, Veil Jumpers, Lords of Fortune, The Mourne Watch

Each faction offers 3 distinct buffs each, like being able to hold an extra potion or do extra damage against certain enemies, and the odd reference in dialogue

You can customize your Inquisitor from Dragon Age: Inquisition in the character creator and "make a few key decisions that will impact how The Veilguard begins"

There are some "killer cameos" from past games that show up

Warrior Class: Use a sword and shield or two handed weapon to send enemies flying

Rogue Class: Utilizes quick movement and reflexes. You can wield a bow or dual swords with "powerful, precise strikes for lethal damage"

Mage Class: Use magic to incinerate, freeze, electrocute and crush. Some cast from afar, while others prefer close quarters combat

Each class also has 3 sub-specializations, such as duelist, saboteur, or veil ranger for the Rogue

Classes also have unique 'resource system's, for example, the Rogue has "momentum", which builds up as you land consecutive hits, and each will always have a ranged option

One Rogue momentum attack is a "hip fire" option we saw for the Rogue's bow, letting you pop off arrows from the waist

Another momentum attack for the Warrior lets you lob your shield at enemies

Quests are more handcrafted and mission based, curated with alternate paths, secrets to discover and optional content

There are also open ended explorable areas

Party size of 3 during combat, ala Mass Effect

Combat is focused on real-time action, dodge, parry, counter, "sophisticated animation canceling and branching", using risk-reward charge attacks designed to break enemy armor layers

Enemies have elemental weaknesses and resistances, and you can chain together elemental combos for extra damage

One example is a squadmate using a gravity well attack to suck enemies in, another slowing them down, and the player then unleashing a big AOE attack

You don't take direct control of companions like past Dragon Age games, but you can still pause and issues ability commands for you and your allies

There is a hub area for the player like Skyhold and the Normandy, called The Lighthouse

Companions can eventually start romancing other characters if you opt not to romance them

Each companion also has unique missions tied to them that play into the larger story

Nudity confirmed - romance scenes can get "a little spicy"

"Incredibly deep" character creator: 5 categories including: Lineage, Appearance, Class, Faction, Playstyle

Players can also choose different body sizes and shapes

Dozens of hairstyles to choose from, with "individual strands of hair rendered separately and reacting quite remarkably to in-game physics", pulled from EA Sports

Character creator lets you adjust the lighting so you can be sure your character looks good

The team wanted to balance the look of the game with both light and darkness. "When everything is dark, nothing really feels dark. For this one, we really wanted to build that contrast again."

Skill tree is "vast", you can also set up specific companions with certain kits, from tackling specific enemy types to being more of a supporting healer or flexible all-rounders

There are tarot cards you go through during the character creation process that will let you choose decisions from past games to implement into Veilguard

The team teases you may lose some characters during the story

[revelboo]

I NEED MORE OF THE SEEKERS TRINE PLEASE AAAAAAAAAAA IT'S SO GOOD GOSH I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH AAAAAAAAAAAAAA 🛐💞💞💞

Thanks! How about Seekers x Reader full alternate take?

True Romance

Trine x Reader

18+ 🌶️

• Wings shearing through branches as he drops dangerously low, he can feel his damaged wing screaming at him. He’s losing altitude, paralleling the roads, turbines screaming as he hears those two Autobots dogging him. Knows Thundercracker and Skywarp are headed his way, but not knowing how far out they still are. There’s a car up ahead and he passes by so low his belly scrapes and that’s it. That little wobble and he’s transforming, knees gouging up asphalt as he claws at the ground to stop his slide and he’s barely aware of the car running off the road into the tree line, because there’s the Autobots, weapons drawn on him.

• Groaning, you struggle with the seatbelt, and almost fall out of the car when you get the door open. Your head is pounding, a confused terror spinning you tight, because a jet had almost landed on your car. Shaking fingers reaching up to touch your head where it smacked against the steering wheel and come away wet as you manage to stagger up onto the road and just freeze. Brain refusing to deal with what you’re seeing, because you definitely have a concussion. There’s not three giant, robot monsters in a stand off. Staggering when you try to crane your neck you almost fall in front of the biggest one. The one with jet wings.

• Reacting, he snags the little human as it falls and holds it between him and the Autobots, shielding his spark with it. He can feel its little hands scrabbling at his servos, a pained noise escaping it as it struggles against his grip. But his little impromptu shield works. The Autobots freeze, unwilling to risk a human life, just like he’d hoped. And there, the familiar sound of turbines. Now it’s the Autobots transforming and fleeing as Skywarp and Thundercracker land and attack and his tension drains away. Using a servo to tip the little human’s face toward him, he vents softly. You might just come in handy, a little pet shield. Even if you hadn’t meant to, you’d saved him. For that and that alone, you’ll live.

• “Is that a human?” Thundercracker asks, reaching out as Starscream huffs and hands it over. It’s so small and warm in his servos, trying to curl into a terrified ball as he traces the curve of its spine. Terrified eyes stare up at him, a wound on its head sluggishly bleeding. Hurt and needing him. “Can we keep it?”

• There’s three of them, all similar enough aside from coloration. The black and purple one leaning in to try and grab you from the blue one whose wings lift with a low rumbling sound like a growl that rattles through you. You’re having a hard time focusing on what they’re saying, your head pounding and you just want to sleep, because this will be over when you wake. It’s all just a nightmare. It has to be.

• “We’re keeping it?” Skywarp vents in annoyance when Thundercracker tries to keep the human from him. Like he thinks he’s going to break it just by looking. “Why?” It’s tiny, pathetic and soft. Weak.

• “Because it’s mine,” Starscream says in exasperation, lifting a shoulder experimentally and hissing as his damaged wing pulls. Then Skywarp is there, sliding his arm around him. While he can’t reliably warp to new places, he can unerringly warp home at least. And Starscream reaches for their other brother, gripping Thundercracker’s arm as they warp home with their new pet.

Next

[plutoswritingplanet]

It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha Harkonnen x Female!Reader) pt.1

a/n: i had a "no bald men" rule before he licked a knife... so y'all know my priorities are in order. Cross-Posted on AO3

Warnings: Dub-Con (as per usual), Arranged Marriage, Reader is an Atreides (it's just such a good prompt i couldn't help myself),

Summary: A month-long engagement to the na-Baron Harkonnen makes you question, whether a marriage can bloom on the grounds of hate. Loosely based on "Special Death" by Mirah.

Pt.2, Pt.3 Pt.4 (finale)

The message comes from the Emperor himself. An indisputable order that renders your Father speechless. You've never seen him quite as distraught, as when he has visited you in your chambers to deliver the news. Hands fidgeting, eyes refusing to meet yours, heavy shadows falling across his face. He seems to expect your reaction, not giving you as much as a flinch, when you scream your protests at him. And he should've expected as much, you were always the more impulsive of Duke Leto's children. 

- But the Harkonnens are beasts - you argue, voice breaking - You've said it yourself, many times.

- Actually, I think that was Gurney...

- You've never denied it!

And he doesn't deny it now, head hung low. Never, not once in your life, have you seen your Father give up. Until today. 

Your Mother enters just a few seconds after him, her dress flowing around her ankles as if she had floated in on a cloud. She stands to the side of your bed, hands folded, and an impassive expression embedded onto her features. And the more she speaks of the centuries of breeding, the importance of an union and the powers beyond your understanding, the less you see of your mother. What stands before you, instead, is a Bene Gesserit sister, veiled in schemes and dark plans, which were in the making before you were even born. You curse yourself for not noticing this stranger sooner, and storm off, out of your room, your shawl blowing out behind you like bat wings.

Paul doesn't visit you, but you can hear him, even through the effort of swallowing down your tears. He fights for you against your Father. He would fight for you against the whole Empire if he had to, and your heart swells, as he throws a particularly nasty curse into the air of your Father's study. It doesn't change anything. According to the decree of the Emperror, the oldest daughter of the Duke Leto Atreides will marry Feyd Rautha, an heir to the Baron Harkonnen. A centuries long dispute is about to be put to an end, and all thanks to the small sacrifice, which is your life. All would be well in the galaxy. Really, you should be honored, to be tasked with such a monumental peace treaty.

Everyone in the court seems to know about your situation. Mournful looks follow you, as you walk into the training barracks, ridding yourself of layers upon layers of flowing fabrics, leaving you in a rather tight costume, light enough to beat your frustrations out on someone.

Duncan Idaho meets your searching eyes, and you know he is aware as well. All it takes is one inclination of your chin, and he's up on his feet, sword in hand. Loyal as ever, he stands in front of you, watches with mixed feelings as you enable your shield, no questions asked. None needed. 

He barely has time to put his defenses up, when you charge at him, fury and despair pushing your movements into stances which are clumsy and ill though out. Still, there's power within your strikes, a strength of someone who needs to move, unless they break. So he lets you, for a couple of minutes. He dodges your attacks, pairing some of them, never moving quite into the offense.

The rest of the soldiers scurry off somewhere, for which you will be thankful in the future. They might hear your cries of anger, but they will not see you break. They will not see the way your blade smashes into Duncan's shield over and over again, with no regard for the slow attacks, which would penetrate it. Likewise, they don't see your sparring partner fall to his knees and swipe you off your feet in a split-second movement, making you hit the floor with a frustrated snarl. And they don't see you finally give up, and cry, hugging your blade to your chest, the severity of your circumstance falling onto you, crushing you down.

- Never fight in anger, Princess - Duncan reminds you, voice cautious, and you growl at him like a wild animal - It dulls your instincts, makes you distracted.

- Did you know? - you demand, your sharp voice cutting through his half-assed lecture.

For a moment he looks truly remorseful. His eyes float around the room, and your heart sinks when he sighs deeply.

- I found out not long ago - he confesses - Your Father told me. 

Your blade slides against the floor as you throw it, a raw scream tearing through your throat. Duncan takes a step towards you, hand extended towards your shaking form. But, before he can attempt to touch you, you're up, rolling your shoulders forcefully. Tears stain your cheeks, and you wipe them roughly with the back of your hand, skin becoming irritated almost instantly. There are swords laid out on a small table, just beside you,  your fingers grip the cold handle so hard, your knuckles seem to creak under the pressure. Duncan readies himself as well, dusting off his trousers. 

He's not good at comforting, but he's the best at fighting, and if that's what you need in this cold morning, he'll oblige. 

- You'll make it through, you know - he says, his voice genuine, and you laugh without any mirth.

Your blades clash, faces coming closer as you absentmindedly notice small scars adorning his cheeks.

- You can adapt to anything - you strike against his shoulder, the shield pushes your blade away - We could send you to Arrakis right now, and a week later you'd be riding a damned Sandworm into battle.

To that, you laugh, this time your smile reaching your eyes. The idea is preposterous, but it renders your footsteps lighter, and you twist to dodge a nasty blow to the right arm. Duncan huffs a laugh as well, as you slip through his fingers. He points his blade in your direction, a smirk playing across his lips, and you bare your teeth in a playful display of wildness.

- Careful, Princess, you might scare your betrothed away - Duncan teases, as you roll your dagger in your hand.

- Scare a damned Harkonnen? Do you find me that intimidating? - the idea thrills you just a little bit, you're woman enough to admit it.

- I think you're fucking terrifying.

- Duncan Idaho, you better not be swearing at my Daughter.

Your face falls immediately, as your Father approaches the two of you, shooting Duncan a stern gaze which holds no real threat. Still, your sparring partner raises his hands, his blade tucked away safely into his belt. There's sweat clinging to your skin from all the training, mingling with drying tears on your cheeks, and Duke Leto tries very hard not to comment on your choice of processing recent events. Still, he nods at you, and like a good daughter, you put your blade away, walking from the barracks after him. 

***

The Emperor has called for a traditional, Atreides engagement. A mercy, which you're eternally grateful for. You're not too aware of Harkonnen customs regarding marriage, but given the House's reputation, it couldn't have been pleasant. House Atreides however, took to such matters much more ceremonially, old-fashioned to some. 

Soon, a ship is arriving, with your betrothed onboard, and a month-long courting period willcommence. After that, official engagement and soon after, a wedding. Then, you will be transported back on Geidis Prime, where a life of misery awaits. That's all the time you have. A month.  

The dress, which was picked out for you, is uncomfortable and shows both too much and too little skin at the same time. While your legs are bare and exposed to an almost scandalous degree, a high, stiff collar nearly chokes the life out of you. This whole getup was the idea of your mother, as an attempt to highlight your best features and hide all that might be considered less desirable. 

You have no idea what's wrong with your neck. Perhaps, by cutting off your airflow, your mother aimed to keep you docile. 

She frowns deeply as you tug on the fabric, nerves climbing up your spine, growing more desperate every second. She swats at your hand, and you throw her a look. Out of the corner of your eye Paul smiles at your antics, your only consolation in this hopeless place. 

- Stop fidgeting, you'll tear the dress - Lady Jessica scolds you, and you can sense actual worry underlining her stern voice.

The Harkonnen ship slowly glides into the atmosphere of your home planet, a black, awful thing. Like all things on Geidis Prime, dark and miserable. Soon, you'll join them, adorned in equally black and lifeless clothing, never to see your family again. Never to see the Ocean. Your nails bite into the collar of the dress, you can hear a stitch tear.

- Stop that.

Your hands fall uselessly against your body, as your mother uses the Voice on you. Wouldn't be the first time, you were quite the unruly daughter and Lady Jessica was determined to make a Lady out of you no matter the means. Still, this time, the unnatural tone feels more like a panicked plea,  than a light-hearted scolding. 

- Relax Mother - your voice is sharp, despite the slight tremble - In a months time I'll be gone from here forever, stuck in some blackened cell, wistfully sighing "ooh" "aah".

You place your hand on your forehead in a dramatic display of doubtful acting abilities. When you were younger, your mother would laugh at you, as you enacted scenes from romance books. You would throw yourself at a nearby piece of furniture, pretending to be some wronged lover, or an unhappy bride waiting for someone to liberate her. And your mother would clap her hands, thoroughly entertained.

Today however, she doesn't even crack a smile.

- I don't expect you to be happy about all this - she whispers - But I do expect you to wear your grief with some grace.

A slap would've been kinder, you think, and stare ahead, as the Harkonnen ship opens, and a group of people dressed in black spill out of it like ants from a drowning anthill. Your heart is thrumming hard in your chest, and your hand reaches out, despite all your apprehension, towards your mother. A force of habit, to search consolation within her disregarding the fact, that it was her meddling that put you here. 

Her fingers lace with yours, thumb stroking your palm in an attempt to soothe you. 

Immediately, you know which one of the bald headed Harkonnen is your betrothed. 

He's much taller than you, an imposing figure even despite his rather lean built. His skin is almost completely white, as expected, his teeth are blackened out, as expected as well, and his eyes are bearing into you with an intensity so oppressing, you almost look away. Almost. 

- I present to you, Feyd Rautha, the na-Baron of House Harkonnen. 

The pale man steps forward, releasing you from his gaze for only just a moment, to trade pleasantries with your Father, who looks beyond miserable as he fixes your soon-to-be husband with a tired look. Then, Feyd Rautha is brought before you.

There's grace to his movements you did not expect, as he pushes his black cloak aside, and kneels in front of you. Harkonnen were known for their bulky ruthlessness, but this one... This one reminded you of a panther, the way his eyes travelled the length of your body, full lips pulling upward into a barely noticable smirk. 

Customs, you remind yourself, as your mother's hand squeezes your fingers. You don't want to let her go, but you do, slowly, with so many mixed thoughts rattling around your brain, it makes your head swim. 

Feyd Rautha grabs your extended hand in such a gentle manner, you're almost convinced the Harkonnens have shaved some poor bastard and dropped him off instead of the real na-Baron. Then, he lifts your palm up, until his lips press against your fingertips, a gesture so tender, your heart does a flip in your chest. And then, it stops all together, when his grip on your palm tightens, and he pulls your hand closer, to kiss it properly. As if he can't help himself, he looks up at you, and you realize. 

You almost got yourself caught, but reading people's intentions have been taught to you as fervently as reading texts, and you can see right through this facade of chivalry. There's darkness in this man, a swirling void, which brings a wave of cold fear upon you. This cunning, depraved creature will soon enough become your husband, and you'll be stuck with him forever. How long will he keep up this impeccable appearence? Was this performence for you, your Father, his own twisted fun, or all the things combined?

With a furrowed brow, you tear your hand out of his grasp, a full body shiver running up your spine at the sight of his self-satisfied smirk. He drinks up your reactions like a man parched, and you fight hard to put on a mask of indifference, as he rises from his knees to stand before you in all his imposing glory.

***

You can feel his eyes follow you, as the welcome committee retreats into the Palace. He doesn't let you out of his sight throughout the feast, which takes place immediately after his arrival, and even now, as he gets ready to "entertain" the court by indulging in some barbaric ceremony of his, his eyes are trained only on you. 

It's uncomfortable, to say the least, having him stare at you, while you sit surrounded by your family, who, for the most part, say nothing. Except Paul. Your dear baby brother, your protector in all this madness. As Feyd Rautha throws his coat to the side, showing off his (admittedly impressive) muscles, Paul leans towards you.

- He looks like a hard boiled egg, don't you think sister? - he whispers and subsequently ends your vow of silence. 

The giggle you let out is caught quickly by everyone around, your betrothed included, before you press an open palm against your lips. 

- Behave - your mother warns, and you try, you really do.

But in the serene light of the fading sun, your soon-to-be husband's head does look frighteningly egg-ish. God, you'll get yourself killed, before the wedding ceremony is even resolved if you keep this up.

You're seated high in an outdoor theater. One of your grandfather's favorite places, where he used to dance with bulls for sport. Where he met his demise.

Feyd Rautha presents his knives to you and your family, their blades glint ominously in the setting sun. Again, you are struck with the sheer grace this man exudes. His movements, despite being forceful and wild, have a beauty to them, as if he was rehearsing ancient dance moves, rather than killing blows.

And, despite your brother's earlier comment, there is something enticing in the way his pale skin catches the rays of bleeding sunshine, slowly creeping towards the horizon. He's almost beautiful, almost handsome enough to consider. 

The thought leaves your head almost immediately, as the Harkonnen servants bring in his apparent opponent. Your heart drops to your stomach at the sight of a beaten, dark skinned warrior. Immediately you recognize a Fremen, you've read so much about them in your free time. You know how they filter water, what they eat, how they move through the sands, and despite your knowledge you can't fathom, why this poor man has been brought here. 

At your side, Paul shifts in his seat, all jokes leaving him in a hurry. The both of you watch, as the man you're promised to toys with a clearly drugged victim. Slashes bloom on the prisoners skin, blood sprays in the air. You refuse to look away, to show such weakness, even as Feyd Rautha grabs the poor man by his hair and with a forceful push impales his throat on the blade. Blood pours down onto the sand, paints the Harkonnen's face and chest a deep shade of red.

It's a brutal display of power, of cruelty and wildness the Harkonnens are known for. Suddenly, everything Gurney has warned you about, while training your fighting skills, rings like a thousand of bells in your ears. This is who you will marry, who you will spend your entire life with. 

You swallow down an urge to throw up, and stand up from your seat. 

The show must go on, you think, throwing your Mother one, venomous look, trying to force her to understand your pain. Then, you lock eyes with your betrothed, who watches you from below with a cruel smile, blackened teeth on full display. You meant to congratulate him, to play the part as instructed, but you can do nothing of the sort. Instead, you stare back at him, disgust flowing from your features like a broken faucet. 

Lady Jessica opens her mouth, but before she can, without a doubt, scold you again, you're out of the seating area, your footsteps echoing in the halls. 

Once you're sufficiently tucked away from prying eyes, your back hits the wall, and you allow yourself feel the luxury of unbridled panic. Your breathing comes out in fast, shallow pants, as cold sweat forms on your forehead. Thoughts racing, your fingers tangle into your hair, tugging at the roots. This is your future, the only future waiting for you, and it's filled wth pain and blood.

- Have you enjoyed the fight, my Lady? - you immediately know it's him, despite not hearing him speak before.

A gasp of surprise leaves you before you can catch it, and your back straightens almost painfully fast. 

There he stands, tall and lean, and terrifying. Blood still decorates his torso creating a contrast that is both terrifying and hypnotizing. He watches you, curiosity and humor swirling behind his eyes. You can't decide whether they are completely blackened out, or if they hold a blue, almost serene hue. 

- No - you answer, finding your voice entirely too shaky for your liking - I did not enjoy it.

He laughs, a guttural, low sound that makes the hair stand at the back of your neck. You know he wouldn't dare try anything here, right under your Father's nose while the engagement is still in the making. Yet, as you stand frozen, just you, him and the marble walls around you, dread finds home in the pit of your stomach.

- Was that man Fremen? - you ask, partially to fill the silence, partially because you're genuinely curious.

The man shrugs, you can see muscles moving under his white skin. He takes a step towards you and you will yourself not to run.

- Sometimes we bring a couple of captured desert rats home - he explains with a nonchalant tone - Mostly for entertainment.

The almost bored intonation he uses to describe this barbaric ritual makes something boil deep inside you. 

- That's cruel - you counter, emotions flowing freely onto your face, much to the man's delight - To deny those men the honor of dying on their home planet. To drag them into a completely foreign place, just to kill them for sport, like some animals... It's...

- Some of them live - he cuts you off, taking another couple of steps towards you, but in your growing outrage, you barely notice - Our brothels are filled with Fremen whores.

Your face twist into an expression of utter repulsion, and Feyd Rautha raises his eyebrows in a pathetic mask of confusion, almost childlike giddiness lighting up his eyes as he looks down at you.

- Oh, don't give me that look, my Lady. - he cooes, and you've never felt a stronger urge to slap the daylights out of someone - I know for a fact there are brothels on your planet filled with hungry soldiers.

- Yes - you bark back at him - but the people there are working prostitutes, not slaves!

He shrugs, looking somewhere to the side of your face.

- A waste of money, if you'd ask me.

- Good thing no one has - there's venom in your voice, and your betrothed sucks a breath through his teeth.

You curse yourself for leaving your dagger, for not concealing it somewhere in this ridiculous dress, because the way the Harkonnen's expression shifts freezes blood right in your veins. 

He looks at you, amusement tugging at the corners of his lips, while something much darker lurks in his eyes. His bloodied hand comes up, finger making contact with the exposed skin of your shoulder. You can feel the thick liquid stick to your flesh, as he drags his hand down, painting you, marking you.

- You're quite the little viper, my Lady.

Watching him silently, you don't respond. Don't know how to, when he closes the distance between your bodies enough to make you feel the heat radiating off of his chest, while the smell of blood and sweat completely assaults your senses. It's sickening, the way he looks at you, like you're a new toy, just waiting to be unpacked and destroyed by too eager hands. 

- My Uncle, the Baron, has instructed me, to be the utmost gentleman to you. To woo you completely - his voice is low, barely above a whisper, as he grins down at you - But I just can't lie to my future wife like that, can I?

He leans closer and finally, you take a step back, sliding out of his space, assessing a cautious stance. His hand almost follows you, the skin of your shoulder feels conflictingly cold without him.

- Once we're wed, I will possess you completely - this time you stand your ground, as he approaches, circling you like a lion stalking it's prey - And then...

He leans down beside you, shoulder to your shoulder, close enough for you to feel his hot breath graze your ear.

- Like the bull that took your grandfather's life, I shall pierce you.

The violent innuendo doesn't slip past you, and with hatred brewing behind your eyes, you look straight at him, forcing your fear to lay dormant. 

- You're disgusting.

- And you're blushing like a lovely, virgin bride should - he concludes, sending an awful wink your way, before withdrawing from you completely. 

Your veins burn hot, as you watch him leave, a selfish confidence painting his steps, and you beg every God in existence to grant you a sword in your hand. Or a dagger. A kitchen knife would do as well. Anything, that would help you cut this unbeatable, patronizing, infuriatingly handsome smirk from Feyd Rauthas face.

Alas, you're left with nothing, only a small glimmer of hope dangling in front of you, after your damned betrothed's words fully register in your brain.

A bride you might be, but certainly not a virgin one. Duncan Idaho made sure of that many years ago. The thought makes you smile, despite nerves wreaking havoc in your body. At least that's the one thing Feyd Rautha won't be able to take from you.

[traveler-at-heart]

Stuck Together - Part 6

Summary: After Westview, Wanda and her children go into hiding. She's not happy with the person in charge of protecting them.

Wanda Maximoff x F! Super Soldier R

A/N: This is a short chapter! There will be another one and that will be it for this series :) Ty all for reading!

A cold hand squeezes your neck, and you know that a normal person would be dead by now.

It isn’t human, that’s very much obvious. Looks like Vision, but you remember him differently. Definitely not all white, with those unsettling blue, void eyes.

“I have to kill you”

“Hey, man, we can work it out. Is it because I kissed Wanda?” you try to joke, holding on to his metal arm, hoping there’s a way he can let you go. The lack of oxygen is blurring your vision, but you have to do something.

You have to protect the kids.

“Wanda. Where is she?” he says in that monotone voice that you always hated.

“Not gonna tell you, you freak” you say. “Kids, run back…”

But he’s squeezing your throat, probably trying to make you speak.

Good luck with that, fucking toaster.

A second later, you drop to the floor, gasping for air. As you look up, there are red threads of magic around the synthezoid.

Wanda.

“You ok, detka?” she says, looking at you.

“Yeah, I guess he got a little too jealous, huh?”

“That’s not Vision” she says, looking away. “Take the kids, get out of here”

“No, you get out of here” you say, standing up. You notice the robot is struggling to break free, Wanda’s hand trembling with the effort of keeping him still.

“I’m the only one that can stop him. And I created this mess”

You recognise the guilt in her voice, the burden of thinking every wrong thing that happens must be some kind of punishment.

But that’s bullshit.

