#Five Guardians and a Baby

[lillywillow]

Five Guardians and a Baby

Summary: When the Guardians of the Galaxy are tasked with returning a baby to her home planet, they find themselves becoming very attached to her along the way

 Written for: @the-slumberparty ‘s Christmas in July Challenge

 Words: 1594

 Prompt: Found Family

 Pairing: Peter Quill x Gamora (briefly mentioned)  

 Warnings: Kind of a rough start but ultimately a lot of fluff, also a bittersweet ending

 A/N: While the piece itself isn’t festive, I did like the found family trope. Also, sort of set between the two movies.

 The Guardians of the Galaxy recently landed on a planet. They thought they would stock up on supplies but their landing came with a rude shock. Whatever had come through before they arrived had totally razed the town. Fire was everywhere and no matter where you looked there was death and destruction. Peter ran ahead in total disregard for his own safety to search for survivors. The longer he searched, the more his heart sank until finally, he heard the sound of a baby crying. He raced to the sound and discovered a badly injured man holding a wailing infant. It was clear they were not from this planet.

 “Please… you have to help me,” he begged.

 Peter knelt down beside the man.

 “What happened here?” he asked.

 “We were visiting this nation as a part of our traditional peace treaty between our people but… a huge beast attacked…” the man wheezed before bursting into a fit of coughs.

 “The beast was slaughtered but not before it killed almost everyone here… take the princess… explain to my people what happened here… My royal seal will allow you entrance into the palace…”

 The man took off an official looking pendant from around his neck and placed onto the wiggling bundle. Princess Saphrinia held the crest in her little hands and continued to cry.

 “Keep… keep her safe…”

 Peter nodded and picked her up. The man gave a grateful smile before passing away. Peter gave the man a moment of silence before taking the baby back to the others to explain what had just happened.

 That was how the Guardians of the Galaxy ended up taking care of a baby princess.

…

 The first few days were a learning curve. Rocket didn’t even want to take a baby on board but when giving some thought that Saphrinia was in fact a princess, he thought that maybe her family might pay handsomely for her safe return. It didn’t matter that he didn’t have a clue how to care for her, that was everybody else’s problem. However, it did bother him when the baby wouldn’t stop crying.

 “Make it stop!” Rocket shouted, coving his ears.

 “I’ve done everything! I’ve tried feeding her, burping her, putting her down for a nap…” Gamora stated, trying to sway with the unhappy child.

 “Maybe she needs changing?” Peter suggested.

 “Well, I ain’t doing it!” Rocket protested.

 “I’m not doing it,” Peter argued.

 “Make Gamora do it. She’s the woman,” Rocket huffed.

 “Excuse me?!”

 Gamora placed Saphrinia down and started fighting with the two males. Neither them even noticed when Drax picked up the baby and calmly changed her without complaint. After a few moments, they did notice when the shrieking had stopped and looked at Drax in surprise.

 “You forget, I once was a father,” he explained.

 The trio fell silent, feeling a touch of guilt.

 Saphrinia cooed and sleepily laid her head against his chest. Drax carried her to the makeshift nursery they had set up on the ship and laid her down for a nap.

 “Little princess, one day you will grow into a strong, independent woman. You will grow into a fierce warrior and have the armies of Thanos trembling at your feet… rest for now,” he softly smiled, watching the girl snuggle up and fall asleep.

…

 Some time later, Peter went into the nursery to check on Saphrinia. He smiled as he saw her yawn and rub her eyes.

 “Hey, little sleepy princess. Did you have a good nap?” he asked, picking her up.

 Saphrinia cooed and cuddled him.

 “Do you want to come with me to the local bar and help me pick up chicks?”

…

 After they had first picked up Saphrinia, the Guardians had stopped at the nearest inhabited planet to stock up on supplies and do any necessary repairs to the Milano as well as get what they might need for the baby. Peter had noticed a tavern there but hadn’t had the chance to visit until now. He ordered a drink for himself and something non-alcoholic and suitable for Saphrinia.

 “Now let’s scope the local talent,” he muttered to himself.

 Saphrinia babbled and looked up at him.

 “You know, you’re pretty cute, kid. A real babe magnet,” he smiled.

 The baby smiled back at him, showing off the few teeth she had.

 “I actually want to have kids some day but I worry I’m not going to be a good dad… my own old man ran out on us before I was born so I don’t really have a good role model… well, I suppose Yondu did the best he could but do I really want to raise a kid like that?”

 Saphrinia blinked up at him, drinking from her sippy cup.

 “Okay, here we go… two hot babes incoming, act cute.”

…

 After some time, Gamora went to check on Saphrinia only to find her not in her crib. She ran out to see if any of the others had her.

 “Rocket, have you seen Saphrinia?”

 “No… Maybe Drax has her,” he replied, not taking his eyes off the repair he was working on.

 “He said he hasn’t seen her since he put her down for a nap,” she explained, starting to feel the slightest bit of worry.

 “Maybe he lost her but then again, who would be stupid enough to lose… Quill!”

 The pair of them came to the conclusion together. They knew Peter had been thinking about going to the tavern and if he had Saphrinia, that would be where they would be.

…

 When the two Guardians found Peter Quill, he had two gorgeous women hanging off his every word and fussing over the baby. Rocket went over there and tore strips off him while Gamora took the baby and headed back to the ship with her.

 “Ugh. Men,” Gamora scoffed. “One day, you’re going to have to know how to handle yourself around men like that. Don’t be fooled by their pelvic sorcery. See through their act and strike first.”

 Saphrinia grinned cheekily at her. Gamora wasn’t even sure if the infant even understood the words she was saying but it was nice to have some kind of female companionship.

…

 They travelled many days with Saphrinia which bled into some weeks. During that time, they became quite close and fond of the baby princess.

 One day, Peter was walking by a doorway when he spotted Groot and Saphrinia sitting in the middle of some kind of deep conversation. With every “I am Groot,” the small walking tree spoke, the child would respond with a babble or coo. Every now and then, one of them would giggle or laugh. Peter quietly called the others over to watch the two children bonding. They smiled, enjoying watching the pair of them happily chatting about… whatever it was they were chatting about. Peter put his arm around Gamora’s waist and she laid her head on his shoulder. Then Saphrinia did something she had never done before… She managed to push herself up onto her chubby little legs and stood up. She wobbled and fell back down onto her bottom but got back up. Saphrinia took one step, then another. They were all so proud of her.

 “That’s my girl! Come to Uncle Peter!” he cooed, holding his arms out to her.

 Saphrinia completely ignored the man and made a bee line straight to the racoon.

 “No, no. Go to Quill. Go to Quill,” Rocket protested.

 Saphrinia wrapped her pudgy arms around him. Rocket’s body stiffened for a moment before he slowly returned the hug and gave her a pat on the back.

 “Uh… Good job with the walking thing, kid,” he praised.

 Saphrinia smiled brightly and waddled off for a hug from Gamora. Rocket smiled softly before spotting Peter grinning at him.

 “What?!” Rocket snapped.

 “You big softie,” Peter grinned.

 “Quill, I am not above biting you,” Rocket warned, storming off.

 Despite his tough guy exterior, Rocket did truly care for the little girl.

…

 Finally, the day came for the Guardians of the Galaxy to say goodbye to Saphrinia. The three adults and racoon (although he wouldn’t admit it) had come to think of her as their daughter and Groot thought of her as his sister. Saphrinia’s parents paid them a big reward for the safe return of the baby princess but leaving her was the hardest thing they ever had to do. Rocket tried to make a big deal they only brought her back for the payout but Peter was sure he saw the racoon wiping a few tears as they headed off.

 They knew one day; they would see her again. With her parent’s guidance, Saphrinia would blossom and become the queen she was destined to become. Her time with the Guardians would become one of her earliest memories and she would treasure them always. The Guardians of the Galaxy would always be welcomed on her planet. Even if it was for a short time in her life, they were her family.

#navy and roo's sleepover #Five Guardians and a Baby #guardians of the galaxy #Marvel #Rocket #Peter Quill #Gamora #peter quill x gamora #Groot #Drax #found family #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction #marvel one shot

[wishicouldpostfromsecondaryblogs]

HELP IM OUT OF SPACE

(brandysilverfire on FR!! The dergs are with my sis for the moment so feel free to PM me bout em)

#flight rising sales #dragons for sale #flight rising #HELP IM DROWNING AAAHHHH #this is what i get for stress buying dergs lmak #five dergs are with other playerss i gotta get em home also #oh and the three transparent aberrations are G2s and the dergs at the bottom have grown #THIRD TRANSPARENT BABY IS FACETED EYED #i love them all #but grt out of my lair please <333 #50g for the bottom abers 150g for the G2s and PWYW for tbe guardians

[soon-palestine]

Hostages tortured to death. Parents executed in front of their children. Doctors beaten. Babies murdered. Sexual assault weaponised. No, not Hamas crimes. This is part of an ever-growing list of documented atrocities committed by Israel in the five months since 7 October – quite separate from the carpet bombing of 2.3 million Palestinians in Gaza and a famine induced by Israel’s obstruction of aid. And yet while the western establishment media has been chock full of the most lurid allegations of savagery directed against Hamas, sometimes with little or no supporting evidence, Israeli atrocities are excused or quickly forgotten. Accusations against Hamas are endlessly reheated to paint a picture of a supremely dangerous and bestial militant group, in turn rationalising the slaughter and starvation of Gaza’s population to “eradicate” it as a terrorist organisation. But equally barbarous atrocities committed by Israel – not in the heat of battle, but in cold blood – are treated as unfortunate, isolated incidents that cannot be connected, that paint no picture, that reveal nothing of import about the military that carried them out. If Hamas’ crimes were so savage and sadistic they still need to be reported months after they took place, why does the establishment media never feel the need to express equal horror and indignation at equivalent or worse acts of cruelty and sadism being inflicted by Israel on Gaza – not five months ago, but right now? Israel's torture of doctors, its sexual assaults of Palestinian women, it's leaving premature babies to die after its forces stormed a hospital. Where is the outrage? This is part of a pattern of behaviour by the western media that leads to only one possible deduction: Israel’s five-month-long attack on Gaza is not being reported. Rather, it is being selectively narrated – and for the most obscene of purposes. Through consistent and glaring failures in their coverage, establishment media – including supposedly liberal outlets, from the BBC and CNN to the Guardian and New York Times – have smoothed the way for Israel to carry out mass slaughter in Gaza, what the World Court has assessed as plausibly a genocide. The role of the media has not been to keep us, their audiences, informed about one of the greatest crimes in living memory. It has been to buy time for US President Joe Biden to keep arming his most useful of client states in the oil-rich Middle East, and to do so without damaging his prospects for re-election in November’s US presidential vote. If Russian President Vladimir Putin was a madman and a barbarous war criminal for invading Ukraine, as every western media outlet agrees, what does that make Israeli officials, when every one of them supports far worse atrocities in Gaza, directed overwhelmingly at civilians? And more to the point, what does that make Biden and the US political class for materially backing Israel to the hilt: sending bombs, vetoing demands for a ceasefire at the United Nations, and freezing desperately needed aid? Worrying about the optics, the president expresses his discomfort, but he carries on helping Israel regardless. While western politicians and commentators worry about some imaginary existential threat those brief events of five months ago pose to the nuclear-armed state of Israel, Israel is quite literally wiping Gaza off the map day by day, quite undisturbed.

#palestine #gaza #free palestine

[reasonsforhope]

"Two wild kiwi chicks were born near Wellington, New Zealand, about a year after a reintroduction program began in the city, the Capital Kiwi Project announced last week. The fluffy, brown babies are the first to be born near the country’s capital in at least 150 years. 

“This is very special for the team, which has been working hard for the last few years,” project founder Paul Ward tells the Agence France-Presse. The chicks are a “massive milestone for our goal of building a wild population of kiwi on Wellington’s back doorstep.”

These flightless, chicken-sized birds were once abundant across New Zealand, with the nation’s five species numbering an estimated 12 million individuals in total. But nonnative predators and habitat loss caused their populations to plummet. Today, approximately 68,000 kiwis remain....

Conservation and reintroduction programs, including the Capital Kiwi Project, have been working to restore a large-scale wild kiwi population for years. In 2022, the organization released 11 kiwis into the wild in Makara, a suburb about seven miles west of Wellington. Between February and May of 2023, another 52 birds were released, and 200 more are slated to be released over the next five years, reports Eva Corlett for the Guardian.

Along with reintroduction efforts, the project aimed to reduce threats from European stoats, also known as ermines. The mammals were brought to New Zealand in the 19th century in an attempt to eradicate another introduced creature: rabbits. But these weasel-like stoats are voracious predators and kill many of New Zealand’s native species, including kiwi chicks. Only about 5 percent of kiwi chicks survive to reach breeding age in areas where predators are not controlled, largely thanks to stoats. In areas under management, however, 50 to 60 percent survive. Knowing this, conservationists worked with 100 landowners across the bird’s 60,000-acre habitat to install 4,600 stoat traps.

Of the 63 adult kiwis now roaming the hilly farmlands of Makara, only about a quarter are being monitored—meaning more chicks will likely hatch in the near future. Conservationists will continue monitoring the two new chicks, though Ward tells the Guardian they still have a long way to go before they’re fully grown...

Over the years, the long-beaked birds have become a national symbol of New Zealand, with people who hail from the country often referred to as kiwis. The animals also hold special importance to the Māori people of New Zealand, who have cultural, spiritual and historic associations with the birds. Even the New Zealand dollar is sometimes referred to as the kiwi, and the bird is featured on the country’s dollar coin."

-via Smithsonian Magazine, December 6, 2023

#aotearoa #new zealand #kiwi #kiwi bird #endangered species #birds #ornithology #conservation #invasive species #good news #hope

[zvaigzdelasas]

For five days, the Israeli military had been drawing closer to the hospital, where hundreds of patients, including newborn babies, have gone without electricity and with little food as fighting raged around them. Witnesses told Reuters that tanks entered the complex at 3am and that one parked in front of the emergency department. Mohammed Zaqout, the director of hospitals in the territory, said Israeli soldiers entered the emergency department and the surgery building, which also contains intensive care units. An official at the Hamas-run health ministry told AFP he could see “dozens of soldiers and commandos inside the emergency and reception buildings”. Witnesses who spoke to the BBC and AFP said Israeli soldiers used loudspeakers to demand that all males aged between 16 and 40 leave every part of the hospital complex other than the surgical and emergency wings and enter the hospital courtyard.

“All men 16 years and above, raise your hands,” a soldier shouted in accented Arabic, according to a journalist speaking to AFP. “Exit the building towards the courtyard and surrender,” the soldier ordered. About 1,000 Palestinian males, their hands above their heads, were soon led into the vast hospital courtyard, some of them stripped naked by Israeli soldiers checking them for weapons or explosives, the journalist said.[...]

The Israeli army released video showing soldiers carrying boxes labelled “baby food” and “medical supplies”.

A spokesperson for the Palestinian ministry of health in Gaza, Ashraf al-Qudra, told Al Jazeera Arabic that “only doctors, patients and displaced people” were present when Israeli forces entered the hospital’s emergency department. “We have nothing to be afraid of or hide,” he said. Omar Zaqout, who works in the emergency room at al-Shifa, told Al Jazeera that Israeli soldiers had detained and assaulted some men who had taken refuge there. “[They] did not bring any aid or supplies, they only brought terror and death,” he said.[...]

The Israeli authorities have long maintained that Hamas uses the area below the hospital as a command centre. Hamas and hospital staff deny this. The IDF said in a briefing that soldiers found “weapons and other terror infrastructure,” at al-Shifa, and that they had seen “concrete evidence that Hamas terrorists used the Shifa hospital as a terror headquarters,” which they intended to publish later.

Hamas said the IDF’s claims were “nothing but a continuation of the lies and cheap propaganda, through which [Israel] is trying to give justification for its crime aimed at destroying the health sector in Gaza”.

The raid continued well into the afternoon, though details were scant due to a widespread telecommunications blackout[...]

The head of the World Health Organization, Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus, said his organisation had lost contact with medics inside al-Shifa. In the late afternoon, Boursh told Al Jazeera that Israeli troops were still present in the hospital. “They are still here … patients, women and children are terrified,” he said. He said the medical staff had vowed to stay with their patients “till the end.”[...]

Boursh told the Guardian that some who attempted to flee al-Shifa earlier this week were surrounded by gunfire as they left the hospital grounds, and turned back.

The Palestinian health ministry said 40 patients died on Tuesday, after five days without the fuel needed to power generators that fed dialysis machines and other vital medical equipment. The hospital had also run out of clean water, and doctors said they were subsisting on dates to survive as food supplies dwindled to nothing.

Corpses were piled in front of the hospital, with staff too terrified to move between buildings. The UN’s office for humanitarian affairs said staff at al-Shifa, for decades the linchpin of Gaza’s medical system, had begun preparations for a mass grave to entomb 180 bodies in front of the facility, as there was no way for them to leave in order to bury the dead.

15 Nov 23

[mysicklove]

Toddlers are known to look at their caregivers to see how they should react when they trip and fall. Even if the stumble of their wobbly legs doesn’t hurt them, in many cases, they will still cry if their guardians fuss over them. Although, if the adult doesn’t give them a time of day usually the little beasts get up and go back to playing with their friends.

This phenomenon is pretty common for the toddler you raise. The small child seemed to master how to react during certain situations depending on who is watching him, you or his wicked older brother.

The three of you go to the park where Yuuji runs around the playground, letting out giggles and squeals when Nobara and Megumi play tag with him You somehow drift off on Sukunas shoulder on a nearby bench, closing your eyes and slumping against your boyfriend, content with the fact that he has his eye on the reckless child.

As to be aspected, Yuuji, after being warned very harshly by his “doting” brother to go slow when going down the steps of the playground, ignores the caution and sprints down the stairs only to miss a step and fall straight to the bark. It wasn’t a hard fall — his legs collapsed beneath him, and he landed on his knees with a plop. No harm, no injuries, mostly just shock of him falling a couple feet into the bark.

The first thing he does is look toward you, unconsciously questioning if he is about to cry out from the pain so that you can pick him up and coddle him. But he can’t catch your sleeping gaze and instead finds himself face-to-face with Sukuna.

His brother only raises an eyebrow at him, shaking his head as if to say “i dare you to cry right now”. The two of them make eye contact for longer than necessary, silent communication, and Yuuji sniffles, gulps, and slowly gets up before going back to playing.

The elder Itadori puts his hand in front of your eyes, blocking out the sun from disturbing your sleep and continues to watch his younger brother walk much more carefully up and down the playground. It was good to not coddle the boy; Sukuna didn’t want Yuuji to grow up spoiled; he was to be a man, strong just like him.

But of course, Sukuna happened to be raising him with you, a person with the biggest soft spot for the child. And so when you wake up from your nap, and Sukuna calls the boy over to leave, you notice the tiny piece of bark sticking out of the boy's leg. It was surface level — Yuuji didn’t even notice it, but still, the image looked much more gruesome than it was really.

You gasp and begin to fuss over his “injured” leg, asking the boy if he tripped and fell if he was hurt at all if he was okay. And suddenly, to Yuuji, it seemed that maybe that fall did hurt a little too bad. Maybe he wasn't okay like he thought.

Tears begin to well up in his eyes.

“Don’t you give me that shit. You’re fine. You tripped like five minutes ago, and I know it didn’t hurt.”

Yuuji shakes his head, ignoring his brother and rubbing his eyes while he looks up at you. “O-Owie…” he whines, rubbing at his knee.

“Poor thing, did you hurt yourself? I’m sorry baby, I wasn’t watching.” He reaches his hands up to you, and you scoop him up while he begins to cry into your neck.

It was a fake cry, obviously enough. It makes the elder Itadoris mouth hang open. “You little liar!”

“Don’t be mean, Sukuna.” You say, teasing him because you realized quickly enough that the boys “cries” didn’t produce any liquid from his eyes. You didn’t mind spoiling the boy either way.

