#(if anything I said in this response could be considered important that is)

[lila-lou]

✨His true fate - Part 29/?✨

Summary: Jensen hasn't been happy for years. But it seems almost impossible for him to escape. After another nasty argument between him and his wife, he decides to visit his ´former´ best friend for his birthday. Back in Austin, an encounter awaits him that will turn his life completely upside down.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Language, age gap

Word Count: 8642

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💙

As the evening settled around you, the soft glow from the bedside lamp cast a warm light over the room. You and Jensen were curled up in bed, his arm wrapped around you as your head rested on his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat was comforting, and for a while, the two of you just lay there in contented silence.

But you could feel a slight tension in the way Jensen held you, as if something was on his mind. After a few minutes, he shifted slightly, and you looked up to meet his eyes. He hesitated for a moment, his gaze soft but thoughtful, before finally speaking.

“I’ve been thinking”, he began, his voice low and careful, as though he wasn’t sure how to bring up what was weighing on him. “About what Jared said earlier… and about the future”.

You didn’t say anything yet, just waited for him to continue, sensing that this was something important.

Jensen exhaled slowly, running a hand through your hair as if gathering the courage to ask what was on his mind. “I know things are complicated right now, and I don’t want to rush anything. But I’ve been thinking… Could you ever imagine… moving in with me? Dealing with the kids? I mean, I know it’s a lot to ask”.

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, you could feel his uncertainty, the way he was carefully treading around the topic. He glanced down at you, searching your eyes for any hint of how you were feeling. “I can imagine it might feel like too much”, he continued, his voice soft. “I mean… you’re still so young, and you have your whole life ahead of you. I just… I don’t want to put any pressure on you. But I have to ask”.

You felt your heart flutter at the vulnerability in his voice, the way he was so careful with his words, not wanting to overwhelm you. You could see the weight of the question in his eyes, the fear that maybe this was too much for you—too complicated.

But you also saw something else. You saw how much Jensen cared, how deeply he was considering what it would mean for the two of you to take this step. And despite the complexities, the uncertainties, you realized something important—you could see yourself doing this. With him.

Jensen shifted again, his hand brushing through your hair, his voice quiet and slightly hesitant as he continued, “I wouldn’t ask this so soon… I know it’s a big thing, and I don’t expect you to just jump into it. It’s nothing I want to do by tomorrow or even next week. It’s just…”.

He trailed off, his brow furrowing as he struggled to find the right words. You stayed silent, giving him the space to work through his thoughts.

“With my kids involved, it’s not just about me”, he finally said, his tone serious. “It’s about them, their lives. I have to think about what’s best for them, and I want things to be stable. As stable as they can be, given my lifestyle”. He paused for a moment, exhaling softly as his hand came to rest gently on your arm. “If… when I introduce you to them, I want it to be because I’m sure. Because it’s going to last”.

His words were filled with such a deep sense of responsibility, and you could see how heavily this weighed on him. The uncertainty he carried wasn’t just about the relationship between the two of you, but about the future he was building for his kids. He wanted them to have stability, security—and that included anyone who came into their lives, including you.

Jensen looked down at you, his eyes searching yours, almost as if he was waiting for you to tell him that it was too much. “I’ve been through enough with the divorce”, he continued, his voice soft but steady. “I don’t want to confuse them, or bring someone into their lives if I’m not completely sure it’s the right thing. I want them to feel safe… to know that if you’re going to be part of their world, it’s because I believe it’s going to work”.

You could feel the weight of what he was saying—how much his kids meant to him, how carefully he was navigating the future for them, and how much this conversation wasn’t just about you and him, but about building something meaningful that could truly last. He wasn’t asking for an answer right away, but it was clear that when he thought of the future, he was imagining you in it.

You bit your lip, your heart pounding as you searched for the right words. The weight of what Jensen had said, the vulnerability in his voice, made the moment feel all the more real. You knew this was a pivotal conversation—not just about logistics or plans, but about where you saw yourself in his life, in the lives of his kids. He was asking for reassurance, but he wasn’t pushing. It was like he was holding his breath, afraid to hope too much.

Finally, you exhaled softly, your voice gentle but steady. "Jensen… I don’t have a problem with your kids. In fact, they’re not just part of your life—they’re part of you. I’ve known that from the beginning. And if they lived with you full-time, or if they were just visiting every other week, it wouldn’t change how I feel about us".

You paused, watching as his eyes searched yours, hanging onto every word. You reached out, brushing your thumb lightly over the back of his hand as you continued, your voice thick with emotion.

"I know it’s complicated… and I’m not saying it’s going to be easy. But I’ve thought about this, Jensen. And I’m not scared of the idea of being part of your life, your whole life, kids and all". You hesitated, biting your lip again before speaking from the deepest part of your heart. "And as for Austin… I mean, I like it, but I don’t need to stay there forever. I’d move for you. If it meant building a life with you, I’d choose that over anything else".

His breath caught, and you could see the emotion building in his eyes. He looked at you like he was trying to absorb your words, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing.

You shifted slightly, sitting up more so you could face him fully. "Jensen, I’m not here just for the easy moments. I’m here because I see a future with you, because I want that future with you. Wherever that takes us, wherever we have to go—whether it’s Austin, or another city, or… making space for your kids. I’m ready for it".

He opened his mouth to speak, but for a moment, nothing came out. He just shook his head slightly, overwhelmed.

"You… you really mean that?", he finally asked, his voice rough with emotion.

You nodded, your voice breaking slightly as you replied, "I do. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it. I love you, Jensen. And I know that loving you means loving the life you’ve built—the good, the complicated, the messy. And I’m ready for all of it".

Jensen let out a breath, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently brushing your skin. He looked at you like you were the most important thing in the world, like you were offering him something he never thought he could have.

"I don’t even know what to say", he whispered. "I’ve been so afraid that this—us—was too much to ask for. That I was asking you to carry too much, to take on my baggage… but hearing you say that…". He trailed off, emotion overwhelming him.

You leaned into his touch, your hand resting over his heart, feeling the steady thrum beneath your palm. "You’re not asking for too much", you whispered back. "We’ll figure it out together. And whatever happens with the kids, wherever we end up—I'm in this with you".

For a moment, there was only the sound of your breathing, the stillness of the room wrapping around the two of you. Then Jensen pulled you closer, his forehead resting against yours. His voice was barely a whisper when he spoke again, full of gratitude and love.

"I love you", he murmured. "More than I can even say".

You smiled softly. "I love you too. And I’m not going anywhere".

A few weeks later, the tension surrounding the divorce still lingered heavily between you and Jensen. Danneel hadn’t signed the papers, and her silence weighed on him, making everything feel uncertain. Jensen had tried to reach out, to discuss a way to move forward for the sake of the kids, but most of his calls and messages went unanswered. It left him in this frustrating limbo, unsure of what the holidays were going to look like.

This morning was no different. As you both stood groggily in the bathroom, brushing your teeth before the day ahead, the exhaustion of everything settled over him. It was early—way too early—but the upcoming convention meant you had to be up, even though neither of you were truly awake.

Jensen leaned on the counter, mumbling around his toothbrush, “I don’t know what to do about the kids”.

His eyes met yours in the mirror, reflecting the weariness and uncertainty that had been eating at him for weeks. You finished brushing your teeth, rinsing your mouth before setting your toothbrush down, trying to give him a moment to process his thoughts. He was torn, you could see it clearly—wanting to spend Christmas with you, but not wanting to lose precious time with his children.

“I want to be with you, I really do”, he said quietly, his voice raw, “but if I spend Christmas with you, I won’t be with the kids. And I can’t… I can’t imagine not seeing them on Christmas”.

You turned to face him, leaning against the counter beside him, feeling the weight of his words settle in. You knew how important this decision was for him.

“I get it, Jensen”, you said softly. “I understand that the kids come first, especially at Christmas. I don’t want you to feel like you have to choose between them and me. I’d never ask that of you”.

He shook his head, his frustration evident. “It’s not just that. It’s… it’s that I feel stuck. I’m trying to be a good dad, but this whole thing with Danneel, the divorce not being finalized—it’s like I’m in this constant limbo. And if I go to spend Christmas with them, it’s just going to be so awkward with her. But if I don’t… I’ll miss them. I hate this”.

He leaned back against the counter, rubbing a hand over his face, clearly overwhelmed. “And then there’s you”, he added, his voice softening. “I want to spend Christmas with you. I don’t want you to feel like you’re not important, because you are. But if I spend Christmas with you, I’d be missing out on time with the kids, and I just… I don’t know how to balance it”.

You moved closer, your hand gently resting against his cheek, your voice gentle. “Jensen, it’s okay. We can celebrate Christmas together whenever. I don’t need it to be on the exact day. Your kids need you, especially right now, and you should be with them. I’ll be okay”.

His eyes met yours, searching for reassurance, and you offered him a soft smile. “We can make our own Christmas, maybe a few days before or after. I’ll be fine, I promise”.

Jensen let out a breath he’d been holding, nodding slowly as if he was finally giving himself permission to feel less guilty. “You’re really okay with that?”, he asked, his voice quieter now, almost vulnerable.

“I am”, you said with certainty. “I don’t want you to miss out on time with them. We’ll have our moment, I’m not worried about that. I want you to be with your kids if that’s what you need”.

Jensen sighed softly, the weight of everything clearly still heavy on his shoulders. After a moment, he shifted slightly, avoiding your eyes for a beat before glancing back at you. “You sure you wanna come today?”, he mumbled, his voice low and hesitant.

You knew what he was referring to—the convention. Danneel was going to be there too, and the tension of it all had been hanging in the air for days.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I want to be there for you”, you said softly, meeting his gaze. “I know it’s not going to be easy, but I’ll be okay”.

Jensen’s eyes flickered with uncertainty. He wanted you there—he always did—but the thought of having to navigate the awkwardness of Danneel’s presence weighed on him. He ran a hand through his hair, his brows furrowed. “I just don’t want things to be uncomfortable for you”, he admitted, his voice almost apologetic. “With Danneel there… it might get messy. I don’t know what to expect from her”.