Wanda’s not alone, and you won’t leave her.

“Please leave” she repeats, and you know she read your mind. You shake your head no.

“I’ll buy you some time. Take the car and the kids. Drive as fast as you can. I’ll stop him”

“Ok” she finally nods. She twists her hands, throwing the robot as far as she can. Before she runs, though, she turns to kiss you, holding on to you like it’s the only thing keeping her sane.

“I…”

“I know” you smile, pecking her lips. “See you soon, love”

The kids reach for their mother, and you whistle at Riley.

“Go, fetch!”

Your dog runs back to the shed where you keep all your weapons, and you hope training actually paid off.

As for you, you brace yourself for the return of the robot, who seems to be flying back at full speed. You try to remember the few times that you trained with Vision, kicking yourself over being so dismissive of him.

Truth be told, he never really engaged in hand to hand combat.

So, maybe that’s it. Keeping him close will make it harder for him to fight.

Or easier to get yourself killed.

Well, you’re about to find out.

This time, you are prepared for the hand that reaches for your throat, and you punch it away. He’s faster than you remember, and even if you keep him busy, there are a couple of blows that land, and you feel the air leave your lungs, ribs cracking.

“Riley, hurry up, please” you mutter, grabbing the robot by the cape to hold him back.

In that precise moment, you hear a bark, and turn to find your dog excitedly dragging your old shield. All those frisbee jokes paid off in the end.

“Good girl, I owe you a treat. Now out of here”

Sliding down the pier, you grab the shield, turning around just in time to block one of Vision’s attack. It comes back to you like second nature, throwing and catching the shield while you defend and attack.

He begins to anticipate your movements, and at one point blocks one of your punches, sending the shield flying back.

“Fuck, that hurts”

It’s also been a while since you’ve felt your nose breaking. Last time was probably during training with Steve. That was an accident, but it’s very clear that Vision wants you out of sight.

Cold hands reach for you, throwing you against a tree that snaps in half. Before you can stand up to jump and dodge his next hit, an arrow flies past your head, exploding right in his face.

“Bet you’re happy to see me”

Barton.

“You know what? Hell, yeah” you say, catching the shield when he throws it back to you.

“I got someone on the line for you” he says, throwing you a com as well. You place it in your ear, testing it.

“Y/N?” Maria says, and you adjust the shield in your arm while Clint keeps shooting arrows at Vision.

“Hill”

“Hayward sent Vision. Or not Vision. Whatever he is”

“See? I told you to let me kill him”

“We’re trying to hack into its system, but it might take a while. Can you distract him?” Maria says, and you hear her typing at full speed.

“Fine. Hurry. He’s here to kill us, and he ain’t messing around”

Your point is proven a second later, when he throws a boat your way. Clint manages to shoot an arrow straight to his shoulder, an electrical current going through its system.

Vision falls to the floor, weakened, and you take advantage to throw yourself at him. You fight, Clint unable to shoot an arrow as you’re too close to the robot to have a clean view.

Vision takes advantage of this, using you as a shield when Barton decides to shoot, the arrow going straight through your abdomen.

“Shit, Y/N!” Barton says, hurrying to your side. Vision blocks his path, but you can’t be too concerned with that, not when there’s a freakin arrow coming out of your stomach.

With a grunt, you pull it out, feeling the wound heal as you stand up. Your face is full of bruises, a testament of the synthezoid’s strenght. You bounce your shield against his head, attracting attention back to you so Clint can take some distance and shoot from another spot. Unlike you, he won’t survive hand combat against Vision.

“Clint, I’m running out of ideas” you shout, still fighting.

“And I’m running out of arrows”

Great.

You have so many wounds, cuts and broken bones that it takes longer to heal, and Vision looks fine. He doesn’t have a body, so he is not tired, not even out of breath.

“Maria, status”

But you don’t get to hear her answer, Vision covering his ears and grunting. It seems like she’s finally breaking into his systems.

Or making him more lethal, as he grabs you by the collar of your shirt, flying you to the middle of a mountain. You land in a cloud of dust, face inches away from a cliff.

“Did it work?” Maria asks.

“Nope”

She curses, but you’re starting to realise his system is too advanced to hack into. As you look at the rocks above your head, an idea forms.

“Barton, can you shoot at a spot above me? Anything that causes an explosion”

“Not from here”

“Then find a spot and wait for my signal”

“Are you sure?” he says, folding his bow. He already knows what the plan is.

“No, but we don’t have many choices, do we?”

He sighs, knowing that the plan might work, but you won’t survive it. Though you have been through worse sometimes.

“You don’t have to kill them, you know? They’re kinda your family” you try to distract the robot.

“I don’t have a family. Only a mission”

“Your loss, they are pretty damn cool kids”

Finally, you trap one of his arms with your shield, getting suck in a pile of rocks. You try to make time, waiting for Clint’s confirmation.

“I’m in position”

“Shoot above my head”

“You’ll get trapped too”

“I’ll manage” you grunt, trying to keep Vision from flying. He can escape, but only if you let him. “Barton, I don’t have time! You owe me, for Natasha. So just do as I say”

You don’t wait to hear his answer, panicking when you notice Vision is freeing himself. You jump on his back, locking his head in a tight position. He pushes you both to the edge, and you bring him back to the other side, waiting for the explosion.

That’s when you realise how strong he is. He crushes your arm, but you hold on through the pain, even when tries to twist one of your knees.

Finally, you hear an arrow flying close to your head, and the explosion shakes the mountain a second later. Boulders begin to roll, but you don’t move. One hand is above your head, holding your shield and hoping it’s enough to protect you.

Rocks bury the lower half of Vision’s body, but you can’t let go just yet. It isn’t until you see a giant rock rolling your way that you free him, stumbling backwards.

Something hits your head, blood spiling down your forehead as you jump into the river, hoping the fall won’t kill you.

But you pass out before reaching the water.

—

There are bright lights. A constant, beeping sound. Something in your arm.

Not again.

Your mind begins to race, haunted by the memory of years of torture and betrayal, done by your own government.

But then, there’s quiet. You feel a warm touch in your forehead, the softness making your body relax.

“It’s ok, detka. You’re safe”

Wanda.

You open your eyes, looking around the hospital room.

“Hey, witchy”

“I hate it when you call me that”

“I know” you say with a smile. “But could I possibly get a pass? Seeing as I’m in recovery”

“Sure you can, sweetheart” she says, hand in your forehead.

The way she gives in so easily has you worried. There’s something wrong.

“How are the kids? What happened after?”

“They’re fine. Staying with Clint. I just wanted to make sure you recovered before…”

“Before?”

“Before leaving. It’s for the best”

“Wanda” you try to straighten in the bed, grimacing. “Come on, don’t do this”

“You got hurt because of me. It just… this follows me everywhere I go. Death and chaos. I can’t put your life on the line, I’d never forgive myself”

“Wanda, please” you ignore the pain in your side, stretching your hand, searching for hers.

But she moves further away.

“I’ll be ok. And you’ll be better off without me”

“Wanda” you ask once again, but your eyelids feel heavy. You try to stay awake, even as your body is shutting down, and pretty soon you’re fast asleep again.

You know it’s her doing. She’s keeping you from asking her to stay.

Because she knows she’s not strong enough to say no to you.

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Hello! I saw requests were open and came to ask!

Can I ask for headcannons of Sebek, Leona, and Vil with a reader who clings a lot in their sleep? Like even if they don't fall asleep clinging to them they will end up attached. It's just something that happens naturally lol

Remember to take breaks and take good care of yourself! Thank you!

Leona Kingscholar:

Your clinging doesn’t bother Leona, he preferred you being close anyway. It’s almost instinctual for him to be the one wrapping himself around you, an iron grip on you with the message that his sleep was better when you were next to him. You were truly a match made in heaven with how tangled you’d become in the night, holding each other at awkward angles, still able to get a rest despite the constant shifting to get more comfortable together. Leona was always warm, and he thought being surrounded by your scent helped quiet his constant thoughts, so it was a symbiotic relationship.

Sebek Zigvolt:

Sebek can be a sensitive sleeper, as his instincts are all aligned with being alert and ready to fight as quickly as possible, so your clinging behavior can disrupt his sleep from time to time. He doesn’t know why he still gets flustered when you cling to him like that; you were both adults in a romantic relationship so cuddling was a pretty basic step to sharing a bed, but it still threw him off. He didn’t dislike the feeling though, finding it in his nature to be protective of you and theorizing that if an intruder were to burst into the room, you’d be in the ideal position for him to shield you from any attacks sent your way.

Vil Schoenheit:

Vil wasn’t surprised that you were clingy, but it took some time to get used to it, as he was used to being the ‘Queen’ of his own bed, thus having to make room for another person, especially one who wanted to be directly in his space, was a challenge. There are nights where he preferred being in his own space but he’d hold out on arm or allow you to get as close as you could without clinging to him, not minding if your bodies were touching (like your hands on his back, or your leg tucked between his) as long as he had that little bit of freedom he wanted.

[2neaky]

❤︎ .𖥔˚𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙽𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚕𝚎𓍼ོ.𓍢ִ໋

𝓜𝓓𝓝𝓘 ☆ 𝓦𝓐𝓡𝓝𝓘𝓝𝓖𝓢 - reader is aroused from getting a tattoo (soft core) / Eren x Blackreader | mini drabble—working thru a writing slump so bear w. me on these shorter fics, enjoy <3

Over a hundred times per second, thousands of times per minute—the needle keeps hitting delicate skin.

Sometimes it breaks, leaving droplets of blood in its wake. Other times, it’s just strong enough to withstand the attack, leaving the skin raw and swollen.

‘It’s probably red,�� she thinks as her thighs clench around the chair.

There’s a moment of clarity; The needle has been lifted.

“You good?”

His voice almost makes her shiver.

Her closed eyes squeeze together.

“Mhm.”

She hears him moving around some tools behind her. “Use your words.”

“Yeah…”

Low, green eyes bore into the back of her head, watching closely.

From their first meeting, she could tell that Eren was an ‘all-about-the-details’ kind of man. Analytical, almost to a fault (noting the times he’s kept her in his chair longer than needed, just to perfect a tattoo). She doesn’t appreciate him any less for it.

Yet, she’s burning up under his stare. She almost wishes he would look away, as stupid as that sounds.

“Tell me when you need a break.”

She nods and turns her head to the side to rest against the headrest, eyes still closed.

“𓊆ྀི⋆˖ ⭑˚⊹𓊇ྀི.”

Soft mink lashes blink as she peels her eyes open to look at him—as best as she can from this angle, anyway.

“Tell me.”

He’s a soft-talker, quiet most times. But the added edge to his voice at times just gets her.

Usually, she laughs it off, making a joke about him. It makes it easier to ignore the way his tone fires her up.

She can’t laugh this time.

Her body inches up higher against the back of the chair, her wide hips do a meager half-drag against it.

Why did she wear jeans?

“Okay.”

The whine of her voice almost alarms him. His gaze lingers on her for seconds more as his mind replays the way her full lips twitched into a pout.

He saves an apology to continue his work.

The second the needle touches her skin, her spine tenses beneath his hand. It isn’t so much of a big movement that he has to take a pause. Just a tiny shift beneath the skin. Still, he notices it.

He also notices the restless sway of her right knee every time he lifts the needle. And how her hips keep anchoring down against the seat. Even how her breathing picks up.

During their first ever session, he wondered why she would never tap out for breaks. But, it’s too obvious that she enjoys more than she should. Even when she tries to hide it.

A breath of amusement leaves through his nose.

The needle trickles half an inch lower, closer towards one of her back dimples. He applies more force behind the gun.

Her eyes roll back shut. Her arms shield her face, keeping him from seeing her tug her bottom lip between her teeth.

A stifled whimper sneaks out.

“This is gonna be a long one,” he mutters.

He doesn’t lift the needle.

It’s getting harder and harder for her to keep still. She releases her bottom lip and it trembles.

Eren glances up at her and presses a little harder. The sting reaches deeper.

Her lips part as her face pulls together.

“I’m almost done, you could hold out.”

A tiny mewl slips from her. It’s soft and broken, so unlike her strong, brazen attitude.

Something in his chest drops; It free-falls down his stomach and to his dick. He lifts the gun with a sigh.

His breath fans against the raw skin of her back. She shivers as her hips twitch against the chair again.

“Good job.”

[churipu]

hii hope you’re doing good and taking care of yourself!! Can u do jjk men headcannons when their s/o is finds a bug and is telling them to kill it (can u also add nanami)

JJK MEN KILLING BUGS FOR THEIR PARTNER

featuring. nanami kento, gojo satoru, sukuna ryomen x reader

warnings. cursing, bugs ew.

note. hii anonnn, as a person who despises bugs a lot. yes. this request is just *chefs kiss*, and i'm doing absolutely amazing bby, hbuuu?? i hope you like it and thank you so much for requesting mwah mwah <;33

AND U GUYS WE REACHED 800+ FOLLOWERS??? i really don't know what to say, thank you so much <33 this means a lot to me, and i feel so loved i'm gonna cry. i love u all

NANAMI KENTO. your knight in shining armor. the moment you called out for him in a voice lacing with worry, he just knows what was up — you'd be fifteen minutes in your shower, and nanami is in the living room watching the television until you call out to him. voice loud, mixing in with the vivid sounds of water pouring.

"ken!"

he jolts up in surprise and walked towards the bathroom door, raising his hand to knock on the door a couple times, "are you alright, sweetheart?" he asks.

"come in, please," your voice was meek, and he could hear the shower turn off.

the male slowly opens the door, and he could feel the steam from your shower caressing his face lightly. you were there, still inside the shower with a nervous smile and a towel wrapping around you, "bug. kill. please?" was all you said.

"where is it, baby?"

you pointed at the sink, and there it was — the sacred and vile being, just sitting there beside the sink. though, it was so little nanami almost laugh, but seeing his partner being terrified; he was not going to make fun of them, he finds it adorable actually. and glad that the first thing you decided to do was call him for help.

nanami didn't even use a tissue, no hitting, no slapping, no squishing; he just grabs the bug in his grasp and tells you to have a nice shower and left.

your knight in shining armor.

GOJO SATORU. little bastard would definitely be all bark and no bite, he's all about that "oh, it's just a bug, baby. it's not like it's going to kill you" or "come on, baby, what's a bug going to do?"

until it flies. and he uses you as a shield.

"y/n kill that disgusting thing! holy fuck, i'm going to die." he cowered behind you, pointing at a little bug just resting on top of the kitchen counter — you rolled your eyes at him, not even having the energy to be as scared as him anymore.

"oh, it's just a bug, satoru. it's not like it's going to kill you," you mimicked his words sarcastically, and the male glares at you, wrapping his arms around you.

"it flies," he mumbled lowly, "bugs that can fly are disgusting. and don't quote my words on me, it hurts my pride," he kisses your shoulder, almost pouting.

"rock, paper, scissors? loser kills it," you asked him, raising your balled up fist with a smirk on your face.

he sighs, "bring it on, loser."

gojo lost. it took him half an hour and half a can of bug spray along with a mask to protect his handsome face from a possible bug attack, a pan lid to use as a shield, and a sandal (for protection) to get rid of the said bug.

SUKUNA RYOMEN. ignores you at first because you couldn't actually be serious? a human scared of a bug? just the mere thought of it makes him break out into laughter.

until he actually realizes it was that serious.

"brat, are you really not going to come out because there's a bug on the door?" he asks out in annoyance, standing in front of the door where you were on the other side of the open door, nodding with a lop-sided grin.

"come on, ryo. i hate bugs, 've always told you that," you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms.

"it's a bug. it won't do anything," sukuna mutters out.

"bug bites kill more people than shark attacks every year," you informed him, drumming your foot as your anxious eyes looked over to the bug as it moves slowly all over the surface of the door, "ryo, please. just squish it."

"why don't you squish it?"

"because i'm scared."

"well, ha ha. i'm scared too," he tells you with a proud smirk, crossing his arms. he finds joy in seeing you like this, really — he finds it laugh worthy, sukuna could do this all day.

"huh. the king of curses having a fear of bugs? how cute." you muttered out.

alright, that took him by surprise. the male stomps over to the door and got rid of the said bug almost immediately, "'m not scared, i was just kidding."

"i know, i said that so you could kill the bug for me," you walked out of the door, brushing past him with a big smile.

sukuna 00

y/n 01

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[starlightxsvt]

Sentinel's Serenade | c.sc

pairing ➳ bodyguard!Scoups x heiress!reader

genre ➳ drama, angst, romance, smut.

word count ➳ 29.5k (i'm sorry)

warnings ➳ car crash, ptsd, flashbacks of war, panic attack, murder, violence, guns, blood, death, fingering, unprotected sex, edging, female oral, arguments, coups is an a-hole but he has reasons, he was also in the military, Jun is a bad guy here(im sorry), jihoon blesses us with his special appearance.

synopsis ➳ As you start digging up an accident that has been brushed under the rug, you make an enemy who is out to get you no matter what. Amidst all the chaos you develop feelings for your bodyguard who has built walls of steel around him.

"This is your new bodyguard, Seungcheol." 

Your head tilts upward, as you scan the man standing in front of you with careful eyes. He's tall and broad; exactly how you'd imagine a bodyguard to be, along with an emptiness in his eyes, so cold and robotic that would only be achievable after being through some heavy shit, you assume. Your father continues listing off his certifications and qualities but your brain doesn't capture much after hearing that he can speak sign language and is an ex navy SEAL; too busy getting distracted with his handsome features and dissecting him as much as you can just from looking.

The man isn't handsome in the typical sense, definitely not the handsome you're used to seeing in magazine covers and charity galas. No, he's ruggedly handsome, shielding himself with a tough exterior, his thick brows knotted in a frown and his full, red lips set in a grim line, blond hair brushed back neatly. 

With the way he looks in that expensive suit hugging his body, he could pass as a business tycoon but his aura is completely different; alert, strict, impenetrable.

His hand reaches out for yours to meet in a handshake after your father is done introducing him. You watch his extended hand for a while, observing little scratches and cuts that seem to still be healing on his knuckles before meeting his hand. As expected, his palms are calloused but cool. His grip is firm, just like the look in his dark eyes and for some unknown reason tingles shoot down your spine.

"Choi Seungcheol, ma'am." His voice has a deep timbre to it. It'd be perfect for audiobooks, you muse idly.  "He is to be with you whenever you are going outside till the foreseeable future." Your father states. There isn't much room for arguments here and you aren't too bothered having a shadow because this isn't the first time. 

You had a personal bodyguard six months ago and the man sustained a serious hip injury due to...circumstances involving you. Now that you are back and ready to face the world, you know that keeping a personal bodyguard is a wise decision, even if your father may have assigned him with ulterior motives. 

It's okay, the games are just beginning and you are playing for the long haul.

—

"Met your new guard on the way. Guy's a robot." Chan says as he strolls into the library with his hands in his pockets. You assume he's talking about Seungcheol, who is currently stationed outside the library room even though you told him to take a break.

A copy of Jane Eyre sits open on your lap as you look up to meet Chan's eyes. Offering him a small smile, you motion him to sit next to you. Your younger brother had been out of the country due to business for the past few weeks so it has been a while since you last saw him.

"So you are really going back to work?" He asks, a soft, concerning note to his voice as he sits down next to you on the divan. You sigh and give him an exasperated look. 

"I'm more than ready. Sitting idle hasn't done me much good." You sign. 

His eyes watch the movements of your hands before he murmurs, "It will be tough, you know... without your... voice. I don't want you to get into any trouble, especially after everything."

"I'll manage." You sign. You will. 

It has been six long months since the accident. Six months since you lost your mother. Six months since you have last uttered a word. Six months since you have been at work.

Six months since your life has completely been turned upside down. 

You have been thrown entirely off track, the reigns of your horse being snatched away by a dark force plotting far worse things.  But you will uncover them. No matter how long or what it takes. 

"Dad thinks you're not ready yet," Chan comments, breaking your train of thought. 

You huff out an annoyed breath. 

"I don't really care what he thinks you know," you sign and your brother snorts, looking at you with a fond, amused expression. "It will be hard." He says absent-mindedly. "To adjust back to everything."

You nod because you know it will be. You have already heard the board members express their dissatisfaction over you returning as the CEO. Lee publishing has been in its prime since last year and they're afraid it's gonna lose its position with a mute CEO. Funny how they forget you are the one who brought it to where it is today. Lee Publishings, your family's publishing company was handed over to you by your  grandfather. He started it from scratch and it became the first successful family business before he decided to hand it over to you when you became twenty. 

Your bond with your grandfather was always special, maybe because you both shared the same love for books and sense of humour. You grew up watching him read and collect books and naturally you picked up on that habit. As you grew up you watched him work closely, helping him wherever you could with the company which led him to hand it over to you. 

Not your father, your brother or any of your cousins but you.

He was lucky enough to watch you take on the role and make the company flourish for all three months before he passed away peacefully one night in his sleep. 

The feud began after that as your uncle, Jin Lee and your father started expressing their concerns, saying that you wouldn't be able to rule over the company well now that your grandfather wasn't here to guide you. While your uncle wanted the publishing house for himself and his useless son, Jun, your father wanted to hand the company over to Chan, believing that your brother would be a better president, and offering you the role of the vice president instead. It came to you without any surprise because your brother was always your father's favourite child.

You, however, had stood your ground and promptly refused, challenging them to try and take it from you. Thankfully, your brother was on your side, saying that it rightfully belonged to you and you were more than eligible to rule over it. Chan's disinterest may have backed off your father temporarily, you can tell, but your uncle is still desperate, now more than ever.

"You are going to move back to your place soon as well," Chan complains with a pout, breaking your train of thought. Giving him a sad smile you open your arms, inviting him for a hug which he gladly accepts. After one week of staying at the hospital and your mother's burial, you decided that you would stay at the mansion you grew up in, essentially your father's house, instead of your own apartment in the city, for the foreseeable future. This mansion held a lot of memories for you, especially with your mother. Breakfast in the garden, late night talks in the huge library and sipping on tea while watching the sunset together through the large window in the west wing.

You could never imagine a life without your mother yet here you are, living one. But it is time you slowly start going back to where you belong.

"It will be lonely here without you…and mom," Chan whispers.

You can only blink back your tears and hug him tighter.

—

Just on your fifth day back, you realise that things are not going to be anywhere near easy for you, not that you expected, but still.

The moment you get to work on Wednesday morning, there is a commotion outside the main entrance of the building which leads your driver to drop you and Seungcheol at the underground entrance. You are greeted by the bleak face of your secretary as you walk to your office, who announces that the vice president is there to see you. Once you enter your office, you indeed find vice president Jun, your dear cousin, sitting on your seat with the face of a cat who ate the canary.

Seungcheol, who is always trailing behind you like a shadow, moves— to drag him out of your seat no doubt, but you raise your hand as a gesture to tell him to stop.

"Good morning, Miss Lee. Though it doesn't look like a good morning for you," He grins, standing up and rounding the desk lazily while tilting his chin at the coffee table where the morning paper is lying. You pick it up and in bold letters on the front page, the headline greets you with: "President of Lee Publishings Accused of Employee Mistreatment."

It goes on and on about some bullshit of how you have been treating employees badly and holding their salary because you have apparently returned with a nasty temper as you can't speak anymore. You can't help but scoff, because the reality is far, far from what the paper says. 

Ever since you've been back at work, all you've ever done is stay inside your office and go through all the pending documents and close deals that were hanging. Your only human contact has been your secretary Hansol and your bodyguard, both of whom have more similarities to a wall than a human. Your previously bubbly secretary has turned awkward now, probably because you have lost your voice and holding a conversation with you proves to be hard. Seungcheol, on the other hand, is like a robot who stands by your door all day and only answers your questions as briefly as possible, most of the time with a yes or no.

Your hands form fists at your sides as you glare at Jun, who stands there, pridefully evil, watching you with a satisfied grin on his face. "Things are looking rather bleak for you," He tuts in mock sympathy as he strolls towards you, hands in his pockets. As he comes to stand right next to you, his hand reaches out for your shoulder to pat you but Seungcheol grabs his wrist and twists it, making him shriek in pain. 

"Fuck! Let go, you asshole!"

"You do not have permission to touch her," Seungcheol calmly states, still not letting go. You sigh and sign Seungcheol to kick him out, which he does immediately while your cousin screams in protest as you walk to your desk and sit down, rubbing your temples in frustration.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Seungcheol asks after closing the door behind him.

You watch him for a while, your mind running a mile a minute as you think of a thousand ways of payback. But then you remind yourself that you have to approach this calmly.  So you force a smile and sign. 

"Send my secretary in. —

A couple of days later, you are not pleasantly surprised to see your father waiting to greet you at the front of the house when you return from work.

Just as Seungcheol opens the car door for you to get out, your father marches towards you.

"What did you do, girl? I told you to stay put! Your uncle Jin is here to see you!" His tone is not friendly. In fact, you pick up heavy disappointment, which you expected. This was bound to happen after you fired your cousin Jun from his position today. 

You smile calmly at him before turning to Seungcheol and signalling to him that he is relieved of his duties. He looks at you warily and you have a feeling he wants to say no but he ultimately just nods and takes his leave, driving away the car to park.

"He's waiting for you in the backyard." Your father announces. As you start walking away he yells, "You better fix what you have done today! The company won't last if you keep on making hasty decisions like these!"

Deciding to ignore him you walk to the backyard with unfaltering steps and find your uncle standing there with arms crossed, feet tapping furiously. You approach him with a smile, not a friendly one but the subtle smile of challenge as he takes furious steps towards you when he sees you coming.

"You! What have you done, _____? You fired my son from his position!" He hollers, marching to stand in front of you, fury blazing vividly in his eyes. 

Silently, you hold eye contact with him.