Sukuna, realizing you also understood, lets out a dramatic groan, shaking his head before exclaiming, “Why am I surrounded by weaklings?!”

You just laugh at him, thinking about to a few years earlier during highschool. Sukuna was the one who would dramatize his pain whenever he got in a fight. You would listen to his whines (after he profusely exclaimed that he won by a longshot) over a busted lip and a black eye while you would fuss over him, just as you are doing to Yuuji.

He got into a lot of fights during highschool because Sukuna could never get enough of you fretting over him. He liked when you played nurse and coddled him, way too similar to the way you cooed at Yuuji.

The two of them, although Sukuna would never admit it, are way too similar. Both are strong and independent boys who happen to turn into whiny, attention-seeking puppies when you are around.

#big brother au #idk why i wrote this #just this was in my head for some reason

[atlasnessie]

DAYCARE PICK UP !! let’s go home, lovely

osamu & chuuya as daddies picking up their poor adorable baby girl up from daycare !! ( same names as the other fic guys mb lawll )

early fall always made dazai’s heart turn in a different way. the ways the leaves on the trees change colors and die down for the new generation, it made his heart feel melancholic in the windy weather. however, the waves of unknown emotions had to subside. today, osamu dazai has taken on the task of picking up his daughter from daycare. you have entrusted him to be on time, no later than five for that was when all the other children would be leaving with their own parents and guardians and, oh dear, it would be terrible to leave your poor daughter all alone with no one to play with, wouldn’t it ?

as osamu stepped into the small daycare, he was relieved to see his daughter with a few other kids, playing with a small kitchen set and siring up a pot filled with fake carrots and lettuce leaves. he was always worried she would be outcasted like him. as one of the workers called akane over, she dropped all her things and smiled, rushing over to her father. the daycare workers grabbed for akanes bags and belongings, handing them over to osamu with a smile as the both of them left.

the walk to the house was filled with small chatter and dazai carrying akane by the shoulders, his big hands holding his daughters legs in a protective manner as akane messed with his chocolate hair.

“how was today, dear ?”

“was fun. we did finger painting !! look; it’s flowers, the sun, clouds, and this is mommy, and this is you !” as akane held a paper in front of dazai’s face, he stopped walking and stepped to the side of the sidewalk. despite the paper being far too close to his face, he could make out small blobs and streaks of hair that rested on (what seemed like) your head in the drawing. dazai wore a dolly smile on the drawing, the crescent shaky and uneven, but it gave himself flavor.

“oh, this is wonderful !! let’s go home and show mommy, yeah ? and then we can put it on the fridge together, how about it ?”

chuuya told you there was no need for a daycare. he could just hire a nanny to look for chiyo for the day while the two of you were away or you could stay home with her, he makes more than enough money for the three of you. but you insisted, saying it would be good for your daughter to play with other kids rather than a nanny. and to chuuya, your words are almost law to him, he’ll follow it if it makes you happy.

which now leads to where chuuya is now. his chauffeur stops in front of the daycare as chuuya thanks him, telling him that he could park somewhere before opening the door and walking in. with his hands in his pockets, chuuya turned his head from wall to wall. papers filled with drawings filled the halls, along with small decorations such as paper chains made by the children and cut outs by the teachers and workers. it wasn’t a fancy place as chuuya wanted, it was rather normal, in fact. a plain exterior complemented with nicely decorated hallways.

as nakahara walked further in the daycare, he stopped at the familiar door and knocked gently with a gloved hand. the door was cut in two, the top half open while the bottom half was lock closed. chuuya liked this door, he could see his daughter without the anticipation of wondering where chiyo was and what she was doing. a worker walked over and smiled neatly at chuuya before calling for chiyo. the girl, dressed neatly and hair done to perfection, ran over to the door as chuuya waved. grabbing her things, chiyo waved goodbye to her friends before holding her fathers big hands in hers.

“‘ya had fun, pretty ?”

“mhm ! we painted and drew lots. we also made tomato-lettuce-apple-leaf soup outside in the playground !” chiyo hopped around as she stepped over the tile lines, jumping slightly higher with the help of chuuyas hands and arms lifting her up gently.

“oh yeah ? that sounds like real fun. hey, mommy’s making food back at home, hope you’re not too full from your … err — soup from earlier.”

#bungo stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs dazai #bsd dazai #osamu dazai #dazai x reader #dazai x you #bsd fluff #bungo stray dogs chuuya #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #atlas writes !

[thedensworld]

Perfect Pairing | C.Sc

Pairing: Mafia Seungcheol! x Agent Reader

Genre: Action, suggestive, slow burn

Words Count: 12k

Summary: Mafia Seungcheol has to face a fact that he found his bestfriend's long-searched sister. However she is a NIS agent who was ordered to terminate him.

Author Note: BOO! It's been a long time since the last time i left a note hehe.. Here's another Seungcheol's action ff because y'all love it, i love it, and we love strong-masculine but gentle Seungcheol 👉👈 i just wanna say thank you very much for all the support you guys has been given to me. I'll work harder to make a better story in the future. Love you all🤍

Seungcheol sat on the plush couch, his eyes fixed on the figure sprawled across his bed. She was the only one, aside from himself, who had the privilege of laying there. Yet, the questions that loomed large were 'Who is she?' and 'Why had she ended up in his club, drugged and unconscious?' 

For Seungcheol, it was routine to make the rounds, keeping a watchful eye over his nightclubs. He was the guardian, determined to shield his establishments from any foul play. He harbored no forgiveness for those who dared to tarnish what he considered his babies – his clubs. So, when he stumbled upon the woman, tucked away in a corner near the office, his suspicions flared. Her state, drugged and vulnerable, was the last thing Seungcheol wanted associated with his club.

"Who is she?" Seungcheol's voice cut through the air, halting his steps. He turned to fix his gaze on the manager, who fidgeted under his scrutinizing stare. Joshua, Seungcheol's right-hand man, approached the woman and confirmed their worst fear.

"I think she's just a lost customer, sir. We'll take care of her," the manager hurriedly explained, already signaling the staff to attend to her.

But Seungcheol wasn't ready to let it end there. He took a deliberate step forward, his pulse quickening as he locked eyes with a face that stirred something within him. The words caught in his throat, his astonishment rendering him momentarily speechless. Joshua, sensing a shift in his boss's demeanor, followed Seungcheol's gaze to the woman's face. Surprise registered in Joshua's eyes, prompting him to act swiftly.

"We'll take care of her," Joshua instructed the manager, while signaling Seungcheol's bodyguard to prepare to transport her. The pieces of this unexpected puzzle were falling into place, painting a picture that Seungcheol hadn't foreseen, Yoon Jeonghan's sister. 

Yoon Jeonghan, Seungcheol's steadfast companion, had been inseparable from him and Joshua since their high school days. Five years prior, a tragic twist of fate claimed Jeonghan's life in a deadly rivalry, all for a monumental deal with a club in Seoul. That night, half of the association's spirit seemed to vanish, and Seungcheol couldn't deny the immense role Jeonghan played in his current success. Despite their decade-long friendship, Jeonghan was a mystery to Seungcheol. He knew little about the man, except for the fact that Jeonghan had once mentioned having a younger sister back in their high school days.

"She might be the female version of Yoon Jeonghan," Jeonghan had mused during their time at the Judo club, informed everyone that his sister was a judo athlete. It was a memory that now surfaced in Seungcheol's mind. 

A knock jolted Seungcheol from his reverie. He opened the door to find Joshua standing there, bearing a file brimming with information about the girl they had just brought to the house.

Seungcheol's brow furrowed, concern etched across his face. "When was the last time she met her brother, Jeonghan?" he inquired, a note of urgency in his voice.

Joshua's reply held a solemn weight, "Five years ago, when Jeonghan flew to the States." There was a palpable sense of distance in those words, a span of time that seemed to stretch on endlessly. Seungcheol couldn't help but wonder about the vast expanse of experiences that must have unfolded in those five years. He leaned in, his gaze locked onto Joshua, eager for any shred of insight into the woman's life.

Joshua's voice held a touch of uncertainty as he continued, "She might not know about the business Jeonghan's been doing." It was a possibility that hung heavy in the air, a question mark that loomed over the narrative. Seungcheol's mind raced, concocting scenarios and speculations. Why was she in his club? He couldn't shake the feeling that her presence held significance beyond what met the eye.

Joshua's eyes narrowed as he gestured towards a screen, revealing a CCTV feed. Seungcheol's breath caught as he watched the footage unfold. There she was, stepping into the limited area, a figure shrouded in mystery. But before she could make another move, someone emerged from the shadows, drugging her. Seungcheol saw her being held and strangled before she passed out. Seconds ticked by, the person escaped the area and Seungcheol, Joshua, and the manager's shadows appeared, unknowingly they had failed a crime that almost had taken place in Seungcheol's club.

Seungcheol let out a sigh of relief, grateful that nothing more sinister had occurred within the confines of his club. The weight of what could have been settled heavily on his shoulders. He couldn't help but contemplate the grim possibilities if a murder had taken place under his roof. The thought of imprisonment loomed, as did the fate of those who worked tirelessly under him.

With a determined look, Seungcheol turned to Joshua. "Find out more about the person who drugged her," he instructed, his voice steady. "I need to understand the connection, and why she ended up in our club in the first place."

Joshua's response was accompanied by a respectful bow, his demeanor exuding poise and unwavering focus. He left Seungcheol to his contemplations, striding off to untangle the enigmatic threads of this puzzling situation. With a gentle smile, Joshua mentioned that everyone was gathering for dinner, extending an invitation to Seungcheol. 

"No, I'm good. Thanks," Seungcheol politely declined, choosing to venture forth on his own.

After what felt like an eternity, a sudden thud echoed from outside, followed by an abrupt blackout. Seungcheol's heart raced, propelling him from his seat towards the desk where he had stashed his gun. The suspense hung heavy in the air, each passing moment pregnant with anticipation.

Seungcheol moved cautiously, stepping outside to investigate. He caught a fleeting glimpse of figures entering his penthouse. Gritting his teeth, he pressed himself into the shadows, keenly eavesdropping on their conversation. 

"I'm sure, he's here!" One of them said as they were certain Seungcheol was his place, and the others were preparing for dinner. 

Seungcheol deliberated, mentally counting their numbers. Four. After much contemplation, he acted swiftly, firing two shots that sent two of them scrambling for cover.

"Shit, who's that?" a voice exclaimed in surprise.

As another figure approached, Seungcheol didn't hesitate, striking with deadly precision. Seungcheol took a step, a dragon tattoo adorned their hand, a clear mark of Kanga's handiwork. The rival association had been a thorn in his side for years, the one who had killed Jeonghan.

Suddenly, the icy touch of metal pressed against Seungcheol's temple. "Choi Seungcheol, I've got you," the assailant whispered.

"Kanga's the one who sent you, isn't it?" Seungcheol inquired calmly.

A chuckle escaped the stranger before he retorted, "Whoever sent me definitely wanted you dead."

Seungcheol couldn't help but chuckle too. "Yeah, heard that from the previous people they had sent before. Guess what? They had failed." With a swift motion, he disarmed the assailant.

Punches flew, relentless and unforgiving. Seungcheol didn't give his opponent a chance to respond. But in his focused assault, he failed to notice what transpired next—a gunshot rang out.

 

*

 

You jolted, heart pounding, as the two gunshots pierced the darkness. The inky blackness enveloped you, exacerbating the headache, likely from whatever Seo Myungho had injected into your body. Did he succeed? The thought of your demise hung heavy. But if he failed, you were alive, albeit barely.

Your hand fumbled towards the pistol stashed on your inner thigh, a wave of relief washing over you as you found it intact. It had been your lifeline since that encounter with Myungho in Seungcheol's club.

"Seo Myungho, that son of a bitch," you seethed, memory flooding back. The betrayal cut deep, after a decade of unwavering dedication, sacrificing family, friends, and any semblance of a normal life. The country had turned its back on you. They betrayed you.

Steeling yourself, you descended from the bed, moving toward the commotion outside. Moonlight filtered through, casting a pallid glow. Amidst the shadows, you witnessed a fierce altercation. One man pummeled another, while a third sat poised, gun trained on the scene. Your instincts took over, aiming for the armed figure and firing, the shot tearing through his arm. 

The other man's gaze locked onto you, and recognition flickered in his eyes. Choi Seungcheol. The very man you had studied meticulously for this mission, only to realize it was a deadly mission targeting you, a mission to distract you and terminate you.

"Yoon Y/n," Seungcheol's voice cut through the tension, surprising you. He knew your real name. With deliberate grace, he released the lifeless figure he'd pummeled and advanced toward you. Instinctively, you took a step back, your gun trained on him.

He called your name again, this time coupled with another - Yoon Jeonghan.

"You're Yoon Jeonghan's sister, aren't you?" he inquired, his gaze flitting from his bruised knuckles to your face. You felt your back press against the wall as you continued to retreat, his presence closing in.

"How do you know?" you demanded, your grip on the gun steady. But you didn't notice as he skillfully disarmed you. The drugs Myungho administered began to take their toll again, sapping your strength. You slumped to the floor, powerless against it.

"Are you okay?" Seungcheol's concern was palpable, his eyes locked onto yours. The soothing timbre of his voice sent shivers down your spine.

Before you could muster a response, a surge of people barged into the room, casting a blinding cascade of light.

"What's going on?" A man's voice cut through the chaos, clearly taken aback by the grim tableau before him - blood spattered across the floor, Seungcheol sheltering you in the corner.

Joshua, the name Seungcheol had mentioned, approached, drawing Seungcheol's gaze as he spoke through gritted teeth, "Kanga sent them. How dare he invade my place!"

"You're awake. Why is she here?" Joshua's eyes narrowed, noticing you weakly cradled in Seungcheol's arms. You wondered how he knew you too.

Seungcheol let out a sigh, "She shot one of the men and saved me. Could you take her to the bedroom? I need to talk with the others." With gentle care, he helped you rise and passed you into Joshua's custody.

As Joshua guided you towards the bedroom, Seungcheol's voice echoed from beyond the door, seething with frustration, "WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU GOING?! WHO WAS RESPONSIBLE— " The words reverberated, tinged with urgency and anger.

You regarded Joshua, his demeanor seemingly acquainted with this kind of scene. He gently settled you on the bed and inquired if you needed anything.

"Thanks," you politely declined, gnawing at your lip, your mind grappling with how you ended up here.

Joshua's gaze on you was intense, and a soft chuckle escaped his lips. "You're truly a female version of Jeonghan," he remarked, a warm smile gracing his features.

"How do you know my brother?" you questioned, struck by the contrast between Joshua's aura and Seungcheol's. Where Seungcheol exuded intimidation, coldness, and territoriality, Joshua emitted a different energy. You shook off your thoughts, reminding yourself this was your first encounter with him, though you had studied images of him for months, they still swirled in your mind.

"We've been friends since high school. We watched your competition once, but after that, Jeonghan never let us go again," Joshua explained. He mentioned your past as a judo athlete, a chapter of your life that had been dormant for over a decade. Did his "we" means him, Jeonghan, and Seungcheol? And was Jeonghan's death connected to the murky business they were involved in? The questions hung heavy in the air.

Joshua struck you as a seemingly affable guy, you mused, recalling details from his profile. Hong Jisoo, but commonly known as Joshua since he hailed from the States. He held the esteemed position of Choi Seungcheol's right hand. His face bore an almost angelic quality, and seeing him in person you could confirmed it. However, his reputation preceded him; he is known for his deft manipulation with words and actions, a key factor in Seungcheol's meteoric rise in the industry. You couldn't help but wonder, was Jeonghan also a part of this world?

"How did I end up here?" you questioned, making a conscious effort to steer clear of any mention of your brother.

"You passed out in front of our office. Seungcheol had a hunch you might be Jeonghan's sister, and he was right. We've been searching for you ever since he... passed away," Joshua's voice trailed off, carrying the weight of unspoken sorrow.

"You were the only family he had, weren't you? Discovering you were truly his sister was quite the surprise," he continued, recounting how many times they had attempted to trace Jeonghan's family after his tragic demise.

Taking a deep breath, Joshua ventured further, asking about your presence at their club the previous night. You hesitated, deliberating whether to divulge everything. Could you truly place your trust in these people? After the events of last night, you have no plans on trusting people. You'd devoted over a decade of your life to serving as a secret agent for the NIS, giving your all for your country, only to be betrayed by sending Seo Myungho to take your life last night. You had been tasked with a mission to apprehend Choi Seungcheol, a businessman suspected of dealings with a dangerous Japanese mafia. Yet, it was a mission built on falsehoods. The complexities of your situation weighed heavily on your mind.

"I was—"

The door burst open, and Seungcheol strode into the room, immediately advancing towards you. He seized the gun you had, aiming it squarely at you. Joshua's startle prompted him to mimic Seungcheol's move, clearly uncertain about his intentions. But you sat there calmly, unruffled by the display, and noticed a smirk playing on Seungcheol's lips. 

"G19 Gen6, not even released yet. How did you get this?" Seungcheol's gaze bore into you, intense and penetrating. He must have some familiarity with firearms; perhaps he had a side business involving them, a detail that had slipped your memory.

"Are you a part of them?" he accused, linking you with Kanga, the well-known rival association.

You couldn't help but chuckle. "Afraid you've saved an enemy, Choi Seungcheol?" you taunted, sensing his surprise at your knowledge of his true identity.

Seungcheol didn't respond. Instead, he handed the gun towards Joshua, instructing him to handcuff you. 

"Choi Seungcheol, also known as S.Coups..." You paused, debating whether to reveal your true identity.

"Organized crime, money laundering, fraud. Your knowledge of the G19 Gen6 suggests you're involved in arms trading," you ventured. Earning his trust was crucial now. You needed him to release you so you could slip away from their clutches. You were acutely aware that Seo Myungho was relentless in his pursuit, and they might launch a thorough search for you.

"I'm not your enemy, Seungcheol. I'm nobody to you," you asserted.

He smirked, a glint of interest in his eyes. "So, you've been studying me? Excellent! Tell me more."

You held his gaze, your eyes probing, voice laced with trepidation. "My brother... It was Kanga who took him from us, wasn't it?" The question hung in the air, heavy with its implications. "That's why you were searching for Kang Jaehoon."

Seungcheol settled onto the bed, his expression focused and intent as he studied you. "Who exactly are you?" His words were measured, hinting at a mix of curiosity and caution.

A lump formed in your throat as you weighed the decision to disclose your true identity. It seemed like the key to gaining his trust, perhaps even securing his help to escape the clutches of South Korea. Your hand moved to your bra, retrieving a badge holder that had been carefully tucked away. With a deliberate gesture, you tossed it before him, the emblem of the National Intelligence Service of South Korea gleaming. It bore the title that defined your role there: 'Special Agent.'

"I was on a mission to apprehend you, but it was a misguided attempt to terminate me instead," you admitted, the weight of the revelation palpable in the room. 

Seungcheol's eyes shifted between the badge and your face, a dawning realization painting his features. The room seemed to hold its breath, a charged silence enveloping you both. With a subtle gesture, Seungcheol motioned for Joshua to leave them alone. Respectfully, Joshua bowed and exited the room, leaving you alone with Seungcheol.

"You're... NIS?" Seungcheol's voice carried a mix of surprise and suspicion, his brows furrowing as he contemplated the revelation.

You affirmed with a nod, your voice steady despite the weight of the truth. "Yes, I was sent here under false pretenses. They wanted me out of the way, but I never expected they'd go this far." The gravity of the situation hung heavily in the air.

A profound silence settled between you, the implications of your revelation settling like stones in a pond. Then, Seungcheol released a resigned sigh, his hand raking through his hair. "This complicates things."

You understood the far-reaching consequences of your admission. "I need your help, Seungcheol. They'll be looking for me. I have to go."

Seungcheol's gaze bore into yours, searching for sincerity in your eyes. His breath grazed your skin, a palpable intensity in the air. "Are you truly his sister?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper.