You shrugged casually, a playful glint in your eyes as you reached up and gently pulled him down by the neck, bringing his face close to yours. "As long as you come home with me afterward and not her", you mumbled, your lips brushing against his, the teasing smile evident in your voice. Before he could respond, you kissed him softly, letting your touch melt some of the tension from the moment.

Jensen hesitated for a second, still weighed down by his thoughts, but the warmth of your kiss broke through. With a low sigh of relief, he placed his hands on your hips, his grip firm yet gentle, as if grounding himself in the moment with you. He deepened the kiss briefly before pulling away just enough to look into your eyes. Without a word, his hands slid under your thighs, and with a smooth motion, he lifted you effortlessly, placing you on the counter beside the sink.

You laughed softly, the sudden shift catching you off guard, but you couldn’t help but lean into him more. His eyes softened as he stood between your legs, his hands resting on your waist, thumbs brushing your sides in a way that was both comforting and intimate.

"Why do you always know exactly what to say to make everything feel a little easier?", he murmured, resting his forehead against yours, his voice quiet and filled with gratitude.

You smiled, your hands finding their way to the back of his neck again, fingers lightly playing with the short strands of his hair. "Because I know you", you whispered. "And I know no matter how complicated things get, you always come back to me. That’s what matters".

Jensen closed his eyes briefly, his brow furrowing slightly as if letting go of some of the stress he'd been holding onto. "You make it sound so simple", he whispered.

"It can be simple", you replied, your voice gentle but firm. "It’s just you and me, figuring things out. One step at a time. The rest… we’ll deal with when it comes".

He smiled at that, the tension around his eyes finally easing. "I don’t deserve you, you know that?".

You leaned forward, brushing your lips lightly against his again. "You keep saying that", you whispered against his mouth, "but I’m here, aren’t I?".

Jensen kissed you softly, his hands tightening on your waist as if he needed the closeness, needed the reminder that despite all the uncertainty with Danneel and the kids, this—the two of you—was solid. After a moment, he pulled back just slightly, his lips still hovering near yours as he murmured, "I don’t know what I’d do without you".

"You’ll never have to find out", you replied quietly, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw as you looked into his eyes.

For a few moments, you both stayed there, wrapped up in the warmth and intimacy of the moment, all thoughts of the convention and the complications with Danneel fading into the background. Jensen’s hands rested on your thighs now, his touch gentle but reassuring, and for the first time that morning, you saw the tension in his body fully release.

"We’ll get through today", you whispered, leaning your forehead against his. "No matter what happens, you’ll come home to me, and that’s what matters".

Jensen smiled, a real, genuine smile, and pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before stepping back slightly. "Yeah", he said, his voice steadier now. "You’re right".

As you slid off the counter, back onto your feet, he kept his hands on your waist for a moment longer, grounding himself in your presence. "Let’s get through this day together", he said softly. "Then we’ll figure out everything else".

As you both got ready for the last convention of the year, Jensen’s mind was running in a thousand different directions. It should’ve felt like a relief—knowing that after today, he’d have a break until New Year’s Eve, no filming, no appearances, just time to be with you—but instead, his thoughts were consumed with everything that still felt unresolved.

He kept glancing at you as you moved around the hotel room, getting ready with a quiet focus. He hadn’t told you about the houses yet—the one in Connecticut, which he loathed, and more importantly… the one near the river in Austin, which felt like a way better fit. It wasn’t just about finding a place for him and the kids; it was about building something that could include you, too. The idea of you sharing a home with him was something he hadn’t stopped thinking about. But he wasn’t ready to tell you, not until he had a clearer picture of what the future would look like. Not until the divorce was final.

Jensen hated Connecticut. The cold, the distance, the feeling of being disconnected from everything he loved—it wasn’t the life he wanted, but it was where his kids were. And he couldn’t imagine them constantly flying to see him, or him flying to them, especially with the unpredictable chaos that came with being a parent. But the thought of being stuck there, away from you, made his stomach turn. That’s why the idea of Austin, of a home closer to what felt like home, had been so appealing.

He rubbed his hands over his face, trying to shake the thoughts from his mind. He had to focus on today. Get through the convention first, and then maybe—maybe—he could finally sit down and figure out the next steps.

You turned to him, catching the distracted look on his face, and raised an eyebrow. “You good?”, you asked, walking over to where he stood by the window.

Jensen blinked and nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, just thinking about how great it’ll be to have some time off after this. No conventions, no filming, just us”.

You smiled softly at that, clearly looking forward to it too. “Yeah, Austin’s going to be nice. And hey, we’ll have time to just relax. No rushing from one thing to another”.

“Exactly”, Jensen said, pulling you into his arms. He held you close, resting his chin on top of your head for a moment. “I can’t wait to get back to Austin with you”.

Little did you know, he wasn’t just thinking about your apartment. He’d been quietly looking for a place that could be a home for both of you, something more permanent than hotel rooms and quick getaways. He’d got an eye on a house near the river in Austin, one that felt like it could be the place. It was perfect—not just for him and the kids, but for you too, if you wanted to be part of that world with him.

But he couldn’t buy anything yet, not with the divorce still hanging over his. Danneel hadn’t signed the papers, and until she did, everything felt like it was in limbo. Still, the thought of starting fresh with you was what kept him going. He just hoped, when the time was right, that you’d want to be part of that picture.

You looked up at him, resting your hands on his chest. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”.

Jensen smiled down at you, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Just thinking about how lucky I am”.

You narrowed your eyes playfully. “You keep saying that. Should I be worried?”.

“No”, he chuckled, shaking his head. “Just… grateful. For you, for us”.

You softened at his words, leaning into him. “Well, I’m pretty lucky too”.

Jensen kissed the top of your head, letting himself relax in the moment. Today, he just needed to get through this last convention, and then, he’d be heading back to Austin with you. Once the holidays were over, and once things with Danneel were settled, maybe he could finally tell you about the house, and what he hoped the future might look like.

The convention had the same motions as always—fans buzzing with excitement, the energy of the crowd palpable. You’d become familiar with the routine by now. You’d sit among the other fans, blending in, acting as though you were just another face in the crowd, while Jensen did his best to keep things professional, never letting on that you were anything more than a fan. It was easier that way, especially with Danneel in the picture, who still had no idea who you were or what you meant to Jensen.

You sat in the front row, your hands clasped tightly in your lap as you watched him from across the room. Jensen entered with Danneel by his side, their presence on stage together sending a ripple of excitement through the audience. You bit your lip, trying to focus on Jensen, to remind yourself that this was just another day, just another convention. But with Christmas only weeks away and the divorce still looming, everything felt heavier than usual.

Jensen looked calm, as he always did in front of the fans, his smile wide and charming, but you could tell by the way his eyes flickered toward you now and then that he was distracted. He was doing his best to keep the focus on the crowd, on the fans who had come to see him and Danneel, but his gaze kept drifting back to you, even if only for a second.

It was subtle—no one else would have noticed—but you saw it. The way his smile faltered ever so slightly when he caught your eye, the way his posture tensed for just a brief moment before he forced himself to relax. He was trying not to let it show, but you could see the internal struggle playing out on his face.

Meanwhile, Danneel remained unaware, smiling and engaging with the fans as she always did, unaware of the silent tension building between you and Jensen. She didn’t know what was going on behind the scenes, didn’t know who you were, and for now, you wanted to keep it that way.

You shifted in your seat, biting the inside of your cheek as you tried to keep your attention on the panel. It was harder than usual, knowing that Danneel’s presence was still such a significant part of Jensen’s life, even though they were in the process of untangling it. The fact that she hadn’t signed the papers yet made everything feel even more unresolved.

It wasn’t until a fan asked the question that the atmosphere shifted, the playful energy in the room becoming something a little more tense.

“Are you and Danneel planning on having another baby?”, the fan asked, their voice bright and casual. “Or are the plans for babies finally done?”.

Your heart skipped a beat. The innocent question hit you harder than you expected, but you did your best to keep your expression neutral. You’d learned to navigate these situations, to let them roll off your back, but this one felt like a punch. Especially when Danneel, always quick with a response, smiled coyly and teased, “Who knows? Maybe another little Jensen could be in the future”.

The audience laughed lightly, clearly enjoying the playful banter, but you felt a tight knot form in your chest. It wasn’t jealousy—at least, not exactly. It was the unresolved tension of everything hanging in the air. Jensen’s divorce wasn’t final, Danneel still hadn’t signed the papers, and here they were, on stage, joking about babies as if the reality of their situation was still the same as it had been years ago.

Your eyes darted toward Jensen, and you weren’t surprised to find that his gaze had immediately shot toward you, his expression tight and slightly strained. He was looking for reassurance, for any sign that you were okay, but you knew you couldn’t give him that in this moment. Not with everyone watching. So instead, you raised an eyebrow, keeping your expression as neutral as possible, silently signaling to him that you were fine. Even though you weren’t.

Jensen quickly turned back to the crowd, a slight chuckle escaping his lips as he tried to deflect the awkwardness of the situation. “No more babies for me”, he said, his tone light and teasing. “I think we’ve done enough damage already”. The crowd laughed, the tension in the room dissipating slightly as Jensen continued, “Parenthood’s a lot of work, you know? It’s like trying to wrestle a tornado while also keeping it alive”.

The audience erupted into more laughter, and Jensen seemed to relax, using humor as his shield. “I love my kids, but three’s a good number. Any more and I’d probably lose my mind”, he added, grinning at the fans.

For a split second, Jensen’s eyes flickered toward you again, a brief, almost imperceptible glance, but enough for Danneel to notice. Her smile faltered for just a moment as her eyes followed his line of sight, landing directly on you. You could feel the weight of her gaze as it lingered for a beat longer than necessary, she was connecting something, sensing a shift in Jensen’s focus.

Your heart raced, but you did your best to stay composed, keeping your face neutral as if you were just another fan in the crowd. You weren’t sure if Danneel had realized who you were or if she simply noticed Jensen’s attention drifting elsewhere, but either way, the shift was palpable.