"You think you can do as you please after you get into an accident and we'll just let you? Who do you think you are to fire my son?"

You smirk before producing your notepad from your bag and start scribbling.

"I'm the president of the company and based on our investigation your son was found guilty of spreading fake news about me mistreating my employees. The reporter who got paid to write it confessed himself."

You hold out the notepad for him to read.

"How dare you believe a lowly reporter over my son? Over your own cousin?" Your uncle is livid. "If you keep behaving like this then I'll retract all my assets shared with your father. You know I can take over the Lee Enterprises anytime if I want."

You roll your eyes. Yeah, do whatever you want.

You start writing down. "If you have nothing productive to say I suggest you leave now and have a chat with your precious son. I have had a long day."

As soon as he reads the words written on the paper he bats the notebook away from your hand, making you gasp. The look in his eyes is akin to a madman's as he takes a threatening step towards you and leans in to whisper in your ear. 

"If you don't want to end up like your mother I suggest you start behaving, ______." He sneers.

Your whole body freezes up like a block of ice as your breath catches in your lungs. Your uncle's eyes are cruel, threating, filled with a layer of secrets that you're desperate to uncover as he takes a step back. The look of panic on your face brings satisfaction to him as watches you for a few moments, letting his words sink in and challenging you to do something about it before he smirks and walks out of the backyard.

Your legs, which have been shaky until now finally give up and you fall on the perfectly trimmed grass, your breaths coming out in the form of pants. 

The horrible realisation sinks into you. 

Your suspicions were true. 

His words just confirmed that which means you need to up your game. Immediately.

You're surprised at how quickly, how easily you think of one person when you need someone to help you. 

Hands shaky, you type a message to Seungcheol.

— There's something different about Seungcheol the moment he arrives at your front gate in his BMW. As you watch him get out of the car and jog towards you, you realise it's his fit; he's not wearing his typical two piece suit. 

No, he's dressed in a fitted white polo and black slacks, the polo so tight that you can see the bulging outline of his chest and arms. Despite the negative thoughts brewing in your head you get distracted for a second as you ogle him unashamedly and take longer than you should to respond to his question. "Are you alright, ma'am? I wasn't expecting you to call so late."

You roll your eyes. It's only like eight in the evening. Though you can see why it was unexpected for him because he is relieved from duty as you get off work in the evening. Not replying to him, you tilt your head towards his car, indicating to him to open the passenger side door. He looks doubtful for a second before following your instructions.

"Where would you like me to take you?" Seungcheol asks once you're both inside the car and he has started the engine. You sigh and sign, "Somewhere far and quiet."

His thick brows knot into a frown as he thinks for a few seconds before simply nodding. Then, surprising you, he reaches over and pulls your seatbelt across your chest, which you just realised you forgot to put on. His being so close lets you get a really good sniff of his cologne and once again you get heavily distracted as you start wondering what he'd do if you leaned into his neck and wrapped your arms around him.

Where are these thoughts coming from? 

You have no idea. This is not the first time you've had them, though.

It is like this new disease you have caught. Your mind goes haywire whenever you look at Seungcheol for a second too long. The first time it happened was right after the rumour of employee mistreatment broke out and you were leaving from work. Even though you took the back exit through the underground parking, the press mobbed you, throwing a string of questions at you while their cameras kept flashing repeatedly.

Seungcheol, of course, managed everything very efficiently and got you away safely. The way his hand squeezed your shoulder, his face hovering near yours while he asked if you were okay was a feeling that has managed to stay with you very vividly even now. You were a bit spaced out but not for the reasons he was thinking; it was just that he looked too attractive and his touch felt too comforting, even though he was merely doing his job.

You are a tiny bit ashamed to admit that he has made your heart flutter since then, with every little thing he did. 

You don't get to dwell on your day dreams for too long because he's leaning back in his seat and pressing the accelerator, making you jerk softly.

A quiet thirty minutes of drive later you discover that Seungcheol has taken you to the beach right on the outskirts of the city. It isn't something you were expecting but you realise it is something you definitely need. 

As he parks the car on a small cliff overlooking the entire beach, you hear the soothing sounds of the wave crashing into the shore clearly. 

And it brings back vague memories of your childhood, when your mother took you to this beach because she loved the air here so much. As if in a trance, you get out of the car and stand by the cliff, letting the cool sea breeze wash over you as the salty smell in the air invades your nose. Your bodyguard stands by you silently for a while and without looking, you can tell that his eyes are on you, watching you carefully.

Sometime later, he breaks the peaceful silence, "Would like to eat something? There are a few food trucks nearby." He moves his head to motion at the food trucks parked far away, their lights blinking. Shaking your head no, you fill your lungs with the cool night air by taking one more deep breath before moving to the back of the car and leaning against the trunk. Seungcheol follows you as you pat the space next to you for him to come and stand. 

He does so and you let out a heavy breath before signing. "I need you to do something for me. Something that has to remain a secret."

Seungcheol raises his brows slightly before frowning. He doesn't reply immediately and you stand upright, holding eye contact with him. "It is very important to me, Seungcheol. I need to know if I can trust you to keep it a secret from everyone," you sign.

"Okay, ma'am." He finally responds. 

"Even from my father," you sign. "I know you're working for him but for this task, I will pay you separately so you will only answer to me about this, okay?"

"Okay ma'am."

"Good." You huff out a breath. "You are from a prominent security company, right? I need you to look into a man for me. Jin Lee."

"Your uncle?" He looks bewildered. "Yes. I need his whereabouts on 23rd March of this year. And I need to know who he contacted before this accident. Any call or bank transfer that seems remotely out of place, you look into it for me, okay?" He pauses for a breath before replying. "Okay, ma'am."

"Just call me ____, Seungcheol."

— On the weekend, you have lunch with Chan in the garden of the mansion, the place where you two had lunch with your mother, as he eagerly asks you about how you have been doing and assures you that he is here if you need anything. After lunch, you see him off for a meeting before aimlessly strolling through the hallways of your house by yourself.

The cleanup at your place has been completed so you are planning on moving back tomorrow and you realise it will be a while before you come back here. Through your walk, you come across a painting hanging on the large hallway towards your father's office that makes you stop to stare. 

It is a picture of your mother with you and Chan, taken when you were about twelve years old. It is your favourite picture in the entire house, maybe because you have a memory attached to it or maybe because it's simply magnificent, the three of your smiles shining so brightly.

It was a gift from your grandfather to your mother on her thirty seventh birthday and she had it hung here, right in front of a large set of windows that overlooks the garden. The afternoon sun falls right on the picture, casting it in an ethereal glow and it is almost like your mom is here, cheering you on with her beautiful smile.

With a soft sigh and tears withheld, you say goodbye to the picture and walk away. You are aiming to go straight to your room but the loud voices coming from your father's office makes you stop.

You realise the door is just slightly opened and you walk over to shut it but stop in your tracks when you hear your uncle's voice.

"You better get your daughter under control or it will not be good for you!" He is shouting.

"Are you threatening me?"

"I am warning you, brother."

"Jin, please, just let her be for a while. She has lost her voice. I am sure she will not be able to perform like before. Then you and the board can fire her."

You are somewhat hurt by your father's words but once again, they do not come to you as a surprise. "Exactly! Why should I let the company go to waste because of her poor performance? You tell her to fuck off or I will remove her myself!"

"Jin, please. You already got rid of Aileen. You do not have to go any further.

Your world has come to a stop.

You forget to breath, as you simply stand there, stunned, convinced that you heard wrong.

You had to have heard wrong.

"I got rid of her and I'll get rid of you too, if you don't listen to me! Don't forget I own the shares of the family hotel just as much as you do. It will not be a challenge to turn the board of directors against you. Imagine what will happen after that? Your most lucrative business will be completely mine and your dear son will become penniless."

There is no reply from your father. Or maybe there is but you do not hear it.

There is a deafening ring in yours ears as you muffle your sobs by clutching your mouth tightly and making a beeline for your room.

You cannot believe this. You absolutely can not. It is something you could not have imagined even in your wildest nightmare. Your father knows your uncle killed your mom, yet he is staying silent. Why? Why!

Granted, your parents were never happily married and growing up you have heard that your father has mistresses. It never bothered your mother because their marriage was only a business agreement in the very first place and she had all her attention focused on you and Chan. But to think that he is letting her killer walk free is unbelievable.

After all he lived with her, his wife, the mother of his children for so many goddamn years!

By the time you have entered your room, you are full on crying, ugly and loud. Tears are blurring your vision as you flail around the room, helplessly, aimlessly, devastatedly. 

And before you know it, you are throwing the thousand dollar porcelain vase by your bedside to the ground.

The piece shatters into bits and the sound oddly satisfies you, prompting you to throw another one. And for the next few minutes you throw anything you can find in your room, not caring how valuable they are, not caring that a shard of glass has ripped the skin below your left thumb, making you bleed.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck you! Fuck all of you!" You yell at the top of your lungs, not caring to keep up the facade anymore.

Once you have run out of energy, you stop to look at the mess you made, glad that the messy room and the pain from the cut on your hand makes your mind go blank for a while.

But you do not miss the small, almost inaudible creak of the door to your room. Your head whips into the direction to see none other than Seungcheol, standing right out front, his eyes wide and his lips parted in a small gasp of surprise. 

You forget to breathe as you realise he might have been standing there for a while and he witnessed everything. 

Everything.

He knows your secret.  He knows that you are not mute. Before you know it, your feet are moving as you push open the door and yank your bodyguard into your room, not before glancing left and right down the hallway to check anyone's presence.

As soon as you lock the door, you press him against it and lean on your tiptoes, inching your face closer to him as you whisper, "Keep. This. A. Secret."

You had meant for the words to come out threatening but your tear stained eyes and cracking voice doesn't help establish that image.

Seungcheol stares at you with a gaze you are quite unable to decipher. His eyes are soft, full of wonder and you think you can almost spot admiration and something more in them and for a moment, you find yourself lost in the sea of his gaze. 

"______". He calls your name softly. His hands come to your upper arms to hold you gently as he puts some distance between the two of you before ushering you towards your bed and making you sit down. "Your secret is safe with me," he confirms as he sits next to you. "But I am glad you can speak again." He murmurs, giving your shoulder a soft squeeze as he looks around the room you just trashed.

You let out half a sigh of relief, knowing that your secret is safe and you find yourself speaking before you can even think. "I got my voice back quite a while ago. Two months after the accident, actually." Seungcheol's head whips towards you, his eyes widening in surprise.

"My uncle seemed very happy when I lost my voice and he was being weirdly nice to me. I already had my suspicions that the accident was an inside job so I pretended to act mute." You whisper, eyes trained on the floor.

How right you were!

It was an inside job but it had its roots spread out much farther than you thought. Your uncle killed your mother while your father sits there in silence despite knowing that!

The thought makes you shake your head as a dry, mirthless laughter wrings out of your throat. Your head falls back as you laugh like a mad woman as Seungcheol watches you, absolutely perplexed.

He gently tries calling your name. "______—"

"My father knew!" You are yelling between laughter. "He fucking knew!"

The poor man only looks more confused.

"He knew— he… he knows my uncle killed my mom but he is staying silent! He said it himself! I heard him! Do you understand, Seungcheol, my father is turning a blind eye! He is choosing to save his fucking business over me, over his children!"

Seungcheol looks absolutely baffled upon hearing your words as he falls silent with a bleak expression. He does not have the adequate words to respond to that and he simply does not know what he can do at this point to make you feel better.  However, he takes notice of the cut below your thumb and reaches for your hand, setting it down on his thigh while he takes out a handkerchief and gently ties it around the injury. "You hurt yourself," he states quietly, almost to himself before meeting your eyes. "I know what you heard was painful but you need to take care of yourself. For your mother, at least."

And the damn breaks.

You break into a full on sob as you wrap your hands around his large shoulders, molding yourself against him as you cry unceremoniously in his chest. Seungcheol's arms wrap around your body in an effortless blanket of security as he rests his chin on top of your head and strokes your head while you try to burrow yourself deeper into his chest. 

It takes a while for the messy array of tears to subside and once you have calmed down a little, you take notice of his white shirt which is now completely wet where you rested your face. "I'm sorry," you croak weakly, trying to pull away but he holds you by the arms and makes you face him by tilting your chin with his finger.

"There is nothing to be sorry for, okay? Now tell me what I can do to make this a little better. Just so you know, my team is almost done digging up about your uncle. We should have a solid update tomorrow."

A small sob of gratitude and relief escapes your throat and Seungcheol immediately shushes you, his eyes helplessly searching for yours. "C-can you please ask them to look into my dad as well," you hiccup, saying the words you never imagined would come out of your mouth. "I need to know his whereabouts before the accident."

Seungcheol assures you with a nod while his hand strokes your back soothingly. Exhaling a loud, defeated sigh, you wipe your tears and mutter. "Please help me pack my bags, Seungcheol. I am moving back to my place. Tonight. I cannot stay here a second longer."

The man looks like he wants to protest but goes against it and simply nods, getting up to retrieve your bags from your closet.

After hastily packing your belongings you waste no time to march out of the house with Seungcheol trailing behind you. You leave a note on the kitchen, simply saying something came up and you had to leave early.

You are extremely grateful that you do not come across your father because one look at him and the ticking time bomb inside you would explode and you definitely cause a scene.

As the night grows deeper slowly, you isolate yourself in your room once you come back to your apartment. Despite Seungcheol's insistence, you tell him to call it a day and lock yourself up in your room, throwing yourself a pity party. It has been a while since you had such a restless night— the last one being after the accident, and it takes a long long time for sleep to come.

When your eyes finally fall shut, hues of orange and blue have already grazed the sky. 

—

You do not feel like your best self in the morning but the news Seungcheol brings is enough to get you back on track. 

The manila file sitting on your desk is a gold mine, it's contents spread throughout the surface as you sit in silence, hands linked together under your chin, your brain finally connecting the pieces together.

Seungcheol's friends found a shady bank transfer made by your uncle, two weeks before the accident. The tip led them to an old gang who, after applying some tactics, admitted to taking money from Jin Lee in order to commit a hit and run. After digging around some more they found papers that now lie on your table, a clear proof of your uncle's deal with the gang, which they kept as insurance. Among the documents, one particularly catches your eye.

It is the information of the driver of the truck that hit your car. 

The picture is like a jolt of electricity through your system as you are immediately taken back to the scene of the crash, the moments after where you were hovering over the brink of consciousness. You remember seeing a man peeking into your wrecked car, a man with a scar on his left cheek and all this time you could not fully believe that to be real.

But it was.  You did not imagine it. The picture on the document is that of the driver you saw that morning, the man with a scar on his left cheek, his eyes dark and blank, his lips twisted in a line of malice.

"_____?" Seungcheol's gentle voice guides you out of your head. "My friend had his confession recorded. Would you like to hear it?"

"Of course."

"I need to warn you…it is pretty detailed. About the accident, you know." He looks guilty, even though he has no reason to be.

You swallow a lump in your throat as your heart beat picks up. Are you really ready to revisit that morning? Relive all those feelings?

You have to.

Seungcheol pushes a voice recorder towards you on the table, pressing a button to turn it on.

"I was told that there would be only a girl and her bodyguard in the car! I swear I didn't know her mother would be there as well! I did not mean to kill the woman! After I hit the car, I went to check and…and the older woman was dead! The girl looked barely alive and I didn't think she would survive…."

There is a buzzing sound in your ears. It is deafening.

You are transported to a void where these words keep repeating and repeating, pulling you down, sucking you deeper into a pit of despair.  It hurts so much you are sure death would be easier.

Your head hangs low, silent tears trailing down your cheek as you stare at your lap. Seungcheol calls your name multiple times, asking if you are okay but you cannot bring yourself to form a reply.

The pain, the guilt, the shame, the anger— everything is overwhelming. These feelings consume you whole and dry you out until you are left with an unbelievable urge to scream and holler and cry. 

"______, please, can you hear me?" Seungcheol's touch on your shoulder makes you jolt. You look up to find him standing next to you, eyes glazed with concern as he peers down at you.

"I am fine," you reply after taking a shaky breath.

"Are you sure? Maybe you should call it day—"

"Seungcheol?" You interrupt him. You wipe the tears clean and sit up straight. "Can you call my lawyer? I need him here as soon as possible."

—

Bad news awaits you the next day when you return home from work. 

As usual Seungcheol walks you to the door of your apartment but you realise something is up when he abruptly stops after stepping out of the elevator and turning towards the door to your place. Following his line of sight you realise he has taken notice of the slightly open front door to your house. 

Your heart drops as a small gasp leaves your lips.

Someone broke into your place. And it does not take a genius to guess who Plus it also confirms that your uncle has found out you have been snooping around. A calm man like him does not make a move unless things are really dire and this proves that he is desperate to get that evidence out of your hands.

Seungcheol tenses up beside you and uses a hand to push you behind his body in a protective manner as he steps closer to the door. With the other hand he pulls out his revolver, holding it out and pointing it straight.

"S-Seungcheol—" You start panicking.

He shushes you before you can say much, eyes trained forward as he takes measured steps. Swallowing the bubble of fear, you hold his back as you follow him into your apartment. 

The storeroom which is right on the left after entering is the first place Seungcheol checks, and when he finds it clear he pushes you inside haphazardly.

"Don't come out until I get you." He commands, shutting the door on your face and clicking the lock before you can even process anything. Baffled, you stand still inside the dimly lit room, carefully listening for any sounds, while a thousand different thoughts run through your head.  This building is one of the most secure residential buildings in the city and breaking in here is quite literally impossible. Which means it is clear your uncle bribed someone on the inside and the realisation of how scary things are getting dawns on you, making you chew nervously on your lower lip as you start to grow restless.

Thankfully, a quick while later Seungcheol opens the door, a wary look on his face and you can immediately tell something is wrong. As soon as the door opens, you push past him and head for your bedroom, only to find the place absolutely trashed. Everything is a mess; from your bed to your closet to your dresser and it is evident that someone took their sweet time to comb through every one of your possessions and as you take in the havoc, the last of your doubts go away.

They were undoubtedly looking for the documents and the recorder. 

Your hands fist at your sides as tears of anger and frustration gather at the corners of your eyes. It only amplifies when you see one of your most precious belongings lying face down on the floor— a picture of you and your mother taken on your eighteenth birthday. 

Immediately you kneel and pick the frame up only to find it broken, making you heave out a helpless cry of anger. As you clutch it to your chest, your eyes scan the mess around you and a sense of doom settles in your gut. So this is what your life has come to now.

"Come. You're not staying here." Seungcheol's quiet command disrupts your thoughts.

"W-what? What do you mean? Where am I gonna go?" You scramble to stand up.

"At my place. This place isn't safe, _____." He pins you down with a serious look. "Pack your essentials and I mean absolute essentials. Your passport and any important papers."

"Wait, I—"

"Now." He commands. "I am gonna make some calls to find out who did this. Be ready in ten." He is walking out of the room while dialling a number, leaving you flabbergasted.

A while later you sit on the passenger's seat next to Seungcheol as he pulls the car out of your underground parking and onto the busy street, eyes focused on the road in silence. The only sound surrounding you is the sound of the bustling city and it isn't enough to ease the thick tension in the car. Seungcheol's jaw is clenched and his lips are pressed into a thin line as you observe him while he stares straight ahead. "What do we do after going to your place? I can't just hide forever." You break the silence with your words, your eyes trained out the window. It looks like it's going to rain.

"You'll stay in my place until the threat is removed. I'll soon receive the CCTV footage and from there on we can track down who ordered to invade your home." He declares.

"It was my uncle." You say without much thought.

Seungcheol turns to look at you for a beat before focusing on the road again. "You sound sure." He murmurs.

"Who else would it be then? He is after the evidence." You reply. Seungcheol remains silent for a beat before agreeing with a hum. Another silence follows after that. You take occasional, shy glances at him while he drives and when the car stops at a red light in an intersection, you call for him, making him turn his head to look at you. "Seungcheol?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you. For today."

He stares at you quietly, not blinking. "I just did my job."

"No, you are doing a lot more. You are helping me out in so many ways and I can only keep myself together thanks to you."

He only stares more at you. His gaze is intense and his eyes are hypnotic; if you stare too long it unnerves you, dissects you open. "You will be fine, _____." He replies after a long pause. "With or without me."

His words trigger you. 

With or without me?

You want to yell that he has to stick around however long you want him to but his cold demeanour makes your thoughts appear silly, even to yourself.  You are clearly looking for something more, much more than he wants to give you.  You know he would probably burn the world for you, not because he loves you but because he is a loyal person and probably because he pities you. 

Just a little bit. And you accept that. — Seungcheol's place is a canvas of grey and black and white. It is minimalistic and clean, a one bedroom apartment on the tenth floor in a quieter part of the city. As he walks you through his humble abode, he gives directions on where everything is and finally opens the door to his bedroom, leading you in before announcing. "You take the bed. I'll sleep on the sofa."

You do not protest because you know he would never listen. Instead, you almost ask him to share the bed with you but prevent going with it because you cannot trust yourself to remain professional while he sleeps so close to you with that tempting body of his.

"I'll leave you to rest. I'm going for a grocery run. Do not open the door for anyone but me. If there is any problem, call me." He uses his no nonsense tone and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. 

"Okay, okay." You watch him leave before shutting the bedroom door and sitting down on the floor, letting out a deep breath, one you've been unconsciously holding for a while.

As you watch the orange sky from the large window of Seungcheol's bedroom, the events of the last forty eight hours wash over you. You can't help but admire yourself at how calm you are. You woke up feeling numb today and you've been functioning on autopilot the whole day. Seeing your place ransacked did evoke some emotion within you but then again, deep down you were expecting something like this to happen once you had the evidence. 

You're running on pure adrenaline and you know you cannot stop until you have put your dear uncle behind bars. 

And maybe, even your father. 

He's an accomplice, no? He knows very well who killed his wife yet he decides to keep quiet, which makes him more vile to you. You find more hatred towards your father brimming within you, than towards your uncle. Yes, you expected him to play unfair but your own father knowing the culprit of your mother's death and simply burying it under the rug?  That, you absolutely cannot tolerate. 

A number of different scenarios run through your head on how you can bring them down. Despite having this irresistible urge to just run to the police with the recorder, you remember your lawyer's words.

It won't be enough. 

A few documents and a tape of confession are not enough to bring a man like Jin down. He has very strong connections with law enforcement and an even stronger set of lawyers. You need a solid witness. You need to catch him red handed. You need to create a scandal he can't recover from. You need to gather more proof. Proof so irrefutable, that his entire empire comes crashing down. 

And good for you, your uncle has already started setting up his doom. Trashing your place was his first mistake, the first piece of the domino. Now, it is a matter of time until everything collapses. You pray he will keep on making more mistakes. 

In fact, you know he will. He will do anything to get his hands on the evidence and you will stack all his actions against him at court. And when the time comes for the nail to hit the head…

You're going to be the bait. —

Somewhere in the middle of the night, you wake up from your sleep. Falling asleep came to you easily after eating the dinner Seungcheol cooked and then curling up in his bed where the sheets smelled subtly like him. It led you to have the best sleep you had in a while but now that you are awake, there is an itch in your throat, making it dry. 

So, quietly, you get up from bed and walk to the kitchen, a small light in the hallway guiding you to find a glass and pour yourself some water. 

As you sit on one of the breakfast stools and gulp it down, you watch Seungcheol sleeping on the sofa. The blanket that was probably on top of him once has fallen on the floor, the small space clearly not sufficient for his large frame as almost half of his body hangs out of the sofa. You almost feel bad for him and wonder how he can sleep in such a tiny space but it is pointless to feel guilty. He would never take the bed, no matter how much you offered.

As you take the last few sips of your water, you catch the moonlight draping over half of his face, casting it in an ethereal glow. It's stunning how beautiful he is. His usual stoic face is now relaxed, his full brows not knotted in a frown, his long eyelashes resting against his cheek, his plump full lips parted just a tiny bit. 

Unashamedly, for the nth time, you find yourself wondering how it'd be like to kiss him. You can't remember the last time a man made you feel like this, if ever. Your relationship with him should be strictly professional yet as you spend more time with him your mind keeps on entering forbidden territories.  Which is sad because you know he feels nowhere near that for you. Maybe he even has a girlfriend, or a wife— though you see no ring in his finger. Maybe a divorced wife with whom he parted ways begrudgingly, someone who still haunts his dreams. 

As you conjure up various scenarios of his relationship status, Seungcheol stirs in his sleep before a quiet groan escapes his lips.

You crane your head to take a better look at him, to see if he's awake but you soon realise he isn't as another pained groan leaves his lips, his large body shuffling in the congested space.

Is he having a nightmare?

You immediately get up and dash towards him, turning a light on the way and kneeling right beside the sofa. There's a light sheen of sweat coating his face and his eyebrows are marred in a frown as his eyes remain squeezed shut, his body writhing desperately "Seungcheol? Seungcheol!" You yell, grabbing his shoulders and trying your best to shake him out of whatever that's haunting him.

"No! No! Please, no!" The pain and helplessness in his voice halts your breath as you continue to shake him awake while his hands come to grab your arms in a tight hold, almost like an anchor. His grip only grows stronger as he yells in protest and you try your very best to wake him up once more. "Seungcheol! Please! Wake up! It's a nightmare!"

A set of blown out pupils look at you the next moment, and in a moment of silence a small shaky breath leaving his lips before they part slightly in shock. Then, before you know it, you are falling on your ass as Seungcheol shoves you away and scrambles to the farthest corner of the sofa. 

Even though your ass hurts, you know it was an unintended reaction. You whisper in a voice so soft as if you're talking to a wounded animal, "Seungcheol, it's okay. You're safe. You were having a nightmare."