As if lost in thought, he murmured to himself, "You really could be his sister." You observed the turmoil within him, recognizing the weight of this revelation.

With a final sigh, Seungcheol rose from the bed. "Let's discuss this in the morning. Rest, Yoon Y/n." His voice held a gentle authority, a promise of further conversations to come. 

 

*

Seungcheol stood there, the weight of your revelation sinking in, memories flooding his mind. He remembered the last time he held Jeonghan, the pain etched on his face as he bled out from the gunshot wound inflicted by Kanga's people. Jeonghan had looked at him with desperate eyes, gasping for breath, and in those final moments, he had implored Seungcheol to find his sister and take care of her.

The memory was etched into Seungcheol's soul, a haunting echo of a promise made to a dying friend. He had sworn to Jeonghan that he would look after you, protect you. But now, faced with the reality of your presence, uncertainty gnawed at him. Could he trust you? Could he truly believe that you were Jeonghan's sister?

As Seungcheol lay in bed that night, sleep eluded him once again. His dreams were always haunted by Jeonghan's presence, a constant reminder of the debt he owed to his fallen friend. That night was no different. In the depths of his restless slumber, Jeonghan visited him, his ethereal form hovering in the shadows of Seungcheol's subconscious.

"Have you found her, Seungcheol?" Jeonghan's voice was soft, tinged with a sense of longing.

Seungcheol's heart ached. "I don't know, Jeonghan. I'm not sure about her."

When Seungcheol awoke, his body was drenched in sweat, the remnants of the dream clinging to him. The weight of his promise pressed on him, urging him to make a decision about you. He knew he couldn't ignore Jeonghan's final wish any longer. Determined, Seungcheol rose from the bed, ready to face the challenges that lay ahead. Seungcheol took a deep breath, steadying himself, as he made his way to the dining room. His crew stood in respectful unison, bowing their heads as he entered. He motioned for them to continue, acknowledging their presence with a nod. His thoughts were still consumed by the revelation from the night before.

"Joshua," Seungcheol inquired, "is she awake?"

Joshua looked up from his meal, his expression calm. "Yes, she's up and had breakfast already."

With a nod of gratitude, Seungcheol left the dining area, heading back to his bedroom, now shared with you. As he approached the door, he felt a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. 

But when he opened the door, he was met with a sight that took him completely off guard. You stood in the middle of the room, in the process of changing, your back exposed to him. Seungcheol's eyes widened in a, and he immediately averted his gaze, hastily closing the door.

He turned to Joshua, his voice low and incredulous. "Why didn't you tell me she was changing?"

Joshua looked nonplussed, offering a casual shrug. "I thought you might knock."

Seungcheol's brow furrowed in bewilderment. "It's my own bedroom. Why would I need to knock?"

Before Joshua could respond, the door creaked open, revealing you on the other side. "I'm done," you mumbled, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Seungcheol swiftly averted his gaze, the atmosphere tingling with an undeniable awkwardness. 

"We need to go," he stated with a sense of urgency, turning to face you. With determined steps, he entered his room as he beeline to his closet. You followed, curiosity knitting your brows.

"Why?" you queried, seeking to understand the sudden need for urgency.

He paused, pivoting his body to meet your gaze, his expression bearing a weighty concern. "It's not safe here," he explained, his words carrying the gravity of a man well-acquainted with danger.

You held his gaze, surprise flickering in your eyes at the sincerity in his tone. "You want to help me?" The question hung between you, a silent plea for confirmation.

Seungcheol's response was a resigned sigh, his shoulders sagging as he grappled with the complexities of the situation. "You want to see me change?" he quipped, a touch of wry humor attempting to diffuse the tension.

You responded with a nonchalant shrug, crossing your arms in a self-assured stance. "You saw me change," you reminded him, a wry smile dancing on your lips. 

Seungcheol couldn't help but notice a glimmer of Jeonghan's personality in your demeanor, though he chose not to comment on it directly. Instead, he proceeded to lay out the plan to leave the penthouse and head to his villa in Jeju. It was a strategic move, combining the need for safety with a business meeting.

"As for the business," you inquired, your tone laced with a hint of sarcasm, "which one are we talking about? Your vast array of illegal enterprises, perhaps?"

Seungcheol's jaw tightened, irritation flickering in his eyes. He didn't appreciate the reminder of his less-than-legal dealings. "You saw me punching the guy last night. I don't exclude women, woman," he warned, his tone laced with a sharp edge.

Your smirk was quick and sharp, a challenge glinting in your eyes. "And you saw me shooting that guy last night," you retorted, refusing to back down, your voice echoing the same defiant spirit.

A timely knock shattered the tension that had settled in the room. Joshua's voice called out your name, signaling that he had something to discuss. You excused yourself to attend to Joshua's call, leaving Seungcheol alone in the room.

Taking the opportunity, Seungcheol set about changing his clothes and assembling his belongings. The task was done with a practiced efficiency, each item packed with purpose. The atmosphere was charged with a sense of urgency, a reminder of the weighty decisions that needed to be made in the face of mounting uncertainties.

As Seungcheol made final adjustments to his belongings, his thoughts raced through the upcoming plans. The trip to Jeju was a necessary step, but it also meant delving deeper into a world that held no shortage of dangers.

"Seungcheol, we need to talk."

 "What is it?"

Joshua's gaze met Seungcheol's, his expression grave. "We have to be cautious. With Y/n here, things are more complicated than ever."

Seungcheol nodded in agreement. "I know. We'll have to tread carefully."

Joshua's voice lowered. "And what about her connection to NIS? That's a wild card we can't ignore."

Seungcheol's jaw clenched, a surge of apprehension coursing through him. "We'll need to find out more. But for now, we need to get to Jeju. It's our best chance to regroup and plan our next move."

Joshua nodded in agreement, the weight of their circumstances hanging in the air. 

With a shared understanding of the complexities they were about to navigate, Seungcheol and Joshua left the room, their footsteps echoing in the corridor. The gravity of their situation pressed on them, a reminder that every move they made held the potential for both danger and revelation.

As they approached the main area, Seungcheol's crew stood at the ready, their expressions a mixture of concern and determination. Seungcheol addressed them with a voice that carried authority and purpose. "We're leaving for Jeju. Make sure everything is in order."

The crew members nodded in response, swiftly moving to carry out their orders. The sense of urgency in the air was palpable, each person understanding the weight of the circumstances they faced.

Seungcheol turned to you, his gaze steady. "Y/n, we need to stick together and be vigilant. This won't be easy, but we'll do our best to get through it."

You met his gaze, a sense of resolve mirrored in your eyes. "I'm ready," you affirmed, your voice holding a determination that matched his own.

Seungcheol's expression grew serious as he considered the weight of the decision. Without a word, he reached into his coat and retrieved a compact pistol, handling it with the practiced ease of someone intimately familiar with such weapons.

He extended the gun towards you, his eyes never leaving yours. "Take it," he instructed, his voice low and steady. "You may need it."

You accepted the weapon, feeling the cool metal against your palm. The gravity of the situation settled over you, the weight of the gun a tangible reminder of the dangers that lay ahead.

Seungcheol's gaze held yours, a silent understanding passing between you. In that moment, you both knew that trust would be your greatest asset on this perilous journey. With a nod, you secured the gun, a silent promise to yourself and to Seungcheol that you would do whatever it took to navigate the treacherous path that awaited.

 

*

 

"FUCK YOU CHOI SEUNGCHEOL! YOU DOUBTED ME?!" The words burst forth, a torrent of raw emotion that reverberated through the charged atmosphere of the villa. The scene that met your eyes was a brutal tableau, a testament to the 'loyalty test' you had just endured. Seungcheol's men, once a formidable force, now lay strewn across the floor, some nursing wounds, others utterly broken, their blood staining the very foundation of the villa. It was clear now, with visceral certainty, that this had been a test - a trial of your allegiance to Choi Seungcheol, and he had orchestrated it with brutal precision. Is this his plan?

Seungcheol, his countenance unyielding, stood at the entrance, a silent observer to the chaos he had set in motion. He offered no words, only a casual shrug, as if the mayhem that had unfolded was but a casual affair. This calculated trial had served its purpose, a ruthless measure of your loyalty to him.

Earlier, just before his departure, his directive had been succinct and commanding. "We're leaving for a meeting. Make sure this villa is safe." His tone brooked no debate, and with a seamless transition, you shifted into your assassin mode. Adrenaline surged, senses heightened, as twenty assailants launched an assault on the villa. In the midst of the fray, a searing pain shot through your arm, a cruel reminder of the peril that surrounded you.

Grimly, you surveyed the bleeding wound, the realization settling in. Was this why Seungcheol had handed you a gun? The revelation underscored the unforgiving nature of the world you now navigated, where trust was a currency often traded for survival, and alliances were forged in the crucible of adversity.

As you tended to your wounded arm, a surge of bitterness welled within you. The betrayal by NIS was a jagged thorn in your side, a question that gnawed at the edges of your thoughts. Why had they turned on you? Why had they orchestrated a mission to terminate you, sending Seo Myungho as the executioner? It was a betrayal that cut deep, a wound far more insidious than the one you now tended.

Memories of your years of dedication, the sacrifices made in service of your country, flashed before your eyes. The sleepless nights, the countless missions executed with precision, all in the name of duty and honor. And yet, here you were, marked as a target by the very organization you had pledged your allegiance to.

The implications of their betrayal were far-reaching. It wasn't just a matter of personal vendetta, but a shadowy web of intrigue that extended into the highest echelons of power. Questions swirled in your mind, each one a shard of a puzzle that refused to be pieced together. Who had ordered this mission? What were their motives? And perhaps most pressing of all, how had they infiltrated the seemingly impenetrable walls of NIS?

The truth eluded you, shrouded in a fog of deception and hidden agendas. But one thing was clear - you could trust no one, not even the very organization that had once been your steadfast ally. As you contemplated the depths of the betrayal, a resolve took root within you. You would uncover the truth, expose the puppet masters pulling the strings, and ensure that those who had betrayed you would face the consequences of their treachery. 

"You cry?"

Seungcheol's voice jolted you back to the present, shattering the fragile reverie that had taken hold. Startled, you hastily wiped away tears that had silently betrayed you. His mock tone and the smirk on his face grated on your nerves.

"Shut up," you retorted, the irritation plain in your voice. Meanwhile, Joshua, who was now tending to your wound, observed the exchange with a small, appreciative smile. He couldn't help but notice the striking resemblance you bore to Jeonghan. It was a revelation that brought with it a sense of gratitude, knowing that you were capable of eliciting a playful side from Seungcheol, a side that had perhaps been buried beneath the loss of Jeonghan.

The room held a curious energy, a blend of tension and familiarity, as you each navigated the complexities of your newfound alliance. It was a precarious dance, one that required finesse and an acute understanding of the intricate dynamics at play. As Joshua continued his ministrations, the unspoken bond between you and Seungcheol seemed to solidify.

Seungcheol's voice held a gravitas that cut through the air, breaking the tension that lingered in the room. "You need to know the truth," he began, his gaze steady and unyielding. "Kanga is a puppet, dancing on the strings pulled by NIS."

His words hung heavy, the weight of their implications settling in the room. You exchanged a wary glance with Joshua, both of you keenly aware of the gravity of the revelation.

Seungcheol continued, his tone unwavering. "They receive secret information, illegal permissions, all in exchange for their services. The most lucrative of which is the import of drugs from Japan, a trade that lines the pockets of those in power."

The revelation was a bitter pill to swallow, a glimpse into the shadowy underbelly of the world you had once called home. The intricate web of deception and betrayal now stretched even further, revealing the sinister dance between organized crime and the very agency sworn to protect the nation.

Seungcheol's revelation hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the depths of deceit that surrounded them. 

As the weight of the truth settled, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anger and betrayal. The organization you had dedicated your life to had fed you misinformation, leading you down a treacherous path that had ultimately led to this moment.

"You mean to say... I've been fed wrong information all this time?" The words left your lips, laced with a mixture of disbelief and outrage. The realization was a bitter pill to swallow, a testament to the extent of the manipulation that had been orchestrated by NIS.

Seungcheol's gaze bore into yours, his expression one of grim acknowledgment. "You might know something about them that they decided to eliminate you."

The weight of Seungcheol's revelation settled over you, each word sinking in like pieces of a puzzle finally clicking into place. The mission, the betrayal - it all makes sense.

The black file.

Contained within its darkened pages were the damning records of illegal activities, a trove of evidence implicating powerful figures, including your own chief. It was what they were after, what they desperately sought to retrieve. And unbeknownst to them, you held it in your possession.

In that moment, you knew that the stakes had escalated to a perilous height. The file was not just a collection of papers; it was a weapon, a leverage that could shift the balance of power. The revelations had transformed the journey ahead into a high-stakes game, one where every move would be a calculated risk, every decision a potential turning point.

Where did you put that damn file? 

The black file, a digital repository of evidence, held the potential to turn the tide in your favor. But now, in this critical moment, you found yourself grappling with a nagging uncertainty. Frantically, you cast your thoughts back, retracing your steps in a desperate bid to recall where you had put the file. The room seemed to close in around you, each passing second a reminder of the ticking clock. Your heart raced as you mentally rifled through your memories, searching for the elusive location.

"You'll be safe with us," Joshua mumbled, his voice a soothing presence as he finished tending to your wound. Seungcheol nodded in agreement, his eyes reflecting a quiet determination.

With a gentle pat on your shoulder, Joshua left, leaving you alone with Seungcheol. He took a seat in front of you, his gaze steady and unwavering. "Jeonghan wanted me to take care of you," he began, his voice tinged with a solemn weight. "Those were his final words to me - find you and look after you on his behalf."

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, your skepticism clear in your gaze. "And that's why you orchestrated that earlier?" you asked, alluding to the attack his men had initiated.

Seungcheol let out a weary sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I needed to be sure. You worked with NIS. I had every reason to be cautious, to doubt your intentions," he admitted, his tone tinged with a mumble of apology.

He continued, his voice carrying a rare vulnerability. "Me, Jeonghan, and Joshua built this association from the ground up. Jeonghan was my right hand, handling all aspects of the business, while Joshua helped me manage our resources." He paused, a flicker of emotion crossing his features.

"My relationship with Jeonghan... it was different. He was like a brother, someone who completed me in a way that no one else could. I hope you understand why I view Kanga with such animosity," Seungcheol explained, his words carrying a weight of history and sentiment.

You tilted your head, offering a hesitant observation. "I didn't expect you to be this... emotional, Seungcheol. You might just be the most melancholic person to run an illegal business," you remarked, earning a sigh from him.

"I'm a businessman, not a robot, Y/n," he replied, rising from his seat. "We'll be here for five days. After that, we'll move to Busan, and perhaps even Japan. Be prepared for a lot of traveling. Once you join us, there's no turning back."

With those final words, Seungcheol left you alone in the bedroom, leaving you to contemplate the weight of the journey that lay ahead.

 

*

The sleek black car cut through the night, slicing through the darkened roads like a shadow. Inside, it was an atmosphere thick with tension, with only the low hum of the engine breaking the silence. Seungcheol's gaze remained fixed ahead, the muted glow of passing streetlights painting fleeting streaks of light across his focused expression.

Beside him, you sat in contemplative silence, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on your mind. The file, the association, Seungcheol's motives - it was all a whirlwind of complexity that demanded your utmost attention.

Abruptly, the car jerked to a stop, sending a jolt through your body. Panic flashed in your eyes as you instinctively glanced at Seungcheol, who already had his hand on the gun tucked at his side. The driver, Seungcheol's trusted bodyguard, was on high alert, scanning the surroundings for any signs of danger.

Seungcheol's phone chimed, breaking the silence, and he quickly answered. Joshua's voice crackled through the speaker, fraught with urgency. "Seungcheol, I've had a tire blowout. I'll be delayed. Go ahead without me."

Seungcheol's brow furrowed in concern, his gaze flickering to you briefly before refocusing on the situation at hand. "Understood, Joshua. We'll proceed. Be safe."

As the call ended, the car suddenly rocked violently, the sound of screeching metal filling the air. The windows shattered, showering you with glass, and the world outside seemed to explode into chaos. The driver fought to regain control, but it was clear - they were under attack.

Seungcheol's training kicked in, his movements swift and calculated as he returned fire, the staccato bursts of gunfire filling the confined space. The assailants, masked and armed, were relentless, their bullets finding purchase in the car's reinforced chassis.

With a steely resolve, you reached for the concealed weapon at your side, your training taking over. You fired back, your shots precise and calculated, each one a declaration of your determination to survive.

The battle raged on, a fierce clash of wills in the heart of the night. The car became a battleground, a symphony of gunfire and shattered glass.

With a final surge of determination, Seungcheol's onslaught forced the assailants to retreat, their presence vanishing into the night. The car, battered and smoldering, sat in the aftermath of the brutal assault.

The air inside the car hung heavy with tension, suffused with the acrid scent of gunpowder. Seungcheol's gaze bore into the darkness outside, his mind racing with thoughts on their next move.

Without hesitation, he swung open the door, motioning for you to follow. The night air was cool against your skin, carrying with it a sense of urgency that matched the pounding of your heart.

Seungcheol took the lead, his every movement calculated and purposeful. His eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for any sign of danger. "We can't stay here. We need to find shelter," he declared, his voice steady despite the chaos that had erupted around them.

You nodded, falling into step behind him, the weight of your weapon a reassuring presence in your hand. The driver, still recovering from the shock of the attack, looked to Seungcheol for guidance.

"Head towards the nearest safehouse," Seungcheol instructed, his voice leaving no room for hesitation.

As the driver navigated the damaged vehicle through the treacherous terrain, Seungcheol's mind raced, formulating a plan to ensure their safety. "We'll need to regroup, gather our resources, and assess the situation," he murmured, more to himself than to you. Seungcheol's jaw clenched, the weight of responsibility settling firmly on his shoulders.

When the car finally came to a stop outside a nondescript building, Seungcheol wasted no time. He directed the driver to secure the perimeter while he ushered you inside.

The safehouse was dimly lit, a stark contrast to the chaos outside. Seungcheol's eyes scanned the room, assessing its potential vulnerabilities. "We'll need to fortify this place. It's not ideal, but it will have to do for now," he declared, his tone unwavering.

"You're bleeding." You stated as your gaze fell into his shoulder. Blood stained his baby blue shirt, signing that he got shot there. 

As you swiftly moved around the safehouse, your eyes scanned for a medical kit. It was a testament to the intensity of the night that you didn't even flinch at the sight of the supplies, grabbing what you needed with the precision of someone well-acquainted with field medicine.

When you returned to Seungcheol, he watched you intently, his gaze never leaving your hands as you tended to his wound. It was a clean shot, but it still needed attention. The room was hushed, save for the soft rustle of the bandages.

"You're a pro," Seungcheol's voice cut through the quiet, his tone a mixture of admiration and respect.

"I received a lot of training," your reply was simple, a reflection of the life you had led.

Curiosity danced in Seungcheol's eyes as he asked about your time with NIS. You shared snippets of your missions, the work you did in the security and international affairs division. The topics ranged from diplomatic protection to intelligence gathering in high-stakes environments.

"What kind of training did you receive?" Seungcheol inquired, genuinely interested in the life you had lived.

You listed off the various disciplines you had honed: firing, martial arts, endurance, criminalogy, psychology. Each word held weight, a testament to the breadth of skills required in your line of work.

"Is that hard? Being an agent?" Seungcheol's question was measured, a genuine curiosity about the world you navigated.

You met his query with one of your own, turning the spotlight back on him. "Is that hard being a mafia?"

Seungcheol blinked, momentarily taken aback by the question. It was a rare moment of vulnerability from a man who exuded confidence in every step he took.

"Even answering is hard," you mused softly, a wry smile touching your lips. With a final adjustment to the bandage, you finished tending to Seungcheol's wound. The room settled into a thoughtful silence, each of you lost in your own reflections.

"Have you ever thought of leaving the job?"