Danneel’s smile returned, but it wasn’t quite as bright as before. She glanced back at Jensen, her expression still playful for the crowd but with a hint of something more.

Jensen, to his credit, recovered quickly, slipping back into his charming persona as he engaged with another fan’s question. His eyes didn’t wander toward you again, but you could feel the strain beneath the surface, the unspoken conversation that would undoubtedly happen once the panel was over.

The rest of the panel carried on, but the atmosphere felt different. Every interaction, every joke felt more careful, more measured. You kept your focus on Jensen, but your mind was racing. You could feel Danneel’s presence like a shadow in the room, her curiosity likely piqued by the way Jensen had looked at you.

As the panel finally came to an end, the tension still hung in the air like a thick fog. The fans were starting to disperse, and Jensen, despite his usual charm and professionalism, seemed distracted. Danneel, however, didn’t let up, her curiosity piqued by the subtle interactions she had noticed during the panel.

As they made their way toward the green room, Danneel’s teasing began, her voice light but laced with an undertone of something more. “So, who was that girl you kept looking at in the front row?”, she asked, her tone playful but sharp. “Your new girlfriend won’t appreciate you shopping for a new plaything among your little fan girls, Jensen”.

Jensen nearly stopped in his tracks, biting back a grin as he realized what Danneel had assumed. She thought you were just some random girl, someone who had caught his eye like an easy distraction, not realizing that you were, in fact, the very girlfriend she was referring to. The absurdity of the situation almost made him laugh, but he quickly schooled his expression, not wanting to give anything away too soon.

He glanced over at Danneel, raising an eyebrow. “A fan girl?”, he repeated, his tone casual as he slipped his hands into his pockets, trying to act as though the conversation wasn’t affecting him.

Danneel smirked, crossing her arms as they walked. “Don’t play coy with me, Jensen. I know you. The way you kept sneaking glances her way… I saw it. And, well”, she chuckled, “she’s easy on the eyes. But you should be careful. You wouldn’t want to complicate things, right?”.

Jensen fought the urge to roll his eyes, instead shaking his head slightly. “I’m not looking for a ‘plaything,’ Danneel”, he said, keeping his voice measured. “And trust me, things are already complicated enough thanks to you".

As they stepped into the green room, Danneel was about to continue her teasing, clearly enjoying the moment a little too much. But before she could get another word out, Jensen laid a firm arm around her shoulder, pulling her in close for a second, his grip tighter than usual. The shift in his demeanor was subtle but unmistakable. He wasn’t playing anymore.

“Speaking of fucking complicated”, he said, his voice dropping low enough that only she could hear, though there was an unmistakable edge to it. He squeezed her shoulder just enough to make his point, his eyes locked on hers. “How are those divorce papers doing?”.

Danneel’s teasing smile faltered as the seriousness of his tone sank in. She shifted uncomfortably under his grip, her bravado slipping as she met his gaze. “Jensen…”.

“I’m not joking, Danneel”, Jensen continued, his voice steady but with a quiet intensity. “Not anymore. I want them signed. This back-and-forth, this limbo we’re stuck in—it’s got to end now".

Danneel blinked, clearly caught off guard by the sudden shift in the conversation. Her usual playful retorts were nowhere to be found as she stood there, staring at Jensen. It was as though she hadn’t expected him to confront her so directly, especially not in the middle of a convention.

“I’ve been patient”, Jensen added, his arm falling away from her shoulder as he stepped back slightly, giving her space but making it clear he wasn’t backing down. “But I’m done waiting. I want the papers signed, Danneel".

Danneel bit her lip and shifted slightly uncomfortably, glancing away before finally speaking, her voice quieter than before. “I’m ready to sign them, Jensen”, she mumbled, a trace of hesitation lingering. “But… I wanted to talk about the details. You know, like the properties and custody arrangements for the kids. I thought maybe we could discuss it tonight—over dinner”.

Jensen’s eyes immediately rolled at the suggestion. Of course, she’d want to drag this out further, under the guise of hashing out details. Dinner sounded less like a business conversation and more like another attempt to stall the inevitable. The tension between them hung heavy in the air, and he knew Danneel was trying to exert some level of control over the situation, even if just for one last time.

“Dinner?”, he repeated, incredulity lacing his voice as he ran a hand through his hair. “Danneel, we don’t need to sit over a fancy meal and pretend this is something we can smooth over like old times. The details are already outlined. You’ve had the papers for weeks. You’ve seen the custody arrangements. You’ve seen the damn property split”.

Danneel shifted, crossing her arms, but she didn’t look him in the eyes. “Yeah, well… it’s not that simple, Jensen. There are still things I want to discuss—things we need to clarify for the kids’ sake”.

Jensen clenched his jaw, trying to keep his frustration at bay. “Danneel, I’ve been more than patient. We don’t need to hash this out over dinner. You’ve had plenty of time to ask questions or make changes to the papers. What’s stopping you now?”.

Danneel took a deep breath, her face hardening as her gaze finally locked with Jensen’s. She straightened her shoulders, raising her chin with a defiant glint in her eyes.

"One last dinner, or I won’t sign shit", she hissed, her voice sharp enough to cut through the tension in the room. Her words were laced with a challenge, pushing the boundaries once again. Jensen’s jaw clenched, frustration bubbling beneath the surface as he stared at her.

She wasn’t done. “Besides”, she continued, her voice dripping with bitterness, “the kids are waiting for you at the hotel. JJ’s been missing you, Jensen. They flew all the way here just to get a glimpse of their dad. So, how about you go to dinner with me? Head to my hotel afterward and spend some time with your damn kids, like a fucking dad should”.

Jensen’s fists tightened at his sides, his breath hitching as he tried to rein in his emotions. He hated how she twisted everything, using the kids as leverage, as if the only way to be a good father was to play along with her games. His relationship with his children had never been in question—he knew how much they loved him, how much he loved them—but the guilt she piled on, as though he wasn’t already stretched to his limits, weighed heavily.

His eyes narrowed slightly, his voice low but steady. “Don’t bring the kids into this, Danneel. You know damn well I want to see them. But I won’t play these games with you. This isn’t about dinner. It’s not about us. It’s about doing what’s right for them, and this stalling—it’s hurting them more than you realize”.

Danneel rolled her eyes, her arms still crossed as she leaned back slightly, as if daring him to push back. “I’m not stalling”, she snapped. “I’m making sure we get this right. Maybe you’ve moved on, but this is still my life too. One dinner, Jensen, that’s all I’m asking. And then maybe I’ll sign those papers”.

The room felt smaller now, the air thick with unresolved tension. Jensen could feel the anger bubbling beneath his skin, but he couldn’t let it take control. He needed to stay focused—for the kids, for his sanity, for the life he was trying to build with you.

He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair again, trying to find the right words. “Fine”, he finally said, the word clipped as it left his mouth. “Dinner. But this is it, Danneel. After tonight, I want those papers signed, and I want this over”.

Danneel’s smirk returned, but it was small, more of a flicker of triumph in her eyes than anything else. She nodded, satisfied for now. “Good”, she said, her voice softening just slightly. “Pick me up at 7. And after dinner, you can spend time with the kids. They’ve been waiting for you”.

Jensen stared at her for a long moment before nodding stiffly. “I’ll be there”. His tone was cold, distant, and it made Danneel pause for a second, as if realizing how far things had spiraled between them.

Without another word, she turned and left the green room, leaving Jensen standing alone, the weight of the conversation still heavy in the air. He let out a long, frustrated breath, his hands resting on his hips as he tried to clear his head.

He thought about you—about how he couldn’t wait to get out of this mess and just be with you, where things made sense. But for now, he had to get through tonight. One last dinner, one last play at control from Danneel. And then, maybe, the papers would finally be signed, and this chapter of his life could close for good.

Jensen stood there for a moment, feeling the weight of the conversation settle over him. He didn’t want to make the same mistake as last time—keeping you in the dark and leaving you wondering where he was or why things had changed at the last minute. He’d promised to be better, more open with you, and right now, that meant being honest about the change in plans.

Without hesitation, he pulled out his phone and started typing a message to you:

Jensen: Hey, something came up with Danneel. She’s pushing for one last dinner to talk about the divorce details and the kids. I agreed because I need to get her to sign those papers. I’m sorry. I wanted us to have tonight together, but I’ll have to meet her for dinner first.

He paused, staring at the screen. He hated this. Hated that he was constantly having to juggle things between his past and his future with you. But he knew it was necessary for now. His fingers hovered over the keyboard before he added:

Jensen: I don’t want you to spend the night alone though. I´ll ask Jared and Misha to grab dinner with you instead. At least that way you won’t be stuck waiting around for me. I’ll join you after, I promise.

He hit send and ran a hand through his hair, exhaling as he stared at the message. It wasn’t what he wanted, but it was the best he could do given the circumstances.

The buzz of his phone broke his thoughts. It was you.

You: Thanks for letting me know. It’s okay. I get it. Do what you need to do with Danneel and the kids. I’ll have dinner with Jared and Misha—should be fun. You: Just… don’t let her push you around too much, okay?

Jensen smiled at the text, feeling the warmth of your words even though this situation was far from ideal. You always knew what to say to keep him grounded.

Jensen: I won’t. It’s just for the kids. After tonight, it’ll be done. Jensen: I’ll see you later, okay?

Another buzz.

You: Okay. Good luck. I’ll be here when you’re done.

Jensen let out a breath of relief, slipping his phone back into his pocket. You were so understanding, even when things like this kept coming up.

Dinner with Danneel was exactly what Jensen expected—tense, uncomfortable, and full of sharp remarks wrapped in forced smiles. They had settled into a quiet corner of the restaurant, away from prying eyes, but the air between them was far from private. It was a battlefield of past emotions and unresolved issues, most of which Danneel wasn’t willing to let go of just yet.

Between serious conversations about custody arrangements and splitting their assets, Danneel kept slipping in barbed comments, as if testing him, pushing his patience.

“You’re really going through with selling the house in Fairfield, then?”, she asked, taking a sip of her wine, her eyes scanning his face. “I thought maybe you’d want to keep it for the kids”.