The man sits still, hugging his knees as he still tries to catch his breath, a horrified look on his face. Not being able to bear it anymore, you immediately move to him and even though he flinches and tries to move away at first, he gives in when you wrap your arms around his shoulders. 

Soon he's burying his face on your neck as his large body curls around you, his hands gripping your night shirt tightly as if he's trying to mould himself into you. You feel his harsh pants on your shoulder so you try your best to soothe him, rubbing his back in repeated motions while whispering words of solace.

"It's alright, Seungcheol. I'm here. I have got you. It was just a bad dream."

You don't know how long you hold him like that but it seems to be a while, which feels too soon to you because Seungcheol pulls away from your arms before scooting away, putting a little distance between the two of you. He doesn't meet your eyes as he sighs, annoyed and dejected, while rubbing his temples.  "Are you okay? Would you like some water?" You offer. He shakes his head, looking down, his usual stoic mask settling back onto his face. 

"Why are you up?" He asks, his tone somewhat snappy. You frown. "I got out of bed to get a glass of water. You were having a nightmare, Seungcheol. Are you sure—"

"It's fine. It happens."

You are stunned at his lack of care. Is this a daily occurrence? Does he wake up every night, alone and screaming from his nightmares? Why is he allowing this to happen? Does he have someone to talk to? You want to ask all these questions but then decide against it due to the situation. Instead, you shuffle a little closer to him and start fixing his messy hair with a soft touch.

Seungcheol completely freezes at first and you expect him to bat your hand away but he doesn't. So you bite your lip to hide your smile as you finish fixing his hair before wiping the sweat off his brow. 

But you don't get to go far with that because Seungcheol grabs your wrist in a gentle hold, stopping you. His eyes scan over the length of your arms before he meets your eye. "Are you okay? I hurt you, didn't I?"

You simply shake your head and offer him a small smile which doesn't seem to convince him. His brows frown once again as you see him start overthinking so you put a stop to them. "I'm fine, Seungcheol, really. If you should be worried about anything, it is yourself. You're not on duty right now, you know. You can relax. I'm not a priority now." His eyes bore into yours and for a moment you see something foreign in his eyes. Something akin to vulnerability, longing, maybe even desperation.

"Go back to sleep, ____." His voice is gruff. "You've had a long day."

You want to protest but decided not to as huff out a breath and cast one more longing glance at him, hoping that maybe he would change his mind, before retreating to your room.

— It's ten o'clock when you wake up. 

Your first thought is that you are late for work, which makes you sit right up, ready to bolt out of bed but the next moment you realise it's a Saturday.  And you are not at home. You are at Seungcheol's place.

So you take your sweet time leaving the bed and freshening up, shuffling through Seungcheol's products in the bathroom. You also sneak in a sniff of his aftershave and cologne, smiling at yourself at your perverseness.

When you step out of your room, you find Seungcheol sitting on one of the breakfast stools, going through some documents with rapt attention. You stand by your door frame for a while, admiring his built frame from behind, his large back muscles and shoulders stretched beneath a white tee but you don't get to stare at him too long because his head turns around and catches you in the act.

"Good morning, _____." He greets.

You clear your throat, shuffling to the kitchen counter and pour yourself a glass of water, pretending as if he didn't just catch you eye fucking him. "Good morning, Seungcheol." Your voice is soft.

"Would you like to have breakfast now? I can make you some toast and omelette." He kindly offers. "There's also cereal if you want."

"I think I'll go with the cereal," You murmur, taking a seat opposite to him. You haven't had much of an appetite for the past few days which isn't really a surprise considering the situation.  Seungcheol goes back to scanning the documents in front of him while you sit in silence, sipping your water. You wonder wether you should bring up last night, maybe ask him if he's okay now but you have a suspicion it won't be received well by him. As you chew on your lip and debate the idea, Seungcheol looks up to meet your eyes, his face ever so serious.

"You have to take a break from work for a few days." He announces.

"What? Why?"

Probably for the first time, you see him hesitate which stresses you out. "What's wrong, Seungcheol? Tell me."

"You have received a few death threats, _____. I found them in your mail. For the time being, you need to lay low, appearing in public puts you at risk. In fact, we're leaving for a safe house today."

"Wait- what?" Your brain is trying hard to catch up. "Safe house? What are you talking about? I'm not safe here?"

"They know your address, _____. It won't take them long to get mine. I need to get you to an untraceable place."

You don't know what to feel or even how to react. You're at a loss as you try to figure out your next move. "What do those threats say exactly? Can I see them?"

Seungcheol's face hardens. "No. They're not pretty to look at." His voice brings shivers down your spine as a wave of nausea hits you. You had no idea your uncle could stoop so low. But then again, he's a murderer so you shouldn't have underestimated him. 

Seungcheol must have seen your face pale because he calls your name firmly, grounding your attention to him. "You are safe with me, _____. You just have to trust me, okay?" You find comfort in his eyes so you find yourself nodding immediately which satisfies him. "Get ready. We'll leave in two hours."

"Where are we going?"

"Don't worry about that."

"Does my father know?"

"About the death threats? Yes. He didn't seem too concerned about it though. Said it might be a prank."

Somehow, you're not surprised.

"But not about moving you to a safe location," Seungcheol adds. "No one needs to know about that. It's safer that way."

"Even my brother?"

"Yes. I suggest you call him and tell him you'll be out of reach for a while."

You deflate at that. Chan is going to be worried. And how on earth are you going to explain everything to him when all of this eventually unveils?

Seungcheol gets up, gathering all the papers and just as he turns to leave, he stops. "Oh, and ____? Don't come near me when I'm having a nightmare next time."

What?

"But Seungcheol—"

"For your own safety, _____. Don't. This is not a request." He doesn't wait for your reply but marches away as you silently watch his retreating form, lips pursed in annoyance.

The little appetite you had for breakfast is ruined as you go back to your room, cursing his stubbornness. As you pick up your phone to check for any important messages, a text from your dear father greets you. Your bodyguard told me you received death threats. Maybe it is better for you to stay at home and not work. For your own good, you should seriously consider giving your position to someone else. His flagrant attitude makes your blood boil as you fist your hands around your phone in a death grip before tossing it onto the bed in a fit of rage.

This day has not started off well.

— Two hours later you are well on your way to the safe house with a bag packed containing your absolute necessities. Your bodyguard has confiscated your real phone and gave you a burner instead just to be cautious.

Seungcheol, as always, drives the car in silence, the features of his face set to a grim expression. The air is thick with tension and you debate putting the radio on but even doing that feels too awkward.

"How long is the drive?" You finally ask, desperate to lessen this weird tension.

"We're taking a train from the station."

"Wait, what?"

"It is quite far. Driving there is going to take way too long." He calmly replies, eyes focused on the road. Sighing, you lean back and rest your head against the headrest. You let your eyes wander outside the window, watching the people, the view passing by while your mind runs rampant with all kinds of thoughts; anxious, restless.

A while later, you take notice of something in the rearview mirror and finally voice out the concern that has been bugging you for a while. "Seungcheol?" There's a touch of panic in your voice.

"Yes?"

"See that black Mercedes? It has been following us for a while…I think." You stare eagerly at Seungcheol waiting for his reply, waiting to be told that you are wrong but instead, a small, amused smile graces his lips.

"So you noticed, huh?"

It feels like your heart is going to drop out of your ass.

"What do we do?" You whisper, sitting up straight and craning your head back to take a proper look at the car. Sure enough, the SUV is right behind you, not even trying to be discreet anymore.

Fuck this crap, seriously.

"Trust me, I have got a plan. You just need to do as I tell you, okay?" He assures, his voice composed unlike yours.

"O-okay."

He turns to face you for a beat, giving you a reassuring look before continuing to drive in silence for a couple more minutes while the Mercedes stays on your tail. "Hold tight. I'm going to speed up. There's a parking lot about a mile from here. We're going to stop there."

"WHAT!"

You don't get your reply because the next second, the car is zooming forward as Seungcheol steps on the accelerator. You are gripping the dashboard and your seatbelt with your dear life as Seungcheol speeds through the lane like a madman, swerving every now and then. The Mercedes chasing you has a hard time keeping up with Seungcheol's viciously smooth driving because in a moment's time you are in the parking lot where Seungcheol parks the car in the corner farthest from the entry.

"Listen to me very carefully, ____." Seungcheol says as he turns the engine off and removes his seatbelt. "Crawl to the back and lay low, okay? No matter what happens, what you see, you do not make a move until I come get you, do you hear me?"

Your throat feels like sandpaper as you whisper. "Y-yes. Yes I do."

"Good." He squeezes your hand. "Now crawl into the back."

You do as you are told, moving into the backseat and crouching down as Seungcheol exits the car before locking it. You peek through the tinted window, watching with bated breath as the black SUV pulls up and two bald headed men exit the vehicle which parks right by the entry. They walk to Seungcheol, their stances predatory as they talk about something you cannot hear.

Next thing you know, one of the men is throwing an uppercut towards Seungcheol which fails to land because your bodyguard steps back, avoiding it easily.

Then, a full on fight ensues as the two men attack Seungcheol unsparingly. Seungcheol does not fail to keep up as he easily avoids them and counterattacks. Very soon, he is landing a kick on one of the men that throws him down to the ground with a harsh blow before grabbing the other guy and holding him in a chokehold. Soon, his body slumps to the ground.

Is he dead?

The other guy, meanwhile, recovers and charges for Seungcheol and you notice a bit too late that he has a knife because he manages to land a slash on Seungcheol's chest, making him stumble back. "Seungcheol!" Your hand unconsciously reaches for the door handle, tugging it to get out and help him. Alas, you can't do that. Fortunately, though, Seungcheol seems to not require any help as in the very next moment Seungcheol attacks the man, snatches the knife from him and bashes his head against the trunk of a car once, twice, thrice, making him fall into the ground, unconscious.

The breath you were holding finally escapes your lungs. Seungcheol dashes to the car the next moment, opening the back door and dragging you out by the arm before you can even say something.

"Come on. We don't have time."

"Wait, where are we going?" 

"There's a five minute shortcut to the station from here," he says, leading you by holding your hand as his legs pick up speed. "We have to run because they are expecting us to move by car. Come on!"

And so, you let him guide the way, his hand holding yours tightly, as you take the underground exit of the lot. You run for your life, your legs going sore but you manage to keep going just because of the adrenaline.  Soon enough, the station comes into view and Seungcheol picks up speed as the whistle of the train echoes through the air, informing its departure.

"Oh crap, we're not gonna make it!" You yell. "We will. Just keep running," Seungcheol hollers back as you both run parallel to the train that is slowly picking up speed. Suddenly Seungcheol lets go of your hand which throws you into a moment of panic but you keep running as you start to guess his plan.

You watch as he bolts for the entrance of the last carriage and in the blink of an eye, jumps inside.

"Holy shit." You curse. The next moment, he turns around and leans out the door, holding out one of his hands for you to grab onto while the other grips the handle by the door.  "Come on! Grab my hand!"

Your legs are so tired they feel shaky, ready to collapse any moment. Still, you run with all your might, holding out your hand, reaching for his. 

"Just a little bit! You can do it!" He encourages as the rhythm of the wheels intensifies, letting you know you do not have much time.

Oh shit.

Grunting in frustration, you put all the bridling remnants of your energy and dart forward which seems to be just enough, as your hand touches Seungcheol's. The next moment he grabs onto your hand and in the blink of an eye he is tugging your full weight and pulling you inside the carriage.

Upon entering, you collapse on the floor, panting loudly as Seungcheol lets go of your hand and cranes his neck out the door as if looking for something. Even though you are wheezing for air, you follow his line of sight and see two men running after the train as if they were chasing you. By now the train is moving at full speed, crossing the end of the platform, making them slow down and watch helplessly. "Who…are…they?" You choke between breaths.

"Your uncle's men." Seungcheol replies nonchalantly as he shuts the door and kneels next to you.

"How long have they been following us?"

"After we got to the station."

"Why didn't you say anything!"

"I didn't want to scare you." He replies, his hand wrapping around your shoulder. "Don't talk, just breathe. You did well."

You don't know if it is the intensity of the situation or the adrenaline crash or his words that make you slump in his arms, your body resting against his as you catch your breath. The feeling of his warmth against your body is something you are extremely grateful for at the moment.

"Please tell me you have tickets." You pant, resting your head against his shoulder.

"Of course. First class." _____ Five hours later, you are at your destination.

It is a cabin in a small town full of greenery and old architecture.  It is very picturesque, located in between a vast area of mountains, somewhere you'd come to spend the summer with your family maybe. Even though your situation is the farthest thing from a vacation, it doesn't stop you from admiring the beauty before your eyes.

"The place is very beautiful, Seungcheol." You admire the surroundings as well as the cabin.

It's somewhat isolated from the town, shrouded by the forest, as the nearest market from here is about ten minutes drive.

"Thank you, my grandfather made it. He left it for me." He provides as he carries your small bag from the car he borrowed from a friend here and unlocks the door with a key.

"We should do something about your cut." You mention worriedly, crossing the threshold as you see him slightly wince while moving. The bleeding seems to have stopped after he put some pressure in the wound but it still needs to be cleaned.

Hearing your words, he looks down to see the wound before shrugging, "It's fine. The bleeding has stopped."

You expected him to say something like that so you take matters in your own hands. "Is there a first aid kit here?" You ask as you pad to the bathroom, looking around carefully and sure enough, inside the cabinets under the sink, there's a first aid box.  Seungcheol murmurs grumbles of protest as you come back to the living area and ask for him to sit on the spot next to you on the couch.  Thankfully he listens to you. As he unbuttons his shirt, you disinfect your hands while trying your best not to peek at the delicious row of abs that comes into display. As his wound comes into view you cannot help but wince at the sight, which doesn't go unnoticed by your bodyguard. His hand immediately reaches to take the cotton swab from your hand, murmuring. "I can do it myself."

You tsk in disapproval, sending him your best scolding glare before resting one of your hands on his shoulder for support and gently swiping on the wound with the swab dipped in antiseptic with your dominant hand. Seungcheol sits still all through it while you hold your breath, channelling all your focus on the task at hand. 

It is scary; being this close to him and for some reason the act of cleaning up a cut is turned into something way too intimate by your brain. So, you don't dare to look in his eyes, afraid of what you'll see in them but terrified of what they will make you feel; something you can not resist or put a lid on, like the urge to cup his cheeks and kiss those irresistible lips.

You must be swiping at his wound with your face mere inches away from touching his chest for way too long because one of Seungcheol's hands comes to grab your wrist, stopping your movements.  "I think that's enough," His voice holds the aloofness that you are used to which makes you sigh.

"Does it hurt? Do you want a painkiller?" You still find yourself asking.

Seungcheol frowns. "No, ____. I'm fine. It's just a cut, I won't die."

"Still—"

"Maybe you should focus on yourself. You have had a long day—"

"Why do you always do this!" It takes a few moments for you to realise you are yelling. You stand on your feet, hands fisted at your sides as the first aid kit falls on the floor from your lap, spilling its contents all over.

"What do you mean?" He asks and you absolutely loathe how his voice never changes, laced with that touch of monotony and indifference.

"Ugh, Seungcheol! Why do you always push me away! I want to help you! I'm just trying to take care of you!" This, however, seems to evoke an emotion from him because he is immediately on his feet, glaring at you, his large body towering over you.

"It is not your job to take care of me! If anyone here is going to take care of someone, it will be me making sure you are alive, is that clear?"

"I'm just trying to help you yet you keep pushing me away—"

"I do not need your help!" His voice is a roar of thunder, making you gasp as you take a step back. You've never seen him like this nor did you imagine someone so unbothered and composed had a side like this. "Who are you, huh? Why do you keep stepping over the line? Did I ask for your fucking help? I'm the last person you should be worried about, Ms Lee, you understand that?"

By now, angry tears have gathered in your eyes. Not wanting to cry in front of him you bite your lips and push past him as you run towards your room. "Fuck you, Choi Seungcheol!" —

You spend a long time in your room, crying and cursing him out before eventually falling asleep out of exhaustion. 

When you are awake from your slumber, the clock reads 2 in the morning. Disoriented and irritated and hungry, the first thing you do after emptying your bladder is go hunt for something to eat. Even though you intended to avoid Seungcheol, it is impossible not to come across him as he sleeps on the couch in the living room, this one thankfully big enough for him to comfortably lie. 

There's a small lamp in the corner of the room and the light from there is falling on one side of his face, highlighting his cheekbones. 

You stand still for a moment to make sure that he's actually asleep, before tiptoeing to the kitchen. Pouring yourself a glass of water and you think of something easy to make that will not wake up the moody bastard in the next room. 

However, you don't get too far with that thought because a moment later, you hear an all familiar groan float through the quiet air of the night. It is Seungcheol. And he's having a nightmare. Once again. It's like deja vu.

All his commands of not helping him fly out the window as you run to the living room. Before you can reach there, however, you hear a crash and upon entering you see Seungcheol, wide awake and sitting on the floor on his hands and knees, his entire frame shaking violently as he keeps uttering something under his breath, still stuck in his nightmare. 

Your heart drops when you see the glass showpiece on the centre table shattered on the floor, along with the pillows and blanket that were previously on the couch. "Seungcheol!" You yell as you rush to him, carefully avoiding the broken shards of glass and sitting on your knees next to him as you try to get him out of his head and focus on you. His blown out pupils meet yours as his hands shake and his breath comes out in struggling pants. 

He's having a panic attack.

"Seungcheol!" you call for him, trying your best to keep your voice stable which proves to be hard as your heart breaks for the man, hating seeing him in this state. 

"Look at me. Listen to my voice. Breathe. Breathe with me. Look at me. Breathe, just breathe, you're going to be fine."

And so for the next few minutes, you try your best to calm the agitated man down, holding his body next to yours as you run your hands along his back, up and down, up and down.

You realise he's back to normal when the shuddering stops and his body remains immoblie next to you, as if he has fallen asleep.  You know otherwise because when you pull back to take a look at his face, you find his eyes open, that familiar, empty and aloof gaze replacing the panicked ones. His lips are set to a thin line and you feel his whole body stiffen next to yours and just like you know he is back to normal.

This time, you do not ask him if he's okay or if he wants anything. Instead you get up from the floor quietly and go to the kitchen where you quickly make him a warm cup of tea.

When you return, he's still on the floor, sitting with his back against the sofa, hands resting on his knees as his head hangs low. Silently, you walk over and sit next to him before extending the steaming mug towards him.

You hold your breath, waiting for him to reject it and start spewing mean words at you but you are to be amazed. 

Surprising you, he does none of those things but accepts the mug and takes a small sip. A tiny smile of victory graces your lips as you settle your gaze forward to the empty wall and sit in silence next to him. 

As the steam gradually disappears from the mug and his dejected posture becomes tense and uptight, you know he's about to tell you off.  Your guess turns out to be correct because just a moment later, he sets his mug down on the floor and turns to face you. His voice is stoic when he speaks, "I clearly told you not to—"

"Do you want to talk about it?" You interrupt him with a soft voice. He appears stunned as his mouth opens to say something but closes back to a tight line.

"I used to have nightmares as well, after the accident." You whisper, leaning back to the sofa, your unfocused gaze settled on the  walls of the cabin as your mind disappears in the depths of the memories of those gruesome nights.

"I'd wake up screaming and crying. Every damn time I'd see the crash so vividly and the moments before it, my mom's desperate eyes at mine, her fading words, telling me to hold on, telling me that she loves me..." You lose your voice with a choke as tears blind your vision. A hand comes to rest on your shoulder gently and gives you a reassuring squeeze. It takes a few moments for your brain to process that it's Seungcheol and you are pleasantly surprised. 

Your eyes search for him, and his face is solemn, his eyes showing just a reflection of kindness and sympathy. With a sad smile, you wipe the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. "It was horrible at the beginning when I couldn't speak. I'd wake up distressed and not finding my voice would make it even worse. For the first two months, Chan stayed with me every night. He'd try his best to calm me down but every night I'd be just as scared to go to bed."

"Eventually, the nightmares didn't come as often. Especially after I realised I could speak again and I was remembering bits and pieces of the accident and my suspicion was growing. I haven't had any nightmares for a while now but I remember how they made me feel. How awfully...real they felt." You sigh, shuddering at the thought.

A few moments of silence pass by as Seungcheol's hand drops from your shoulder. You don't expect him to spill his heart out but you are grateful that he didn't push you away and listened to you and comforted you. It is more than you ever thought you could get from him. Having this simple, somewhat bitter moment of intimacy is enough to soothe your love starved heart.  However, you realise it's a night full of surprises when Seungcheol starts speaking. "I was in the military, as you know. I joined when I was eighteen. I lost my parents the year before so it was just me and my grandfather." His voice is quiet as he fixes his eyes out the window, looking at the dark night sky.

You follow his gaze and make a quick observation that there are no stars tonight, just an empty, dark sky, before setting your gaze on Seungcheol's face. 

"My grandfather served in the military during the early years of his life and I wanted to follow his footsteps. The first few years were tough but good. I enjoyed them as they kept me busy and focused. During my fifth year in the military, my grandfather passed away peacefully in his sleep. I was on break at that time so I was there with him in his last moments. However, it still broke me. Sending him off was one of the hardest things I had ever done."

He pauses, making you hold your breath and anticipate his next words. His expression is unreadable, his sharp gaze focused outside when he continues.  "I returned to the military a different man. My life as a soldier became everything to me. I worked ten times harder than anyone else as the military turned into my entire life. I jumped through the ranks very quickly and went on various missions as a SEAL. All of them were dangerous but successful as I led my teams out safely each time. Until Sudan."

There is another heavy pause as you feel the air thicken with tension. You know the worst part is about to begin and as you observe his gaze become more and more unfocused, you can't help but dread whatever is coming next. "It was a humanitarian mission. Me and my team were tasked to rescue some families from a group of local terrorists. They were held inside a camp in the middle of the desert. The infiltration was successful. But, just as we were escaping, the terrorists found out and came at us with double manpower. They had a couple of high powered explosives which we were unprepared for because they were not supposed to have such weapons."

"As my team and I were exchanging fire against them, a bomb went off right next to me. It is the last thing I remember before waking up in a hospital bed a week later."

"The explosion fucked up left leg. I needed three surgeries and months of rehabilitation. But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part is that it cost three of my teammates their lives."

Oh Seungcheol. Tears are beading down your eyes as you let his words soak into you.

"It happened almost six years ago but it still haunts me. How I fucked up. How I killed them." "Seungcheol, no!" You scold, your voice not as powerful as you'd like it to be as it breaks mid way. "You did not kill them, you hear me? It was an accident. A horrible one but it was not your fault in any way. They died honourably and think of all the others you saved, all the times you led your team out of harm successfully. Think about all the lives you have saved, all the people you have helped." Your grip is strong on his forearms as you turn him to face you fully. His eyes meet you; bleak and hopeless and the urge to wipe away all his pain soars within you. It's a shame you can't do that so you do the next best thing you can think of.

You pull him in a tight hug. You wrap yourself around him, resting your chin over his shoulder as you close your eyes and hold him tight, the act a bit hard due his huge build. For several long moments he doesn't hug you back until you finally feel his warm hands creep on your back as he rests his face against your neck, cocooning your body with his.

You swallow a sob and blink furiously to drive away the tears, your hands stroking his hair in gentle motions. "It's alright, Cheol. You are going to be just fine. It is all going to be okay."

His response is to hold you tighter and you welcome his vulnerability, his pain and agony with open arms, breathing it in as if it is your own. Long moments are spent as you two remain in each other's embrace until you finally sit back to take a look at him.

"Maybe you should talk to a therapist?"

"I did," he sighs, running a hand through his soft locks. "After the accident, I saw one for almost a year. I was prescribed so many medicines and I almost got addicted to them even though they weren't doing much to help. So I decided to quit altogether and moved here, in his cabin. I stayed here for about six months, trying to pull myself together before an old friend of mine called, asking if I wanted to join his private security company. I agreed because I couldn't live in solitude any longer without killing myself and now, I'm here." You nod, watching him intently as you two sit with mere inches of space between each other's faces. In the back of your mind, you realize that this is the most intimate you have been with Seungcheol and probably you will ever get to be so you can't help but speak the next words. "You are so beautiful, Seungcheol. Inside and out. You are such an amazing person.I only wish you would know that." Your words can barely be heard because you speak so softly but it contains emotions from the deepest, rawest part of your heart. Sitting with him on the floor, in the middle of the night at a cabin in the woods, talking about your deepest traumas and secrets is something you never thought you would experience but now you realise, it is a treasure, a moment of profoundness that you will carry close to your heart for the rest of your life.

Seungcheol's eyes widen for a fraction upon hearing your words before he shifts, trying to pull away from you but your strong grip on his hands stops him. Once again, you find yourself confessing. "Ever since you've come to my life, I feel hopeful, even though we are going through so much trouble. I want to live again and I feel happy and hopeful when I look at you. And I can never thank you enough for that."

Seungcheol's Adams apple bobs as he swallows and the expression on his face is so vivid you realize you have left him speechless. A small, shy smile sets on your lips as you squeeze his hands softly, your thumb stroking over his bruised knuckles.  While your mind swoons over how tender this moment is and how beautiful he looks and how soft his lips appear, he inches his face closer to you before pressing his lips against yours.

At first, you believe it's a dream.

It is bound to be, no?

Blinking multiple times, you make sure that it in fact is not a dream but it seems to take too long because Seungcheol is pulling away from you, the apology right there at the tip of his tongue. However, you do not let him speak the words he doesn't mean. Instead, you do what you have only done in your late night fantasies, you cup his cheeks and pull his face down to yours, meeting his lips in a fierce kiss. You do not even think of holding back, pouring every bit of passion and need and admiration for him into it. 

Thankfully, he reciprocates, cupping your neck and jaw, tilting your face for better access. 