Seungcheol's question hung in the air, a weighty inquiry that cut through the silence. It was a question that carried a depth of understanding, born from the recognition of the sacrifices that came with a life dedicated to a cause.

You looked at him, your gaze meeting his, and for a moment, the veneer of professionalism fell away. It was just two individuals, bound by circumstance, facing the complexities of their chosen paths.

"Yes," you admitted, your voice soft but resolute. "There have been moments when I've wondered what it would be like to walk away, to have a life that doesn't demand constant vigilance."

Seungcheol listened, his eyes fixed on yours, his expression a mirror of contemplation. It was a conversation that touched on the vulnerabilities that lingered beneath the surface, the unspoken desires for a different kind of existence.

"And have you?" Seungcheol's question was equally gentle, a reflection of the trust that had begun to form between you.

You nodded, a subtle admission of the complexities that colored your journey. "There have been times when I've come close, but duty always called me back."

The weight of your shared confessions settled in the room, a heavy presence that underscored the gravity of the paths you both walked. It was a moment of vulnerability, a rare glimpse into the hearts that beat beneath the professional exteriors.

You mustered the courage to speak about your brother, Jeonghan. "I found out about Jeonghan's death through a covert channel within NIS. It was a blow, a revelation that shook me to my core." The memory was still fresh, the pain of loss a constant ache in your heart.

You pondered over what Jeonghan's life must have been like, what secrets he held. "I always assumed Jeonghan was running a clothing line," you admitted, your voice tinged with a hint of regret. The memory of your last encounter with him flashed before your eyes. It was then that he had learned about your affiliation with NIS.

Seungcheol listened intently, his eyes fixed on you. It was a story that resonated with him, for he too had lost Jeonghan, a brother in a different sense. "I'm sorry you had to find out that way," he offered, his voice laced with genuine sympathy.

Every time you considered leaving the job, the specter of your brother's death loomed large. It was a reason to stay, a burning desire to unravel the mystery of who had taken him from you. The need for closure, for justice, fueled your determination.

"He never said anything about you. I think he was just being secretive to protect your privacy. It must have been a surprise for him to learn you work for NIS," Seungcheol mused, offering his perspective.

The thought of NIS potentially being involved in Jeonghan's death hung heavy in the air. "If Jeonghan's death is related to NIS, I would do anything to rip them apart," you confessed, your voice edged with determination. The words held a weight of truth, a vow to seek justice for the brother you had lost.

Seungcheol's gaze met yours, a solemn understanding passing between you. The room seemed to hold its breath, the weight of your shared purpose settling around you.

"I can assure you, Y/n," Seungcheol began, his voice carrying a quiet resolve, "we both want the same thing. I'll kill Kang Jaehoon with my own hands. I'll do it by my self to whoever did that to Jeonghan."

You nodded, grateful for his words. It was a reassurance that you weren't alone in this pursuit, that you had an ally in Seungcheol, even if your worlds were vastly different.

As the conversation lingered in the air, there was a subtle shift in the atmosphere. It was a recognition of the bond that had formed between you, a connection forged in the crucible of shared loss.

"We'll find the answers together, Y/n. No matter where they lead us," Seungcheol vowed, his eyes steady and unwavering.

With those words, a pact was sealed. You and Seungcheol were now bound by a shared purpose, a determination to uncover the truth that had eluded you both for far too long.

In that moment, the boundaries of your worlds seemed to blur. 

 

*

 

The shadows of intrigue danced around the dimly lit room where Joshua stood, a man cloaked in secrets and allegiances. Before him stood a figure whose face was veiled in shadows, a powerful presence in the criminal underworld.

"Yoon Y/n has met Seungcheol," Joshua reported, his voice carrying the weight of significant revelation. "Seungcheol seems to have taken an affection to her, especially upon learning she is Jeonghan's sister."

The man nodded in acknowledgment, absorbing the information with calculated interest. It was a revelation that held implications beyond what was immediately apparent.

Joshua continued, his voice steady, "Tonight's assault was successful. Seungcheol has informed me that they will stop at the safe house."

The man wasted no time, instructing his associates to mobilize towards the designated safe house. It was a calculated move, a chess piece carefully maneuvered into place.

"As you promised, make sure my name remains clean," Joshua stated, a reminder of the intricate web of alliances and agreements that bound them.

Seo Myunho, a formidable figure in his own right, extended his hand for a handshake, sealing a pact forged in the shadows of their clandestine dealings. Joshua, however, shifted his hand to another figure in the room, Kang Jaehoon, a gesture that spoke volumes of the shifting alliances and hidden agendas at play.

In the complex tapestry of loyalties and betrayals, Joshua's decision to betray his own association was woven from a history that ran deep, entangled with the fates of Seungcheol and Jeonghan.

From the inception of their criminal enterprise, Joshua had always been the steadfast third pillar, his words overshadowed by Jeonghan's charismatic influence. His loyalty was unwavering, his execution of tasks impeccable. Yet, when a deal with Kang Jaehoon emerged, a sinister plot was set into motion. Jaehoon sought to eliminate Jeonghan, recognizing him as the linchpin to Seungcheol's success. With Jeonghan removed, the balance shifted, and Joshua stepped into the void, his influence expanding, making it all the easier for Kang Jaehoon to tighten his grip on Seungcheol's empire.

As Kanga sought to escalate their operations, delving into the drug trade, they required political backing, and that's when Kim Chul, Chief of NIS, entered the picture. Seo Myungho was deployed to play his role, a lethal pawn in the intricate game.

Yoon Y/n, an NIS agent of unparalleled dedication, possessed an unparalleled knowledge of the geopolitical intricacies between nations. Her resolve was unyielding, and she became a potent force within NIS. When her familial connection to Yoon Jeonghan was discovered, it provided a strategic advantage, a means to chip away at Seungcheol's empire from within.

The plan was deceptively simple: bring S.Coups and Y/n together, knowing that their union posed the greatest threat to Kang Jaehoon and Kim Chul. It was a calculated move to weaken their adversaries, setting the stage for a termination mission that could shatter Seungcheol's empire.

Yet, in the twisted dance of deception, Seo Myungho failed to convey the full extent of Y/n's power—the possession of The Blackfile. And Joshua, blinded by the intricacies of the game, failed to realize the magnitude of the force that would be unleashed when Choi Seungcheol and Yoon Y/n stood united.

Jaehoon's operative delivered the report with a somber tone, "Hyungnim, report. Choi Seungcheol and Yoon Y/n had left the safe house. We failed to get them."

Jaehoon's gaze narrowed, a steely resolve settling into his features. He turned to Joshua, seeking answers, "Any information from Coups?"

Joshua's expression registered surprise, shaken by the fact that Seungcheol hadn't disclosed his whereabouts. He shook his head, uncertainty etched in his eyes. This unexpected move was a curveball that had caught them off guard.

Jaehoon's voice held a note of determination, "Okay, let's go with plan B." 

 

*

 

The small, unassuming bookstore loomed in front of both you and Seungcheol. His driver took a separate route, following instructions issued by Seungcheol himself.

"Is this the right place?" Seungcheol inquired, a note of skepticism threading his words. The decision to leave the safe house was a precautionary one, a response to the looming threat of Kanga's relentless pursuit. The only refuge you offered was this hidden bookstore, a sanctuary where trust still held sway.

A boy stood behind the counter, his eyes flicking up to greet you. You wasted no time in your inquiry, asking if 'Gameboi' was present. Without hesitation, the boy gestured towards a concealed door, hidden behind a curtain. Seungcheol followed your lead, stepping into the dimly lit corridor.

With practiced precision, you input a code and scanned your fingerprint, unlocking the hidden passage. 

"What kind of place is this?" He asked again. 

You smiled at Seungcheol, a silent invitation for him to enter the room ahead of you. As he crossed the threshold, the stark transformation in atmosphere struck him.

The room burst forth in a riot of color, adorned with an array of vibrant and eclectic decorations. It resembled nothing short of a teenager's bedroom from high school. Seungcheol's gaze swept over the lively surroundings, a stark contrast to the dark corridor outside.

Just as the intrigue deepened, a bespectacled man entered through another door. He exuded an air of warmth and welcome. He approached you, enfolding you in a genuine embrace. Then, he extended a hand towards Seungcheol, introducing himself as 'Wonwoo'. 

"I know you," Wonwoo said when Seungcheol introduced himself, his curiosity piqued. "You haven't visited for a long time. Any news?" He turned to you, inquiring while the three of you settled on the couch.

Seungcheol found amusement in witnessing how at ease you appeared in this room compared to his own. Your legs rested casually on the table as you sank into the couch.

"Seo Myungho and that damned organization turned their backs on me, Jeon Wonwoo! I can't believe the time has come," you sighed, frustration evident in your voice.

"What do you mean? You're the one and only gem in the division," Wonwoo remarked, revealing his knowledge of your work with NIS.

You stood up and turned to Seungcheol, "Wonwoo was a former NIS agent as well. Specializing in programming, hacking, whatever," you explained, shedding light on your connection with Wonwoo.

"Cybersecurity agent," Wonwoo corrected, "I resigned two years ago," providing a little background on how he knew Seungcheol's name from earlier.

You assumed they were looking for you because of The Black File, a file that Wonwoo had contributed to before he left NIS. You explained to Wonwoo how Seo Myunho had nearly killed you that night, and Seungcheol had saved you, revealing that he was a friend of your brother Yoon Jeonghan. 

Wonwoo was taken aback by the news, both the fact that they wanted to terminate you and that you were Yoon Jeonghan's sibling.

You then requested Wonwoo's help in tracking down Seo Myunho. He beckoned for you both to follow him to his room, where his equipment was neatly arranged.

As he typed Seo Myungho's name, he initiated a thorough search. Wonwoo combed through Myungho's location via his cellphone, bank transactions, and car GPS. After a few moments, he pinpointed a location and immediately pulled up a live feed from the nearest CCTV.

Seungcheol couldn't help but question the legality of their actions, only to be met with scoffs from both you and Wonwoo. "You ask that like you've never done anything illegal, Choi Seungcheol," you retorted.

You watched intently as Myungho emerged from a building that bore the appearance of a club. Seungcheol confirmed that it was indeed one of Kanga's establishments.

"Then it's true that Myungho has worked with Kanga," Wonwoo concluded, the gravity of the situation becoming even clearer.

As you observed Myungho, a thought crossed your mind - was he merely a puppet in this intricate web? You recalled a crucial event months ago when you intercepted one of Kanga's transactions, a move that had ultimately led to your current mission of apprehending Choi Seungcheol. There was a possibility that someone within NIS was colluding with Kanga.

You turned to Wonwoo and inquired if he had a copy of The Black File. He shook his head, affirming that you were the sole holder of it.

Seungcheol, sensing the gravity of the situation, asked, "What is The Black File?". 

Wonwoo explained that it contained information on powerful individuals engaged in illegal activities, including politicians, celebrities, and leaders. Both you and Wonwoo had worked on compiling it for several years, believing it would prove valuable. Little did you know, it had now become a weapon that held your fate.

You admitted to Wonwoo that you had forgotten where you stashed the flash drive containing the file.

Wonwoo's expression turned serious. "We don't have time for memory lapses," he stated firmly. "You need to remember where you put it. It's crucial. This file holds immense power, and if in the wrong hands..." He left the implications hanging in the air, emphasizing the urgency of retrieving it.

"But i don't think they were looking for the file, Y/n." Wonwoo began. "They won't kill you if they knew the file exists. There must be another reason why they had to terminate you."

Wonwoo's revelation sparked a realization. If they were after The Black File, they wouldn't be attempting to terminate you. Their motives ran deeper, and you couldn't quite fathom the underlying cause.

Seungcheol's sudden question pierced the air, "Does NIS know about your brother?"

Your mind raced, trying to connect the dots. How could Jeonghan, who was long gone, be relevant to this?

Wonwoo's inquiry brought forth more details. Seungcheol explained that Jeonghan's tragic demise occurred five years ago, a casualty of a successful deal he had struck with Kanga. The revelation sent a jolt through you. Three years ago, you received the news from the NIS channel, indicating a two-year delay in information. 

There must be reason for NIS to inform you about your brother's death. 

Morning bathed the room in a soft glow as you and Wonwoo delved into the intricacies of the case that had entangled both you and Seungcheol. Seungcheol momentarily stepped out to take a call, leaving you alone with Wonwoo.

Out of the blue, Wonwoo dropped a bombshell. "He likes you," he declared. "And you like him too."

You shot him a look, dismissing his words. "Shut up."

Wonwoo merely shrugged, undeterred. "Why not? Can't I be happy for you? He seems to genuinely care about you. Plus, he's in this danger too," he pointed out.

"He sees me as a sister," you retorted, brushing off his claim.

Wonwoo couldn't resist a sarcastic agreement. "Right, because every brother looks at their sister with such affectionate eyes." He knew how to push your buttons, and it irked you.

There were a pregnant pause before you suddenly chirepd, "But seriously?" you pressed, the seed of doubt taking root.

Wonwoo smirked, triumphant. He had you.

"Damn it," you muttered, landing a playful punch on his arm.

Seungcheol entered the room, his expression tense. "We need to go. Kanga's people are looking for us, whether it's me or you, I'm not sure. They were spotted near the safe house last night."

You bid a hasty farewell to Wonwoo and left the bookstore with Seungcheol. Sensing his exhaustion, you offered to take the wheel, knowing he hadn't slept since the previous night.

Your plan was to head to Japan by ship later that evening. It was the only solution Seungcheol could think of, a way to put some distance between you and the danger lurking in South Korea.

As you discussed your next moves, Seungcheol mentioned Joshua's unusual situation. His tire hadn't been repaired despite the supposed breakdown last night, his bodyguard had checked it for him. There was no repairment service that handling his car last night. The unspoken suspicion hung heavily in the air, and you couldn't bring yourself to voice it aloud.

"Are you trying to say that Joshua..." Seungcheol, however, nodded in grim acknowledgment. The truth seemed painfully apparent.

At the rest area, Seungcheol stayed in the car while you hurriedly went to grab some food. Just as you were about to return, you caught sight of individuals with distinctive dragon tattoos etched on their arms. Panic surged through you, propelling you to rush to your car and start the engine with a burst of urgency. The abrupt motion woke Seungcheol, his eyes widening at your alarmed announcement about Kanga's henchmen tailing you.

With Seungcheol's calm guidance, you maneuvered the car with precision, skillfully evading the pursuers. Eventually, he directed you to a public parking lot, providing a temporary sanctuary where you could catch your breath.

As the car rolled to a stop, you released a trembling exhale, your fingers still gripping the steering wheel tightly. Seungcheol's concerned gaze met yours, his worry palpable as he took in your shaken state.

"Are you alright, Y/n?" His voice held a mixture of concern and a trace of remorse for allowing you to take the wheel amidst the heightened tension.

You nodded, though the rapid rise and fall of your chest, coupled with your trembling hands, betrayed the underlying tension that still clung to you. With deliberate movements, you unbuckled your seatbelt and rose from your seat. As you nestled into Seungcheol's lap. You lips crashed his. Without a doubt, his arms enveloped you in a protective cocoon. The kiss that followed was a fusion of relief, gratitude, and an unspoken understanding of the danger that lurked around you.

His lips met yours with a gentle urgency, a silent promise of safety and support. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, conveying emotions that words could scarcely capture. Time seemed to stand still, and the world beyond the car became a distant backdrop.

The touch of his lips against yours was both tender and reassuring, a testament to the unspoken connection that had been forming between you. In that stolen moment, you found solace in each other's arms, seeking comfort in the midst of uncertainty.

When the kiss finally ended, there was a lingering warmth, a shared understanding that hung in the air. You pulled back, your eyes meeting Seungcheol's with a mixture of gratitude and something deeper, something that hinted at the complexities of the situation you found yourselves in.

Seungcheol's gaze held a rare vulnerability, a glimpse into the depths of his emotions that he seldom allowed to surface. It was a fleeting moment of raw connection, a silent acknowledgment of the gravity of the circumstances that brought you together.

Without a word, you shifted back to your own seat, a comfortable silence settling between you. The events of the night had forged an unbreakable bond, a shared experience that bound you in ways that words could not express.

"I'll drive." Seungcheol said and went out to switch the seat. 

 

*

 

"The boat will be ready by tonight," Joshua assured Seungcheol over the phone, a sense of anticipation in his voice. "Yes, I'll report to you about that. Please take care, the two of you."

As the call concluded, Joshua's eyes shifted to Seo Myungho. "Easy," he remarked, a sly smile playing on his lips. He motioned for Myungho to join them, setting their intricate plan into motion.

Their objective was clear: secure The Black File before executing their plan to eliminate both you and Seungcheol that night. Myungho's valuable insights into The Black File, a compilation of your intelligence and that of a former NIS agent, made it a potent weapon for seizing control of the industry.

Joshua couldn't help but smirk, satisfaction evident in his expression. The alliance between him and Myungho, forged in the crucible of shared secrets and calculated trust, held the promise of a meticulously planned revenge. The culmination of a long-simmering vendetta was now unfolding step by step.

Myungho, behind the wheel, sighed in relief as he drove. "You finally could be the boss of your association by tonight."

Nodding, Joshua turned his gaze to Myungho, a glint of triumph in his eyes. "And you finally could gain what you've deserved with Y/n out of the frame."

Myungho smiled slyly, understanding the gravity of their collaboration. "It's mutual, right?"

Joshua chuckled softly, his amusement blending with a hint of menace. "Yeah. Once we get The Black File, it's time for Kanga and your boss's end."

As they drove towards their destiny, the tension in the air was palpable. The night held the promise of transformation, and each calculated move was a step closer to the realization of their shared ambitions.

Joshua sighed, his mind drifting back to a time when camaraderie thrived among them—Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and himself, the third wheel in their trio. In the beginning, questions about their friendship never crossed his mind. Jeonghan's insatiable need for attention seemed to explain Seungcheol's profound admiration for him. Yet, as the dynamics shifted from friendship to business, Joshua's perception underwent a seismic change.

He came to the realization that he had never truly been considered family from the start; he was more of a distant relative, someone known but not entirely trusted. The shift became painfully apparent as their bonds transformed amidst the demands of their new business endeavors. What once felt like an unbreakable connection now seemed tenuous, as he found himself relegated to the sidelines.

The tipping point occurred when Seungcheol, in a move that cut deep, was elected as the boss. Instead of recognizing Joshua's unwavering dedication to the association, Seungcheol chose Jeonghan as his right-hand man. It was a bitter pill to swallow, a stark revelation of the hierarchy within their supposedly close-knit circle.

Life, Joshua mused, was undeniably unfair. Yet, he harbored a growing understanding that life could be twisted, transformed by unexpected events. And that twist entered the frame in the form of Kang Jaehoon.

As Joshua delved into these memories, a mixture of nostalgia and resentment played across his features. The emotions he had bottled up over time simmered beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to unfurl. 

Turning his head towards Myungho, Joshua couldn't help but voice his curiosity, "What kind of person is Y/n?" His interest in unraveling your persona evident in his inquiry.

Myungho, with a momentary pause, described, "She's naive, perhaps the most naive agent I've ever met." There was a hint of both assessment and a touch of amusement in his words. Myungho's insight into your character seemed to amuse Joshua, who couldn't resist a scoff. "Pretty much like her own brother," he remarked, drawing a subtle parallel between you and someone else close to Joshua.

"But she's smart, detail-oriented, and quick," Myungho continued, offering a more comprehensive picture of your capabilities. "Truly speaking, she has an undeniable charm that could make everyone like her. That's how she got into her position."

Joshua, listening attentively, shook his head slowly, a mix of acknowledgment and resignation in his expression. "Right? People with charm always beat the hard workers like us," he mused, releasing a sigh that carried a hint of bitterness.

Myungho, however, added a layer of perspective. Nodding thoughtfully, he turned to Joshua, "But only a hardworking one could steal that." His words hung in the air, emphasizing the value of perseverance and diligence in their cutthroat world.