Jensen sighed, trying to keep his frustration in check. “We’ve been over this, Danneel. It’s too big. The kids don’t need all that space… especially when they’re splitting time between us. Selling it is the right move”.

Danneel shrugged, leaning back in her chair, her tone laced with bitterness. “So, where are you planning on moving, then? You always hated the idea of going back to LA, so what’s the plan now that we’re done? Going to shack up with your new girlfriend somewhere quiet and cozy?”.

Her words were sharp, but Jensen didn’t take the bait. He simply placed his fork down and met her gaze with a steady look. “I’m not discussing my personal life with you, Danneel. That’s not what tonight is about. We’re here to talk about the kids and the logistics of moving forward”.

She let out a short, mocking laugh, shaking her head. “Right, because you’ve always been so great at separating business from personal”.

Jensen clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay calm. He didn’t want to argue with her, not tonight, not when they were so close to finalizing everything. But her constant jabs were getting harder to ignore.

“I haven’t decided where I’ll move yet”, Jensen said, his voice level, “but wherever it is, it’ll be somewhere the kids can feel at home. That’s my priority”.

Danneel rolled her eyes, clearly unsatisfied with his answer. “Just make sure it’s close enough so they don’t feel like they’re being shuffled back and forth between two completely different worlds, Jensen. They’re already going through enough as it is”.

Jensen took a deep breath, leaning forward slightly as he spoke. “I know that, Danneel. I’m not going to make it harder on them. I want them to feel settled, wherever they are”.

She studied him for a moment, her expression softening just a bit. “So, where is it? Where are you thinking of going?”.

Jensen hesitated, not wanting to reveal too much, especially about his plans to possibly settle back in Austin. He didn’t owe her that information, not anymore. “I’m looking into a few options. What matters is that the kids are comfortable and have a stable home life”.

Danneel leaned back again, swirling her wine in the glass as she stared at him. “You used to talk about wanting something simple, somewhere quiet. You never liked all the glitz and chaos of LA”.

Jensen sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair as he considered the complicated mess of his future plans. LA would have been a smart choice—his new show was filming there, and it would make things easier in terms of work. But his heart wasn’t in it, and the thought of being so far from the kids gnawed at him. He couldn’t picture himself raising them in the middle of LA’s chaos. Austin, on the other hand, had always felt more like home. It was where he’d love to go back to, but again, the kids came first.

He glanced at Danneel across the table, her expression still guarded as she waited for his answer. “It depends on where you’re planning to move too”, he mumbled, his voice low but firm. “I want the kids to be close".

Danneel snorted, swirling her wine glass before taking a sip. “Well, I’m definitely getting away from Fairfield”, she muttered, her voice dripping with disdain. “The housewives there are unbearable. They never liked me, always giving me dirty looks at the school drop-offs or in town. Bunch of stuck-up, judgmental whores”.

Jensen raised an eyebrow at that, biting back a comment. He could easily imagine why the women in Fairfield might not have taken to Danneel—she had a habit of acting superior, especially around women she viewed as competition. It wasn’t lost on him that Danneel had always felt threatened by other women, particularly anyone she thought was prettier or had more attention.

“Can’t imagine why they didn’t like you”, Jensen said dryly, his tone edged with sarcasm. “Maybe it’s the way you always acted like you were better than everyone else”.

Danneel’s eyes flashed with irritation, her jaw tightening as she met his gaze. “I didn’t act like I was better than them”, she snapped defensively. “They just couldn’t handle someone who wasn’t part of their little Stepford wives club. I didn’t fit in, and they hated it”.

Jensen shook his head slightly, trying to keep the conversation from spiraling into another argument. He didn’t want to waste energy on old grudges or her insecurities about other women. “Whatever”, he said.

Danneel rolled her eyes, clearly not interested in letting go of her complaints about Fairfield, but she didn’t push the issue further.

Just then, Danneel smirked over the rim of her wine glass, her eyes glinting with mischief as she leaned back in her chair. “You know”, she started, her voice taking on that teasing lilt that always set Jensen on edge, “maybe I’ll consider Austin again. I kind of miss Steve”.

The name alone made Jensen’s jaw clench, but he forced himself to keep his expression neutral, taking a slow breath to stop himself from saying something he’d regret. The time when he felt anything toward her other than frustration and disgust was long gone. Any remnants of warmth or affection had been eroded away by years of deception, most of all when it came to Steve.

He stared at her, his eyes narrowing slightly as he fought to keep his tone steady. “Is that supposed to bother me, Danneel?”, he asked, his voice cool but laced with exhaustion. “Because if you’re trying to get a rise out of me by bringing him up, it’s not going to work”.

Danneel chuckled, shaking her head. “Oh, come on, Jensen. Don’t pretend you’re above it. I know it bothers you”. She tilted her head, her smirk widening. “It always did”.

It used to, Jensen admitted to himself. Back when he’d discovered the truth about her on-again, off-again thing with Steve, back when they’d still been trying to hold on to the crumbling remnants of their marriage, it had gutted him. Knowing she’d been with someone he once called a friend, while still sharing a life with him, had nearly destroyed him. But now? Now, it didn’t hurt. It just added to the bitterness of everything they’d built falling apart.

He pushed his plate aside, looking her square in the eyes. “The only thing that bothers me, Danneel, is how much you think you can still manipulate people to get under their skin”. His voice was low, controlled, but there was an undeniable edge of steel beneath his words. “But Steve? He doesn’t matter to me. Not anymore. You don’t get to hold that over my head. Not anymore”.

Her smirk faltered for just a second, a flicker of something—surprise, maybe—that crossed her face before she quickly masked it with her usual bravado. “Whatever you say, Jensen”, she muttered, waving her hand dismissively, but the bite in her tone had softened.

Jensen leaned back in his chair, adopting a nonchalant expression as he considered Danneel's suggestion about Austin. On the surface, he played it cool, but deep down, the idea of her moving back to Texas stirred something inside him. If they were both in Austin, it would simplify things, especially when it came to co-parenting and staying close to the kids. But he couldn’t show that. The last thing he wanted was to give Danneel the sense that she held any more kind of power over him. If she knew how much this could work in his favor, she’d play him, twist it to her advantage.

“I mean, Austin could work for me too”, he said casually, shrugging as if it wasn’t a big deal. His voice remained steady, deliberately unbothered.

Danneel’s eyes flickered with interest as she studied him. Jensen could practically see the gears turning in her head, but he kept his expression neutral, not giving her an inch more than necessary. He could already tell she was weighing her options, figuring out how best to position herself. If she thought for even a second that moving back to Austin was something he really wanted, she’d find a way to turn it into something that benefited her more than the kids.

“Yeah, Austin has its perks”, Danneel said, swirling her wine with a little smirk. “But I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about Dallas too. Bigger city, more opportunities”.

Jensen suppressed an eye roll. Dallas would be fine too—at least it was close.

“I’m sure Dallas has plenty of good options for you”, Jensen replied smoothly, his tone indifferent. “As long as it’s not on the other side of the country, it works. The important thing is that the kids feel settled and have both of us close by”.

Danneel took another sip of her wine, narrowing her eyes slightly, as if trying to figure out where Jensen really stood on the matter. She could sense that he was playing it cool, but she couldn’t quite pin him down, and that was exactly what Jensen wanted.

“So, you wouldn’t mind us both being back in Austin?”, Danneel asked, her tone laced with curiosity, perhaps even skepticism.

Jensen shrugged again, taking a sip of his water before answering. “Austin’s big enough for both of us, Danneel. It’s not like we’ll be running into each other every day. And like I said, it’s about the kids. It’s the most practical option”.

“Well, we’ll see”, Danneel said, her voice softening a little as she finally let go of her playful teasing. “Wherever I end up, I’ll make sure it works for the kids. I want them to feel settled too”.

Jensen nodded, relieved that, for once, they seemed to be on the same page about something. “Good. That’s all I’m asking for”.

They sat in silence for a moment, the tension between them easing slightly as they both seemed to accept the reality of the situation. The bickering, the games—it all needed to end. For the kids. For themselves. The sooner the papers were signed and these decisions were made, the sooner they could both move on.

But as the dinner wound down and they both prepared to leave, Jensen couldn’t shake the lingering thought that Danneel wasn’t done with her power plays just yet. He knew her too well. She’d find another way to push his buttons before all was said and done.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

Taglist: @cheynovak @chriszgirl92 @jenniferr0323 @angelbabyyy99 @cevansbaby-dove @muhahaha303 @jackles010378 @suckitands33 @n-o-p-e-never @mayafatimakhan @ladysparkles78 @viviandarkbloom06 @jassackles @evasmlp @acklesaddict67 @mostlymarvelgirl @emma1998sblog @mishaesque @headinthemoon87 @hobby27 @winchesterwild78 @impala67rollingthroughtown @manicjk @kr804573 @zaratahir @djs8891 @winchesterwild78 @jamerlynn @whimsyfinny @libby99hb @deansimpalababy @deans-queen @kawaii-arfid-memes @faephoria @stoneyggirl2 @fitxgrld @luvr4miya @yikeschoices @lyssalvus @soab1967 @luvr4miya @didi0666 @impala67rollingthroughtown @cheekygirl2309 @kamisobsessed

[rekino2114]

How would the ddlc ladies react to their partner telling motioning them over, only to be kissed on the forehead and called a good girl?

The ddlc girls' reaction to being kissed and praised

M/n:thanks for requesting someth-

A/n:Monika....what are you doing in my author's note?

M/n:it's been ages since you wrote something about me, I just wanted to thank the anon for requesting

A/n:they didn't request you specifically you know?

M/n:I'm sure they did that to not make the other girls feel bad, I'm definitely their favorite

A/n:just get out this is already too long

M/n:No way, not only do you not write anything about me for so long, but you also forbid me from breaking the fourth wall? That's literally my thing

A/n:Fine, I guess you can stay here when I write ddlc stuff if the readers are fine with it

M/n:hehe, good boy

A/n:...........