And it's wonderland. It is everything you imagined and more, everything you want and need, everything that can heal you.

In the rosy haze of desire and desperation, your hungry hands travel down to the hem of his white t-shirt, tugging on it in a futile attempt to get it off. The action gets the attention of Seungcheol as he dettaches his lips from yours, taking a look at your face.

"_____—" he makes a weak attempt to stop you but his words die on his tongue as you hastily stand up, dragging him with him. Pressing a soft finger on his lips, you shush him as you bring your face closer to him and whisper in his ear. "Don't push me away Seungcheol, please. I need you. And you need me too."

There is a battle in his gaze as he stares at your longing visage for a moment with a clenched jaw before muttering a curse underneath his breath. The next moment, you are being carried to your bedroom and in the blink of an eye, you are standing in front of your bed with his frame towering over you.

"You wanted this?" He teases but his eyes are lit with a fire that is inextinguishable as he takes off his shirt and even in the dimly lit room, you do not miss the carved perfection of his body, littered with scars here and there. In vain hope, you pray that your face isn't visible as you ogle him but you know it is because his unrelenting stare breaks your skin into goosebumps. 

As you are stuck in a trance of lust, he takes a step closer to you before his breath grazes your ear. "Lift your hands, angel."

The next moment, he pulls your nightshirt off your body, leaving you only in your sleeping shorts. He wastes no time, attacking them right next as they come off with a tug and you fall into your bed. You have no time to overthink or feel shy because Seungcheol cages your body underneath his as he crawls to you, a dark look of hunger on his face. 

"You are a fucking temptress, you know that?" He grunts, a calloused thumb reaching out to stroke your cheek. You lean into his touch, eyes falling closed at the contact as a soft sigh escapes your lips but the next moment Seungcheol is grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you in for a heated kiss. 

It's all teeth and tongue as he devours your mouth, two tongues entangled in a fierce rhythm of tango before finally letting you gasp for air.  "Crawl up," his voice is that of a quiet command which you follow instantly, letting him sit comfortably on his knees as he spreads your legs wide.

The very next moment a squeak leaves your mouth as Seungcheol pushes his index finger inside you, your wetness granting easy access. He makes a noise, something akin to an animalistic groan as his digit easily slips inside. 

"Fuck, you're so wet for me," he murmurs as he inserts another finger and then another before curling them inside you.

"Seungcheol!" You yell, grabbing the sheets as your hips lift off the mattress due to the electrifying jolt of pleasure. Your reaction makes him grunt as he fastens his face and you feel your legs tremble, making you think that you are going to come already. 

Your core tightens around his fingers as more wetness leaks from you, only amplified when he brushes his thumb against your clit. Another gasp and a shudder of your body makes Seungcheol smirk as he whispers, "Gonna come, angel?"

You nod your head aggressively, your hips chasing his fingers in their own rhythm and just as the tingles of your release soars in your body, Seungcheol removes his fingers.

"No!" Your protest is immediate but the man only gives you a cruel smile as he makes a show of licking his fingers clean. The act itself is extremely hot and you cannot help but release another groan of frustration. 

"Seungcheol! Please let me—"

"You are gonna lie back and let me eat your pussy now, hmm? After I'm satisfied, I will let you come." He announces, lips hovering over your thighs, the touch of his warm breath giving your goosebumps. The low gravel of his voice paired with the way he keeps looking at you from between your thighs makes you swallow thickly before lying your head back into the pillow, a shuddering breath leaving your lips.

"Good girl."

Good girl.

Your core clenches deliciously.  However, you do not get to soak in the warmth of his praise because the next moment he flicks your clit with his tongue and your scream pierces the night air. Your body writhes while he holds your thighs open in a strong grip, incoherent gasps and curses of pleasure falling from your lips. Seungcheol is like a man starved, as he eats you out mercilessly, his tongue going deep inside your most intimate parts. You can't remain still, tears of pleasure stinging your eyes as your body shakes and pleas fall from your lips.

"Oh f-fuck! Seungcheol! Please!" 

You yourself do not know what you are begging for. It's the sweetest torture, one you want to end but also continue forever.

Your release has wet your inner thighs and paired with Seungcheol's saliva they drip down to your asshole but Seungcheol doesn't stop. He brings his attention to your hard, swollen clit now which he flicks repeatedly with his tongue.

"Fuck! I can't! Please let me come!" You are convinced your voice can be heard from miles away. "You wanna come?" He grunts between breaths, voice muffled.

"Yes, yes! Please!"

"Then come. Come for me, my angel." The command has your toes curling as he gives a harsh suck to your clit and in an instant, you go off like a firework. The heated coil in your belly snaps as your body twitches, sending you headfirst into an orgasm so good, so deep, tears drip down your eyes. All through it, Seungcheol keeps sucking your pussy, almost making you numb before stopping with a final, sloppy kiss on your clit and sitting back.

Even in the darkness, you see his lips shine with your release.

"You are an aphrodisiac, angel." His words caress your skin as he leans forward and presses soft, tantalising kisses on your jaw and down your throat. 

"Please, fuck me now," your voice is a cry of plea as you chase his lips for a kiss. He entertains you, tangling your mouths in an embrace of passion as you taste yourself on his tongue. One of his hands moves down amidst the kiss and your foggy brain registers that he's taking off his sweatpants. 

With a soft groan he takes off his lips from yours and frees himself from your entangled limbs, standing up to kick his boxers and sweatpants down his legs. 

And oh dear lord is he a view. You admire him in his nakedness in the half lit room, drinking every inch of him. You can't stray your eyes from his cock, hard and leaking as you gulp and send a prayer to the sky, marvelling at his size.

Seungcheol crawls back into the bed, his movements akin to the grace of a panther, his eyes lit with ferocity and huger as he pins both your wrists over your head with one hand.

"I'm going to fuck you so good you will be ruined for any other man." He promises, giving you a delicious shiver on your spine. You want to scream that you don't need any other man, you never will but the thought dies in your mind when you feel his tip prodding at your core.  He slides in easily, almost embarrassingly easy as your sopping cunt welcomes him with wide open arms. A guttural groan escapes from his throat as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, spewing curses. The sound makes you clench around him which makes him curse again.

"You are so fucking tight, fuck!"

You can only respond in an incoherent hum as he starts moving inside you, making you throw your head back and let out a loud moan. He raises his head to look at you and your eyes contact and in a second, everything becomes more intense. The look in his eyes is ever captivating and ruthless while he pistons in and out of you tirelessly, hitting that sensitive spot inside you perfectly each time.

"You're going to be the death of me." He whispers, almost as if he's talking to himself. His mouth works on your jaw, moving down to your throat and sucking harshly on the soft flesh, making you shudder in pleasure. "Seungcheol!" You cry. "Harder! Please!"

"Any harder and I'll come right now."

"Do it! Come inside me!" All other thoughts and worries have left your mind and beg him for more, already cock drunk.

"Fuck, you sure?"

"I'm on pills, Cheol. I'm sure," you pant, clutching onto his back as he increases his pace, leaning back to sit on his knees as his hands move to your waist, holding you in a bruising grip.

"Gonna fill you up then, angel. Make this pussy bleed my come." He promises with a snark, his eyes trained on your face as he delivers one particular thrust that has you arching off the bed and seeing stars.

Then there is a brush of touch on your hard clit and a quiet command of coming which has fireworks exploding all throughout your body. You cry out, from pleasure and pain so addictive that white spots dance in your vision, hands twisting the fabric of the bedsheet so hard it would be no surprise if they tore.  The next moment you feel Seungcheol release inside you and the feeling of his warm cum coating your insides gives your body another round of shivers as you completely blank out. You are transported to a hazy place where you feel like you are floating through the air as you lose all sense of connection from this world.

It takes a while for you to recover and once you do, you realise Seungcheol has slumped over next to you as his breathing gradually returns to normal. You turn your head slightly to look at him and just as your eyes meet, he makes a move to get up.  Your hand immediately latches onto his arm. "Don't go." You croak.

"I need to clean you up." His voice is quiet.

"Later." You whisper, begging with your eyes. "Just lay with me for a while." He remains still for a moment, probably battling with himself before lying back next to you. He stretches one of his arms and you quickly use it as a pillow, shuffling closer to his body and resting your palm on his chest. Seungcheol tenses next to you but you don't let it get to you as your hand gently strokes an old scar right beneath his chest. Just as you are almost falling asleep, you feel his hand wrap around your waist, holding you softly and a smile graces your lips.

I love you, Choi Seungcheol.

— The next morning, Seungcheol starts avoiding you like you are the plague. As soon as you step out of your bedroom, Seungcheol, who was sitting in the living area quite literally bolts outside with his laptop and everything, throwing a curt good morning to you and not even sparing a glance.

You are hurt, to say the least. While a silly part of you expected that maybe you would wake up with him in the same bed and have breakfast together before some more lovemaking, the realistic part of you did not expect him to act like this. 

Like nothing happened.

Or worse, acting like what happened was a mistake.

Does he really think that last night was a mistake? 

It hurts to even think that he might believe that so you push that thought away with all your might. Instead, you focus on making yourself a nice breakfast before soaking in the tub for a while as you try to focus all your attention on plotting your uncles demise.

Once you are nice and clean after the soak, you find Seungcheol in the kitchen, drinking something from his mug as he talks over the phone with someone. You wait for him to finish, using the spare time to admire how good he looks— slightly messy hair, an old grey t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Once again, your mind travels to how good he railed you last night but before it can travel too far, you shake yourself back to the present.

"I need to talk to you." You announce as soon as he sets his phone down. Seungcheol's head snaps up to your voice and a grim expression settles on his face before he murmurs. 

"There's nothing to talk about. Last night was an accident. We were both vulnerable and it just... happened." It's like someone ripped your beating heart off of your chest or dumped you into a bucket of ice or better yet, did that together. Yet it still wouldn't hurt as much as his words pierce through you right now, leaving you utterly speechless as you just blink repeatedly, trying to make sure you heard that right. "It was not an accident, Seungcheol. You know it." Your voice is deathly quiet and you can feel yourself on the precipice of snapping.

"The hell it wasn't, _____." He snaps. "I am your fucking bodyguard and you are my client. I am not getting paid to take advantage of you!"

"Take advantage of me?" You seethe as an overwhelming urge to punch something, like his face, overcomes you. You have to take a deep breath in to form the next words. "I am not some helpless, pathetic girl that you can take advantage of. Whatever happened last night was real and with our consent. The man last night was the real you, the one you keep hiding, not this!" Seungcheol clenches his jaw, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "Either way, it should not have happened. We, you and me—" he points between the two of you. "It does not work. It won't."

"Seungcheol— "

"That's enough _______."

"No, tell me. Enlighten me, please," Your voice drips with sarcasm as you take a step towards him, crossing your hands in front of your chest. "Why do we not work? What delightful, eye opening information has been revealed upon you which led you to this wise conclusion?" The twitch in his jaw clearly tells you that he does not appreciate your sarcasm but you've had enough of his stubbornness, especially when it is clear that he wants you as well.

"So far, I'll I've heard is that I can't have you not, I don't want you. Quit playing games with yourself Seungcheol!"

"I am a fucking loose grenade!" His scream is abrupt, making you jolt. The veins in his neck pop out as he steps back, his frantic eyes glaring at you. "I cannot keep you safe! Not from myself. I am a man whose past haunts him. I can't fucking sleep at night without getting nightmares and smashing things! I cannot pass a day without the guilt of my past following me! I am headed towards hell and I cannot drag you down with me. I am not the man for you, _____, try to understand!"

"I think that's for me to decide, no?" You take another step towards him, trying to calm him down.

"No!" He yells, stepping back. "Enough! Just— enough. This conversation is over. I'm going out and when I return, we will pretend that none of this ever happened."

"You fucking asshole!"  You normally do not curse.  Out loud at least. Your mother had a strict rule of no bad language and you and your brother followed that rule to a t. No matter what you have encountered so far in your life, nothing gave you the urge to curse half as much as you want to right now.

"That's right. I am an asshole." He states calmly, sparing you a blank look before turning and heading for the main door.

"You fucking son of a bitch! I did not want to talk about this in the first place! When I said I need to talk with you, I meant about my uncle, you idiot!"

He stops in his tracks before slowly turning his head to look at you. "What about him?" His calmness makes you absolutely livid and even though you try your hardest to form words, the only thing your tongue seems to want to utter are curse words.

"It doesn't concern you anymore, asswipe." Seungcheol's lips form a thin line as he watches you quietly for a few moments.

"Do not do anything stupid,_____." He has the nerve to order you before marching out of the house, slamming the door loudly behind him.

"Go to hell, dickhead!" —

The rest of the day is uneventful as you two mind your own business, avidly avoiding each other. After Seungcheol leaves and blesses you with solitude you pace around the house angrily before going for a walk in the forest behind the cabin.

It is not dense or uncomfortable as a walking trek has been premade and you take a long walk which helps you clear your head just a bit. It takes your mind off of your stubborn bodyguard and back onto your uncle as you think of ways to trap him in a position he cannot easily get out of, as early as possible. With the plan you have in mind, it proves to be a bit hard, because you are staying in the middle of nowhere and your uncle has no clue where you are.

You walk home an hour later with a less obscure mind and send Chan a text through the burner phone, letting him know that you are alive and well. 

Your brother video calls you soon after and you almost forget that you are supposed to be mute at the joy of seeing your brother. It kills you that you have to lie to him but you bite your teeth and do it, telling him that work got too overwhelming and you are taking some days off and promise him of your quick return. You know your brother is not stupid and he has started doubting you but he is kind enough not to push you for more, which you are grateful for.

Seungcheol returns home a little after noon with more supplies. You act like he does not exist as you finish your lunch and retire to your room where you spend the rest of the day, lying in your bed and staring at the ceiling, thinking about everything and nothing. As the skies bleed to dark, dinner time rolls around and you two eat separately. Once again, Seungcheol makes no attempt to talk to you or acknowledge you just like you are doing but it still infuriates you, which you try to control by doing copious amounts of yoga in your room, before finally falling asleep quite late.

However, disaster strikes with the arrival of dawn, as the first rays of sun kiss the sky. 

You are snapped out of sleep as you open your eyes and find Seungcheol hovering over you, shaking you awake.

"Wake up, _____! Your uncle is here. He found us!"

Immediately you bolt upright, half thinking that all this is a vivid dream. As your panicked eyes meet his, your shaky hands clutching his biceps and you whisper. "W-what? How? I- I don't understand."

"I don't know either." Seungcheol grunts, craning his neck to look out the window. "There are two jeeps heading towards us. You need to get out."

As if on cue, you hear the loud roar of the engines as they come to a stop right in front of the cabin. Seungcheol helps your shaky form out of bed and ushers you down the stairs. 

"Take the back exit. Hide in the forest until I come for you. If I don't, call Jihoon for help. His number is here. And take this." he explains, handing his burner phone and a gun to you but your brain is stuck in a loop, not processing that there is a fucking gun in your hand.

"What do you mean if I don't? You are coming with me—"

"No. I will hold them off while you escape. Go, now." He orders, pushing you towards the back door of the kitchen. 

"_____! I know you're in there! Come out while I am being nice and maybe we can come to an agreement! You do not want to end up like your mother, do you now?" Your body freezes as you hear your uncle yell from the front door. The anger evoked from his words makes you want to stay and confront him but Seungcheol keeps pushing you, telling you to run.

And so, sparing one last longing look at Seungcheol, you tuck your weapon in your waist and run. You have not gotten even fifty feet away from the cabin when the first round of shots echo through the air. Your blood freezes as you come to a halt, turning your head around to look at the cabin as gunshots echo through the air.

You have to swallow a lump in your throat as tears gather in your eyes, the temptation to go back increasing. But you know going back is not a good idea because it will put Seungcheol's life at risk, more than it already is. So you keep moving deeper into the forest, the treks familiar because you have been here before and you make your way through very easily. When you come across a small cliff shrouded by thick bushes you decide to hide there, waiting to see if your uncle's men come around here. Confirming your guess, they do, after a while as they jog through, looking around for you. However, they fail to estimate your hiding place and continue deeper into the forest down the trek and just then, an idea forms in your head.

You have to go back.

The universe is on your side because you realise after some peeking around and shuffling through trees that there is another road that you can use to go back to the cabin. This one is definitely unused and riskier but you are determined to make this work. So, with a deep breath you jog through the narrow, muddy lane and soon enough, you find your way back.

The cabin is now quiet, eerily so.

The back door remains open, granting you access and you carefully step one foot in, holding your breath. 

It is a mess; bullet holes scattered around, a few bodies slumped on the ground, specks of blood all over the floor. The scene is bone chilling and you have to take several deep breaths to calm down. You can hear noises coming from somewhere in the house, grunts and yells, as if people are fighting, which is what is undoubtedly happening. No matter how severe your urge is to follow the sound and make sure Seungcheol is okay, you decide against it, putting faith in his capabilities instead and sending a prayer out to heaven. Careful not to step on any blood, you make your way through the mess and gingerly climb up the stairs, pausing to make sure no one is around. The coast is clear, thankfully, as no one is upstairs and you head straight for the little storeroom next to the bedroom, where you kept the very little belongings you brought with you.

You took special care to hide your prized possession, the evidence file. It stays secure inside a special compartment Seungcheol showed you that is situated under the wooden floor. Quickly removing the carpet, you open the hatch and look inside to make sure the files are there.

And they are, thankfully. Picking them up, you hold them to your chest and close the hatch, putting everything in its place while holding your breath through all of it. In the next second, the voice you dreaded echoes through the air.

"I believe I am going to need that, _____." 

You whip your head back to see your dear uncle standing at the door frame, lips twisted in a diabolic smirk like he got you just where he wanted to.  "I knew you would lead me to the evidence, niece. I just had to wait. And I knew you would contact your dear little brother no matter what so I put a little tracker on his phone and it led me here. Easy, no?" He shakes his head,  laughing cockily at his plan.

Your blood runs cold as your fingers grip the envelope tightly.

"Over my dead body." You hiss.

"Oh yeah, and my men told me you could speak?" He taunts, shaking his head some more. "Can you imagine my surprise when I heard that? Tell me, were you faking it all along? To what, get some pity points?"

"You will rot in jail, asshole. I will personally see to it." You seethe, clutching the folder tighter against your chest.  Your uncle's face loses its amusement as he stares at you for a while, cold and unblinking before reaching back and pulling out a gun. Your heart skips a beat as he points it right at you.

"The file, ______. I am not here to play games."

"Never." There is an immediate deafening noise of gunfire, making you squeeze your eyes shut and for a horrible moment, you think he has shot you. Opening your eyes, you see there's a hole in the roof where he has aimed his gun before pointing it back at you.

"Don't make me kill you like your mother. I need you alive for all the other plans I have."

"She was your sister in law!" You cry.

"She was a thorn in my way!" He seethes. "A conniving bitch trying to take the company from me and my son! Always challenging me! Always speaking against me!"

"It was never yours to begin with, you ugly old man! She knew you would steal it from us!"

"I dare you to speak one more word and the next bullet will be in your hand and the one after that will be in your leg. I won't do the mercy of killing you, _____. I will put you through hell on earth before I grant you the freedom of death." He sneers, eyes fueled with hatred. You swallow, your breath coming out in heavy pants as you decide on what to do next. 

Finally, with a defeated sigh you raise your arms in surrender and take a small, tiny step towards him, trying to appear as meek and harmless as possible. "You could have not killed her. You could have sent her away if she was a problem." You whisper, voice cracking. "Huh," he scoffs. "As if that bitch would listen. The only way was to get rid of her. For good. I knew she would be in the car with you that day and I planned to kill two birds with one stone but alas, that didn't happen" He shrugs, pouting. "It's alright, though. I know how to use it in my favour. I have so many plans for you. You're gonna come with me and sign off—"

"Drop the gun, Jin."

Seungcheol!

It is Seungcheol, pointing his Glock at the back of Jin's head as he appears behind him all of a sudden. You are flooded with gratitude so big tears come to your eyes and hope flares in your chest seeing him alive, hurt and dishevelled but alive. However, your hope is quick to die down when Jin speaks the next words.

"You sure you wanna do that, son?" Your uncle remains unaffected as he slightly turns his head, his words directed to Seungcheol. "You pull the trigger and by the time it has hit me I can pull the trigger as well and her brains will be splattered all over these walls. You don't want that, do you? Besides, I know as a matter of fact your boss here wants me alive. She has grand plans for me, is that not right, _____?"

His eyes pan back to you, the evilest of smiles on his face as you grit your teeth, trying to keep yourself from doing anything rash.

You underestimated your uncle for sure.

"Drop the gun, son. I won't say it again." He orders, taking a menacing step towards you. "You drop it and nobody gets hurt. I need this bitch alive for everything I have planned." Seungcheol's eyes meet yours and the helplessness and frustration is visible in them. You watch with bated breath as he slowly points the gun away from Jin's head and sets it down on the ground, raising his hands in surrender. A satisfied smile sets on your uncle's face and he lets his guard down for a moment, a fraction of a second, which Seungcheol takes advantage of.  In the blink of an eye, Seungcheol jumps on him, grabbing his legs and dragging him down onto the floor. His grip on the gun falters, letting it fall on the floor and as he makes a move to reach for it, Seungcheol kicks it to the farthest corner of the room.

A scuffle between them ensues and Seungcheol tries to overpower Jin and pin him down onto the floor. However, your uncle, the master of playing dirty, manages to pull a switchblade from his pocket and slashes Seungcheol on the arm, making him fall off of him. "I'm gonna fucking gut you, you son of a bitch!" He yells, charging for Seungcheol as he pins him down, aiming the blade towards his throat but Seungcheol stops him with a practised move. An intense battle of power ensues but you've had enough as you reach  for the gun Seungcheol gave you, tucked at your waistband.

Pointing it straight at Jin's head, you yell. "Drop the knife, Jin! I really don't want to kill you!"

"You don't have the balls to shoot me, bitch!" He yells back, not even glancing at you, busy subduing Seungcheol as he stabs him in the shoulder. That motherfucker!

He underestimated you greatly.

Furious, you pull the trigger and the bullet lands right where you aimed it, Jin's knee. With a howl of pain, he falls off of Seungcheol who quickly gets back up and wraps an arm around his throat in a chokehold.

"You filthy little bitch! You fucking —"

Seungcheol tightens the grip on his neck and after struggling for a few moments, Jin passes out, making you sigh in relief as you step back and lean against the wall. "You shot him." Seungcheol's voice is laced with bewilderment as he watches you with a look of surprise and admiration. "Self defence," you shrug, closing your eyes and inhaling a deep breath. "Tie him up. I'll call the police."

— Fifteen minutes later the cops arrive with blaring sirens followed by an ambulance. 

As soon as the ambulance comes to a stop, you are dragging Seungcheol towards it, yelling at the staff to get a look at his shoulder, around which you have wrapped a cloth to lessen the bleeding. As a responder attends to Seungcheol's injury, two policemen rush into the house when you tell them that the culprit is tied up inside. 

You stand out front with your arms crossed, the morning sun now high in the sky, the warm rays caressing your face as you watch your uncle being dragged out of the house and into one of the police cars. He is yelling and cursing his complaints, his eyes filled with hatred as they come in contact with yours. 

Your body goes rigid, the revelation coming upon you that he is done for and he knows it. You know he is definitely going to deny everything but he has another surprise coming his way.

An officer comes to you, talking about the next procedures and asking basic questions but you cannot quite register his words as your body finally gets off the high of adrenaline and realisation hits you like a bulldozer, it's over.

It is over. You got him. 

I got him, Mom. I will make him pay.

Seungcheol, who sits at the back of the ambulance while a nurse gives his shoulder a temporary fix, listens to the officer carefully, answering his questions in your place before thanking him as he takes his leave. 

"Are you okay?" Seungcheol's uninjured hand comes up to gently touch your arm, making you jump as you are snapped out of your reverie.

"Would you like me to look at you, ma'am? The responder offers as she takes off her gloves. "You look pale." You shake your head, swallowing as you wrap your arms around yourself. Seungcheol gives your hand a tug, making you sit next to him.  "Please take a look at her." He says to the nurse, who nods while he shrugs off the blanket sitting on his shoulder and wraps it around yours with his free hand. 

"Breathe, _____." He speaks softly, his hand holding yours. You nod, focusing on your breath for the next few minutes as the nurse does a quick check up on you. There are a lot of unshed tears within you and a lot of emotions you need to let out but you just cannot bring yourself to do that right now. There is this numb feeling all over you accompanied by an overwhelmingness.

And you know very well the war isn't over just yet. You have to make sure your uncle ends up behind bars. Even though you have some control over your emotions right now, you remember that you have to explain every hideous detail to Chan and you know will break down then. You know you will break down again when you visit your mother's grave but you know this time, you will feel less guilty of being the only one surviving, less in agony because you have avenged her.

"I have called my lawyer. He's preparing all the documents. We should head home now." You speak, eyes staring at the sun shining over the hills and the lush greenery.

This place is magical. You want to come here again, someday.

"Okay," Seungcheol agrees as his hand comes to rest over yours and he gives you a reassuring squeeze. Your eyes pan back to his face, littered with cuts before settling on his shoulder.  You open your mouth to scold him for getting hurt when he sighs. "What were you thinking, _____? I told you not to come back to the cabin. Your uncle had you just where he wanted. You could have been seriously hu—

"I had a plan, Seungcheol."

"What plan?" He looks annoyed. A soft smile graces your lips as your hand travels to the front pocket of your shirt. You pick the pen sitting there and hand it to Seungcheol with a mischievous smile. Frowning, he examines the item carefully until it dawns on him as his eyes widen. "This has a camera!"

"Yep! It can record audio and video very clearly. I had it on me for a while and as I was hiding in the forest I suddenly realised that I couldn't get better proof against my uncle than right then. So I went back to be the bait."