As the conversation unfolded in the confined space of the car, the atmosphere became charged with unspoken truths and the acknowledgment of the intricate dynamics at play. Myungho, growing impatient, stepped on the gas, propelling them forward towards a destination where destinies would intersect and choices would define their futures.

As Joshua and Myungho arrived at the port, they spotted Seungcheol's car parked nearby, a silent testament to the unfolding scheme. Joshua swiftly dialed Seungcheol to relay the exact location, establishing the designated meeting point. In the shadows, Myungho concealed himself, poised for the opportune moment to secure you and The Black File.

"Boss," Joshua greeted both you and Seungcheol with a facade of politeness, his demeanor belying the intricate web of betrayal that had been spun. He gestured for both of you to embark on the waiting boat. Seungcheol took the lead, extending his hand to assist you, an innocent enough gesture that masked the underlying deceit.

However, the engine roared to life unexpectedly, disrupting the carefully choreographed plan. Joshua observed Seungcheol's momentary surprise as he, with calculated intent, pushed Seungcheol onto the boat just as it began to glide away. The abrupt departure left you momentarily stranded, only to find yourself being pulled aboard by none other than Myungho.

"Y/N!" Seungcheol's desperate scream echoed through the port, his voice carrying the weight of genuine concern for your well-being. The urgency in his tone betrayed the turmoil within, a realization that the situation had taken an unexpected turn.

Yet, before Seungcheol could comprehend the full gravity of the unfolding events, someone stealthily emerged from the shadows behind him. With precision born from sinister intent, they clamped a hand over Seungcheol's mouth, the cold touch delivering a swift introduction to a sleeping drug. As the sedative took effect, Seungcheol's struggles faltered, and he succumbed to the encroaching unconsciousness.

 The abrupt silence that followed Seungcheol's desperate cry hinted at the abrupt shift in dynamics, leaving only the sound of lapping waves and the muffled breaths of those entangled in a web of deceit.

"Let me go!" Your desperate plea echoed through the air as you struggled within Myungho's unwavering grip. Every fiber of your being seemed determined to break free from the confining hold.

The air crackled with tension as you, fueled by a surge of adrenaline and determination, engaged in a physical struggle with Myungho. Your attempts to break free were met with calculated resistance, his grip unyielding as he maintained control over the situation.

Myungho, seemingly amused by your defiance, continued to taunt, "Give us The Black File, and maybe we'll reconsider your fate." His words hung in the air, a sinister bargain that underscored the high-stakes nature of the unfolding confrontation.

In the midst of this struggle, Joshua stepped forward from the shadows, his expression betraying a mix of amusement and cold detachment. "Y/N, you always were a formidable opponent," he remarked, his voice carrying the weight of shared history now tainted by betrayal.

Undeterred, you fought fiercely against Myungho's hold, refusing to succumb to the impending surrender. The port became an arena for a clash of allegiances, the sounds of the scuffle blending with the distant cries of seagulls and the lapping of the waves against the dock.

A sudden, desperate maneuver afforded you a brief respite, breaking free from Myungho's grasp. As you distanced yourself, the intensity of the confrontation hung in the air, a palpable tension that mirrored the fractured alliances in this shadowed port.

 

In that fleeting moment, your eyes met Joshua's, sparking a glimmer of recognition. A shared history echoed in that exchange—a whisper of the camaraderie that once bound you together. The gravity of the betrayal seemed to pause briefly as the weight of the past flickered in your gaze.

 

Yet, the fragile thread of nostalgia snapped as Joshua, devoid of sentiment, raised his hand. A calculated gesture, a silent command to Myungho to resume the pursuit. The camaraderie dissolved into the cold reality of betrayal, leaving you with a bitter taste of disappointment and the knowledge that any remnants of trust had been irrevocably shattered.

"The Black File was with Jeonghan," your voice cut through the tension, a revelation hanging in the air like an electric storm. Joshua and Myungho, masters of manipulation, found themselves momentarily caught off guard. The revelation was a jolt, and vulnerability flickered across their faces, bared for just a moment amid the chaos they had orchestrated.

The port, once a canvas for clandestine alliances, now bore witness to the unraveling of carefully laid plans. The shock on their faces mirrored the seismic shift in power dynamics, a stark reminder that even the architects of betrayal could be blindsided.

Seizing the moment, you acted swiftly, drawing a concealed gun and aiming it at Myungho's stomach. The sudden threat disrupted the calculated dance of deceit, leaving Myungho staggered by the impact of the shot. The crack of gunfire echoed in the night, punctuating the escalating drama.

With the grip on you released, you walked purposefully toward Joshua. "If you really want to get it, then get it by yourself," you asserted, the words laden with a mix of defiance and resolve. The revelation had turned the tables, and now the power dynamic teetered on the edge of retribution.

Raising the gun, you pointed it at Joshua's head, the port's ambient sounds providing an eerie backdrop to this dramatic showdown. "To hell with both of you," you declared, the words carrying the weight of betrayal and the determination to break free from the shackles of their deceit. The air crackled with a charged intensity, marking a turning point in this intricate dance of loyalty and betrayal.

 

*

 

"As we knew, both agents Y/n and Myungho were very diligent and loyal. They were our siblings, our children, our family, and our friends. May their souls rest in peace," solemn words hung in the air, marking the culmination of a funeral that served as a testament to the sacrifices made in the clandestine world of espionage.

As the NIS agents stood united in both grief and silent acknowledgment of the perils they faced daily, the atmosphere remained heavy with the weight of loss. The caskets, side by side, symbolized the interconnected destinies that had led to this tragic end. Flowers adorned the area, a feeble attempt to inject a touch of solace into the stark reality of their fallen comrades.

After the formalities, Wonwoo stepped back from the circle of mourners. His eyes caught a figure wearing a mask and hat lingering in the shadows. Carefully, he approached, recognizing the need for discretion in their covert world. Together, they walked towards where Wonwoo had parked his car earlier.

"Your funeral would pretty much look like that in case you'll curious," Wonwoo remarked, acknowledging the clandestine nature of their existence.

In response, you scoffed and hissed, "Fuck you," tossing the cap and mask onto the backseat. The exchange carried a residue of bitterness, a reminder of the thin line between duty and personal sacrifice in the intricate dance of espionage. The port, once a hub for secrets, now bore witness to the aftermath of lives lived in the shadows and the heavy toll extracted in the pursuit of elusive truths.

A week had passed since the discovery of "your" lifeless body submerged in water alongside Myungho's. The pursuit of Choi Seungcheol had come to a somber close, marked by the tragic demise of two dedicated agents in a public spectacle. The National Intelligence Service (NIS) found itself thrust into the spotlight, with the media seizing the opportunity to expose the agency's inner workings, tarnishing its once-respected image. 

In the aftermath, you handed a necklace to Wonwoo, solemnly instructing him, "Do this last favor for me." Wonwoo, eyebrows raised, initially puzzled, finally grasped the situation. "As Yoon Y/n? Alright, I was taken aback for a sec. Dude, I was just attending your funeral!" he exclaimed in relief.

With a subtle roll of your eyes, you replied, "Agent Yoon is no more, Wonwoo. Please welcome the newest persona, Jeon Y/n!" Your announcement was met with your own sense of excitement, while Wonwoo couldn't help but roll his eyes at your characteristic flair for the dramatic. 

If only you didn't promise him big money, he won't let you use his surname.

 

*

 

Two years later, you find yourself standing in front of the iconic statue of Marcus Aurelius in Rome, reflecting on the profound changes that have unfolded since adopting your new identity as Jeon Y/n. Life has taken unexpected turns, leading you down a path of reinvention. Shedding the cloak of espionage, you embraced a role far removed from the covert world – that of a counselor.

Roaming the world, your journey eventually brought you to Rome, a city steeped in history and timeless beauty. A client, seeking solace and guidance, had specifically requested a month of regular sessions. The cobblestone streets echoed with the whispers of ancient stories as you navigated through the enchanting blend of past and present.

As a counselor, your days are now filled with meaningful conversations, helping others navigate the intricate tapestry of their lives. The weight of secrets has given way to the liberation of shared emotions, and the art of healing has become your newfound purpose. The serene atmosphere of Rome serves as a backdrop to these sessions, adding an extra layer of tranquility to the therapeutic journey.

Standing before the stoic statue of Marcus Aurelius, you ponder the resilience of the human spirit and the transformative power of embracing a new identity. The winds of change have carried you to this moment, where the echoes of ancient wisdom mingle with the whispers of contemporary souls seeking guidance.

Your phone rings, and it's your client representative on the line. "Hi, Ms. Jeon. I would like to inform you that Mr. Lee would be available today at 3 o'clock. I'll send you the location for the counseling session. And I'm so sorry for the sudden reschedule."

You reply calmly, "It's okay, I'll be there first to prepare the counseling session if you don't mind."

The representative reassures you, "It's totally fine. Enjoy your time in Rome."

With the call ended, you take a moment to appreciate the city's timeless charm before gearing up for the upcoming session. The cobblestone streets and ancient architecture seem to whisper tales of resilience, mirroring the very themes you navigate in your counseling sessions. As you await the location details, the anticipation of another transformative encounter with a client adds a layer of purpose to your journey through the heart of Rome.

Arriving at the hotel room designated for today's counseling session, you meticulously organize your materials, mentally preparing for the upcoming encounter. The ambiance of the room exudes a mix of professionalism and quietude, a fitting space for the intricate nature of your counseling work. 

As you immerse yourself in thoughts, the distinct sound of footsteps interrupts your focus. A familiar voice, unexpectedly speaking Korean, greets you. Turning your head, disbelief washes over you as you meet Choi Seungcheol's gaze, his sly smirk adding an element of intrigue.

"You are Mr. Lee?!" you demand, your tone revealing a blend of astonishment and assertiveness. Seungcheol nods, seemingly amused by your reaction.

With a nonchalant tone, he responds, "Nice to meet you, Ms. Jeon. Should we start the session?"

 

*

 

Your breath hitched, lingering in the air, though the kiss had ended moments ago. Seungcheol, face flushed, entered the car, tapping clumsily on unnecessary features of his own car, seemingly surprised by his own actions. As you turned your head toward him, his eyes locked onto yours, a profound connection established as if you had discovered something essential in this vast world.

The sensation surpassed the satisfaction of profits in Seungcheol's clubs or the triumph of a successful case. It was a peculiar feeling, one that transcended tangible accomplishments.

Your gaze drifted to his neck, where a familiar necklace rested. Without a second thought, you grabbed his collar, surprising him once again. "Your necklace," you mumbled, and his eyes followed your gaze.

Seungcheol, flustered, stammered, "M—my necklace. Oh, it was... Shoot! I thought you were gonna kiss me again." His attempt at diversion was met with skepticism.

Locking eyes with him, you asked, "Is this from Jeonghan?" Seungcheol nodded slowly, still in an awkward position, but his gaze remained fixated on your lips.

Closing his eyes, Seungcheol suppressed a surge of longing within him. "Give me," you demanded, suddenly unhooking the necklace. Your proximity was dangerously close, and he swore he could detect the scent of your body.

Seated again, you opened the necklace, revealing something Seungcheol had never known. "You can open it?" It turned out to be a flash drive. Plugging it into your phone, you discovered something crucial that you had been searching for – "The Black Files." Without hesitation, you showed Seungcheol the file on your phone and promptly sent it to Wonwoo.

In the tense atmosphere, with evidence of Joshua's betrayal in hand, Seungcheol's bodyguard unveiled a revelation that brought clarity to the mysteries lingering in Seungcheol's mind. You proposed an audacious plan to Seungcheol, urging him to seek Joshua's assistance for your swift departure to Japan tonight. Initially resistant due to the inherent danger involving you, Seungcheol hesitated, his internal struggle palpable.

"I could be a better fighter than you, Seungcheol," you confidently asserted, persuading him to entertain the daring idea. As Seungcheol reluctantly agreed to be part of the plan, you swiftly connected with Wonwoo, seeking his alliance in this perilous endeavor.

"I just have to hide on the boat and pretend I'm one of their people, right?" Wonwoo's words unveiled his cyber expertise, underscoring the contrast with his lack of field experience.

Rolling your eyes at Wonwoo's comment, you took charge, instructing him, "Pretend to sedate Seungcheol. I know they're after me for The Black Files." The gravity of the situation hung in the air as you navigated the intricate details with determination.

Hooking the necklace back onto Seungcheol's neck, you expressed gratitude, saying, "Thank you for taking care of my brother's stuff." The gesture carried a weight of acknowledgment and trust. As a token of appreciation, you kissed Seungcheol's left cheek, leaving a lingering sense of warmth amidst the impending dangers that lay ahead. 

 

*

 

"So, how have you been since then, Seungcheol?" you gently inquired, your voice breaking the silence that enveloped the car as the complexities of your mission unfolded.

"I'm having a very good life. I was dropped in Japan, and Wonwoo had left me without a word. He was a very cold man," Seungcheol revealed, his tone carrying a hint of abandonment that lingered from his past experiences.

"He is."

"Still? I don't understand how you're still a friend of his," he remarked, curiosity etched across his features, his gaze seeking understanding.

You smiled, your eyes studying his demeanor. "You're different, Seungcheol. I mean in a good way."

Seungcheol responded with a playful smirk, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "How do you know that just by our first session? Am I in good hands?"

Laughter bubbled from you, a refreshing sound amidst the tension. "Thanks for reaching me," you expressed sincerely, the gratitude apparent in your voice.

"I'm more grateful for you, for staying alive," Seungcheol confessed, acknowledging the significance of your presence in his life.

The conversation took an unexpected turn as you playfully probed, "Did you have a crush on me, Seungcheol?"

Caught off guard, Seungcheol blushed, attempting to articulate his feelings. "You know what? Yes, I did have a crush on you, and I might still. But how could someone not? You're amazing and—"

Before he could finish, a sudden peck landed on his lips, catching him by surprise. A genuine smile formed on his face, reflecting the warmth of the moment.

Seizing the opportunity, Seungcheol reached for your hand, pulling you closer. His touch was both gentle and possessive as he cradled your neck, initiating a more passionate exchange of kisses. What began as a simple peck evolved into a deeper connection, emphasizing the unspoken emotions between you.

"I actually like you," he admitted, the confession lingering in the air, signaling a shift in the dynamics of your relationship amidst the intricate dance of the mission's complexities.

 

*

 

"She's indeed so pretty," remarked Seungcheol, a university student whose gaze remained fixed on your figure as you fought fiercely to secure your position as a national Taekwondo athlete.

"Ya! Don't you see she's drenched in sweat? Disgusting..." Jeonghan mumbled, expressing his dissent to Seungcheol's admiration.

"No! I mean, she radiates beauty," Seungcheol clarified, his admiration for you evident in his eyes.

Jeonghan, unimpressed, rolled his eyes. "That's why I never asked you to come to her competition, you moron," he stated, walking away and leaving Seungcheol in a state of starstruck infatuation.

Seungcheol, determined, chased after Jeonghan, making a request that lingered in the air, "Introduce me to her."

"No!" Jeonghan bluntly refused.

"Come on..."

"I said no! Why are you so hard-headed?"

#densworld🌼 #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #seventeen imagine #seventeen seungcheol #seventeen scenarios #seventeen series #seventeen fic #seventeen drabbles #seventeen fanfiction #svt fic #svt angst #svt scenarios #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol smut #choi seungcheol #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol #seungcheol Mafia

[penkura]

OP Men as Dads Part 2

Note: I chose to do another five OP men for this one!! My brain won't shut off about these men being dads, I'm losing it omg. I hope these are good, I kind of struggled a little but just wrote whatever came to mind. Maybe I can do a part three at some point with more of them! I have a small idea for Mihawk and Franky, but that's it so far. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy! Sticking baby Ace for the image because I got nothing else lol.

Part One Here!

Kid is a boy dad, I’m sorry he just is. I can’t see him with a daughter really, unless she’s the youngest and was a surprise. But anyway! He’d have three boys that were all three years apart, and all are exactly like him. You really do love your sons and husband, but how you wish at least one of your boys was calm. The four of them are always roughhousing to the point you’ve had to set rules to keep from Kid accidentally hurting them, or your children from breaking things when he isn’t involved. When you have a set of twins a few years after your third son, another two boys, you’re done and just accepting your fate as a boy mom. You and Kid love all your boys though, neither of you would change anything, especially when your youngest ends up being a momma’s boy who’s finally calm and would rather spend his time with you than anyone else. Kid isn’t jealous, he swears.

~~

Usopp I can see with two girls! A few years between them, and they’re both the light of his life aside from you of course! Every story he tells them before bed makes them both so excited to grow up and become Pirates themselves, brave women of the sea! The oldest will want to help Usopp and Franky with inventions and fixing up the ship, while the youngest wants to be a sniper like her dad. You have no complaints about either one of those, more than grateful they both want to take after Usopp and following in his footsteps. Your girls absolutely love their dad, you get a little jealous sometimes, but getting to watch the three of them bond is your favorite thing in the world. It might make him a little emotional, especially after not having Yasopp around as he grew up.

~~

Shanks, I’m sure a lot are wondering about, would be such a great dad, we’ve seen him with Luffy and Uta, there’s no way he’d let down his biological kids imo. I see him with a son first, one with his hair that’s even more wild, and then twin girls! They’d all be about four years apart in age, but they’d run him ragged day in and day out. He'd teach your son how to wield a sword and help him develop his Haki, while your daughters will learn more hand to hand combat, though your youngest will join the sword lessons when she’s ready. When they’re little, he lets your girls put pins and braids in his hair, while telling all three of them stories about his time on the sea. The rest of the crew adores your children, Shanks knew they’d all be great uncles to your little ones.

~~

SHACHI WOULD SUCH A GOOD DAD OMG. You think I’m pushing Penguin propaganda, I’m here for Shachi now too. He’ll have two boys within two years of each other, yes the second is a surprise but so beyond welcomed, and then several years later a little girl that has all three of them wrapped around her finger! Your daughter would have his red hair, she’d just be the prettiest little thing, with chubby cheeks and her hair pulled back into two little ponytails. Your sons would have a mix between your hair and Shachi’s, both taking more after their dad in personality than anything. Of course, Shachi will teach all three of them to defend themselves, but especially your daughter since she’s the baby and he just wants her to be safe, even with her big brothers as her guardians.

~~

Rosinante, Corazon, however we wish to call him, he would be the best dad out of this group, I’m sure of it. Apart from taking in Law, he’d have two of his own children, a girl first and then a boy a couple years later. Law would act as a big brother to the two, it’d be the cutest thing ever. While your daughter would be outgoing and ready to take on the world, your son would much shier and would rather hide himself behind you or Corazon, normally his dad though. Corazon would NOT let Doflamingo around them; he’d probably keep the three of you a secret, maybe even his adoption of Law too, just to keep you all safe. He’s lost family before, he doesn’t want it to happen again, even if that means picking up and moving you all where his brother can’t find you. Apart from that, Corazon would make sure all of you had everything you needed, and your son would hold onto him through everything.  Your daughter would attach more to Law, but that’s perfectly fine, he’s accepted her as his new little sister and wants to protect her, he wants to protect your son too where he can. Your daughter would also want to keep her baby brother safe, not one of you would let a thing happen to a hair on his head. Corazon finally has a family again, a family of his own, he’s not letting anything happen to any of you anytime soon.

#one piece x reader #reader insert #fem!reader #eustass kid x reader #kid x reader #usopp x reader #shanks x reader #red hair shanks x reader #shachi x reader #op shachi x reader #corazon x reader #rosinante x reader #donquixote rosinante x reader #god usopp x reader #op men as dads

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@jegulus-microfic march 25 - eyeliner - 2341 words

<33 of losing babies and chance meetings in hawaii

Regulus rubs at his eyes, smudging the remains of eyeliner from the previous evening probably only more.