M/n:what? It fit with the post

Monika

It's me ˆᵕˆ

What did I tell you?

Is confused at first but just giggles and accepts it

She quickly kisses you back, on the lips this time, and you just start making out passionately

She also praises you back for how well you kissed her

"Hm? What is it darling?"

Before Monika could say anything else, you kiss her on the forehead

"Good girl"

She stands there for a second before a teasing smile appears on her face, and she giggles

"Oh, I see. Well, since I'm such a good girl"

She hugs you closer to her and whispers in your ear seductively

"Then you be good too and give me a real kiss"

She kisses you passionately as you two fall on the bed and wrap your arms around each other while making out

Yuri

Yuri.exe stopped working.......genuinely you might have broken her

She was already blushing when you kissed her, and she went the reddest you had ever seen her when you praised her

When her brain fully processed what you just said and did, she just fainted from emotion

"Is something wrong y/n?"

Yuri blushed as you got close, and her cheeks got even hotter when she felt your lips on her forehead

"Good girl"

Her brain short circuited when she heard you say that, she mumbled an incoherent string of words struggling to come up with a response

"E-eh....w-ha d-did you- just......w-what w-why-"

When she finished, she fell on the bed with an even redder face

"A-are you ok yuri?"

Sayori

She blushes for a bit before thanking you and kissing you on the cheek as thanks

Meanwhile, in her mind, she's processing all that:it actually felt really good when you called her good girl, you helped her discover she might have a thing for being praised

After this, she'll try to do more stuff for you in hopes that she'll get praised for it. It's really adorable

"What's up babe?"

"Oh, nothing, just wanted to do this"

You kissed sayori's forehead and she blushed but still kept her beaming smile

"Good girl"

"E-eh?"

"Oh, sorry do you not like that?"

"N-no......actually I kinda liked it.....a lot"

Sayori started playing with her fingers and blushing more, you giggled and pat her head

"You're such a good girl, you know that?"

"T-thanks"

Natsuki

She kinda ignored you when you first motioned her over, but eventually went where you were

She blushed so much when you kissed her, and when you praised her, she might have considered slapping you

She'll try to act mad at you for giving her unprompted affection, but she easily caved when you hugged her and started to cuddle (she's just a grumpy cat fr)

"*sighs* what is it?"

"Finally!"

"If it was something important, you could have used your words"

"Well, you still came so"

You pressed your lips on her forehead and watched as her face became as pink as her hair

"I guess you're still a good girl"

"W-what did you just call me you idiot?"

"Good girl, is there a problem with that?"

"Y-yeah there is, don't call me like that again dummy"

"I dunno, I think you liked it~"

"S-SHUT UP!"

[peppymintdreams]

I gotchu girlie

Soft interruptions

Isaac Rhoades x Pickle

Isaac is absorbed in his work until Pickle, concerned for his well-being, persuades him to take a break by sitting in his lap, softening his usual stoic demeanor

Isaac’s office was cloaked in quiet, the kind of silence that only settled late into the evening when the city had wound down. His desk was a controlled chaos—papers neatly stacked but seemingly endless. He hunched over, scanning reports with a furrowed brow and the occasional jot of his pen. The dim light of the desk lamp illuminated his sharp features, casting shadows that accentuated the serious set of his mouth.

It had been hours since he started working on this case, a tangled web of missing persons and back-alley deals. His focus was unrelenting, eyes trained on every detail, his mind circling the case like a predator closing in on prey.

The soft sound of footsteps approaching didn’t pull him from his work at first. It wasn’t until the door to his office cracked open that Isaac allowed his eyes to shift from the pages in front of him.

Pickle stepped in, holding a tray. The faint smell of gyoza and tamagoyaki drifted through the room, cutting through the sterile scent of paperwork and ink. “I made dinner,” they said softly, their tone warm but careful, like they were testing the waters of his mood.

Isaac’s eyes flicked back to the report in his hand, his posture rigid. “Thank you,” he murmured, voice low and composed, though his eyes remained on the documents. “I’ll have some later.”

Pickle walked closer, placing the tray on a small side table near him, the smell of freshly made food now undeniable. “You said that last time, and you haven’t moved from this spot in hours.”

Isaac’s brow furrowed slightly at that, the only outward sign of his inner struggle to keep working. He paused, fingers brushing lightly over the edge of the paper, but his focus was still split.

Pickle stepped closer, concern softening their voice. “Isaac, you need to eat. Just a few minutes. Then you can come back to your case.”

Isaac sighed quietly, the sound almost inaudible, but he didn’t look up. “This case won’t solve itself,” he replied, his tone cool, though not unkind. “There’s too much at stake for me to—”

He didn’t get to finish the thought before Pickle gently settled into his lap, making themselves comfortable against him without a word. Isaac tensed for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly in confusion as he instinctively leaned back in his chair to accommodate them. It was a rare moment of contact, and despite his initial surprise, he allowed it.

“Pickle…” Isaac’s voice was calm but carried a quiet reprimand, though not as firm as it could have been. His hands remained by his sides, unsure of where to place them.

Pickle didn’t say anything for a few seconds, simply resting against his chest, their presence a grounding force against the intensity of his work. Eventually, they spoke, their voice gentle. “You’re no good to anyone if you burn yourself out.”

Isaac’s eyes finally left the papers, a subtle, almost imperceptible shift in his expression as he gazed down at them. His stoicism remained, but there was a flicker of softness in his gaze, something unspoken that only Pickle seemed to draw out of him.

“I know the case is important,” they continued, looking up at him. “But so is taking care of yourself. You can’t keep pushing yourself like this.”

Isaac’s jaw tightened slightly, the weight of responsibility still pressing heavily on him. He let out a slow breath, his gaze lowering to the papers once more as if considering his next move. For a moment, it seemed like he might brush off their words, push them away with that same distant logic he used to navigate the chaos of his cases.

But instead, after a long silence, he slowly raised one hand, resting it gently on their back. The gesture was subtle, a compromise between his need to stay in control and his recognition of their concern.

“I’ll take a break,” Isaac said, voice still quiet but carrying a note of finality. “For a few minutes.”

Pickle’s lips curved into a small smile, their victory quiet but satisfying. “Thank you,” they whispered, their head resting back against his shoulder.

Isaac didn’t respond with words, but his hand remained on them, a silent acknowledgment of their presence. He leaned forward just enough to close the file on his desk, setting it aside with deliberate slowness, as if reluctant to fully let go of the case just yet.

“Gyoza and tamagoyaki, hm?” he asked softly, his stoic tone almost teasing, though the softness was barely detectable unless you were close enough to notice.

Pickle chuckled softly, nodding. “Your favorite.”

Isaac’s lips twitched, just the barest hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth, though his expression remained mostly impassive. “You know me too well,” he murmured.

They sat in silence for a moment, Isaac’s hand resting on Pickle’s back, their warmth melting some of the tension that had been knotted in his shoulders. The case would still be there when he returned to it, but for now, in this quiet moment, he allowed himself to let go just enough to be with them.

He tightened his grip on them slightly, almost absentmindedly. It was his way of holding onto the small softness he rarely let himself show, but that Pickle always seemed to bring out in him.

“Let’s eat,” Isaac said finally, his voice still firm, but now tinged with something softer, more human.

And for once, the case could wait.

Sitting on Isaac's lap would heal something in me.

[floralovebot]

Ive seen a lot of ppl say that Musa was whitewashed by the Fate: Winx saga, but while I agree an east asian actress should have been chosen, the actress Elisha Applebaum is jewish. From what Ive read, its controversial whether jewish ppl inherently count as poc or not so im not sure if I would call it "whitewashing"

Well, I'm not sure I'm the best person to talk to about this considering I'm not Jewish?

But from what I do know, this is an extremely controversial topic (like you said) that really doesn't have any one answer. There are Jewish people who fully consider themselves to be white (and Jewish of course but like... white too), and there are Jewish people who consider themselves to be poc. I think it's important to remember that a lot of the "Jewish people aren't poc if they aren't black/asian/dark-skinned/etc" comes from antisemitism or anti-zionism. A lot of poc in the west specifically say this because of antisemitism so a lot of the arguments for it are... not great to say the least.

In regard to Elisha specifically, she's ethnically Jewish so I think you could argue that it doesn't count as whitewashing, but that's really up to Jewish people to discuss. It's obviously still wrong for her to have been cast as Musa, that's not up for discussion, but whether she considers herself white, whether Jewish people consider her white, whether non-Jewish people (goyim?) consider her white and how much of that response is linked to internal antisemitism is all very personal and case by case. I'm not sure if there's a specific term for when people sort of... race or ethnicity change a character of color to a different but still not white race so like...?

But anyway, again there is no One specific answer because there's so much discussion and outright arguing over it. A lot of Jewish people do consider themselves to be poc and often West Asian/Middle Eastern (depending on who you ask) but there are a lot of arguments among themselves as well. This discussion really should be left up to them!

It's funny you mention this because I was actually discussing this with a Jewish mutual years ago! Here are some really interesting articles (written by Jewish people (as far as I'm aware)) that I found really helpful at the time: one, two, three, and four. There were others but I can't find them now :(

(There's also the matter of people converting to Judaism which is a similar but ultimately very different conversation so I do want to clarify that I'm specifically referring to ethnically Jewish people.)

[bedoballoons]

Yandere Tighnari, Venti, lyney, Freminet and Aether finding out Reader isn't really into short guys They're into someone bigger and taller {{Itto For Aether, Alhaitham for Tighnari, Nevillete for both Lyney and Freminet and Zhongli for Venti}}

I READ THIS AND WAS LIKE YESSSSSS!!! (As a short person I find this hilarious and your idea is literally genius!) I hope you enjoy and thank you so much for your request!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

{༻~Just not that into short bois~༺}

CW: Yandere themes!, characters are obsessive to the point of wanting to harm others so they can't take you, unrequited love, intense jealousy, mild angst! Lyney makes Neuvillette disappear! Also this is much longer than I meant it to be...what can I say, I like yanderes!