"Still, you don't realise how risky—"

"Trust me, I do. But I had no option. Besides, my gut told me that my uncle really didn't want to kill me unless he had to because after everything that happened, I was more valuable to him alive than dead." Seungcheol stares at you, all a loss for words before shaking his head in disbelief. 

"Wanna know something more fun?"

"What?" He is wary. "The documents I hid? They are not the real ones!" You cannot hold back a laugh as Seungcheol looks as you, more perplexed than before.

"I mean, come on! I'm not that stupid! I wouldn't carry them with me knowing my uncle is looking for them! I hid the original files in Chan's safe after I had him promise me not to touch them."

"Wow…" Seungcheol shakes his head in utter disbelief as he tries to wrap his head around everything. "Still, if I hadn't come for you on time…"

"I knew you would, Seungcheol. I believed that deep in my heart." You whisper, fingers lacing with his as your eyes meet. Seungcheol swallows and looks away, blinking. With a soft sigh, you stand up. "Are you sure you can travel this long in the car? Should I call in a helicopter for you?" Seungcheol rolls his eyes, standing up as well. "It's a fucking graze, _____. I have had way worse and I survived. I will be fine. I already feel fine." Your eyes narrow at him and you want to reprimand him but you cannot find it in your heart to do so. With a sigh, you usher him towards the car. "Let's go then. I'll drive."

— The next 48 hours pass by in the blink of an eye as you go through the most hectic time of your life. 

The first thing you do upon entering the city is sit down with your lawyer for a detailed discussion on the next steps you are going to take and hand the video recording to him. After that you ask Chan to come over to your place where you explain everything to him from a to z. It proves to be one of the worst moments of your life as you watch your brother's face pale with every word you utter and by the time you finish explaining everything he goes as still as a statue before abruptly taking his leave.

The next day you are asked to give a statement to the police along with Seungcheol which takes quite a while as you explain everything in detail. During that time the news breaks about your uncle getting arrested and charged for both murder and attempted murder leading to a flock of reporters chasing you down wherever you go. 

The stocks of the company are also affected as a side effect of the scandal and you have to spend a good amount of time in the office as you try to reassure everyone and get everything under control with your business partners.

On the third day after Jin's arrest, the police officially read out all the charges against him and announce the dates of the trials which sends the press into a second round of frenzy as they try to get your opinion on it, mobbing you whenever you step outside.

Your father is also taken in for questioning where he, thankfully, admits to his crimes and then he is also arrested with the charge of withholding information. He claims that his brother was blackmailing him so he had to keep the murder a secret. Whatever his reason was, you do not care anymore.

You refrain from engaging with the press as much as possible, other than the press conference arranged by your company that you had to attend but you do not make any comments about your uncle or father, just announcing that they will be punished accordingly and you and your brother will do your utmost best to protect the company. 

Amid all of this, Seungcheol refuses to leave your side, even with his injured shoulder. 

The wound was not deep but he was advised not to move the shoulder too much, an instruction he didn't pay any heed to when he was protecting you from the fleet of reporters. Taking it a step further than that, he called his friend over from the agency, the man called Jihoon, to be your second bodyguard because he believed that he was not functioning at his best.

Overall, it turns out to be a crazy, sleep deprived but exciting few days as you see all the pieces of the puzzle fall into its rightful place.

What is not exciting, however, is the straining relationship between you and your brother. After your confession to everything, he grows quieter and avoids talking with you unless it's absolutely necessary, which you understand and respect. He is processing the murder of his mother and his family members' participation in it and you also understand he feels betrayed because you kept so much information from him.

Still, it hurts.

This is why it is a surprise when you see him walk through the double doors to your office on a weekday morning as you were going through the legal statements of the company. "Chan!" You gasp, rising from your chair, eyes wide open in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

He gives a half hearted shrug before sitting down on the couch by the floor to ceiling windows, his gaze focused on the skyline.  "I had some things to tell you." Okay... You chew on your lip as you walk over to him and take a seat in front of him. You watch your brother stare off into the distance out the window before he finally heaves a long sigh and looks at you. The sadness and exhaustion are clear in his eyes and it breaks your heart. This whole media circus has not been easy for him either, especially because he knew nothing of what was going on and the press attacked him like a bunch of piranhas.

"The week has been crazy for you." He states, matter of factly. 

You give him a small, sad smile. "Same goes for you."

"Yes. I am feeling a lot of emotions together however..." he stops for a second before boring his gaze at your eyes. "I cannot help but feel betrayed."

"Oh Chan—"

"No, it's okay." He holds up his hand, stopping you. "I know that was not your intention and it is not your fault. It is none of our fault. I feel betrayed by this... family, this situation. I feel so angry that all of this happened right under my nose and I—" he huffs, dragging a hand through his hair as his voice fades. "I knew nothing about it."

"It is not your fault."

"It kind of is." He grunts. "I...I should have been more careful, more aware—"

"You couldn't have prevented it, Chan. It would only get you hurt in the process."

"Exactly! It would and that's how it should be. We're a team, you and I. So I should be equally responsible but only you got hurt in this process. You have been carrying all this burden with you since the accident. Not to mention the crazy stunt at the cabin. Are you insane, _____? I saw the video and he had a gun for fucks sake!"

"So did I!" You admonish. "Besides, he wasn't going to shoot me."

"You couldn't be sure!"

You drag out a sigh in surrender as you admire your brother for a silent moment as he suddenly reminds you of Seungcheol. "Whatever it was, it's in the past and I am safe now. However, I am sorry. For lying to you, for keeping you in the dark."

"Yes, I am actually quite mad at you for acting mute in front of me." He narrows his gaze at your face. 

"Well at least you learned sign language because of it!"

He snorts and you chuckle, a more comfortable silence falling between the two of you as you stare at each other for a while with melancholic smile on your faces. After a while, he announces, "I am going away for a while."

"What? Where?" You gasp.

"I don't know where, actually. Somewhere with a beach and lots of sunshine maybe. Away from…here." He smiles faintly. "I just...I need to be away for a while and process everything and simply be in my own company. I just need some time, sis." Tears shine in your eyes. "I understand." You whisper.  You really do but it still pains you because you feel responsible for breaking his heart.

"Take all the time you need. I'll handle the business while you are gone."

"Good. I know you will manage it well, maybe even better than me," he gives you a smile, a real one that reflects the shine in his eyes and you mirror it back. He stands up, buttoning his suit jacket. "Oh, by the way, what is going on between you and your hunk of a bodyguard?"

"Hm? What do you mean?" You feign innocence, avoiding his gaze, surprised at his observation. "Oh please." He gives you an it-is-very-obvious look. "The chemistry between you two has been explosive from day one. You always have that dreamy look in your eyes when you look at him."

"I do not!" You gasp. "Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night." He shakes his head in mirth. You huff out a dejected breath of surrender. "It doesn't matter anyway. He doesn't want me."

"Should I beat him up?" He asks casually, making you snort.

"You would lose, you know." You roll your eyes. That makes him laugh before he takes a step towards you. "I would deprive you of a hug but since you are already heartbroken, come here." 

You immediately get up and wrap your arms around your brother in a tight hug. You sniff, holding back tears as he pats you in the back, and you whisper. "I will miss you. Text me every now and then."

"Will do," he promises with a smile, pulling back and squeezing your shoulder. As he starts walking, he yells over his shoulder, "Do not think of getting married to that hunk while I'm not here though!"

"Yes, sir!" Rolling your eyes, you yell back and watch him walk out the double doors before plopping back on the couch, an eerie feeling of emptiness settling in your chest.

It takes a while for you to realise that tears are streaming down your face. Upon realisation, you simply hang your head low, letting them flow and stare at the floor, vision blurry as you play back the events of the last 6 months in your head. 

A soft knock at the door makes you snap your head up, breaking your trance as you quickly swipe your fingers below your eyes, head turning to see who enters. 

It's Seungcheol, composed in poise and grace as he steps inside before coming to a stand beside you. Silently, he asks for permission to sit, something you have told him multiple times not to do and when you give him a nod he takes a seat opposite to you. "You have been crying," he states quietly as he regards you with a knotted brow. You sigh and blink a couple of times before asking. "I'm fine now. What's the update? Any problems?"

He shakes his head. "Things are under good so far. You still need to give a formal statement at the fundraisers event next week, so you have to prepare for that."

"Hmm," you nod. "What brings you here, then? Are you feeling okay? I told you to take a day..." Your voice fades as you watch him produce a white rectangular envelope from his pocket and push it towards you on the table.

You have a sinking feeling in your chest that it is a resignation letter. 

"I am submitting my letter of resignation." He says, as calmly as ever, his eyes straight on yours. Your mouth opens but fails to deliver the words as you tilt your head to the side, processing this action. 

You have no problem with him resigning. In fact, you had planned to fire him after this hellish week ends so that you two could have a discussion about where your relationship stands, without all these professional restrictions limiting you. However, knowing Seungcheol, you have a sinking suspicion that he isn't quitting so that he can address his feelings for you but so that he can escape. 

Still, you decide to feign ignorance.

"Good. I was planning on firing you anyway. Not that you were bad at your job, you were the best but you need to rest, Seungcheol. And I have Jihoon now so I'll be fine." You nod as you pretend to go through his letter but inside, your hearts thuds so loudly you are afraid it will burst. 

"As of today, I am relieving you of your duties, Choi Seungcheol." You offer him a shaky smile. Seungcheol nods, his face as impassive as ever and you just cannot tell if he is heartbroken or relieved. His body language tells you that he is ready to get up and leave but you do not let that happen so easily.

"Now we can finally talk about our relationship." You speak, trying to keep your voice as stable as possible. Seungcheol visibly tenses as his face loses some of its colour and immediately you know this is not going to end well. 

But you are adamant on seeing this through.

"There is nothing to talk about." His voice is quiet, almost inaudible as he sits there looking like a petulant child lying to his parents. You have to take a deep breath to compose yourself. 

"You can do many things, Seungcheol but you cannot lie to me." You keep your voice as gentle as you can.

Your ex bodyguard seems to agree as he lets out a dejected sigh and stares at the floor very attentively. You watch him with intent for a few long moments, giving him time but ultimately when he remains as stubborn and unmoving as a mule, you break the silence. 

"I will lay all my cards on the table, Seungcheol, since you can't seem to do that. I have feelings for you, Seungcheol. Feelings that are very, very deep and real and I'm willing to act on them. Do what is necessary to make this work— make us work." 

He is quick to disagree. "Those feelings that you talk about, they are not love, ____. It is temporary. The last few weeks have been intense and it's just your body's natural reaction —"

"Do you love me, Choi Seungcheol?" You interrupt him, looking him straight in the eye.  The man looks like he swallowed a sock and you would feel bad for him, maybe even laugh at his reaction if the situation was not so dire.

"It does not matter." He looks away. You have the urge to hurl something at his head; the lamp next to you seems very tempting, but you fight it by clenching your fists a few times, trying to put yourself in his shoes.

"Seungcheol, I heard you that day in the cabin. I hear you now and I completely understand your fears. But I am here and we will work through them. It will take time but I'm ready, no matter how long it takes. I just want you, Seungcheol, and it kills me because I know you want me too yet you keep punishing yourself."

By now you have learned to read the man well and what might be easily overlooked by others comes into your notice; like how he clenches his fists and how his Adams apple bobs as he heavily swallows. The look in his eyes is that of a pure battle, one that he is fighting against himself and it's hard to watch. You are about to stand up and hold his hand when he suddenly moves onto his feet, his posture rigid as he glares down at you.

"I do not want you. What happened at the cabin was a mere moment of weakness. And you don't want me either, ______. You will soon realize it."

This gaslighting asshole!

"So you are going to lie to yourself till the very end?" You hiss, standing up and stepping closer to him, meeting his eyes with an equal glare.  "If anyone is lying to themselves here, it is you." He spits. "Our relationship was supposed to be professional from the start. I am a bodyguard and you are merely one of my protectees. Let us end it that way." He takes a step back while you watch him with a flabbergasted expression at his audacity. He uses your moment of weakness to say. "It was nice working with you. Hopefully, you won't need me again. Goodbye, Ms. Lee." The next moment he is pushing past you as his footsteps echo on the cold marble floor, the sound similar to that of your heart as it cracks.

"If you walk away now, I will never forgive you, Seungcheol!" You yell, voice cracking as tears gather in your eyes, your gaze focused outside the window, your back facing him. No reaction comes from behind you except for the footsteps which come to a halt. 

"Do you really want to end it like this?" Your whisper is followed by silence but through the eerie quietness in the room, you know the words reach him well.

His reply comes a few seconds later, in the form of footsteps that echo farther and farther away from you followed by the sound of the door opening and then closing and then utter silence. —

The fundraiser's event is going in full swing, bustling with people when you arrive. Draped in a red silk dress and diamond jewellery you look like a million bucks but in reality you feel nothing like that and you have no desire to be here whatsoever. But you know it is necessary to make an appearance as the host because it is extremely important to show up after the scandal to assure everyone that things are going well. Except they are not. While your professional life has slowly started getting back to its normal place your personal life has plummeted because all that you have done in the past week is mope around and curse your ex bodyguard and bitch about him to your current one, Jihoon.

The best way you can describe Jihoon is a grumpy cat. He talks very little but whenever he does, he's always huffing and complaining. But you see his softer side peek through from the little acts he does for you like making sure you eat your meals properly, checking up on you after your crying session and preparing all your documents and briefing you every morning. His tsundere antics and his silent company have probably been the only driving force that has kept you sane after Seungcheol dumped you.

The event is taking place in a banquet hall in the city centre and once inside, Jihoon guides you to a private resting room where you get ready for the opening speech. "I don't think I will stay till dinner. It is okay I leave after the speech, no?" You ask Jihoon as you finish revising the script. "Maybe mingle with people a little bit. Behave like a human instead of a broken hearted ghost" he offers, his tone dry as usual. You sigh and shake your head at his reply as you smooth your dress and step forward, waiting for the emcee to call you on stage.

Once on stage, you stand behind the podium, the tireless flashes from the cameras giving you a headache and you have to try your very best to plaster a smile on your face as you greet the guests and start your speech. Jihoon stands a few feet away from you on the stage, his eyes scanning the crowd carefully as he receives constant updates in his Bluetooth. However, not even two minutes into your speech, a man causes commotion as he tries to get on the stage, yelling some nonsense about how you are a fraud and a money launderer. You are baffled as you watch the security planted at the perimeter of the stage get a hold of him and drag him out while whispers and murmurs echo among the guests.

"He looks drunk," Jihoon says as he steps close to you to make sure you are alright. "Ignore him. He shouldn't have been allowed inside. I will have a talk with—" He pauses midway in his sentence as his eyes focus on something behind you, on the other side of the stage, his pupils widening. You can barely process the change in his expression before he tugs you away and shields you with his body as you two roll off the stage.

The next moment, an explosion echoes through the air. There is a ringing in your ears as Jihoon covers you, the echoes of the blast intensifying the headache you already had. You feel disoriented as Jihoon helps you to stand up and ushers you towards the resting room backstage while you hear screams echoing from the guests, their heavy footsteps scattering all over. "Wha- what is going on?" You cry, confused as Jihoon shoves you inside the room. "It is your cousin, Jun."  What!

"Lock the door. His men have blocked the exits. I need to clear them before I come get you. Do not open this door, is that clear?" He orders you and before you can form a reply, he is gone. Confused, scared and exhausted, you fall onto the ground, head in your hands as you fail to wrap your head around the situation. Of course, you knew your cousin was sour after his father's arrest but you never thought he would go this far. What is he thinking? What does he want?

You hear commotion spread outside, things crashing and even a few gunshots. As you step closer to the door to get a better listen there is a loud bang, as if someone is trying to break in.

Absolutely terrified, you step back, frantic eyes looking around the small space for a weapon.

If you knew the night would end up like this you would have brought a fucking gun with you.

Speaking of guns, a gunshot echoes through the air, making you duck your head as you scream. Another gunshot rings through the air and you realise whoever is on the other side is trying to come inside.

You can only pray it is not your fucking cousin, who is a maniac, apparently.

A broad, mean looking thug bursts through the door just as it opens and when his eyes land on you, he points his gun at your head. "Do not think of doing anything smart, woman. If you don't want me to blow your face off, you do as I fucking tell you to." Swallowing, you nod, holding your hands up in surrender.

So this is how it goes down, huh.

The man produces a handcuff from his pocket and tosses it towards you. "Put it on your hands! Now!" With shaky hands, you pick it up and just as you are about to fasten it around one of your wrists, there is a gunshot. You are sure you have been shot as you shut your eyes tight but start to think otherwise when seconds pass and you still feel your heartbeat.

Peeking open one eye you see the thug slumped over on the floor, a clean bullet hole on the back of his head. And in the doorframe, stands Seungcheol, a gun in his hand.

Choi Seungcheol.

Wait, what? How?

Your brain is struggling to catch up as you blink again and again to make sure of his presence. Indeed, he stands there, dressed in a black suit and tie, specks of red on his white shirt as he pants heavily.

What on god's green earth—

"Come on, you need to get out!" He yells, stepping inside the room, reaching for your hand and dragging you outside with him.  You cannot get a word out as you let him lead you, absolutely thunderstruck because of his sudden presence.

What the fuck is he doing here? How did he even know what was going on?

You are so baffled that you cannot speak these thoughts out, simply following him as he carefully guides you towards the exit, his gun drawn in alertness. Just as the backyard of the venue comes into view and Seungcheol is about to usher you outside, you hear a voice yelling from the other side of the hall.

It is your cousin's voice. "Let me go you fucking assholes! I am gonna blow that bitch myself! I am gonna tear her up into fucking pieces! How dare she take what is mine! That's slut! I am gonna…" 

Seungcheol almost pushes you to move as you get stuck in a trance of his mean words. "It is okay, Jihoon has him. Come on."

As if you are functioning on autopilot, you let him guide you outside into the open field and underneath a small sitting area where fresh air finally hits you, letting you breathe in a lungful. Seungcheol informs the other security about the update over his comms as you watch him in silence. When he is done, his eyes finally meet yours and in an instant everything that had gone down in the last month flashes through your head, giving you goosebumps. 

There is a moment of silence as you watch him with a blank expression while he looks around uncomfortably. Finally, he decides to break the silence with a chuckle. "I leave you for a few days and this is what happens?" 

His tone is full of amusement. The nerve of this man. You, however, find none of this amusing. It gets your blood boiling as you hear him say the words, your brain finally registering everything and you simply cannot hold yourself back anymore. The next thing you do is strike a clean, sharp slap on his cheek which catches him off guard as he stumbles a few steps back. His eyes widen in shock, his hand moving to cup the cheek which is turning bright red, like your palm.

You poured your heart and soul and all your pent up emotions into that slap so you pray it stings like a bitch.

Your hand does for sure.

"I deserved that-" Seungcheol starts to speak, holding up his hands but the moment he opens his mouth you are on him again as you grab him by the collars, triggered, "How dare you come here, you scum!" You hiss, tugging at the fabric of his collars while a bewildered Seungcheol tries to gently pry you off of him. "How dare you have the audacity to show up after everything you said?"

"_____, you are gonna hurt yourself—"

"You quit! You made it clear that you had no interest in me, Seungcheol! So what gives you the right to come here and save me, huh?" You are seething, emotions so strong you feel like choking and if you were a cartoon character, visible steam would be coming out of your ears.

"_____, please—"

"Who gave you the right to be a hero, huh? What made you come here? Tell me! Talk, you asshole!" You yell, shaking him, tugging on his collars repeatedly as a wild rage takes over you.

You are going to murder him.

"Because I am in love with you!" He yells back, making your grip falter for a second which he uses to quickly free himself, taking a few steps back as you stare wide eyed at him, panting.

When you finally get enough air in your lungs and process his words, really process them, your wry laugh echoes through the cold night air like mockery. "Fuck you, Seungcheol. I have had enough of your bullshit." You spit, pushed to your limits.

God, give me patience.

"I know," he whispers, taking a step closer while you take one back. "I understand what I have done and I do not expect you to forgive me at all. I just need you to know that I fucking love you and I am so fucking sorry. I know I am late but I am here to stay—"

"No you are not," You snap. "Get the hell away from me before I take a gun and fucking shoot you." 

"If that's what will make you happy..." Seungcheol calmly reaches for his gun as you watch him, alarmed. He takes it off of the holster and holds it out towards you. "Shoot me as many times as you want. I deserve it.

This fucking man—

"Guys, can we do this weird foreplay somewhere else," Jihoon yells from behind you as you spin to see him jogging towards you two. "You need to get out of here, _____. He's saying that there are still explosives in this compound."

"What!" You shriek but before you can get another word out, Seungcheol is grabbing your hand and dragging you with him as he starts sprinting. "Keep me updated," he addresses Jihoon who nods, talking into the comm to get a car at the rear entrance for you.

"Let go, you asshole!" You hiss, trying to pry his fingers off your wrist which proves to be a challenge while running full speed in high heels. "God damn it, Seungcheol, I will fall!" And you almost do so, as you misstep and stumble but the man is quick to catch you and before you can even think, he is throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.  "Put me down, you pig!"

"As soon as we get to the car, angel."

Which is quick, thankfully, because the next moment he is putting you down and holding the passenger side door open for you and despite wanting to resist him, you know the wise idea is to leave right now.  As soon as you are inside the car, he shuts the door before running to the other side and before you can even put your seatbelt on, the car is moving.

"Jihoon will be fine, right?" You ask half mindedly as you turn your head back to look at the venue which gets smaller every passing second. "He will be fine," Seungcheol grunts. "The police have been informed as well as the bomb disposal team." "What about my cousin?" Seungcheol remains quiet for a moment, only staring ahead on the road. "Him? He's  alive, unfortunately."

"What do you mean?" You ask warily.

"I shot him. The bullet hit his abdomen. He won't die, don't worry. That depraved asshole doesn't deserve that mercy." You sigh, rubbing your temples as you lean back into your seat. "What the hell was he thinking?"

"He wanted to hurt you, humiliate you, _____. He had plans to hurt you horribly." Seungcheol huffs out a breath, shaking his head and clenching his jaw. "He has gone insane." That is all he provides, making you fall silent for a moment. "When will this stop." You whisper to yourself. "I never considered him to be a threat."

"I should have. You locked up his father and made sure he could never take over the company. He was a huge threat that I failed to notice." He murmurs.

"Don't start, Seungcheol," you snap at him, irritated. "I'm still tempted to shoot you. Your duty was over the moment you handed in the resignation letter and walked out of my life."

"My biggest mistake." He whispers to himself but you hear it. 

Tired, frustrated, scared and angry, you decide not to engage in this conversation further as you look out the window and wonder what is coming next.  Another media storm for sure.  More interrogations, more meetings with your lawyer.  At the same time, however, the edge that you have been feeling for the last week is gone. The fact that your cousin never came up to you or tried to retaliate his father's arrest in any way made you wonder but it never occurred to you that he could turn violent, insane. 

Jun was after all a puppet, who only did things after his father made the way for him his whole life.

Today was a different case, it looks like. Anyhow, it is somewhat of a win for you because you miraculously got out unscathed and the threat has been neutralised. However, you are sure many have been injured and your reputation has taken a severe hit today. The upcoming months will be very hard, harder than before…

The next coherent thought that comes upon you is that you fell asleep. You open your eyes realising that the car has stopped and the time on the dashboard says about thirty minutes have passed. Blinking, you shift in your seat and find Seungcheol, sitting next to you, watching you with a look that is foreign on his face, something close to adoration. Clearing your throat, you remove your seatbelt and sit up straight.

"How long was I asleep?"

"Not long enough. We just got here." He announces as he moves to open his door. "Come on, let's go inside."

Once you are out of the car, you realise Seungcheol has taken you to a five star hotel and seeing the confusion on your face, he explains. "It's safer here. Can't take any more risks tonight."

He casually slips his hand into yours, making you frown and drags you towards the hotel. Your tired body cannot put up much of a fight so you follow him begrudgingly and you are quickly escorted to the penthouse suite thanks to his prior booking.

Upon entering the suite you walk straight to the master bedroom where the king sized bed calls for your tired self as you sit down and take off your heels, throwing them away on the carpet over the floor with a soft thud, exhaling a loud sigh. Seungcheol follows you and remains quiet as you sit in silence at the edge of the bed, too wired, too disoriented to do anything. Normally, after everything that happened with your uncle your decision making skills have significantly sharpened but having Seungcheol near you, his stupid confession ringing in your head is fucking with your brain. And as if that goddamn man can read your mind, he kneels in front of you on the floor, one of his hands softly touching your knees as he utters. "You need to rest, ______. I will handle everything else. It is all under control now, trust me."

"Why do you do this?" You croak, pushed to the limits of exhaustion, your eyes trained somewhere in an unfocused gaze as you fidget with your hands. "Why do you push me away and then come back running at a time like this?"

He is silent for a long time while you fight to keep your tears at bay.

You will not cry in front of him.

"I am sorry." He only whispers, his fingers softly stroking your knee as his head lowers and his gaze falls down on the floor. "I was foolish and...scared. That night after we slept together you…you said out loud you loved me and I panicked. I was— I am a danger to you. But being away from you for a week was a pain unlike anything else. I went back to that cabin and I slept in your bed and the sheets had the faintest of your smell. Weirdly, your scent and everything you left behind soothed me and I didn't have any nightmares in the past week. But every morning I woke up and there was a sinking feeling in my stomach that only grew each day until I couldn't bear it. I realised that you really were an angel who saved me, brought lightness back into my life, and gave me a new purpose, a new dream. I realised what an idiot I was and I came to the city on Wednesday night. Believe me when I tell you that my intention was to just stay away and make sure you are okay. I knew what I had done and I was in no way worthy of showing up in front of you but I had to intervene tonight, _____. Your life was in danger."