It’s been a wild night out given that Regulus found himself the only one out of his friend group appearing down for breakfast at the hotel’s buffet. He went for a classic hangover comfort food, coffee with beans and toast and while he longed for the sausages and eggs and fruit and frozen joghurt Regulus isn’t fool enough to think he would have been able to keep all of that down.

Sleep is already tugging at the corners of his mind again when he presses the elevator button to bring him back up to his hotel room to doze away another few more hours. There’s a nice breeze coming in from the double doors leading out to the pool and Regulus leans against the cooling marble of the wall, eyes closed, soaking it all in.

It’s been Pandora’s idea, to get the five of them out for a few days over easter, away from home. From work and family—not that the latter was much of Regulus’ concern—and Regulus must admit that this one is definitely one of her better experiments.

The elevator doors ding and Regulus blinks open his eyes and steps forward only to come to an immediate halt because— 

Because there’s a baby in the lift.

Just– all by itself.

Sitting in its buggy. Completely at ease.

Alone.

No like…parent or guardian inside.

What appears to be a small boy with the wildest sort of curly, black hair Regulus has ever seen sits in his seat, one spiderman sock barely hanging onto his toes, chewing away on a toy in his lap and gazing with big, intensely green eyes up at Regulus.

“Uh, hi there, baby,” Regulus says. He sets a foot onto the threshold to keep the doors open and bends down, “Where’s your family, buddy?”

The kid suddenly throws his little body back into the padding of his buggy with a blinding grin and a screech of what Regulus assumes to be ecstatic elation, “Pafoo!”

“Bless you, mate,” Regulus replies politely.

The little boy reaches his hands out to Regulus, “Out!”

And, well, the little bugger might be onto something here because as of right now Regulus must look like a right nutter talking to the inside of an elevator and if the little one’s parents are going to try and find him they’ll probably start at the elevator areas on each floor.

So Regulus gets the small kid out of the elevator and wheels him over to where a set of dark leather sofas and armchairs are gathered opposite the elevator doors.

When Regulus sits down across from the little boy he giggles, happy as ever, as if nothing was amiss.

Well, at least the one time Regulus finds a lost baby it’s a happy one. Lucky draw, he thinks.

The boy is back to chewing on the little rubber ring again and Regulus eyes him curiously, chin propped on his fist. The boy’s skin is a warm brown, similar to Evan’s and Pandora’s and there’s a faint layer of freckles dotting his nose—just like it will happen to Regulus after a few more days out under the Hawaiian sunshine. There’s a small patch of drool on his yellow shirt but he looks clean otherwise. 

After another moment of inner contemplation Regulus finally reaches out and tugs the sock back into place. 

The boy snickers, wiggling his foot and Regulus finds his lips tugging at the corners.

“Pafoo, out!” the boy repeats again.

Regulus frowns, “Yeah, mate, I already got us off the elevator.”

The little boy keeps squirming in his seat.

“Oh,” Regulus makes when it dawns on him, “Oh, out. Er– yes, sure, hold on.”

He scoots forward on the leather to inspect the little belt trapping the boy in his seat. Eventually Regulus finds the lock, figures out the mechanism and untangles the boy from his buggy. Before he has the chance to freeze and wonder if the boy is even old enough to be able to walk yet there are small, chubby arms reaching out to him and tangling around his neck.

“Oh, okay,” Regulus blinks, feeling his tiny body warm where it’s pressed into his chest, “Um, okay, I’m– okay, uh. Hi.”

The boy pulls back from the crook of Regulus’ neck, smiling brightly. “Hi,” he replies, sweet as sugar and waving a hand at him. Regulus’ heart does not melt.

Regulus’ eyes however clock the small bracelet on the boy’s wrist, donned with little letters spelling out the name Harry.

“Harry, huh?” he asks. “My name is Regulus.”

Harry makes another one of his loud, elated noises, “Pafoo!”

“Nah, mate, Re-gu-lus.”

“Pafoo,” Harry grins.

“Fine,” Regulus sniffs, “I guess I shouldn’t expect too much from a one or two year old.”

Harry giggles again, nose scrunching adorably and hiccuping little laughs into Regulus’ shoulder. 

If Regulus had ovaries he’s pretty sure they would be actively doing something right now which– is decidedly a disturbing thought to have. In a manner of trying to distract himself Regulus looks around, gaze landing on the socks once more.

“So what’s your favourite Spiderman movie, Harry?”

“Spidey!”

“Yes, which one?”

“Pafoo.”

“Mine’s probably the one with Andrew Garfield.”

“Mo!” Harry yells suddenly, pointing back at his buggy.

“Mo?” Regulus asks, confused.

“Mo,” Harry makes again, knocking his tiny, loosely curled fists against each other.

That’s when the clarity washes over Regulus, lips dropping open with a silent oh of understanding. It’s sign language for more. 

He’s seen young parents teach their babies sign language for easier communication and with Dorcas being hard of hearing Regulus and his friends obviously have taken on learning a whole lot as well. The basics are as easy for Regulus as English and French are by now.

“More of what?” Regulus asks, doing the according signs.

“Tea!” Harry responds, smiling brightly, clearly happy with being understood.

Regulus kicks at the buggy to turn it and then fishes a sippy cup out of the holder next to the handles.

Harry slurps away at his cold tea content and does the little gulp ahh thing small kids do when they exhale once they’re done drinking. 

Regulus does not think about adopting a baby.

“Harry!” someone calls from the end of the hall suddenly and may the gods stand by because the person running over is undoubtedly the most handsome man Regulus has ever seen.

The small boy in Regulus arms is literally a carbon copy what with the wild, black hair, the dark skin and the bright smile.

“Dada!” Harry yells, as if it wasn’t clear as day that they share the same DNA.

Regulus’ hands start sweating where they’re still around Harry’s now wiggling body, watching the young man rush over.

“Oh, god, thank you thank you,” the stranger chants, carefully lifting Harry out of Regulus’ hands, “Hi, baby, hi. Daddy’s here. Oh, holy fuck.”

Regulus snorts a little at the crude language but, alas, Harry is probably too young to remember anyways. 

He gives them their little moment of embracing, fighting against the restless squirming in his stomach, the thing scratching at the inside of his walls demanding to find out everything about the cute boy’s father.

Once the young father has got enough squeeze time and Harry starts trying to wiggle free, he lets out another string of curses, this time Spanish, and Regulus barely refrains from whimpering.

He has to trap another one behind his teeth when the man finally, actually glances at him, relief clear on his features, laughing breathlessly and chocolate brown eyes glinting happily and with ebbing nerves.

“Thank you, I’m–” the handsome stranger blinks a little, mouth working uselessly before he slips back into a lopsided grin, “Hi, I’m James, you- wow, hello, uh– thank you, um, for Harry. I’m so glad he’s okay, I’m James– by the way. And you are? Aside from my gorgeous knight in shining armour.”

Regulus cocks a brow, hands on his naked hips right above the elastic of his short running pants and below his cropped, black shirt with pink letters saying those are bold words for someone in stabbing range. It was a Christmas present from his friends and the first thing he saw after rolling out of bed with a hangover this morning, sue him.

“No problem, he’s a little sunshine,” Regulus replies, gazing at Harry where he’s fiddling with James’ necklace, “I’m Regulus.”

“Wait,” James says, jaw dropping, “Your name is—”

“James!” it comes from the other side of the hall, followed by another rush of footsteps and Regulus turns to see two more men jogging over to them. One of them being—

“Jesus, fuck, I’m so glad you found him,” Sirius says, eyes fixated on James and Harry.

Sirius, as in, Regulus’ older brother Sirius.

Sirius, as in, Regulus’ older brother that he hasn’t seen in four years.

Sirius with his long-ish hair falling down to his armpits now in long, soft curls. Sirius with his arms full of tattoos and wearing red bootie shorts and having pierced nipples and Sirius with pink cheeks and a relieved look on his face and Sirius having his fingers interlaced with another man’s.

Sirius blowing out another breath as he strokes the little boy’s cheek carefully, “Where’d you find h—”

Sirius that swivels and looks right at Regulus standing dumbfounded in a random hotel lobby on fucking Hawaii.

“Regulus.”

“Sirius.”

“I– what are you doing here?”

Regulus narrows his eyes, “I found Harry.”

“You what?”

“Are you deaf?” Regulus shoots back, “I found your friend’s baby.”

Sirius’ mouth drops open, “Excuse me, that is my godson.”

Regulus slips into a frown, suddenly and stupidly feeling a bit possessive over the little kid that is clearly taken with him but apparently supposed to be his older brother’s godson. 

He sniffs, crossing his arms, “Well, you’re clearly not doing your job well seeing as you’ve lost him. Also he called me his Pafoo.”

Regulus expects Sirius to volley back another insult, a counter-argument or something of the likes but instead he lets the loudest, most dramatic gasp rip from his throat.

“Oh God,” James mumbles, blanching but failing to keep his lips from twitching.

The man next to Sirius looks just as conflicted, instantly cooing into Sirius’ ear soothingly and rubbing his shoulder as this one whimpers like a wounded dog.

“What?” Regulus asks, looking at James.

The handsome father winces with a badly concealed grin before he ducks close, murmuring, “It’s Padfoot. That’s what we call Sirius, it’s sorta his nickname.”

Regulus can’t help it, the gleeful laugh bubbles right out of him. He could kiss little Harry right now.

“No!” Sirius wails, letting himself fall back into the lanky, taller man’s arms. “Betrayal!”

“Come now, Pads, he’s 18 months old,” the third man says soothingly.

“Remus is right,” James concurs, “Harry doesn’t even know my mum from our neighbour most times.”

“Effie doesn’t live with you,” Sirius cries out.

Regulus thinks there might actually be tears forming in his eyes.

“And neither do you,” James says pointedly, “You’re across the hall and you work full time, might I remind you. You’re over maybe four times a week.”

“Five! At least!”

“Sirius, darling, please stop yelling,” Remus mutters, glancing at a passing old couple with a wobbly smile.

Regulus grins, “No, please keep going, this is the highlight of my vacation so far.”

There’s a poke in his naked side and when Regulus looks over James is giving him a playful scolding glare.

Regulus digs his teeth into his lower lip, voice purposefully innocent, “What?”

“Don’t be a tease,” James chides but it sorta loses the edge with how wide he’s smiling.

“Or else?” Regulus counters.

James hums, giving Regulus a once over before clearing his throat, looking back at his friend, “Here, Moons, can you take Harry for a second?”

Sirius makes an affronted noise, looking downright stricken and he quickly takes Remus’ outstretched hands, pulling, what is presumably his boyfriend, out of reach for James. “Two Potters in one day!? Prongs, are you trying to kill me?”

James sighs, pulling Harry back against his hip which then decides to reach out his hands to Sirius, “Pafoo.”

“That’s right,” Sirius sniffs, crossing the distance and ripping Harry from James’ hold, “I love you, little stinker. You’ll get it with time, I know you will. You’re such a smart boy, Hazza.”

Harry immediately starts playing with the thin braids in Sirius’ hair and his brother swivels to level Regulus with a triumphant smirk.

“Whatever,” Regulus says, crossing his arms again.

But before jealousy, no matter over whom, can spread itself in Regulus’ chest, Sirius is stepping closer.

Regulus is certain their flip flops nearly touch and Sirius is staring at him intensely with the same eyes he sees in the mirror every day, and it makes him swallow. The freckle over Sirius’ mouth is just the same as four years ago, as is the one on Regulus’ temple. 

“There’s a baby swimming lesson at the pool I wanted to attend with Harry later at 2,” Sirius says, voice husky, “Care to join?”

Regulus was supposed to meet the others back in Barty and Evan’s room at 3 but they’re probably passed out until then anyways. “I think I can make some time,” he replies airily.

Sirius blows out a heavy breath through his nose, before slipping into a grin, “Good.”

“Good,” Regulus mimics.

“I bet Harry floats better than you,” Sirius taunts, “Do you still sink like a stone?”

“It’s amazing how much of a talent you still possess for making me regret things,” Regulus snips back.

Sirius bumps their shoulder together, making Harry giggle and Regulus purses his lips in an effort to hide his smile.

And then James is there on the other side of him, taking Harry back from Sirius and smiling sweetly down at Regulus and for some reason his cheeks feel a little warmer suddenly.

—

[also for personal reasons i need everyone to know these were the booty shorts sirius was wearing]

#dad james potter #i'm rewatching modern family and mitch and cam lost lily in an elevator on hawaii so now we have this #jegulus #jegulus microfic #starchaser #sunseeker #wolfstar #baby harry potter #toddler harry potter #lune writes #lune’s tiny fic #regulus black #james potter #black brothers #sirius black

[r-f-m-writes]

A Lark In a Hollow Chapter One

Really, she doesn't have a choice.

Lark barely remembers the huge shadow of a man sitting beside her in the dead heat of Mrs. Poppy's office at the children's home. He is silent, stoic, and completely terrifying.

Christopher Hollow.

Muscled.

Six foot five.

Storm blue eyes.

Dog tags outlined under the straining stretch of his black tee-shirt.

"Lark," Mrs. Poppy says, gently, "you're happy with this arrangement? You want to go with your Godfather?"

There's no money left for her to live off until she finds a job - if she finds a job.

Her Dad is dead.

Lark doesn't have a choice.

Lark Douglas didn’t know who Christopher Hollow was when Mrs. Poppy brought his name up to her on a hot Saturday afternoon in her office. The additional details that he had served with her Dad in Afghanistan and was her appointed legal guardian and Godfather did nothing to help jog Lark’s memory.

      In fact, it was a full week after Mrs. Poppy informed Lark of Christopher Hollow’s existence that the girl finally managed to scrounge up a single, short, fuzzy memory of the man.

         She was home.

         The door to their flat was open, the old ceiling fan had been turning in slow circles over her head. It did nothing to fight against the mid July heat that was so stifling and muggy it made her skin stick to the linoleum floors. She had sat on the couch playing with Labrador, her stuffed toy dog, when Mom walked in with someone.

        Lark was five, she thinks, and she hadn’t paid attention to anything that was being said, or looked at who had stepped the room after her mother. She only glanced up from where she was making her stuffed dog do backflips off the worn-down couch cushions when big, black boots stepped into her vision off the edge of the sofa.

       The man who stood in front of her was tall, wearing camo pants and a fitted grey tee-shirt. His face was hard to remember, but Lark thought he had sandy brown hair and the start of a thick brown beard. He had crouched down, setting aside a battered black duffle bag, looking at her like he expected something.

     Lark had only stared at him.

      Mom’s voice had a strain in it when she spoke.

     “Say hi to Chris, baby. He’s come all the way from the airport just to see you.”

     The man spoke before Lark had the chance. He had a deep, rough rumbly voice.

     “Don’t worry her about it, Lori. Been two years. I’d be surprised if Pet remembered me at all.”

      Pet.

      That was the only memory Lark had of Christopher.

      She wasn’t even sure it was real and not just something she had made up in the recesses of her mind as an unconscious effort to help herself fill in the gaps and feel less uncertain.

     She had lots of memories like that.

      Memories no one else could verify. Memories she wasn’t sure happened, but couldn’t shake as being real.

      This was what led Lark to where she stood at the top of the worn flight of wooden stairs.  Seventeen years old, dressed in clothes that didn’t belong to her, feeling entirely unsure of what the future would hold.

      Seventeen, and only three weeks and four days shy of her eighteenth birthday.

     It was ridiculous.

     Stupid, even.

     Why couldn’t she just wait it out at the girl’s home?

     Why was Mrs. Poppy was obligated, by law, to reach out to relatives Lark had never even heard of and negotiate with them down the phone, asking and then, after the eighth rejection, pleading with each of them to come and pick her up?

      “Just a month - no, no, you wouldn’t have to commit to adoption, Mrs. Tanner - not at all. I am only reaching out because Lark is your niece, and I am sure you want the best for her -”

     The list thinned, name by name. Lark saw them each time Mrs. Poppy opened the manilla envelope with her initials on it, glancing over the struck off phone numbers and feeling nothing.

    The rejections didn’t surprise her.

    She knew from lived experience how reluctant people were to help a stranger.

     It took less than half a week for them to reach the last one.

     His name.

     Christopher Hollow.

     He was who Lark was waiting for as she hung onto the banister, her dark eyes fixed on the panes of frosted glass in the door, anticipating seeing a shadow blot across the panels when he stepped onto the porch and rang the buzzer.

     Floorboards creaked.

     Lark moved too late when Mrs. Poppy stepped out of her office that stood at the side of the stairs. The stacked blonde beehive of her hair bobbing into the girl’s view as Lark tried to scurry back out of her sight.

    Too little, too late.

    The kind wrinkles around Mrs. Poppy’s eyes doubled and deepened as the sound made her look upward and spot Lark.

     “Lark, there you are! I was just about to come and find you, dear. Nip down into my office for a moment, I’ve got some things I want to discuss with you before Mr. Hollow arrives.”

    The old stairs squeaked loudly as the girl walked sheepishly down the grossly worn-out blue carpet runner, rounding the curved banister at the bottom to follow Mrs. Poppy into her office.

    It was sun warm inside, light spilling over the faded hardwood floor and shiny varnish of the big, brown desk, highlighting the dozens of ring-marks stained into its top by mugs of coffee past. Mrs. Poppy rounded the desk, having to skirt sideways between the edge of it and the rows of heavy metal file drawers that flanked the room on all sides.

   Taking her perch in a black wheely chair, the woman gestured for Lark to sit in one of the two big, green, retro velvet sofas that faced her desk.

      Sinking down into her seat, Lark folded her hands in her lap and looked at the woman, waiting to be spoken to. She had been thoroughly taught from a young age that she was to be seen and not heard. There had also been plenty of occasions when Lark wasn’t to be seen or heard. Those were moments when her half empty pink, princess wardrobe came in handy.

        Mrs. Poppy placed a pair of up-swept cat eye spectacles on the tip of her tall, gently crooked nose, and took out a notepad. It was one of dozens she had, this particular piece of stationary sported Lark’s name on its front, written in black pen and then broadly underlined in purple marker.

       “Miss Douglas today is a big one for you. How are you feeling, hon? Excited? Nervous?”

        The soft slip of her southern accent calmed Lark some as she fought against the urge to fidget, keeping her fingers still in her lap.

        “Excited, Ma’am. Dad didn’t like to travel much, so seeing the Appalachians sounds like a real adventure.”

        Lark stuck a quick smile onto the end of her lie. She had rehearsed it in her head a hundred times since she was told the good news a week before.

        Christopher Hollow wanted her.

        He was driving the whole way down the coast from his home in the Appalachian Mountains to come and collect her. Lark couldn’t even comprehend where the Appalachian Mountains stood, just that they were stupendously far away.

        Mrs. Poppy grinned at Lark, genuine and radiant, as she wrote something in fast scratching cursive over and empty line of the notepad.

       “Always such an optimist, Lark. I’m sure Mr. Hollow will be delighted by you.”

        Lark’s left thumb twitched. When she smiled, it felt tight in the corners, “I certainly hope so, Ma’am.”

        And she truly did. Lark knew the way men behaved when they weren’t delighted by her.

~R.F.M~

         A fist gripped long, brown hair tightly enough to tear dozens of strands out of Lark’s scalp as she was dragged down the hallway by her head, the girl’s frame stooped almost to the floor as she clawed at the hands restraining her.

       “Fucking little bitch coming to steal from me? Think you’re slick, huh?”

         In honesty, Lark did.

        She had stolen from the man before on countless occasions, rummaging through the contents of his worn leather wallet, fishing out loose coins and dollar notes that wouldn’t be missed. Before, he was always too out of his mind to realize, so Lark had gotten greedy.

        Twenty dollars was a lot of money to people like them. She was foolish for thinking she could snatch it away without his notice.

       Lark didn’t know his name, or his age, or anything about him other than the fact he bought pot on Thursday afternoons and left the door to his apartment wide open with 90’s music playing full volume while he sat out on his balcony in a beat-up pink recliner, back to the living room, smoking.

         By all accounts, the man wasn’t very smart. But he was still a man, a man much stronger than Lark.