(Includes: Lyney, Tighnari, Venti, Freminet, and Aether!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyney had been told no many times in his life,in fact he couldn't even count how many people said he could never be a famous magician...and yet he'd proved every single one of them wrong. He simply couldn't stand not working towards something everyone else claimed was impossible, because in his eyes anything was possible, so when you confided in him about your feelings towards Neuvillette and stated that you found him more charming because of his height, even going so far as to mention you didn't really like short men as much...he just couldn't give up so easily.

He was madly in love with you, to the point it had become more than obsession, he'd seek you out anytime he'd left his home and any show he'd make sure to wink at you the moment his eyes met yours, he was so head over heels for you that he was physically unable to think about anyone or anything else. This also meant he wouldn't let anyone take you...especially just because they were taller...absolutely not.

So for his next show he planned something extra special, a magic trick truly wonderful in everyway...and as the crowd cheered, watching in awe when the box that had contained the chief of justice disappeared before their very eyes...none of them were aware he wouldn't show back up again...at least not for along while. Not until Lyney had found a way to make you love him, not until you...the most precious beautiful thing in all the world...was his.

𑁍༄Tighnari:

Tighnari stood next to you, his ears drooping with regret as he watched you flirt away with Alhaitham, his tall muscular figure drawing you to him like a moth to a flame...making you completely forget about the one who'd brought you together in the first place. It was like some cruel trick of fate...especially considering Tighnari had planned to confess his feelings for you that same day...and now it seemed like it would do no good..

He tapped your shoulder, not waiting for your response as he intertwined his hand with yours, pulling you away from Alhaitham as quickly as possible...and silently hoping you'd leave the whole situation at that. You on the other hand were not so happy with him, wanting desperately to continue your conversation with the handsome scribe..., "Tighnari what was that about? I was really getting along with-" He put a gloved finger to your lips, making you go quiet, his heart racing as he looked deep into your eyes.

"I love you...so much. I can't even really wrap my head around my feelings because they are so intense...it's like I need you just to keep going...like you're the thing I simply cannot live without. Even the air I breathe isn't as important as you are...." His confession was a bit much to say the least and adding to it was the kiss he placed on your forehead, causing you to jerk away from him.

"I'm sorry...but I don't feel that way for you..." Your words spilled out before you could stop them, your heart racing with fear at the change in his mannerisms...he didn't even respond...he just stood there...like he was plotting something and you...were about to find out just how crazy his love for you actually was.

𑁍༄Venti:

"I actually do have feelings for someone."

The second those words left your lips Ventis heart began to race, his mind clouded over with thoughts of you confessing to him and telling him you loved him...it was all he wanted. No, it was all he needed! He tried his best to calm himself down, taking a sip of wine before responding like someone who was completely clueless of the others feelings would, "Oh ho ho and who would that lucky person be hmm?"

A blush coated your cheeks followed by a sweet flustered smile that could make even Lord Barbatos swoon and boy was he...until you answered, "I like Mr. Zhongli~" You giggled nervously, not noticing how pale Venti went the second he heard the name...how the part of the wine bottle he'd been holding had shattered, much like his heart...you didn't even notice the hurt tone of his voice when he asked, "What does that old blockhead have that I don't?"

The question definitely took you by surprise, but you assumed he wasn't being serious and decided to answer truthfully, "Well he's a bit more refined...and I like his voice, but most of all he's so tall! I'm sorry Venti but I just can't imagine myself with someone...so tiny." The anemo archon was speechless...hatred seeping into his very being and jealousy getting the better of him. He stood up without another word and left, leaving you wondering what had happened...

𑁍༄Freminet:

Freminet was completely silent, his face bright red and burning with a rage he'd never felt before, his hands barely able to keep steady as jealousy ate away at his once calm heart heart. All he wanted was you...your love, that sweet smile that he craved to see everyday, but here you were, sitting Infront of him with this doe eyed look on your face as you fawned all over none other than the chief of justice. Mentioning more than once how tall and handsome he was, how incredible it would to have a man like him around.

"Enough."

You paused mid sentence, caught off guard by the amount of malice in his once kind sweet voice, watching as he stood up from his seat, your mouth slightly agape. You'd never seen him like this before...so angry and confident, it was scary...yet also a little exciting. After a moment of silence you'd worked up the courage to say something...but you didn't even manage to get a single word out as he grabbed the front of your shirt and pulled you harshly towards him, making you let out nothing more than a sharp gasp.

Your face went red, pure shock displaying itself on your features as he leaned in closer, his light purple eyes seemingly staring into your soul as his whispers grazed your ear, sending a shiver down your spine, "Hush now my love...you don't need him...I promise~"

𑁍༄Aether:

Aether was always there to help someone, so reliable in fact, that everyone called on him whenever there was a issue and including you, after all he'd saved you from many close calls...even saving your life a few times in the process and for that you were incredibly grateful, but alas you were still not in love with him. He on the other hand couldn't get enough of you, he just wanted to be near you all the time...be your hero and love you like nobody else ever could.

He...however wasn't the only person who could save someone and when the friendly neighborhood oni stepped in to save you, Aether was anything but pleased... especially when he saw the difference in how you acted. Yes your gratitude was the same...but you'd gotten all flustered at the onis impressive figure, touching the large man's chest while your face heated with such a strong blush and everyone around you cheered him on.

Aether was more than a little upset, suddenly understanding that he clearly wasn't your type and that he probably would never be, he just couldn't stand it! How could you, the person he'd do absolutely anything for...be so enraptured by someone else...just because they were bigger than him. No, he wouldn't let it stand, he'd fight for you, even if it meant doing things he could regret later on...it didn't matter, not anymore. You were all he cared about...all that mattered.

Just. You.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a nice day*⁠.⁠✧

[qsmpbutwithsignlanguage]

@inblueee2, here's your explanation. I apologize that this took longer than expected, I had extenuating circumstances that prevented me from researching this further yesterday, and this was also a greater undertaking than I expected. However, I appreciate that you asked, because your reply got me to look a bit deeper into this situation and get a better understanding of the legality behind this all.

(btw super sorry if I messed anything up here, law is not my specialty and while I researched this to hell and back please take it with a grain of salt)

Please Note: This is based on law in the United States of America. I have neither the fluency, the connections, the money, nor the trust in Google's translation to give a cohesive summary of Mexico's laws regarding this. If you would like that, I'll direct you to mokkacat's post that delves into that a bit more; they are Mexican, and are able to give a better analysis of that then I can.

I’ll summarize it up here, but if you want a more in depth explanation then I’ll direct you below the cut.

The Beneficial Ownership Information act requires business owners, alongside anyone who owns more than 25% of a company, to give the information of the owner to the United States government. However, this information is kept in a private and secure database. It is not public, and Quackity was within his rights to keep his identity concealed regardless of if he is a private business owner. Léa's leak of information could fall under doxing, an illegal act in California, Mexico, and France. Because this is an international situation, it’s not as clear cut as I’d like. California defines doxing by the intent of the doxer (i.e. did Léa want to cause Quackity fear for his safety/physical harm/harassment towards him and his family), however Mexico and France appear to not. If Léa intended to dox Quackity, then her actions were undoubtedly illegal. If not, then it's a bit messier. Quackity will most likely not sue Léa.

Anyway: a cut, for the in depth explanation with sources and everything. Because this is long.

Pre-emptive apologies and forewarnings: I am neither a law student nor a lawyer or legal advisor. If I misunderstand anything or misconstrue the facts and evidence then I apologize, but this is what I have gathered. I have researched this to the best of my abilities in the time allotment that I gave myself, and no falsehood written here is purposeful, however I would not be surprised if there are mistakes made. The general concept remains the same throughout. 

This is the law of the United States of America, and in some places, specifically the law of the state of California. These laws may not apply to the same extent, or at all, if the following are true: if Quackity Studios is registered in Mexico, if Quackity's current primary residence is in Mexico, if Quackity is only a citizen of Mexico and not the United States of America, or if Quackity does not have any sort of green card or worker's visa. I don't know the stipulations of him living in the United States, nor will I vigorously search, as it feels intrusive. I am not familiar in any way, shape, or form with the laws of Mexico. As I don't know where in Mexico it would be registered, I cannot find administrative district/state specific laws. Again, it would feel like a breach of privacy to search for this, so I am leaving it be. Refer to mokkacat’s post for information there, if you would like. 

I'm going to start from the ground up here. Any website owned and operated by the government of the United States of America has the top-level domain of .gov at the end of the URL, where you would otherwise find .com, .edu, or .gov. This can only be used by an official government organization in the United States of America (for example, the National Park Service, the U.S. Department of the Treasury, those types of things). The French equivalent to this looks to be .gouv.fr. The important thing here is that this information is, without a single doubt, verifiably accurate to the current state of the legal system and laws in the United States of America. You cannot fake it. You can fact check this by going to almost any .gov website and clicking at the top, where it says, "An official website of the United States government Here's how you know"

This is relevant information.

Now, the United States of America has a government website called Financial Crimes Enforcement Network. This website deals with, as the name suggests, financial crimes, alongside general financial information. It is a subset of the United States Treasury, and is undeniably a reliable source for information about current United States laws. One of the important, recent regulations put into place by the FinCEN involves Beneficial Ownership Information (BOI). Among other things, the BOI requires the owners (alongside anyone with 25+% ownership) of most companies registered in the United States of America to submit information regarding the identity of its primary owner. There is some nuance here, depending on how the company operates, and what exactly its actions entail (for example, accounting firms and government agencies can be exempt from this). Given the nature of Quackity Studios, however, this is most likely the law that applies.

The important thing here is that while the information of the company's owner must be provided to the government, this information is kept private from the public. 