The air conditioner in your room suddenly feels chillier as goosebumps prickle your skin, making you shiver. Seungcheol takes notice of it and stands up quickly to take off his jacket before draping it over your shoulders. He stands in front of you in silence, fingers hovering over your now covered shoulders while you stare at his shoes, your head going blank but also running a mile a minute. The frustration and overwhelmingness bleed together until you can't tell one emotion separate from another.

All of a sudden, Seungcheol's thumbs caress your cheeks while the rest of his fingers softly cup your jaw and it is only then that you realise you have been silently crying. He oh so gently wipes your cheek dry while uttering, "Please don't cry. I know I hurt you. I promise I will leave as soon as I make sure you are going to be okay." Instantly, a part inside your brain is flooded with panic as it screams no. You don't want him to leave when you remember how hard the past week was on you and how many times a day you would revisit that night in the cabin, the moment you two shared and how it proved to be the anchor for you throughout everything that happened after.

You were— are mad at him but you still want him near, crazy is it not?

You keep thinking of how safe you felt the moment Seungcheol found you in tonight's chaos, how just his presence made you fall asleep so easily when for the last week you could not fall asleep without the fear of nightmares.

Yes, they have returned. But you don't see the accident anymore, you see your uncle chasing you around the cabin while you call for Seungcheol but he doesn't come, no matter how much you beg.

And after tonight, you wonder what more nightmares await you. So when you utter the one, very powerful word, you tell yourself that you are doing this for yourself, to be selfish and not for him, which is not a lie entirely. 

"No."

Your left hand reaches to grab the fabric of his shirt and you fist it tightly in your hand. "Don't leave."  You don't dare to look at him, scared you will break once you do and instead focus your gaze on the patterns of the carpet while holding onto his shirt. The next moment Seungcheol is sitting next to you and in the moment after he gently wraps his arms around you, your head falling perfectly against his shoulder while your arms snake around his waist after a moment's hesitation. 

His warm touch soothes your back as his other hand cups the back of your head, softly stroking it with his thumb. A small whimper comes from your mouth as quiet sobs escape from you and you hide your face and weep, trying to stifle the sounds.

"I am so sorry, _____. I am sorry for everything." Seungcheol whispers, voice thick with emotion. "I will make everything better, I promise. I will stay as long as you need me and then… " There is a moment of heavy pause. "When you don't, I will follow you around like a lost puppy for the rest of my life." Thinking about the rest of your life and not having Seungcheol in it makes you sob harder and if you had energy you would scream at him and tell him to just shut up. Instead, you cry, cry your heart out, promising yourself that from tomorrow you won't. 

Tomorrow another battle begins. 

As the night grows deeper, Seungcheol holds you tighter and your sobs gradually fade and before you know it you fall asleep on his shoulder. Seungcheol stays still for a while longer to make sure you don't wake up before gently picking up your sleeping form and setting you down on the bed, fixing the pillow underneath your head and covering you with a blanket. Despite his desire to crawl into bed and sleep next to you, he resists it and instead takes the loveseat in front of the window, where he sits and watches your peacefully sleeping form, before falling asleep himself with a heart full of gratitude.

— You watch the steam from the mug evaporate into the air before taking a small sip. The tea is slightly bitter and hot, just as you need it.

After waking up and taking a quick shower, here you sit, by the window of your penthouse suite, sipping tea, treating yourself to a quiet peaceful moment before your hectic day, which you are frankly not prepared for, begins. 

You woke up to an empty suite, with no sign of Seungcheol and it almost made you wonder if last night was an entire elaborate dream. But then you found his tie lying on the loveseat which acted as a reassurance of his presence, weirdly bringing solace to you. 

After waking up, you realised your phone's battery is dead, which became another source of peace for you, because you know otherwise, it would have been blowing up with calls and you wouldn't have gotten the good night's sleep that you got. 

There's a sudden sound of the door opening that alerts you, making you crane your neck to see the visitor. Seungcheol walks in, dressed completely differently from last night, looking delicious in a light blue polo and white pants. On his hands are two shopping bags and behind him is a hotel staff member who pushes in a huge breakfast trolley. "Good morning, _____." Seungcheol meets your eye as he sets down the shopping bags on the edge of the bed and thanks the staff as he takes his leave.  You watch Seungcheol take off the lids covering the food while speaking, "Breakfast is here. I have asked for a bit of everything you like. And I have got new clothes and some necessities for you. They are in the bag," He points to the general direction as he starts stacking pancakes on a plate for you. You are quite surprised and flattered and you cannot come up with anything else to say but, "Thank you."

For some weird reason, you feel shy and awkward around him as if you are a newborn fawn. Maybe it is because none of you are addressing the elephant in the room; last night's conversation and instead acting like you have known each other for years. "It's my pleasure," he smiles at you, a genuine smile that shows his dimples and makes your heart gallop like a horse. Handing you the plate, he takes a comfortable seat in the chair in front of you and watches you dig in, a look you can only describe as fondness sitting on his face. Feeling shy, you cover your mouth as you chew. "Stop looking at me." 

"You look a bit tired. Did you not sleep well?" He asks suddenly.  "I had a good sleep, thank you." You inform, surprised how he noticed.  You have been feeling a little sick after you woke up despite having a very good night's rest. A headache has been creeping up on your temples but you are trying hard to ignore it because this is not the time to get sick.

You have a long day ahead of you.

Making you jerk, Seungcheol places his palm on your forehead out of the blue as he checks your temperature and an unpleasant look settles on his face. "You are getting a fever." "No, I'm not." You direct your focus on cutting your pancakes, using too much pressure. Ignoring you, the man dials a number on his phone and asks for some cold medicine to be brought to the hotel room to whoever is on the other side. "I just told you, I am fine." You frown, annoyed. He hangs up and stares at you as if you are speaking a different language. "You are not. You need to take the medicine and get some rest."

"Now is not the time for me to sleep! Do not play doctor!" You snap, setting the plate down with a loud bang as you clutch the fork and knife tightly in your hand. Seungcheol does not react to your outburst but simply changes position as he comes to sit next to you.

"Your cousin is in custody. I talked with your lawyer this morning, he is preparing everything well. There is no way he is getting off. Jihoon and his men already testified to the police so you do not have to meet with them unless you want to add something. If you do, I will arrange a phone call with the station. The legal department is working on a statement and it will be released today in a press conference. The CFO will read it out." He informs, casually. 

"You are sick, _____. And it's okay .You went through a lot. It is okay if you take a break today. No one is asking you to go out there and face the demons. You need to rest. Your body is asking for it." 

His voice softens as one of his hands comes to rest on your thigh gently. The assurance in his voice paired with the tenderness in his eyes makes you swallow a lump in your throat and blink back tears. "Still..."

"Finish your breakfast." He says as he reaches for the plate while taking the fork and knife out of your hand and cutting it into bite sized pieces. "And you should probably call your brother today, by the way. The news of last night's events will reach him sooner or later and I think it would be best if he heard it from you."

You nod, feeling sad. Chan just left for a vacation one week ago. When he hears about this, he will definitely catch the next flight home.

"If you do not want to call him, I can do it for you." Seungcheol offers as he finishes his task and hands the plate and cutlery back to you.

"No, I will do it." You murmur and silently go back to eating. Seungcheol watches you in silence for the rest of the meal and after you are done, the staff returns to clean up and drops your medicines. You take them and then sit in your bed idly, watching the city skyline through your window, trying not to overthink anything. You can hear Seungcheol talk over the phone in the other room before he steps back into the master bedroom to check up on you.

"If you feel too sick, let me know. I will take you to the hospital." 

You softly nod and turn your head to look at him. He appears worried, his eyes glazed with concern, his brows forming a knot as if he's trying to read you. After a moment, you silently motion him to come sit by you on the bed which he diligently follows. 

His hands reach out to hold yours, his thumb gently stroking your skin as he gazes into your eyes, leaning closer to you, his eyes searching for something in yours. His bangs fall forward, cupping his temples and you itch to brush them away.  "Tell me what you are thinking." He whispers.

"You have pretty hair." You reply honestly and he chuckles, shaking his head before his face becomes serious.  "I missed you." His voice is low, almost inaudible as his gaze falls down to your linked hands, as if he is ashamed to meet your eyes when saying that. "I missed you too." You reply honestly, once again. Seungcheol seems surprised to hear that and you cannot help but roll your eyes.

"Oh please, Choi Seungcheol. Don't act like you had no idea." Your head rests against the headboard as you make yourself comfortable and scowl at him. "You knew very well how much effect you had on me and you knew damn well how much I loved you."

"Loved me?"

"Okay, love you—"

"Wait, no— you...love me? Really? You didn't say it that night in the heat of the moment?" You only realise then how you just casually spat it out, again, and immediately, heat blooms on your face. You avoid his gaze, snatching your hands from his grip while he looks absolutely stunned.

"Whatever." You mutter, scooting down on the bed, reaching to grab the sheets and hide yourself in them but Seungcheol stops you as he cages you between his arms, his face hovering dangerously close to yours, his perfume and aftershave blending into an addictive scent that makes your brain hazy with need.

Control yourself, woman! "Answer me. You love me?" "Ugh, you heard me the first time," you groan, trying to twist away from him but he stops you by cupping your chin and making you face him. 

"Wanna know something?" He whispers, inching his face closer.

"What?" You are breathless.

"I love you too, ____." He replies, his lips ghosting over yours. You anticipate a kiss but he doesn't, instead tucks your hair behind your ear as he whispers in your ear. "I am so deeply, madly in love with you it is embarrassing."

The words are music to your ears and your insides swoon as you close your eyes and relish them, pressing your lips tight to prevent yourself from breaking into a maniacal grin. Seungcheol shifts his weight back and rests himself on his one palm as his other hand softly cups your face. "And I am sorry, once again, for what I did to you."

"Good but I am still mad." You try your best to appear stern.

"I know." His expression is solemn. "I plan on making it up to you until my dying breath."

When did he become so romantic?

"You may start by cuddling me," you whisper, almost shy, carefully watching his reaction. He immediately proceeds to get under the sheets with you and carefully engulfs you into his large arms, your face resting against his solid chest as his hand strokes your hair soothingly. Your arms move to snake around his waist as you feel yourself relax, his arms feeling like the safest, most comfortable place in the entire universe and you never, ever want to leave.

"I love you, Seungcheol." Your voice is muffled against his chest.

"I love you more, angel. So much more."

1 month later 

The view around the cabin is just as pretty as you remember it. The setting sun of dusk casts it in a beautiful glow which you stop and stand to admire. 

Beside you, Seungcheol finishes parking the jeep and unloads the overnight bags from the trunk. 

"What are you looking at?" He asks when he comes to stand next to you, fishing for keys from his pocket in one hand.

"It's very beautiful." You murmur, eyes glancing over the view before settling down on the man next to you. He is dressed in a grey t-shirt, his blond hair looking as gorgeous as ever, if not more in the golden hour and you know, he is undoubtedly the epitome of beauty. 

Seungcheol meets your stare with equal sincerity as he reaches to hold your hand, whispering. "Yes, it is." You know he is talking about you.

A light, gleeful laugh escapes your lips as you playfully push him with your shoulder. He grins and drags you with him inside the cabin.

It is hard to believe that this place was a crime scene about a month ago. Seungcheol did some thorough renovations and now the place looks more beautiful, cozier than ever.

As much as your heart wishes to stay in this little piece of green heaven forever, this is a small weekend getaway that Seungcheol organised and initiated by picking you up early from work today. You did not complain because the past few weeks were tough.

Getting your company back together after the fundraiser's incident and making sure you are still in the market is taking a lot of well thought plans and manpower and instructions. You have help, of course, from Chan who immediately rushed home from his vacation when he heard about Jun's attack on you. Seungcheol also has been helping you a lot, though you officially denied him the position of your bodyguard. 

He then started working as a security consultant at his friend's company and has been assisting you however he could throughout the past month. He also started therapy again and so far his progress is remarkable. He is a lot less self sabotaging and he has not had a nightmare ever since you got back together, much like you. Not to mention he has been working extra hard to make it up to you, always catering to your every little need and never asking for anything in return or initiating anything, even though you have noticed multiple times how his eyes trail you around hungrily. 

So far, you have only rewarded him with kisses because it was too much fun to watch him silently suffer.  However, you plan to change that this weekend.

"Let's watch the sunset together," you propose as Seungcheol drops your bags in the bedroom. He agrees and you two walk back outside to the patio, hands linked where you stand and gaze at the setting sun. Seungcheol's arms wrap around you protectively from behind and his chin comes to rest on your shoulder.

"We need to get groceries." He murmurs absentmindedly as he presses a soft kiss on your neck that makes you sigh in pleasure. You hum, offering that you could just order takeout. As the sun dips beneath the horizon, Seungcheol takes occasional peeks at your face, admiring the mesmerised look in your eyes. His heart beats loudly, wild in love as he imagines the rest of his life with you and how it would be to watch you watch the sunset.

Delightful. Like the delightful secret he is hiding. A huge secret that has been burning holes in his pocket for a month.  After the night of the attack, the next morning when he went to shop for your clothes at the mall, a ring caught his eye in a jewellery store and he purchased it right there, intent on putting it on your finger someday.

He has been carrying it ever since, waiting for the perfect moment to get down on one knee.  Maybe this weekend will carry that moment, maybe not.

Either way, it is fine. He is not in a rush. He knows he will get down on one knee when he deems himself worthy enough of you. Though, logically it might never happen because no one is worthy of a person as beautiful, as amazing as you. But he will work very hard to be worthy of you, now and every day that he has on this planet. Seungcheol smiles to himself, agreeing that he's a very lucky bastard. "Cheol?" You call him by his nickname, breaking his train of thought. "Hm?" "I love you." You whisper. His next words are the sweetest serenade. "I love you more, angel."

A/N: If you have made it this far, congratulations and a huge thank you for taking the time to read this mammoth of a fic! I genuinely put my blood, sweat and tears into this and believe me when I tell you that my wrists hurt like hell. Still, I am glad I could share this with the world and I'm very proud of myself for successfully putting the conjectural idea from my head to the paper. It took a lot of time to come up with the idea, finalize it and stitch the pieces together so please leave a review and reblog! Your thoughts and comments really make my day. Wishing you a happy October! As a side note, I am swearing off of writing fics over 20k words. When I tell you that this app whopped my ass while posting this! My god! I was seriously considering breaking it into two parts. If you are reading this now that means I have hopefully posted it without trouble. Anyway, toodles!

© startlightxsvt 2023 | All rights reserved. Do not copy, repost, translate, adapt, or repurpose any of my works.

[ohburgee]

(Peeks out of window this time around)

Salutions, once again! Before I request something, I just wanna say that you don't need to apologize for taking time or needing a break!! I like when creatives, like yourself, take their time / take a break, it's very important to sort out IRL stuff before continuing on with creating stuff. I'm also often busy IRL myself, so I do get that, no worries!!

Now, as for the request; Chance x Unlucky! Reader.

Like, you're the most unluckiest person on the whole survivor group [Some survivors even betted on if you got forsakened by pure accident.]

Either you: 1. Die in the first seconds of the match because you started off not far from killer's location. 2. And if you didn't die, you have to live on like 10 HP the entire round because you had to be first one to be targeted, and unfortunately, everytime you can't find Elliot/Builderman the entire round, medkits are no where to be found or someone already used a medkit and can't help you.

However, you still try to be appriciative for small things even if a mountain of unfortunate events piles up on you, past and present, because it can't just get any worse, right??

So, you tried to protect Chance that round, seeing he's in trouble and nobody is around to help him... That doesn't end well for you. [You still have that lingering feeling of gashing wound on your stomach after that round, but hey! Look on the bright side, Chance survived!]

-- Window Anon

an: Oh, it's you again, Window Anon! Nice to see you requesting again :> Thank you for your concern, I took your words to heart. I hope you too take care of yourself and take a break, eat, and comfort yourself <3 Sorry for… No, actually, thank you for your silly requests! I hope you wait patiently for this. 🩷

𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞

Chance x Unlucky!Reader

tw: violence, self-sacrifice

You lose a few HP from that intense chase with Mafioso. As you run around searching for a medkit to heal yourself, you find nothing. Minutes pass, and still, there's no medkit in sight.

Now, you can only hope to stumble across Elliot or Builderman to heal you, but that won’t happen. After all, you are the unluckiest survivor in this game. Every time you find something to improve your chances, you somehow end up worse off.

You sigh and keep looking when you suddenly hear footsteps. Your eyes catch sight of someone, Chance. He’s wounded, his hands pressed against his injury as he searches for help.

Then, you see Mafioso approaching him, ready to strike. Your instincts scream at you to intervene. It’s a stupid idea, you know that. There's no way you'll be able to save Chance, and yet, you feel a powerful urge to try.

Without thinking, you sprint toward them. Mafioso draws closer, his weapon poised to attack. He notices you charging toward him, but you don’t stop. You throw yourself in front of Chance, spreading your arms wide to shield him.

You brace yourself for the inevitable. Death is certain, but at least this way, you’ll protect Chance.

Pain explodes through you as Mafioso’s blade plunges into your stomach. You don’t fight back. Instead, you use the last of your strength to shove him away from Chance. Mafioso looks at you, eyes widening in surprise at your acceptance of this fate.

Chance turns just in time to see what you've done. Mafioso groans in frustration, yanks his sword from your body, and pushes you aside. You collapse onto the ground, struggling to rise, determined to protect Chance again.

Before Mafioso can strike once more, Chance pulls out his gun and stuns him. The round ends.

Mafioso sighs in irritation and steps back, leaving the scene. Chance looks around, then turns his gaze to you, helpless, bleeding out on the ground.

You smile faintly, barely registering the game's conclusion. Your vision blurs, dizziness taking over. Just before everything fades to black, you see Chance rushing toward you. Then, your eyes close.

...

Chance carries you to the cabin, shouting for Elliot. The moment Elliot sees you in Chance’s arms, he acts quickly, guiding Chance to place you on the sofa. He examines your wound while Builderman moves to treat Chance’s injuries.

An hour later, Elliot successfully stabilizes you. Chance remains by your side, sitting behind the sofa as you rest, unconscious.

...

Days later, you finally wake up. The first thing you see is Chance, leaning back in a chair with his head tilted to the side, fast asleep.

Slowly, you sit up, staring at him. Confusion washes over you. You’re alive? How?

You always die. Luck has never been on your side.

Your thoughts spiral, but a soft snore pulls you from your overthinking. You glance at Chance, still peacefully sleeping, and a smile creeps onto your face.

You chuckle softly, realizing how rare this moment is.

With a sigh, you lay back down, savoring the quiet. Once more, you look at Chance, still deep in slumber. You smile again, letting yourself enjoy the peaceful moment while it lasts.

[valentiyne]

𝗆𝗒 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗋𝗂𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗍 ᥫ᭡ 𝖻𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗒 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝗇𝖾𝗌

Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: In the heart of Avengers Tower, you are unexpectedly paired with a reclusive Bucky Barnes for a quiet city mission that turns into something far too personal. As the two navigate tight quarters, hidden threats, and lingering trauma, a fragile trust begins to form in the spaces between silence.

Warnings: Mild cursing & mentions of Bucky's trauma

Word Count: 4.3k (not proofread)

Copyright © 2025 Valentiyne. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

The day they brought the Winter Soldier in, I heard the doors to the sublevel medical bay slam open like someone was breaking in. Alarms didn’t go off, so I assumed it was fine. Mostly.

Tony’s voice echoed through the corridors, brisk and sarcastic, a tone I’d come to associate with anything out of his control. Steve’s quieter, more urgent voice followed, trailing behind like a leash trying to hold back a pit bull.

I didn’t see him that day. Just heard the noise.

He stayed below the surface for weeks, buried like a secret in the foundation of the Tower. Nobody said his name unless they had to. I didn’t ask questions. Being the second youngest member of the team had its perks: I wasn’t expected to know everything, and most people assumed I was better off not knowing anything at all.

Still, I caught whispers.

Nightmares. Damage control. Deprogramming.

Hydra.

The word sat like a splinter in the air every time it was said. Everyone felt it. Especially Steve.

I saw him, Bucky, maybe three times. Once, early in the morning, when I shuffled into the kitchen half-asleep and found him sitting at the counter. Silent. Hunched over a cup of black coffee he didn’t seem to be drinking. He didn’t look at me, and I didn’t look at him, not really. Just enough to clock the metal arm resting on the counter. My breath caught in my throat, but I didn’t bolt. That was my victory.

I grabbed a banana and walked out.

The second time, I was coming back from training. The hallway lights flickered, a glitch they said they were fixing, and I saw his silhouette at the end of the corridor. He didn’t move when I passed. Just stood there, half in shadow, watching me like I was some flickering signal he couldn’t quite make sense of.

The third time, I swear he nodded. It might’ve been my imagination. But something shifted. A blink of recognition.

But no one let him near me.

Tony said it was precautionary. “Kid, it’s not about trust. It’s about, y’know, surviving to see your twenty-first birthday. No hard feelings.”

I pretended to agree.

It was a Thursday when everything changed.

I was up early, too early, slumped at the counter with a bowl of soggy cereal. Nat was drinking black coffee and watching the news with that half lidded boredom she always had in the morning. Clint was nursing a hangover on the couch

Tony strolled in last, sunglasses on indoors like always, holding a cup labeled “WORLD’S OKAYEST GENIUS.”

“Morning,” he said, flicking the TV off with a remote I didn’t even know existed. “Big announcement. Sort of.”

Everyone turned to look at him. Even Clint, who groaned like moving physically hurt.

Steve came in behind him, face already locked in a tight frown.

Tony clapped his hands. “Alright, hear me out, and don’t throw a vibranium shield at my face yet, Cap. I think it’s time Barnes sees a shrink.”

Silence.

Nat arched an eyebrow. “He already is.”

“A real one,” Tony replied. “Not whatever Soviet era hypnosis Steve is trying to pass off as emotional progress.”

Steve crossed his arms. “He doesn’t need a psychiatrist. He needs time.”

“Steve,” Tony said, almost too gently. “It’s been two months. Two months of isolation, nightmare episodes, and one panic attack that almost blew out the med bay’s glass. I don’t want to be the guy who says ‘I told you so’ when Barnes freaks out and throws someone off the balcony.”

Steve’s jaw clenched.

“He’s not ready for normal life,” he said. “And you don’t get to decide what recovery looks like.”

Tony raised his hands. “I’m not trying to start a war, Spangles. Just saying...professional help might be good for him. We’re not therapists. We’re barely functioning people.”

“Speak for yourself,” Clint muttered from the couch, raising a limp arm. “I’ve been emotionally stable since 2014.”

Tony didn’t laugh. His expression turned more serious. “Look, the guy deserves help. And whether you want to admit it or not, he trusts you too much to say when he’s drowning.”

Steve didn’t respond. His knuckles went white against the countertop.

I felt invisible in moments like this. Half kid, half soldier, not old enough to be part of the “real” conversations, but too embedded to look away.

Tony finally broke the silence. “I’m scheduling a consult. He doesn’t have to go. But the option should be there. That’s all I’m saying.”

Steve walked out before he could finish.

That night, I couldn’t sleep.

I kept hearing something, soft thuds in the hallway, a door creaking open. I sat up in bed, listening.

Then came the screaming.

Muffled. Low. Pained.

My heart raced as I crept out of bed, careful not to make a sound. The hallway was dark, save for the faint emergency lights that ran low along the walls. I followed the noise toward the lower guest quarters, near the elevators they kept locked down.

Then, silence.

I almost turned back, until I saw a flicker of movement through the small window of one of the rooms.

His room.

The light inside was dim, but I could make out the shape of Bucky Barnes, sitting up in bed, both hands clenched in his damp sweat filled hair, shoulders shaking.

He looked… lost.

I didn’t knock. Didn’t speak. Just stood there.

Eventually, he looked up.

Our eyes met through the glass. For a moment, it felt like time paused.He didn’t say anything. Neither did I.

But he didn’t look away.

He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t violent. But he looked haunted.

Like something inside him had broken loose and clawed its way to the surface.

My chest tightened. And then, like a coward, I turned and ran.

The hallway seemed longer in the dark, lights flickering as my socked feet pattered against polished floors, arms tucked tight to my chest like that might keep the fear from spilling out. I didn’t stop until I was back in my room, door closed, back pressed to the wood as I slid down and sat on the cold floor.

I didn’t tell anyone.

Not because I wanted to protect him, necessarily, I didn’t even know him, but because I knew what Tony would do if he found out. And I knew what it felt like to constantly have nightmares. Nightmares of my life before the tower. Tony would punish Bucky.

Back to isolation. Back to sublevel lockdowns and reinforced doors and whispered speculation.

And even though I barely understood the man, I knew he didn’t deserve that.

So I stayed quiet.

Even when I passed him in the hallway two days later, coffee mug cradled in my hands as I headed to the lounge. Even when I felt his stare crawl across the side of my face. I didn’t say a word.

Didn’t even glance at him.

The team meeting was held in the main briefing room. Floor to ceiling glass walls, too many touchscreens, and chairs that cost more than my education.

I stood up front beside Tony, who was tapping through holographic files like he was picking a playlist instead of choosing who might die next week. Steve stood beside him, arms folded, stern as ever.

Behind me, I felt eyes burning a hole through the back of my skull.

I didn’t need to turn around to know it was him.

Bucky.

I shifted my weight, fingers curling into my sleeves, trying to ignore the electricity crawling up my spine.

Tony flicked a file closed and clapped his hands once. “Alright, kids, here’s the breakdown. We’ve got a recon mission in Prague. Quiet op, surveillance only, don’t get noticed, don’t start a war. Clint and Nat, you’re our shadows on the rooftops. Steve, Bruce, you’re handling the eastern perimeter. No Hulk unless provoked.”