#ao3 original work #orignal character #orignal writing #ao3 writer #archive of our own #a lark in a hollow #original male character #original female character #original novel #original work #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #shortandsweet #short and sweet #sweet'nshort #rfmwrites

[calmcoldevening]

Hellow! I just comeback to tumblr after a long time away from this magic space and i wish (and request if is possible 👉🏻👈🏻) if you can write a one shot where the reader was adopted after Charlie finished a family, she was a baby then and grow up as a Hewitt basically so Thomas is her “step brother” but when they grow and they start doing the “family business 🔪 “ they protect each other, he protects her physically and she protects him emotionally also she finish some girls who make fun of Thomas, basically they found that both have feelings for each other…hope i didn’t ask a mess 🥺 by the way, i love your content 🖤

Omg, thank you so much, really ♡⁠ And I like your idea, so I hope you will like it))

Thomas Hewitt x reader

Tw: mention on murders, cannibalism, a little hurt/comfort, reader and Thomas are not the real siblings, jealousy

Almost no one remembers how you got into this family anymore. At one point, Hoyt just carried you in his arms, frowning at Luda. The woman carefully picked you up in her arms, your big curious eyes looked around the room and the people present with interest. Surprisingly, you weren't scared, even though you didn't understand where you were. People were talking loudly, but you didn't understand any of it.

But it only took a couple of minutes, and a strange man appeared in your field of vision. Kid. He was a boy of about five with long black hair, and his face was covered in bandages in some places. The woman said something to him, and the boy awkwardly approached you, looking at your little body with curiosity and some fear. You smiled almost reflexively and held out your hands to him. The woman grinned and gently laid you down in the boy's arms. You curled up blissfully on his chest, closing your eyes and relaxing. The boy started rocking you. It was so nice and warm. You fell asleep almost immediately.

Thomas. That was the boy's name. Thomas Hewitt, your older brother Tommy. He has always been kind and gentle towards you. Of course, your whole family was good, even if it was peculiar, but still Tommy seemed the most dear to you. It has always been so.

The boy was constantly protecting you. At home or in the outside, it doesn't matter, Thomas always tried to be with you, like your personal guardian angel.

As the years passed, Thomas was already in school. You were about four years old when you started noticing something was wrong. Tommy came home from school, and his body was covered with a lot of bruises, dried blood was visible on the bandages. It happened a lot. But when you tried to ask Thomas about it, he was silent, turning away from you.

Your childish mind was still unable to make up a whole picture of such situations.

So the only thing that came to your mind was to cheer Tommy up. He was sitting on the bed when you entered the room. Awkwardly walking with your little legs, you came closer to him, smiling. Without thinking twice, you climbed onto the bed next to him. Taking one of his hands, you began to glue small patches on his wounds.

"It hurts, brother?" you ask softly, looking up at Thomas. The guy can't help but smile. He gently runs his free hand through your hair, and shakes his head negatively. You giggle contentedly and put your arms around his neck, climbing into the boy's lap. Thomas hugs you back tenderly, and in those warm hugs you feel like your brother is protecting you from the whole world.

Already in the middle of school, Thomas started working with Charlie at the slaughterhouse, but you just stayed at home after graduation. By nature, you were a child who was much weaker than Thomas, even though you were very smart and cunning. Besides, Luda didn't want you to see all these horrors of murder from such an early age. You didn't resist her views.

After all, after school you worked at one of the grocery stores in the city. Even if they didn't pay that much because of your age and the fact that it was your unofficial job, it was already something. Therefore, every day you brought home either money or food immediately, which Luda was immensely happy about. Unlike Tommy, you grew up to be quite an active and curious child, you were often the first to take the initiative in various matters. Therefore, at the age of ten you were quite good at helping People around the house, and at fifteen you were already fully cooking. You didn't particularly like the fact that Luda spends almost all her time doing household chores, so you tried to give her as much rest as possible. She was very happy to have such a child.

As the years passed, the city emptied as time passed. The closure of the slaughterhouse has greatly affected the peaceful course of life in the city. After a while, only your Hewitt family remained in the city. It's not that you love other people, it's just that you were sorry that the usual way of life was changing. But as long as you're with your family, you don't care about other people.

Due to the fact that there was not much food in the city, and it was not possible to travel outside it often, gradually you did not have enough food. You just accepted it, and you didn't ask any questions.

Until one day Charlie gave some strange speech.

You could feel the tension in the air when you all gathered at the table. It was a little awkward. The room was dark, with only a small chandelier above the table being the only source of pale yellow light. As usual, you folded your hands on your chest in prayer before eating, when Charlie said a prayer to God. No, not Charlie, Hoyt. Your eyes were darting around the room. You saw the tense shoulders of the Woman and the way her forehead wrinkled because of the eyebrows drawn together. Hoyt wasn't as tense, and yet there was some excitement in his voice. Uncle Monty was no different from his usual self, he just kept quiet.

Eating people. It was.. strange. Wrong. How could Hoyt say that in order to survive, you have to eat people? And this strange soup with rather tough meat.

You looked at Tommy. He was sitting next to you, his huge figure only added some kind of horror to the atmosphere of the room. And yet, under the table, he took your little hand in his big palm, squeezing it in comfort. You understood that it was necessary. If Tommy said it was necessary, then you will obey. You nodded curtly and started eating.

Gradually you got used to the new way of life. You spent whole days helping People around the house or at her gas station store, and in the evening you spent time with Tommy. You are used to strange strangers appearing in your house several times a week, and new meat appears on the table that evening. You no longer paid attention to the screams or the blood, you lived as usual. The only thing you didn't like was that Tommy was now more tired and exhausted by the end of the day. After working with meat for a long time, he would come to your room, you would sit on the bed. He would climb onto your bed and put his head on your hips, seeking comfort. You began to gently stroke his tangled black hair. He closed his eyes with a smile. Your hands gently find the clasp of the mask on the back of his head. Thomas reflexively tenses up at first, but immediately lets you take off the mask. He looks up at you and you smile, caressing his cheeks with your hands. Every time such a sight made a pleasant warm feeling appear in your chest, you wanted to see this smile more often. After a long hug, you fell asleep on the same bed, cuddling up to each other.

Such a life has become commonplace. And although you tried to be indifferent to all the victims who come to this house, in the end, they will all end up being your dinner, you couldn't ignore how these pathetic bastards treated Tommy. Especially those screaming and crying girls.

Thomas was sharpening a knife in his basement when you went down there and saw a girl tied to a table. Her makeup was smeared, and her face was red and swollen from crying and screaming. She was obviously pretty tired already. And yet, the girl continued to try to pull out, shouting some obscenities. She probably already realizes that she is doomed. And yet, her body is still filled with animal fear. You walk down the stairs, your arms folded across your chest. Thomas is not paying attention to you, he is completely focused on his work. And from there he stands over the bound girl. His palm slowly slides over her trembling stomach, breasts, and finally stops on her face, caressing her cheeks. Your heart strangely, almost painfully contracts at the sight of this scene. The girl wriggles and cries, calling Thomas a freak and a brainless animal. You can't see his face, but you can feel him frowning. In an instant, he raises his hand with a cleaver over the girl and forcefully drives it into the girl's body, cutting her fragile neck with an unpleasant crunch. She gurgles, choking on her own blood. You slowly approach Thomas, hugging him from behind. Your hands are clutching the fabric of his shirt under his apron.

"She's lying, Tommy. She's just stupid. You are not an animal, you are the most wonderful man in the world," you whisper and feel him relax under your embrace. He throws the cleaver on the floor. The man turns to face you and wraps you in a tight hug, burying his nose in your hair. He's always been soothed by your scent.

You were really annoyed by these rude victims of the girl. That's why you often began to deal with them yourself. Something inside you rejoiced when you silenced their vile mouth.

You were in the kitchen, as usual, making an apple pie. Humming something to yourself, you moved around the kitchen in a relaxed way, enjoying the cooking process. Suddenly, you heard the faint crackle of the stairs leading to the basement. The third step from below was flimsy and always creaked. But under Tommy's weight, it was a more distinct sound. Now the sound was almost inaudible, as if someone was sneaking around, trying not to attract attention. When you turned around, you saw a fragile girl covered in blood. Her right hand looked like a bloody mess, so she held it with her good hand. Was it Tommy's toy? A strange anger has boiled up inside you. You grabbed the knife you were using to cut apples. It was a sharp knife that Hoyt sharpened for you not so long ago. Slowly approaching the girl from behind, you abruptly wrapped your arms around her, exposing the blade with the tip to her stomach. The girl was filled with an almost animal panic and she reflexively rushed forward, trying to escape from your grip. She made it worse for herself. Her flesh was instantly pierced by a sharp blade. You felt her body convulsing, and cherry blood instantly stained your hands. The knife went into her stomach almost to the hilt when she went limp in your hands. Hoyt would probably scold you for spoiling the meat right now. But you don't care. It felt so light and pleasant when you finished off this girl who called Thomas names not so long ago when he dealt with her friends. No one dared to call your boy that, absolutely no one.

But it wasn't any easier for Thomas.

He saw all those sidelong glances from the victims, all those lascivious smiles in your direction. It annoyed him so much. Thomas killed such victims with particular cruelty. You were his gentle and innocent flower, who had been kind to him since childhood. Thomas cherished you. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if something happened to you. Your soft hair, sweet smell and sweet smile. All of this made his heart flutter. But in those moments when the escaped victims tried to take you with them, his chest was filled with a feeling of anger and hatred. No one will dare to take away his flower, his ray of light in this dark life.

But there was something strange about it, something he couldn't explain. When the victims tried to flirt with you, unaware of the danger, or when they touched you unobtrusively, his blood boiled. There was something else besides the desire to protect. Mine. Mine. MINE. The voice kept repeating in his head when some guy at the gas station tried to hug you. That same night, he cut off his limbs. There was something else besides his brother's affection. It wasn't right, was it? But all your smiles, touches, and tenderness made Thomas want you for himself alone. He wanted to hold you close and show you in every way that he loves you. He loves me very much. Will you understand him? Or do you only see him as a brother? Thomas knows, he clearly remembers the day when Charlie brought your baby to this house. Even then, Thomas swore with his heart that he would protect and take care of you. You're not his blood sister, so maybe...? Will you love such a freak? After all, all the victims talked about him that way. A freak, an animal, a monster. Do you see him differently? He doesn't want to scare you or disgust you, no. He wants to love you. He wants you for himself.

It was a surprisingly rainy day. You were sitting on the porch, hugging your knees. The rain was pounding on the roof of the house, and there was a strong smell of humidity and wet dust in the air. There wasn't a soul around. There haven't been any new victims in the last few days, so you could definitely rest. Luda, along with Hoyt and Monty, went to a nearby town to check on someone from relatives, so you and Thomas were alone. Quiet and peaceful.

A man was watching you through the open front door. Your gentle image warmed his heart in a pleasant way. Maybe...?

You heard heavy footsteps approaching, and your body almost reflexively relaxed. A warm blanket was placed on your shoulders, and Thomas himself sat on the porch next to you. Even sitting down, he was much taller than you. Thomas stared ahead for a long time, watching the chaotic raindrops. His dark hair was even more curly from the humidity. Finally, he turned to face you, looking down at you. His blue eyes bored into your face for a long time. Finally, he took your hands in his, squeezing them gently. His rough thumbs massaged your hand skin in gentle circles, he frowned a little, obviously thinking about something.

Then he dropped one of your hands. The man pointed at himself. Then he put his hand to his lips, kissing her, and brought his hand to his heart. Then he pointed his finger at you.

I. Love. You.

Your cheeks instantly flushed when you looked down. Your heart was pounding wildly in your chest, echoing in your ears. Did he have the same feelings for you? Or did you get it all wrong? But you are a family..

"I love you too, big brother," you say in the most innocent way, looking at the wet wooden boards of the porch.

Thomas frowns and grabs your face with his free hand, forcing you to look at him. You look up, meeting his eyes. The man's blue eyes are filled with longing and a strange warmth. He shooks his head.

You feel overwhelmed by emotions. How have you always been able to communicate so clearly, even without words? Some kind of pleasant tender feeling blossoms in your chest. You wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly and burying your nose in his shoulder. The smell of metal and dust mixed with the sweet natural scent of his body. The smell that always calmed you down. Thomas hugs you back, stroking your back with his big hand.

A little later, you pull away. You have a strange strong desire, his lips look full and beautiful to you. Leaning forward, you gently kiss him through the mask, he responds. Your kiss is wet and clumsy, but filled to the brim with feelings. Thomas squeezes you tightly in his arms, wanting to shut you off from the rest of the world. You are his, his and only his. You may not be his sibling, but you are his family.

#slashers x reader #slashers fandom #slashers x you #slashers #thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt

[yaravella]

Netflix and Chill with HSR Men

Pairings: Sampo, Gepard, Dan Heng, Blade, Jing Yuan x Reader (separately)

Masterlist

Requests are open

Warning: Suggestive theme

Sampo Koski

He doesn't subscribe to Netflix or any streaming service, he pirated series and movies.

He texted, "Heyyyy my baby my love my sunshine, I got the new Guardian of Galaxy. Your place or mine?"

He will prepare a lot of snacks and drinks.

Watching it on your laptop on your bed.

Genuinely interested at first but when the plot slowed down, his hands will travel to your body and he started to make out with you.

Stealing glances once in a while to the tv while kissing you and pleasuring you. 

You had a hard time staying in the mood though because you were laughing at something on the laptop and ruined the mood.

"Sorry, Sampo…" you giggled while Sampo was trying hard to get you off, "I can't do this."

Both of you then would be too engrossed in what's happening in the film and end up cuddling or stuffing your faces with snacks.

"Should have chosen something boring," Sampo murmured as he stuffed his mouth with a fist of snacks. 

Jing Yuan

Choosing the best time of day is crucial.

He's mostly busy though so you usually only watch films with him on the weekend. 

He felt too comfortable around you so most likely will end up with him dozing off for a few minutes, several times.

"Wake me up in five," He said as he put his head on your thigh. 

As soon as he puts his head there, you can hear a soft snore from him.

Sleep easier when you play with his hair. It's his number 1 weakness. 

Of course you don't have the heart to wake him up since he had a busy week, even though that means you have to watch the movie alone.

Once he wakes up he will ask how's the plot so far.

Gepard Landau

Really excited to watch movies with you.

Enjoys anime, thriller series and even drama.

Gets easily moved by the plot. Will shed tears if the movie is sad. 

If you watch a horror film, he will cover his ears and scoot closer to you.

"I'm more scared of the sound effect rather than the visual."

But he'll shut his eyes tightly if the scene gets too terrifying.

When you make a move at him, he will act shy and glance at you in disbelief 

"Please, I'm watching right now."

But once you start to kiss him, he'll give in and follow the flow.

Once you both finished the deed, he will rewind the movie to the last scene you guys left off.

Dan Heng

Will be the one to recommend movies to watch

Will provide you with brief synopsis and trivia about the movie before you guys watch

"It gets a high score in Letterboxd." He said to convince you to watch.

Of course you're not really looking forward to watching, you look forward to cuddling on his bed.

Or more than cuddling.

However, he will be annoyed if you disturbed him watching.

But once he realized you were demanding his attention, he would pause the movie and rain you with kisses.

Blade

You know there would be no "Netflix-ing" with Blade and more "Chilling"

But you recommend watching a movie with him anyway. 

He will let you pick anything you want. 

He made comments throughout the movie several times, how ridiculous the plot is, how bad the acting is.

"Seriously, the joke is so corny."

"What the hell is wrong with his hair."

His comments annoyed you sometimes. 

10 mins after the movie he made his move towards you.

Started to touch you (in inappropriate places) while still making comments about the movies.

The commentary drives you nuts (and also his fingers) so you shut him up by kissing him hard (or by giving him a head…)

AN: Me if writing sleepy Jing Yuan is a crime:

Hope you enjoyed this!

#hsr x reader #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #gepard honkai #gepard landau x reader #gepard x reader #honkai star rail #blade x you #sampo koski #sampo koski x reader #jing yuan #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr sampo #hsr dan heng #hsr smut #blade hsr #blade x y/n #hsr blade #blade x reader

[xhmeusworld]

keep on the sunny side | lee jihoon

genre: paramedic! jihoon, single parent! reader, fluff

pairings: lee jihoon x gender neutral reader

warnings: seizures, child injury, medical terms (not a lot but some), jihoon does cpr

word count: 1.7k

note: okay so i work in a hospital and i love paramedics so paramedic jihoon was born. i may return back to this idea if you guys were like me too :)

lee jihoon wasn’t the type that expressed his emotions freely. it wasn’t that he didn’t feel them. truly, he felt everything deeply.

anger, sadness, excitement. they consumed his very existence, but in his line of work, it was just easier to pretend that he felt nothing. it was easier to get through the day if he remained as stoic as possible.

his coworkers often questioned him about the front he created. did seeing sickness and death 24/7 not affect him at all? how could he move from a fatality call to a car accident without even showing a hint of grief? only his partner, a boy named minghao, understood that jihoon was indeed deeply affected by the things he encountered.

so deeply affected that the only thing he could do to survive was to shove the feelings deep inside, not allowing them to resurface.

however, there’s one thing he always remembers.

eight.

that’s how many children jihoon had lost in his career.

it was honestly rare that he and minghao received calls involving children. it had been a couple of years since the last one, but the universe seemed to decide that tonight was the night to reset the cycle.

the call came in around two in the morning. jihoon never heard the 911 call itself or read the transcript. the information was just relied to him and minghao in an urgent manner and then they were off.

the ride would have been peaceful if jihoon wasn’t on duty. the streets were empty, the stores were closed. everything was at peace.

that was until the sound of sirens cut through the night, ruining and disturbing any sense of tranquility that had existed.

unit 205, we have a five-year old male unresponsive as a result of a grand-mal seizure. there has been documented history of cerebral palsy since birth, but his mother reports no history of seizures prior.

when minghao and jihoon reached the scene, racing up to the apartment number that given to them by dispatch, jihoon only had one thought in his mind.

please don’t let this be number nine.

jihoon didn’t even have time after he knocked on apartment 24 to ask questions because as soon as the door flew open, he immediately knew that he and minghao needed to act. now.

a five-year old boy was on the living room floor, convulsing. a dark blue guardian helmet covered what appeared to be his unruly black hair and jihoon breathed a sigh of relief that at least there was no possibility of head trauma.

“i- i don’t know what happened,” you stuttered out. “noori just woke up and we were sitting on the couch together and he started having a seizure. he’s never had one before!” a sob escaped your lips. “please, you have to save my baby. he’s all I have!”

minghao and jihoon quickly got to work to administer diazepam, which was meant to immediately stop the seizure. jihoon hated using diazepam as it had to be used rectally and he thought it took all respect away from the patient, but he had no other choice as a result of the boy’s unconscious state.

jihoon rolled the young boy into his side as gently as he could muster in a hurry as minghao carefully gave the diazepam. thankfully, it worked like it was supposed to and the boy’s muscles instantly relaxed.

you let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding, but jihoon knew it was too soon to start celebrating. he was proven right when minghao searched for a pulse.

“he’s not breathing! start compressions!”

without hesitation, jihoon pressed his hands into the little boy’s chest, counting the all too familiar numbers out, his voice sounding exhausted. “1, 2, 3… he tried to ignore the sickening crack that sounded, signaling that he had broken the boy’s ribs.

“come on, noori, breathe for me,” the dark-haired boy begged, hitting thirty and stopping the compressions as minghao yelled “hold!” his partner’s fingers reached out to feel for a pulse. “start again!”

jihoon resumed his position. “1, 2, 3…” he tried to ignore the cries from you who was currently being consoled by the other paramedics who had just arrived as backup.

strands of his dark hair fell out of his small ponytail, covering his face and he cursed over the fact that he hadn’t found the time to get a much needed haircut.