"Beneficial ownership information reported to FinCEN will be stored in a secure, non-public database using rigorous information security methods and controls typically used in the Federal government to protect non-classified yet sensitive information systems at the highest security level." - Beneficial Ownership Information Reporting Frequently Asked Questions

"Section 6403 further requires FinCEN to maintain this information in a confidential, secure, and non-public database, and it authorizes FinCEN to disclose the information to certain government agencies for certain purposes specified in the CTA, and to financial institutions to assist in meeting their customer due diligence obligations. In both cases, these disclosures are subject to appropriate protocols to protect confidentiality." - Beneficial Ownership Information Reporting Requirements

Within the United States of America, Quackity has a legal right to conceal his full name and specific identity from the public, regardless of whether or not he is the owner of a company or corporation registered in the nation. There are specific circumstances in which this confidentiality can be broken. Those are noted in the quote above (due diligence obligations and disclosure to certain government agencies). However, to my knowledge, Léa’s leak of Quackity’s personal information would not qualify as one of these moments of allowed breach, nor would that confidentiality have been broken in the correct manner.

It is established that Quackity was within his rights in the United States of America to conceal his identity from the public, but the more important question here is: why would Léa leaking his personal information be illegal? Here, I believe it gets a bit more messy.

It depends on how you view this situation. In this situation, I am using California's laws. Laws about doxing vary from state to state, and likely differ from nation to nation. If you want Mexico-specific laws, then I recommend, again, going to mokkacat's post. They have more information here than me. However, because Quackity lives at least a fair portion of his time every year in the state of California, this will focus on the laws there.

The law itself is straightforward: California Penal Code 653.2, "Every person who, with intent to place another person in reasonable fear for his or her safety, or the safety of the other person’s immediate family, by means of an electronic communication device, and without consent of the other person, and for the purpose of imminently causing that other person unwanted physical contact, injury, or harassment, by a third party, electronically distributes, publishes, e-mails, hyperlinks, or makes available for downloading, personal identifying information, including, but not limited to, a digital image of another person, or an electronic message of a harassing nature about another person, which would be likely to incite or produce that unlawful action, is guilty of a misdemeanor punishable by up to one year in a county jail, by a fine of not more than one thousand dollars ($1,000), or by both that fine and imprisonment."

Vista Criminal Law, a website ran by registered Criminal Defense Attorney, Peter M. Liss, lists examples of doxing (violations of California Penal Code 653.2) as the following:

full name

address

phone number

social security number

email address

workplace details

financial records

family information

other personal information

The important question here is whether or not Léa posted that information with the intent of placing Quackity in reasonable fear for his safety or the safety of his family and imminently causing Quackity unwanted physical contact, injury, or harassment. Hence why I am iffy about this. If Léa intended for that information to lead to the harassment of Quackity or his family; what she did was illegal. If Léa did not intend for the information to lead to the harassment of Quackity or his family, and what she did was a pure mistake on her part, then what she may have not been illegal in the state of California. This conclusion this would be different if you follow the laws of other nations, i.e. France or Mexico, because they have different laws surrounding doxing, but I’m focusing on California. 

Léa caused Quackity reasonable fear for his safety, the safety of his family; unwanted physical contact, injury, or harassment. The most important thing here is intent.

To my knowledge, though I am hesitant on this, as I am not fluent or anywhere close to that in French, France forbids the act of doxing as well. Under LOI n° 2021-1109 du 24 août 2021 confortant le respect des principes de la République (1) Article 36, doxing is forbidden. "« Art. 223-1-1.-Le fait de révéler, de diffuser ou de transmettre, par quelque moyen que ce soit, des informations relatives à la vie privée, familiale ou professionnelle d'une personne permettant de l'identifier ou de la localiser aux fins de l'exposer ou d'exposer les membres de sa famille à un risque direct d'atteinte à la personne ou aux biens que l'auteur ne pouvait ignorer est puni de trois ans d'emprisonnement et de 45 000 euros d'amende."

It is difficult to define how laws work between nationalities and nations; this is something that actual lawyers and legal teams can find themselves struggling with. It is also difficult when these laws are defined by intent. The most important point here is that people argue that Léa's leak of information was illegal because Quackity had a right to retain the privacy of his personal information; and it falls under doxing, an illegal act, in both California and France. 

However, the bottom line is intent is the most important thing here, and I genuinely have no clue whether French, American, or Mexican laws would apply when it comes to the dox. If Mexican or French laws apply, then it appears that Léa’s actions were illegal. If Californian laws apply, then intent would have to be defined, and that is difficult. If it was intentional, Léa committed a crime. If it was a pure mistake, then it can be summarized by saying it's complicated.

So there you go. I’m sure that there was at least one mistake in this, so I recommend taking it all with a grain of salt, but that’s my best summary of why people are arguing that Léa’s actions were illegal. I'm not sure how to end this; I've done way too much research on this topic for my own good, but I can't be mad at understanding more than I did when I started looking into this. I really hope this made sense, if you read all the way to the end, lmao. This is, like, 2,000 words.

I don't know how to phrase this any better, but I seriously think that Léa needs to get a lawyer or legal advisor and step away from Twitter for a moment. I get that she feels a moral obligation to provide fans and former fans with a constant flow of all the information that she has available (which is an important thing, and she has been the main source of inside information since this all happened), and I know that she likely cannot pay for a lawyer herself on account of the fact that this whole issue arose because she (alongside others) were not getting paid.

However, regardless of whether or not leaking Quackity's personal information was a purely human mistake rendered lesser on account of the labor laws broken by him and his studio (in her own tweets, as her own argument), it should not have happened. Bottom line is that she rushed to provide the internet with information about the situation, and she made her argument, her voice, and her credibility lesser as a result of that.

Not only did she do what could be argued as a crime in more than one nation (though I am a bit iffy here; I am not a law graduate or student of any sort), but she directly harmed Quackity, and possibly his family, who had no part in this situation.

Her need to get information out as quickly as she can as the inside force led to this massive mistake, and no matter how you want to frame it (because it is still a mistake), it really should not have happened. It harmed both Léa and Quackity (though I would stand to argue one more than the other), and it could have been avoided if there was someone else working behind the scenes, or if Léa had simply checked the screenshot over a few times before posting it.

I'm not certain how to end this post, but I've thought this for a long time. This is a legal situation in which she is one of the primary witnesses. With such a large part of this playing out on Twitter, in a borderline trial of public appeal (not sure how much better I can phrase this, because such a massive part is involving the opinion of fans) she needs to understand how important and influential her words are, and how catastrophic it can be to both her cause and Quackity's if she messes up.

[writtenbymoonflower]

hey lovey!! 💐 I just wanted to say I ADORE ur writing & I'm currently binge reading all of them <⁠(⁠///￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠///)⁠>. but I did want to request something silly, since I've been thinking about poly!marauders being with the reader. and her calling them "girl" accidentally instead of their usual endearment ��. and the reason is because her friends use it a lot and it just kind of rubbed off on her ?! I would just like to imagine their confusion 😭 anyways pls have a lovely day/night <33

I love this! Also sorry this took so long. I left my computer charger at home while I was at uni but I got it back!

wc 710

You were laid on the settee, still slightly sweaty from your hot walk back from class. You would’ve reached for Sirius if you didn’t think you would make his clothes damp as well. He was doing some kind of work on his computer next to you while James was in the kitchen fixing you both something to eat. These little quiet moments were sometimes your favorite, just being comfortable in each others silence. Especially considering how your boyfriends could be such chatterboxes.

That didn’t mean that you didn’t enjoy rambling to them, though. You just didn’t feel the need to fill comfortable space with flippant comments. You were almost asleep when you heard the click of the door being unlocked.

Remus stepped inside in his usual meticulous way, hanging his coat neatly on the coatrack, unlacing his shoes and lining them up by the door rather than kicking them off, and placing his crossbody bag carefully on the bench by the door. All before calling out a gentle “I’m home.”

“How was work, love?” James responded from the kitchen, scrubbing his hands in the sink.

“Long.” He groaned. “I’m going to shiv Michael. His unplanned vacation is really disrupting my schedule.” He grumbled. “Going to have to catch up on my classes too.” He sighed, more resigned than annoyed.

“Want me to go to your work when he’s back and give him a hard time?” Sirius said mischievously, beckoning the sandy-haired boy over.

Remus just chuckled softly in response before kissing him on the top of the head. He turned to you, face etched with exhaustion and affection. “How was class today, dovey? Did I miss anything?”

You reached for his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “Nothing important. It was just a catch up day.”

He hummed in satisfaction, reaching to stroke your jaw. You leaned into his touch sleepily before your eyes popped open and you jolted upright.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe I almost forgot to tell you. Girl, you will not believe what Molly said to me today. I-“ You were cut off by a surprised, if not amused look on Remus’ face and a barking laugh from the kitchen.

“Excuse me, what?” James choked.

You turned around, looking at him confused. “What?”

Sirius was also smiling, holding back a laugh. “What did you just say to Moons?”

You paused, eyebrows raised in confusion. “I said that he wouldn’t believe what Molly-“

“No no no.” James chuckled, cutting you off. “What you said before that.” At your continued bewilderment he clarified. “Angel, you called Remus ‘girl’. Did you not mean to?”

At the realization on your face Sirius breaks down. Shaking with nearly silent laughter. Remus’ eyes just roll into the back of his head, clearly amused but not willing to put on a spectacle.

“Sorry Rem.” You said, sheepishly. “It was unconscious.”

“Unconscious!” Sirius hoots. “Is that what you call us in your head, gorgeous? Are we your gal pals?”

“I think we are. I didn’t realize this was a girl’s gossip sesh in, lovely.” James teased. “I would’ve bought ice cream and wine.”

“The two of you.” Remus admonished, looking at your still shy expression with terrible kindness. “You don’t need to apologize, dove. It was just funny. You’ve never been one to say that before.”

“Not to you.” You said quietly. “I’ve just been talking to my friends a lot lately-“

“You don’t have to defend it. We want you to talk to your friends.” James jumped in to comfort you.

“I’m glad you consider us your friends, baby.” Sirius said, half kindness and half joke. “It shows that you’re comfortable with us.”

“I am.” You reiterated. “But I won’t call you it if it upsets you.” You said sincerely.

“It hardly bothers me, dovey.” Remus reached over to squeeze your hand.

“I just can’t believe Remus is the girly.” James chuckled, forcing his face into a pout. “I’m offended, sweet thing. I thought I was your gossip buddy.”