Bruce made a face but nodded. Tony scrolled to the last file.

“Thor and Strange are off world, Peter’s on a field trip, and Spiderbaby's aunt gets real pissed when I drag him out of algebra. So that leaves… our in house intern.” He looked at me. “You’re staying home.”

My mouth parted.

“What? Why?” I said, voice sharper than intended.

Tony shrugged like it wasn’t personal. “Peter’s not here. I’m not sending you alone.”

“But you’re sending Clint and Nat!"

“They’re walking death machines. You’re barely twenty.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“Didn’t say you were. But I don’t trust you not to try and impress anyone and get shot in the face.”

Steve’s voice cut in. “She’s trained.”

Tony raised a brow. “And?”

“She’s ready.”

Tony scoffed. “Oh come on, Steve. We’re not doing this.”

“She’s not a rookie. She’s been here longer than Peter. She’s already done the work. What’s the point of letting her train with us if you keep treating her like furniture?”

My heart beat so loud I barely heard them over it.

“She’s not ready.”

“You don’t get to decide that.”

“She’s not regulated, Steve,” Tony snapped, the easy charm dropping from his voice. “She’s not licensed, she’s not on any agency’s roster, and if something goes wrong overseas, guess who gets blamed? Not you. Not me. Her. I’m not throwing her into a war zone to prove a point.”

Silence.

My face burned. I wanted to scream. Instead, I clenched my jaw and stared straight ahead.

Then a voice from the back of the room, low and smooth and cold like metal on ice:

“Send her with me.”

I turned so fast it made me dizzy.

Bucky stood in the shadows near the back wall, arms crossed over his chest, jaw locked, eyes fixed on Tony.

The entire room stiffened.

Tony blinked. “I’m sorry. What?”

“You won’t send her alone. Fine. Send her with me.”

Steve looked between us.

Tony exhaled through his nose and muttered, “And here I was thinking today would be boring.”

The car ride was quiet.

Painfully quiet.

The kind where the air feels heavier with every passing block, every streetlight flashing ghost-like across the windshield. The city blurred outside , neon signs, rain slick pavement, crowds of strangers who had no idea the kind of chaos that sat just beneath the surface.

I sat stiffly in the passenger seat, hands clasped in my lap. Every so often I glanced at him...Bucky, behind the wheel, eyes focused ahead, his expression unreadable. His fingers, both flesh and metal, tapped rhythmically against the steering wheel. It might’ve been nerves. It might’ve been habit.

But he hadn’t said a single word.

Before we left, everyone had looked at me like I was walking into a lion’s den. Bruce gave me a protein bar. Natasha handed me a small blade she said Tony didn’t need to know about. Clint whispered, “Be cool. He’s not gonna kill you. Probably.”

But it was Steve who stopped me just before the elevator doors closed. His hand caught my arm gently, his expression lined with concern.

“If anything goes wrong,” he said under his breath, “if he starts to go sideways… you call for backup.”

I swallowed hard and nodded, though the words throbbed in the back of my skull now like a warning bell.

Sideways.

The word hadn’t left me since.

I snapped back to the present as the car slowed in front of a glowing tower of glass and chrome. A hotel. Fancy. Too many floors. Too many places to hide.

He pulled up to the valet with practiced ease and shifted the car into park. Then, finally, he spoke.

“We’ll stop here for the night.”

His voice was low and rough, like it hadn’t been used in hours.

I looked up at the building, heart thudding.

“Why here?”

His jaw tightened slightly as he glanced up at the hotel’s facade.

“Thief’s in there,” he said. “Probably in the casino. Last ping from the tracker Tony set up puts them inside this place. Room’s booked under a burner name. You and I check in, keep eyes open. Tomorrow, we move.”

I blinked. “You want us to stay in the same hotel as the guy who stole the crystal?”

He looked at me. “We’ll be less noticeable in the crowd than on the street.”

I hesitated, then nodded.

Fine.

We stepped out of the car together, the bellhop eyeing Bucky’s duffle bag like it might explode. I moved quickly, forcing my limbs to act like this was normal. Just another mission. Just another hotel.

The hotel glowed like money.

Warm gold lighting, sparkling chandeliers, and soft classical music piping through the air vents, the kind of place that catered to high stakes gamblers and people with clean shoes. Bucky looked like he didn’t belong, but no one dared to stop him. His face was carved from stone, eyes flat, jaw locked like he was chewing on a threat.

We walked up to the front desk, and he dropped the forged ID and Stark’s burner card without a word. The clerk, a woman in a navy blazer with a name tag that read Michelle, clicked her perfectly manicured nails against the keyboard and hummed.

“I’m sorry,” she said after a moment. “We’re nearly full for the weekend. We’ve got a luxury suite with a king bed and pullout couch, or… two single bed rooms. But those are on separate floors.”

I watched Bucky’s jaw tighten.

“No connecting rooms?” he asked, voice like gravel.

Michelle shook her head with an apologetic smile. “Afraid not.”

He exhaled through his nose like someone punched him in the ribs. Then turned slightly toward me, lips thinning.

“One room,” he said under his breath, like the words tasted wrong. “We’ll take the suite.”

Michelle beamed and swiped the card.

I stayed quiet. It wasn’t my call.

We made it to the elevators with a faint chime following us, the kind that sounded fancier than it needed to be. Once inside, Bucky jabbed the button for the twelfth floor hard enough to make the panel beep twice.

“You can have the bed,” he muttered. “I’ll take the couch.”

I glanced at him. “I don’t mind...”

“Not up for debate.”

I swallowed the rest of my sentence and looked at the scrolling numbers above the door.

Then, just as they started to slide shut, a hand shot between the gap.

The doors bounced open again.

A man stepped in.

Late 30s. Slick suit. Sunglasses indoors. He reeked of cologne and overconfidence, and he didn’t hesitate before sliding in right beside me, too close. His shoulder brushed mine.

I stiffened. My eyes flicked toward Bucky instinctively.

Bucky didn’t say anything. But I saw it, the side eye, the slight twitch of his fingers at his side. His stance widened almost imperceptibly, like his whole body tensed.

“Evening,” the man said with a too-wide grin, eyes flicking between us. “Y’all here for the convention?”

My stomach knotted.

“There’s no convention,” I said carefully.

He blinked. “You sure? Coulda sworn I saw signs..."

Then I felt it. The quiet shuffle.

Bucky’s hand came to rest at the small of my back. Firm, steady, not pushing, but guiding. He shifted, smoothly placing his body between me and the man, like he was just readjusting himself.

I stepped back, behind him without protest, pulse quickening.

The man kept talking.

“You two together?” he asked, leaning around Bucky slightly to try and make eye contact. “Not judging, just..."

Bucky turned his head, slow and deliberate.

“Yes,” he said flatly. No inflection. Just a word dropped like a hammer.

The man held his hands up in mock surrender, chuckling under his breath.

The elevator kept climbing. The silence turned sour.

When we reached the eleventh floor, the man stepped off. He gave a lazy wave and muttered, “Well, enjoy the suite,” before the doors closed again.

Bucky didn’t move until we were alone.

Then he finally exhaled and muttered, “That guy rubbed me the wrong way.” His hand finally moved from the small of my back, and for some reason, I missed when it was still there.

“You think he was our thief?”

“Doubt it. Too loud. But I don’t like surprises.”

The elevator chimed and the doors opened to the twelfth floor.

We stepped into the hallway in silence, the plush carpet muffling our steps as we made our way to the suite.

“Seriously though,” I said after a moment, voice quieter now. “Thanks. For, y’know… doing the whole ‘bodyguard’ thing.”

He didn’t look at me. Just slid the key card into the door.

“Don’t thank me,” he said. “Just stay behind me when things go bad.”

The hotel suite was big. Sleek, modern, and too quiet. A king sized bed sat centered against the far wall, sheets crisp and undisturbed. There was a velvet couch near the window and a minibar no one dared touch. It all felt staged, like a showroom, not a place people lived.

I stepped in first, tossed my backpack near the foot of the bed, and rolled my shoulders with a sigh. The tension from the elevator hadn’t left my body yet, still simmering under my skin.

Bucky followed close behind, but he didn’t slow down.

Instead of dropping his own bag, he went straight to work.

He moved silently, gliding from one end of the room to the other, checking every door, every cabinet. He opened the bathroom door, flicked the light on, then off. Looked behind the shower curtain. He opened the closet, pressed the wall, then shut it again. He moved to the dresser drawers, slid them open, checked under the bed. All without saying a word.

I stood in the center of the room, watching him.

“You expecting someone?” I asked, trying for lightness, but my voice came out too soft.

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he crossed the room to the window, a tall glass panel that overlooked a tangle of glowing rooftops and streetlights far below. With quiet precision, he undid the lock and opened it just a crack. A breeze slipped through, cool and metallic.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

He didn’t turn around.

“I always need an escape route,” he said, like it was obvious. “In case they come back.”

I blinked. “They?”

He was quiet for a beat too long. The wind stirred the curtains.

“Hydra,” he said finally. “Or anyone who thinks I belong to them.”

The words hung heavy in the air.

I looked down at the carpet, heart tightening in my chest. The weight in his voice wasn’t just fear, it was preparation. Like he’d already played out the scenario a dozen times in his head. Like he expected it.

“You’re not theirs anymore,” I said quietly.

He still didn’t look at me.

“You’re safe here,” I added, firmer this time.

He let the curtain fall back into place and locked the window again.

“Maybe,” he muttered, more to himself than me.

Then he stepped back, eyes finally meeting mine, not hard or angry, just… tired. Like the kind of tired that no amount of sleep could fix.

For a moment, neither of us said anything.

I rubbed my hands down my arms and nodded toward the couch. “Still want it?”

He looked at it, then at me.

“You can have the bed,” I offered again. “Seriously.”

He moved toward the couch and dropped his duffle bag beside it.

“I’ve slept on worse.”

There was no bravado in it. Just a simple fact.

I didn’t push.

I went to unzip my bag, letting the soft sound fill the space between us, and Bucky crouched down to remove a small pistol from his boot, setting it within reach on the end table before slowly lowering himself onto the couch.

He didn’t turn on the TV. Didn’t pick up a phone. Just leaned back, metal arm across his chest, eyes on the ceiling.

I pulled my bag toward the bed and started digging for my pajamas, acutely aware of the man sitting a few feet away on the couch. His presence filled the room like gravity, silent, heavy, impossible to ignore.

Still, I moved like I would at home. Carefully casual.

I disappeared into the bathroom to change, pulling on a pair of pink Hello Kitty pajama pants, faded from too many washes, fraying slightly at the drawstring. I topped it off with one of Peter’s old oversized Stark Industries t-shirts, stolen during laundry roulette a few months back and never returned. It smelled like soap and nostalgia.

When I stepped back into the room, towel drying my damp face, Bucky looked up from where he sat on the couch, one brow lifting in visible judgment.

“Nice shirt,” he said, voice edged with dry sarcasm. “Very intimidating.”

I blinked, then glanced down. “Oh. Yeah. It’s Peter’s.”

His expression shifted, subtle but noticeable, a twitch of his mouth, a slight tilt of his head.

“S'you two dating?”

The question caught me off guard. Not because he asked, but because he sounded… cautious. Not jealous. Just curious in a way I didn’t expect from him.

I snorted and walked toward the bed, flopping back onto the mattress with a bounce.

“God, no,” I said. “Never.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow.

“He’s not my type,” I added, smirking slightly. “Way too sunshiney. And he talks too much. And he uses the word ‘bro’ unironically.”

That earned me the faintest twitch of a smile from him.

Just a flicker. There and gone.

I settled back against the pillows, curling the covers over my legs as the city buzzed faintly through the closed window. Bucky leaned his head back against the couch cushion, exhaling slowly through his nose.

“What is your type, then?” he asked after a moment.

I looked at him, surprised again. But this time, I didn’t deflect.

I thought for a second.

“Someone quiet,” I said finally. “Maybe a little broken. But trying. Someone who doesn’t make me feel like I need to talk just to fill the silence.”

His eyes flicked over to me, unreadable.

Then he nodded once.

“Huh." The bed was softer than I expected.

I curled beneath the hotel comforter, one arm tucked under my cheek as I watched the soft light above cast faint shadows across the ceiling. The curtains were mostly drawn, the room dim, but not dark, not really.

That was by design.

Bucky hadn’t turned the lights off.

He sat on the edge of the couch, elbows resting on his knees, the tension still written into the lines of his back like he hadn’t exhaled in days. His metal fingers tapped slowly against the armrest, a soft, metallic rhythm in the quiet.

I blinked over at him, groggy but aware. “You’re not gonna sleep?”

He shook his head once. “Not yet.”

“You can sleep, y’know. I won’t let anyone stab you in your sleep.”

A faint snort, the closest thing I’d heard to a laugh from him all day.

“I’m keeping watch.”

I frowned, pushing up slightly on one elbow. “Why?”

He didn’t answer at first.

Then, "Because someone should.”

I let the silence stretch, watching him from the bed. The steady clink of his fingers on the armrest continued. There was no fear in his face, not in the traditional sense. But there was wariness. A wired kind of stillness, like he didn’t trust the world to stay put while he closed his eyes.

“…You’re safe here,” I murmured again, softer this time. “We both are.”

He didn’t look at me. Just said, “That’s what the last place said too.”

That one hit something inside me.

I settled back onto the pillow, watching him in the dim glow of the room. His shoulders were still squared, eyes fixed on the door.

“You really gonna sit up all night?”

“Better me than you.”

I wanted to say more. Something comforting. Something wise. But the truth was, there was no quick fix for that kind of wound. He wasn’t just watching the door. He was watching the ghosts he knew might show up, because in his life, they always had.

“…Alright,” I whispered after a moment, letting my eyes fall shut. “But wake me up halfway. We’ll take turns.”

No reply.

But a few seconds later, the soft ticking of his metal fingers stopped.

I was just starting to drift, muscles loosening, the steady hum of the city below sinking into the silence of the room, when his voice broke through the dark.

“Hey, kid…”

I blinked my eyes open and pushed up slowly on my elbows, squinting toward the couch.

Bucky was sitting forward again. But this time, his hand moved with purpose, reaching under the hem of his jacket. I watched, confused, as he unbuckled the holster strapped across his ribs and pulled his pistol free. He turned it in his hand once, checking the safety, and then reached toward the small nightstand beside the couch and laid it down with quiet care.

The sound of the metal against wood was soft, but final.

I sat up straighter in bed, blinking. “What are you doing?”

His expression didn’t change. But his jaw flexed.

“If you wake up,” he said slowly, “and I’m not… me, you know what to do.”

The air left my lungs in a quiet rush.

“What?” I asked, a little sharper than I meant to.

He didn’t repeat it.

Just looked at me.

And then, like I was stupid for even asking, he said flatly, “You know what I’m asking.”

I stared at the gun. Cold and matte black. Sitting right next to his elbow like some grim insurance policy.

My throat went tight.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “No, I’m not..."

“If something happens-"

“I’m not going to shoot you, Bucky.”

My voice cracked at the end. I didn’t mean for it to.

He looked down, jaw grinding like he wanted to argue, but what was there to say? He wasn’t asking to be dramatic. He wasn’t even scared. He was just prepared.

And that made it worse.

“I trust you,” I said after a long beat, softer now. “And if something does happen, I’ll handle it. But I’m not going to kill you just because you had a nightmare.”

He didn’t respond. Just leaned back again slowly, eyes dark and unreadable in the low light. He didn’t pick up the gun, though. He left it there. Between us.

“I don’t sleep easy,” he muttered.

“I know,” I whispered.

And with that, I laid back down. I didn’t sleep for a long time. I stared at the ceiling, listening to the hum of the vents and the low creak of his leather jacket as he shifted, maybe trying, and failing, to find peace.

The gun stayed where it was. A silent agreement neither of us fully acknowledged.

Bucky hadn’t moved in minutes. He sat leaning back into the couch cushions, one boot still on, head tilted slightly to the side.

I was almost sure he was still awake, until I heard it.

A soft, low sound. Snoring.

Just barely.

Like he hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but his body finally gave in.

I turned onto my side, curling in a little tighter, the sound of his breathing slow and steady in the dark. There was something strangely comforting about it, the weight of someone else’s presence. Someone who didn’t expect anything from me. Someone who might actually understand what it meant to live half on edge all the time.

And somehow, despite the mission, the strange hotel room, and the pistol sitting six feet away, I felt my eyes start to close.

Sleep came easier than I expected.

For once, neither of us woke up.

[flaresemily]

𝔹𝕒𝕥 𝕗𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕪 𝕩 𝕟𝕖𝕘𝕝𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣.

𝙽𝚎𝚣𝚞𝚔𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 : 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸

ᗰᗩՏTᗴᖇ ᒪIՏT : part 1 , part 2

@bunniotomia 𝗍һᥲᥒks 𝗍᥆ 𝗍һіs ᥲᥒgᥱᥣ і sһᥲᥣᥣ rᥱᥕᥲrძ ᥡ᥆ᥙ gᥙᥡs ᥕі𝗍һ 𝗍һіs ᥒᥱᥕ ⍴ᥲr𝗍 ۶🥳 ٩ as I promise.

і𝖿 ᥡ᥆ᥙ һᥲ᥎ᥱ ᥲᥒᥡ 𝗊ᥙᥱs𝗍і᥆ᥒs ᥡ᥆ᥙ ᥴᥲᥒ ᥲsk һᥱrᥱ ᥆r ᥙһ... ᥙsᥱ mᥡ іᥒᑲ᥆᥊? s᥆mᥱ𝗍һіᥒg ᥣіkᥱ 𝗍һᥲ𝗍 ᥡᥲᥡ. 𝗊ᥙіᥴk 𝗊ᥙᥱs𝗍і᥆ᥒ. һ᥆ᥕ ᥴᥲᥒ і ᥕᥲ𝗍ᥴһ 𝗍һᥱ ძᥴ ᥲᥒіmᥲ𝗍і᥆ᥒ. 𝗍һᥱ і 𝗍һіᥒk і𝗍's ȷᥙs𝗍іᥴᥱ ᥣᥱᥲgᥙᥱ ᥎s 𝗍ᥱᥱᥒ 𝗍і𝗍ᥲᥒs/𝗍і𝗍ᥲᥒs і ᥕᥲᥒᥒᥲ sᥱᥱ rᥲ᥎ᥱᥒ sһᥱ's mᥡ 𝖿ᥲ᥎᥆rі𝗍ᥱ sіᥒᥴᥱ і'm ᥲ kіძ. (ᥲᥒძ ძᥲmіᥲᥒ 𝗍᥆᥆)

Growling

That's what Alfred heard when he got knocked down by something or someone. Luckily his reflexes paid off. (Bruce drags him to take fighting classes with him when he's little) he takes the broom (that came out of nowhere call it the…✨ the power of a butler hand ✨) and swings it at the ‘thing’ that attacks him. As he manages to make some distance he looks at the ‘thing' and his eyes widen.

It was you. snarling with fangs bared, your body low and ready to pounce like a wild beast.

“[Name]... It's me Alfred…” he softly says. Before he could reach for you. You once again pounce at him snarling at him wanting to bite him. He used the broom stick and let you bite into it before once again got tackled by you. LUCKILY again the broom didn't break. (Cue to ep 1 or 2… demon slayer you know nezuko attacking tanjiro that scene)

“Please dear it's me Alfred! Alfred Pennyworth!” Alfred can feel his eyes pool with tears. Who wouldn't. The very own girl he cares about as if she was his own granddaughter. Why? Why must she become this…this monster!

“GYARGH!!” You snarl at him. Making your face closer and closer to him while your pink eyes shine brightly with slit in it.

Before you can break the stick that has been holding you. Someone came in and literally pulled you from your collar.

You thrash in the stranger's arms. Your claws try to claw the stranger's face. Before you can do that the stranger pins you to the floor. You growl and snarl at him again and again loudly. Trying to bite something.

“Alfred are you alright?” Alfred, who is still shaken from the situation, looks up. The stranger. With black hair and bright blue eyes.

He stepped into the room with the kind of swagger only someone with Kryptonian confidence and teenage rebellion could pull off. The first thing that caught the eye was his signature black leather jacket, sleeves pushed slightly up, worn open to show off the bold red and yellow ‘S’ shield stretched across his chest. The tight blue bodysuit underneath hugged his form, a subtle blend of utility and style, edged in black at the collar and sides.

Red gloves covered his hands, the glossy material catching the light as he adjusted the goggles perched atop his tousled black hair—a small, personal touch that added to the rugged charm of his look. His blue eyes sparkled with mischief and quiet power, a reminder that while he might play the role of the bad boy, he was still very much the Boy of Steel. (I ask chatGPT for this description you know?😞)

“Alfred are you alright?” Then step another boy who look a bit similar to the first boy

His jacket was a modern twist on his father’s legacy—a dark blue zip-up with red accents that formed the iconic “S” symbol across his chest. The sleeves were uneven, one rolled to the elbow, the other bunched at his wrist, giving him a casual, almost reckless air that matched the fire in his eyes.

His red cape fluttered behind him, not draped with heroic perfection like Superman's, but slightly frayed at the edges—like him, a little rough around the seams but full of promise.

And the fact that the second boy looks like he just finished fighting.

“Master Conner and master Jon!” Alfred exclaimed.

While you? Oh don't worry about it I don't forget you. You are still getting pin down by the first boy a.k.a Conner Kent.

“What's wrong with this one al?” Conner asked. Jon just looks at her.

Age :

Conner : 19

Jon : 17 (you know why later)

Before Alfred could answer you managed to push Conner away. And pounce on Jon. Jon who saw this quickly pin you back but this time on the wall.

You snarl at him. “Alright what happened to her! She looks like a beast?” you elbow Jon and turn around and somehow ‘someone' injects you with something and you fall unconscious.

All 3 of them were shocked. “Oh Sensei? What are you doing here?” Jon greet his ‘sensei’

“...how can a demon still be alive even in this timeline?” ‘Sensei’ said. “So…this is a demon? Like you told us?” ‘Sensei’ nods at Jon and pulls out a bamboo and ties it to her mouth.

“This way it prevents her from biting people. Let her rest. I already injected her with some wisteria poison. She was unconscious for a while but I must meet this Wayne family that your father recommended to me?” ‘Sensei’ said.

Timeskip

Bruce is talking with ‘Sensei’ while Conner is hanging out with Tim and Jon? Jon is lingering around Damian asking him questions.

And boy Damian is 🤏 this close to slap Jon. Then Bruce came out from his office with ‘Sensei'. “Yes I agree with you. I shall ask them to start training with you from now on” is what they heard from Bruce while ‘Sensei' nodded at him. “Good we must be prepared not all people can pass this. I hope your boys can be as good as the Kent brothers.” ‘Sensei' replied and walked away.

“Bye sensei~” Conner waves at him. ‘Sensei' stopped walking and turned towards him. “You still haven't passed that mountain test Conner. Come tomorrow with the other or else…” ‘Sensei' lavender eyes lock with Conner eyes and he flinches and he quickly salutes. “Yes sensei! I will make sure I pass it by tomorrow!”

‘Sensei' nodded. As he walked away they didn't know that she was taking one of their ‘treasures’ with him. As soon as he was gone y/n came out from nowhere.

“Papa…I don't like him” she softly said to Bruce. “It's okay n/n only your brothers will be training with him.” he replied while softly patting her head. “Us?” Damian asks. No one noticed how sharp her glare is.

“Yes. You,Dick,Jason and Tim. You are training with the Kent's. No one is excluded except for y/n. While you are training she will be living normally there. She still needs to learn the rules there. Selina is busy so she can't take care of her”

They all groan except the Kent's. “We wanted to spend time with y/n! It's not fair you know!” Tim argues.

“Look at my face..” Bruce asks them. And they did. “Do I look like I care? No right? So go pack your things! A month that's how long you are gone!”

“What!!” Dick who just returned home, heard about this statement. “Nooooo n/n!! My baby!! Big brother wanted to spend time with you!!” Dick exclaimed while crying.

“you will still be able to spend time with her!” Bruce said. “After you pass the test duh” Bruce face after he said that = 🙄

The boys - Kent's = ಠ⁠,⁠_⁠｣⁠ಠ

🦇🦇🦇🦇

By : ܻ⨍ᥣׁׅ֪ɑׁׅꭈׁׅꫀׁׅܻׅ݊꯱ ꫀׁׅܻ݊ꩇׁׅ֪݊ ꪱׁׁׁׅׅׅᥣׁׅ֪ᨮׁׅ֮

🦇🦇🦇🦇

ѕσмє σƒ уσυ gυуѕ αяє ρяσвαвℓу ωση∂єяιηg ωну ιѕ тнє υρ∂αтє ѕσ ƒαѕт яιgнт? gυєѕѕ ωнαт ι'м ιη му єχαм ωєєк. αƒтєя ∂σιηg му тαѕк αη∂ ѕтαяιηg αт тнє ρєσρℓє ιη ƒяσηт σƒ мє ωнιℓє ωαιтιηg ƒσя ιт тσ ƒιηιѕн му мιη∂ ѕυ∂∂єηℓу ωєηт "what if..." αѕ ѕσση αѕ ι gσт нσмє 𝗕𝗔𝗠𝗠𝗠 ηєω ι∂єα ƒσя тнє ηєχт ¢нαρтєя. αѕ ƒσя тнє яєqυєѕт... нєнє ιт... ι мιgнт мαкє ιт... υнм ση нσℓ∂ ƒσя αωнιℓє нєнє... нєнє нєнє нєн

TᗩᘜᒪIՏT :

@darktrashpoetry @fortunatelydifferentqueen @floathyblues @kyuumeee

This is my first time tagging people can you guys check? If you get tag or not?