“hold!” jihoon paused the compressions. “resume, no pulse!”

starting the third set of compressions caused a huge sense of panic to run through lee jihoon. most child patients responded by the second set and here he was on number ten of a third.

all he could repeat was please don’t be number nine.

“jihoon, i think we have to call it,” minghao spoke, quietly, hoping to god you didn’t hear him over the other paramedics. “his heart isn’t beating.”

one word popped into jihoon’s mind.

no.

and he kept going.

and thank god he did because almost if the young boy knew that he was about to ruled dead, his eyes flew open and he sucked in a breath.

“noori, my son, my sweet boy,” you cried as jihoon finally relaxed his tense muscles.

he did it. lee jihoon didn’t reach number nine.

•••

months had passed since jihoon and minghao loaded the young boy and you into an ambulance. you had your entire attention on your son as to be expected, but as jihoon monitored noori’s vitals and ensured the seizures were not going to resume, he had to force himself to not look at your face.

the dark-haired boy thought you were one of the most beautiful human beings he had ever seen and the pure love you had for your child made jihoon even more attracted to you. he attempted to shove the thoughts into the back of his mind as best as he could.

he was doing his job. that was it.

and that’s what he kept telling himself even as he sat staring at his computer at his local coffee shop.

jihoon had decided to take a day off to get caught up on necessary tasks he could do remotely. he had completed most of everything he needed to do, but his thoughts were so tangled with you that he didn’t even notice that someone was stumbling toward him until he felt weight in his lap.

he looked down to see a familiar sweet face.

“oh my god, I’m sorry! normally, he doesn’t just run up to new people and oh-“ recognition dawned on the your face as jihoon watched you take in his features.

the dark-haired boy smiled as he patted the head of the boy who was lying across his lap. “it’s nice to see you again.” noori’s guardian helmet dug into jihoon’s thighs. it did not feel pleasant and he was sure there were going to be bruises covering him tomorrow, but he didn’t mind. this boy had touched his heart in many ways.

while he was aware that noori had survived and recovered days after he saved his life, jihoon couldn’t stop himself from thinking about not only the boy, but you as well. were you holding up okay? did the hospital provide you any resources to help with noori’s care since it was just you as the caretaker? how were you surviving everything on your own?

minghao teased him that he had a crush on you. jihoon insisted that he was just concerned, but now looking at you in the cafe and knowing that your son had formed an attachment to him as well, maybe his partner was right.

his heart was beating quick. his palms felt sweaty. and he desperately tried to ignore the utter joy that entered his heart when you beamed at him. him and your son.

“i thought after noori’s episode i wouldn’t see you again to thank you,” you explained. “you saved his life. you helped me keep my son and i didn’t know if i could reach out to you because HIPAA laws and-“

jihoon couldn’t control the the smile that crawled onto his face at your rambling. god, it was cute. you were cute.

“you don’t have to thank me at all,” he explained. “i was doing my job.” jihoon patted noori’s shoulder one more time as the young boy shifted awkwardly into a sitting position. “it looks like noori remembers who i am.”

you tucked your hair behind your ear, almost shyly. “yeah, once he was at the hospital, i don’t he understood that you were a paramedic. although he can’t talk, i could tell he wondered why you weren’t coming into his hospital room.”

noori slowly got to his feet, wobbling his way back to you, his guardian helmet resting against your thigh. almost instinctively, you wrapped your arm around him.

“well, i would have checked on him but once you guys were out of my care, I didn’t have any information to find where you guys went,” jihoon stated, shutting his laptop. “but i’m glad I get to see you guys now.”

you grinned. “we’re glad to see you too, jihoon.”

you knew his name? he was going to die.

“and i absolutely hate to cut this conversation short, but noori has a doctors appointment in about half an hour and we should start heading that way.”

jihoon nodded, his brain turning into a thousand of circles. he didn’t want you to leave. “oh okay. maybe I’ll see you around?”

“yeah, maybe.” there’s your cute smile again. “bye, jihoon.”

“bye y/n. bye noori.”

you started toward the exit to the coffee shop something in jihoon’s mind told him that he couldn’t let you walk away. he absolutely couldn’t and before he knew it, he was on his feet.

lee jihoon wasn’t the type that went for what he wanted. it was easier to just let things happen naturally. no point in interfering with the universe. if didn’t happen without him doing anything, then it wasn’t meant to be.

but you were different. he knew you were different and he couldn’t just let you and your son walk out the door.

“hey, y/n, wait!”

you jumped at the sound of jihoon’s voice, your hand tightening around noori’s. your other hand pressed against the door of the coffee shop, holding it open. you were shocked by the boy racing up to you and the only word that seemed to leave your mouth was “yes?”

now that jihoon had your attention, his courage was almost completely gone. what if you said no? what if you laughed in his face? he was just a paramedic. you weren’t obligated to tell him yes just because he saved your son’s life.

the dark-haired boy awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck as he studied your face, looking for any sign of discomfort.

“um, uh- would you like to go on a date sometime?”

#kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt x reader #svt #kpop au #woozi #woozi x reader #svt woozi #lee jihoon #svt jihoon #jihoon x reader #seventeen jihoon #seventeen mingyu #svt seungkwan #svt minghao #seventeen vernon #seventeen dino #seventeen smut #seungcheol #seventeen soonyoung #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen masterlist #jeonghan #joshua hong #wen junhui

[clairewritesjjkxreader]

Yakuza x Cinderella AU Part 1 (Sukuna x Reader)

A/N: I listened to Sukuna’s Russian voice dub while writing this. Gave me some cool gangster vibes.

Everyone would have understood if you shed the “Itadori” name after old man Wasuke passed away, and no one would have blamed you if you walked away from being Yuuji Itadori’s legal guardian. After all, you just started college, you didn’t need to be “burdened,” especially by a kid you weren’t even related to.

But there was no way you could leave eleven-year-old Yuuji alone. You grew up changing his diapers, taught him how to ride a bike, cleaned up his boo-boos, and threatened his bullies. 

He was your family.

Prioritizing your baby brother and his future above your own, you decided to bartender at a fancy but sleazy bar. Although the majority of patrons were assholes and the place was too far from your house and the university, the pay was better than most other part-time jobs so you sucked it up.

Between your job, mandatory onsite classes, group assignments with lazy jerks, and taking care of Yuuji and the house, you could never afford to sleep for more than three hours a day. 

But Yuuji was, of course, an angel. 

He didn’t like to show it, but you knew he missed gramps, and you often caught him biting his lip to suppress his whimpers and wiping his eyes with his back turned to you. He did his best to appear strong, but you wished he’d rely on you more. But the little tiger never stopped doing his chores and liked offering to do yours.

“I can’t get a part-time job yet so all I can do is take care of the house and everything else!” When he said that, you swore an arrow pierced your heart and you almost died from fluffiness. 

Seeing Yuji’s bright smile was the only thing that kept you going, especially after a long day at the bar.

That’s where you met Ryomen Sukuna. He was the single most irritating bastard you’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting. It wasn’t like he was a sleazebag per se–he was actually more of a silent, brooding type compared to the handsy, foul-mouthed drunkards you usually dealt with. At least, that was your first expression of him.

It was nine pm and your five minute break was almost over so you sent Yuji a good night text and a reminder to lock the doors and windows. You brushed your hair and went to your post behind the bar. 

This place was in the inner city, far from most schools, so it was rare to find college students here, but it was a Friday and the end of finals week so the place was jam-packed with depressed people. You didn’t mind. Actually, you preferred having a bar full of university kids over a bar full of working adults. You liked college students. They were… nicer, more polite and patient compared to their older counterparts, who were usually middle-aged career men and women whose dreams have been shattered by the real world. Your regulars were broken and pathetic, and they often liked making their problem yours. You’d “listen” to their ramblings, nod and pretend to care, when in reality their words just went in one ear and left straight out the other.

You didn’t like talking or socializing. You left that part up to the waitstaff and prepared the drinks as quietly as possible in order to avoid trouble.  

It was nearing one am, almost time for you to go home. You finished wiping the last piece of glassware when the store bell rang. You didn’t bother to even pretend to be polite this time and continued cleaning up, waiting for one of the waiters to tell the guest that the bar was already closed. But that didn’t happen. 

“The VIP room is a little unclean right now, so if you’re willing to wait–”

“What do you mean unclean? You should always keep it ready,” a cold, androgynous voice reprimanded.

You were annoyed. And a bit confused. You’ve been here for several weeks now and you just found out about this so-called VIP room. And up until now, the personnel here always shooed away all customers during closing. 

“It’s fine, Uraume,” a deep, husky voice interrupted. “I’m fine waiting here. Just get me my drink.”

You raised your eyes and saw a tall man in a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, bringing attention to his… big veiny hands and sinewy arms, lined with black tattoos. 

“O-of course!” Your boss clasped her hands together. “Please excuse me, I’ll get the sake ready in a bit.”

As if sensing your gaze, your tall, red-haired stranger turned his head, revealing a face also full of tattoos. You blushed but composed yourself and bowed in greeting. You refused to make eye contact again though, too embarrassed that you were caught ogling. He was more gorgeous than most idols and sports players that showed up on TV.

“On second thought, I think I’ll sit at the bar.”

Ah, crap. 

“Oh, um…!” Your boss fumbled towards you, putting a hand over your shoulder. “Th-this is Y/N. She’s new. Really new, I don’t think you’ve met yet.” It felt odd watching your usually calm and charming boss act like this. She was the one who dealt with perverts and other difficult clients, all without getting too emotional or stuttering, but she seemed almost afraid of this man. “Y/N, this is Mr. Ryomen Sukuna, he owns this bar.”

That name certainly felt familiar, but you sucked at names, and as for his face… you glanced up at his smirking face. Yeah, there was no way you’d forget a guy like him. Even if you just saw him walking down the street for a split second you would remember him for sure. 

Your boss squeezed you and you quickly bowed your head again. “Um, hello, thank you for the opportunity.”

“You seemed irritated when my companion and I walked in.” 

“No, you must be mistaken.”

“Really? You couldn’t even be bothered to greet us. Bartenders are supposed to be friendly.”

You just tilted your head, contemplating on what to say next when your phone started ringing from the counter. Mr. Sukuna swiped it before you could blink. 

“Hey!” Your sudden burst of energy shocked you and your boss. You slapped a hand over your mouth. “Er. I mean… I apologize.” 

“Shouldn’t phones be on vibrate during work hours?”

“It was on vibrate. We’re supposed to be closed now.” Welp. You were already as good as fired so you didn’t try to cover up your weariness. Yuji sometimes woke up randomly in the middle of the night. He was probably wondering where you were. You held out your hand. “Can I please have it back now? Sir?”

Like you just told the world’s funniest joke, he threw his head back, laughing heartily. 

Despite your boss almost fainting on the spot thanks to your little stunt, you didn’t get fired. Sukuna seemed absolutely smitten with you–that is, as much as an owner can be smitten by a pet hamster. 

It was the beginning of an irritating, one-sided relationship. 

Ever since that day, Sukuna began frequenting the bar more often. Sometimes three times a week, other times almost daily. Rather than stay at the VIP room, he’d hang out by the bar and find many ways to piss you off, like hitting on you, annoying you until you talked about either Yuji or your classes, and asking you to make some complicated cocktail he heard from a business partner, only to then insult it (he’d always finish the thing though). At the very least, he didn’t try touching you inappropriately. And plus, his childish fascination with you meant he demanded you hang out with him immediately after you finished preparing someone else’s drink, so you didn’t have to listen to other people whine about their lives and you didn’t have to make up excuses with the more gropey customers.

To be continued…

#jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna ryoumen #y/n #sukuna ryomen #reader #yakuza #gangster #mafia #yakuza au #cinderella au #minor age gap i guess? #rich guy poor girl/guy #yuji is baby

[gazzistt]

·˚ ༘₊· 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 🧘🏾‍♀️

itadori, sukuna and choso headcannon // here me out…all three of them as siblings. sukuna as the eldest, choso, then itadori.

notes┆︎i usually reference this au when writing my [ itadoriolderbrother! sukuna x reader ], so if you want to know more about that world refer to here :))

⊹˚∘ SUKUNA.

Sukuna grew up spoiled. SPOILED. Being the first and only child of Kaori and Jin at the time, they gave him everything he could ever want.

I like to think that Jin and Kaori were rich as hell. I'm talking about five estates all decked out in multiple traditional-style mansions. They had maids, butlers, attendants—everything!This is where Sukuna spent most of his time and can explain why he acts like he’s better than everyone later in life.

Sukuna was homeschooled for the beginning of his life, never having to mingle with regular people. He learned everything from the comfort of his home, attendants at his beck and call. It was here he learned etiquette, manners and basic liberal skills. Afterward, he was sent to the best schools in the country—his parents only wanting the best for him.

As Sukuna grew older he got a job at his father's company and found out that his parents made him the sole successor to ALL of their assets—only adding to his trust-fund nature.

Sukuna had a very close relationship with his parents, so much so that he was devastated when his mother died shortly after giving birth to Yuji.

This led to his more brutish nature, distancing himself from his father and baby Yuji, going off on a more crude path. He became rouge, got in trouble a lot more, and started fighting. Jin tried his hardest to rectify his behavior, but those attempts didn't seem to work out. So he let him be.

Jin soon found himself growing more weary and left Yuji in the care of his parents, Co-parenting with his father. But, shortly after that, Jin passed away.

Sukuna attended his funeral, and although he wasn't as devastated, it still hit him hard. His grandfather asked Sukuna to visit him and Yuji for some time, seeing as he now had custody over the children as their legal guardian.

However, Sukuna only fulfilled this request during Yuji’s toddler years. After that, Sukuna was as absent as could be. So absent, that Yuji forgot he even had an older brother.

It wasn’t anything personal, but Sukuna was too used to the luxurious lifestyle he grew up with. Their grandfather was a lot more…modest, more simple, more basic. And that was precisely the reason why he stopped showing up.

Sukuna only appeared again when his grandfather died, leaving Yuji without proper care. He decided to take guardianship of the boy and ‘rekindle’ their relationship. Although it was a bit of a daunting task considering he was absent for 16 years of his life. Whoops.

Nevertheless, Yuji eventually came around, the two of them growing close despite their constant bickering and opposing views. Sukuna was family after all.

Sukuna and Itadori lived in a condo in one of the most expensive neighborhoods in the area. Itadori didn’t realize it at the time, but his brother was insanely rich. Sukuna never really talked about it, and Itadori never wanted to hear anything about his parents—which Sukuna thought to be a shame, because he would never have the childhood that he did.

⊹˚∘ ITADORI.

Itadori didn’t know what to do when this random man suddenly claimed to be his brother. I mean, how does one even respond to that?

Eventually, Itadori had no choice to believe him. I mean, Sukuna looked exactly like him! It was almost like they were twins, except he had tattoos covering his face, was much older, and had much less face fat too.

It also helped that Itadori could remember Sukuna—faintly, but just enough to know that he met him a couple times in his life.

When it came to living with Sukuna, there were some…difficulties. I mean, he was arrogant, pretentious, and shameless—all the personality traits that made up the people Yuji hated. But Yuji learned how to tune out Sukuna’s voice, choosing not to let his temperament rub off on him.

For the most part Sukuna left him alone. He did have a job, after all. He would fly out for days at a time, coming back home only to chill in his room, and never coming out until he had someplace to be.

At that point Itadori practically made the home his own, the emptiness and barren design choices soon becoming occupied with color and random objects. Like the sudden appearance of a sleeping bag (?), a PS5, clothes, paintings, wallpaper—by the time Sukuna came back home he couldn't even recognize his own home!

“Hey you brat, what the hell did you do to my house?” Sukuna snarled, his briefcase dropping to the floor in his stupor.

“Oh! I thought you were supposed to come next week—”

“You thought?” Sukuna shakes his head, walking towards his brother who was sprawled out watching a movie on his couch. “What? We're you gonna paint my walls too?”

Needless to say, Yuji found himself sleeping outdoors that night.

Amidst the discourse, Yuji did appreciate the little moments he had with Sukuna. Like when he taught him how to fight!

Apparently, to Sukuna, Yuji had a lot of raw strength in him. Whatever that meant. Yuki couldn’t see it yet, but Sukuna insisted to step in to teach him how to punch.

“Kid, what enemies are you fighting?” Sukuna chuckles, throwing his head back with laughter. He just couldn't believe what he was seeing, his own brother—trying to throw a punch with the most dubious of forms.

“Shut it. I don't want to hear it from you.” Itadori tells him, continuing to shadow box in the middle of the living room. “If you don't have anything good to say, then don't distract me.”

Sukuna scoffs, throwing his hands up in his defense. “Whatever. I just can’t watch my doppelganger throw punk ass punches.”

Sukuna then gets up, stopping Itadori from…whatever he was doing. He stands in front of him and throws a punch, showing Itadori a visual of the perfect form.

“Hey, that looked solid!” Itadori said with newfound enthusiasm, bouncing around the room.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, that looked like it would connect!”

Sukuna simply smirks, shaking his head. Of course it looked like it would connect. He was the best fighter he knew—and there would be no way he’d let his little brother embarrass that title.

But the most weirdest moment that happened to Itadori by far was when he gained yet another brother.

⊹˚∘ CHOSO.

One day Itadori got into a little scuffle with some guys. Nothing too drastic—just a slight little altercation.

But, by the time Itadori came home, he was beaten and bruised—clearing losing the fight.

All Itadori knew was that he got absoulety wiped clean by an emo guy with black hair and dark circles. A bit embarrassing to say the least, but Itadori was so sure that he would never see that guy again.

Until…he did.

“You’re not Yuji.” Choso says flatly, eyebrows lifting in confusion.

“Yeah, I'm not.” Sukuna responds, just as confused. “Who the hell are you?”

Currently, Choso was standing outside the door of Sukuna’s condo—how he got there is unknown. All he knew was that his brother was in there and he had to see him.

“I’m Yuji’s brother.”

Sukuna stared blankly at him, a scoff leaving his lips. “The hell you are, that kid was the last one to pop out of my mom, that's for sure.”

“Oh, so you must be his brother? Well, I guess that makes us siblings as well.”

“Huh?”

Sukuna was thoroughly confused. Who the hell was this random ass kid? And why did he claim to be related?—he must be mental.

Sukuna couldn't deal with this so he called Yuji to clarify. That is when he revealed that this was the chump who beat him up.

Apparently, they beat each other so badly that Choso’s injuries led him to believe that Yuji was his brother.

And he was thoroughly convinced. Equipped with shared memories that only Sukuna and Itadori could have known.

Being a kind soul, Itadori decided that they should allow Choso to stay with them—just until he could regain his memories. Although it seemed unlikely, he believed that there really was a chance Choso could be related to them.

Sukuna, however, wasn't too pleased at this idea, since that merely resulted in another mouth to feed. Nonetheless, Choso began living with the brothers—an arrangement that soon became permanent.

Surprisingly, Choso fit in perfectly. Almost as if Sukuna and Itadori were missing a puzzle piece. He wasn’t loud like Itadori, nor was he pompous like Sukuna. He leaned more toward the reserved side, acting as a medium between the two extremes.

He would sometimes chill around the house, playing board games with Itadori and sometimes Sukuna—if he willed it. But the majority of his time is spent taking walks, reminiscing, and listening to music.

Choso‘s friends are kind of shady to be honest, always getting into altercations and trouble. But whenever Itadori expresses his distaste for one of them, he drops them immediately.

I just think Choso is such a family man, always putting their interests first. He is a firm believer of ‘blood is thicker than water.’ Always ready to protect his brothers of any harm should become them.

Thankfully, it hasn't come to that yet—and he enjoys the new home he found for himself.

a/n: finally finished this 😩😩 i need some water. also i just think choso random appearance to be so fucking funny b/c what do you mean your related to me?

© GAZZISTT

#FIRST FIC #FIRST POST ^3^ #⊹˚∘ #🌷🌱 #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #itadori yuuji #itadori yuji #jjk #jjk headcanons #choso kamo #jjk choso #older brother sukuna #itadori has brothers #jjk au