“You are!” You said severely. “You all are.” You reached for your other two boys. “Now can I please tell you what Molly said?”

“Of course, girl. Spill the beans.” Remus said, deadpan.

It took you a while to stop laughing before you could continue the story.

[ham1lton]

QUESTION TIME?

pairings: (platonic) lewis hamilton x f1 driver!reader.

warnings: sexist comments. interviewers asking rude questions.

summary: being the only female driver on the grid means being the unofficial spokesperson for women in motorsports and you’re tired of it.

author’s note: a part of my newest series! i’m still actively looking for more scenarios and ideas regarding this universe! so if u have any thoughts or questions? let me know! i’d love to hear them <3

“do you worry that being more open and accessible to different drivers will lower the level of competition within formula one?”

the silence could be cut with a knife. everyone in the room looked at you expectantly, eyes wide as they waited for your answer. you took a sip of water as you collected your thoughts.

sometimes, when you were younger and karting, you’d wish that you had been born a boy. that might have been an unpopular opinion but you held it occasionally, although not for the reasons one might think. being a man would have meant that you would have been treated as just another driver rather than a novelty. no one else on the panel was expected to act like a mouthpiece for their entire gender.

taking a deep breath, you composed yourself before addressing the question. "i understand the concern about maintaining the high level of competition within formula one. however, i believe that diversity and inclusivity in motorsports can actually enhance the competition rather than detract from it."

you glanced around the room, meeting the expectant gazes of the reporters and fellow drivers. "by opening up opportunities to drivers from different backgrounds and experiences, we bring new perspectives and skills to the sport. this diversity can drive innovation and push the entire field to new heights."

pausing for a moment to gather your thoughts, you continued, "i don't necessarily think talent and competitiveness are determined by gender or any other factor. it's about skill, dedication, and passion for racing. embracing diversity not only reflects the world we live in but also strengthens formula one as a whole."

as you finished speaking, you could sense a shift in the atmosphere of the room. while your response might not have been what everyone expected, you knew it came from a place of honesty and conviction. and deep down, you hoped that your words would spark a broader conversation about the importance of inclusion in motorsports.

the room digests your response, slowly and steadily until another interviewer speaks up. "i get where you're coming from, but let's be real here. formula one is about pushing the limits, about being the best of the best. we can't afford to water down the competition just for the sake of diversity."

you respected his perspective, knowing that he always spoke his mind but god, if that wasn’t the worst way to word that. "i hear you," you replied, "but i don't see diversity as watering down the competition. if anything, it's about elevating it. different perspectives bring new challenges and force us to raise our own game. isn't that what racing is all about?"

he paused, considering your words. "i suppose you have a point," he conceded, nodding thoughtfully. "but we still need to ensure that the drivers who make it to formula one are truly the best, regardless of where they come from."

you nodded in agreement, acknowledging the importance of maintaining high standards in the sport. "absolutely," you agreed. "and i believe that by embracing diversity, we can do just that. it's not about lowering the bar; it's about expanding it to include drivers who might have otherwise been overlooked."

after a moment, lewis, who had been your unofficial mentor throughout the process of integrating into formula one, raises his hand. he had been listening to the whole exchange with a furrowed brow.

“i just want to echo what y/n has said,” he began. “diversity isn’t a threat, if anything it’s our greatest asset.”

he turned to address the room, his gaze steady. "we've seen time and time again how diversity helps drive innovation and pushes the sport forward. and it's not just about gender or race – it's about welcoming drivers from all walks of life and giving them the opportunity to shine."

lewis paused, letting his words sink in. "formula one should be a reflection of the world we live in – diverse, inclusive, and full of opportunity. and by embracing that diversity, we make the sport stronger, more competitive, and more exciting for fans around the globe."

you smile at that and grin at the interviewer.

“is that a good enough answer for you?” he nods and your remark sparks laughter in the room. after a moment, the interviewers target your peers and you take a deep breath. free at last.

when the interview concludes, you find yourself walking step by step with lewis, who smiles at you.

“you answered those questions well. i’m proud.”

“just followed the hamilton playbook.” you tease. “who knows? maybe i’ll be fighting you for that championship next.”

“i’d welcome the challenge.” lewis laughs, his eyes bright with amusement. “but seriously y/n, never underestimate the power of your voice and your presence in this sport. i always say that the goal is to leave the sport better than we found it, and you’re only in your second season and doing that. i have no doubt you’ll achieve great things.”

his voice is thick with sincerity and he places a warm hand on your shoulder before leaving. as he disappears, a young girl wearing your merch comes bounding up to you. she’s grinning wide with a missing tooth and when she speaks, her accent is thickly american with a strong lisp.

“y/n! hi!” she waves a massive poster in front of you. it has your name, your number and a message of support. “y/n you’re the coolest! will you sign my poster please?”

with a warm smile, you kneel down and grin at her.

“of course! i’d be honoured.” your assistant hands you a sharpie and you scrawl your signature in the corner of her poster. her parents taking a photo of the two of you and then with her parents permission, you sign her hat and her shirt. “thank you so much for all of your support. it means everything and more to me. keep cheering me on okay? i do this for all of you.”

“i will!” she beams. you laugh and pass your assistant her pen. “you’re my hero y/n! thank you!”

she bounces off and her parents wave while saying their thanks. your heart swelled up after that interaction, reminding you as to why you do this. why you deal with all those incessant annoying questions because it gives you the opportunity to help inspire the next generation of young racers.

as you stand there, you see a guy with a camera walking your way. your eyes widen as you make a sneaky escape. today has been filled with enough questions, you think as you hide out in gavin’s office.

[ohbueckers]

WHAT’S MY NAME? not everybody knows how to work my body, knows how to make me want it, but, girl, you stay up on it.

THIS IS PART FIVE! pairing, paige bueckers x tutor!oc. notes, it took me so long to perfect this the way i wanted so enjoy muahahaha. also paige saying she prefers netflix & chill fits so well with this it’s so funny. warnings, sexual content (thhhheeee moment) honestly just filth.

paige laid sprawled across the stiff hotel bed in austin, her back against a pile of pillows she’d thrown together. the only light in the room was from the bedside table lamp to her right, and her phone was propped up in front of her, angled perfectly so that she could take in every detail of liana’s face on the screen. paige knew she should be asleep, or at least pretending to be, considering tomorrow’s game. but she couldn’t help herself.

liana was curled up on her couch, wearing an oversized crewneck that slipped off one shoulder, revealing only a slip of her skin. her curls framed her face just like always, a few stray tendrils catching the light as she shifted slightly under her blanket. paige couldn’t stop staring.

“you look way too tired, bro,” paige teased, her lips curling into a smirk that liana was getting way too used to seeing. “let me find out somebody else been gettin’ you right while i was gone.”

liana’s eyes widened from their previously low state, the blonde’s words sending her into a fit of laughter. “please! you’re the only one keeping me up these days. literally.”

paige nodded eagerly, tilting her head up with a smile as if she was completely satisfied with that response. “good. ‘cause i’d hate to have to come back and handle business.” they’d obviously just been flirting, but there was always some realness behind that. it was more like, ‘let me find out naomi been gettin’ you right while i was gone.’

liana knew paige wasn’t just talking about coming back from austin; she was talking about coming back to her, making sure no one else had taken her place. making sure that talk had really happened.

liana let her head fall back against the couch. “work’s just been killing me,” she admitted, her voice a little bit quieter now. “and of course, i miss you.” liana, if honest, didn’t usually say things like that. not with naomi, not with anyone she’d been with before—at least not so plainly. but with paige, it felt different. it felt necessary. maybe it was because, since the day they met, they’d spent nearly every day together or at least made time to talk, even when things got hectic. it had become part of her routine, part of her day-to-day existence. and if you didn’t know, that’s the quickest, easiest way to get attached to someone, especially when that someone is putting in the exact same amount of effort.

it wasn’t just about the physical attraction, though that was undeniably there. it was the connection, the way they could talk about anything—or nothing at all—and it still felt like they were sharing something important. the little moments, the ones that seemed insignificant, were starting to mean everything. and that’s what made it all so complicated for the both of them.

“i miss you too, liana,” paige said finally, not able to hide the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips as she moved her arm behind her head, adjusting her posture a little. following that, she couldn’t help the extra bit of focus she had on her screen. her eyes scanned down liana’s face, and as she licked her lips slowly, her attention was fully locked in.

liana noticed immediately. the look wasn’t exactly subtle, it never was. it made her pulse quicken, moving her phone out of frame as she rolled her eyes, unable to keep the smile from breaking through. “paige, stop trying to rizz me up over the phone.”

paige’s grin widened, chuckling as she ran a hand down her face. “so it’s working?” she asked.

liana laughed, shaking her head. “yeah, okay. you know exactly what you’re doing.” and she did. paige always knew how to push just the right buttons, how to get under her skin in a way that made her feel seen and wanted. it was part of what made it so hard to ignore. and maybe that was part of the problem, too—because liana knew just how easy it was to get swept up in all of it, to let herself fall into something that felt too good to be true.

and then, just like that, the door to paige’s hotel room swung open, breaking the moment. kk came in first, loud as always, with aaliyah, aubrey, and nika trailing behind her. liana couldn’t help but laugh as kk made her way over to paige’s bed, the blonde’s face immediately scrunching up, clearly annoyed they were interrupted.

“yo, p, you still cupcaking your girl over here?” kk teased, making her way over to paige with zero hesitation. she leaned over her shoulder, her widest smile filling the screen as she greeted liana. “what’s good, lili!?”

liana chuckled, the tiredness from before easing as she straightened up. “hey, kk. y’all treating paige alright?”

kk flashed a grin, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed now. “you should be asking if paige is treating us alright,” she shot back, the blonde instantly moving against the sheets to jerk her head back at kk’s words. but before she could say anything, kk continued her thought. “she gets annoying as hell when she can’t get to her phone to text you back.“

paige immediately rolled her eyes, trying to play it off, smacking her lips. “alright, alright, i didn’t know the feds was in the room,” she muttered, shooting her teammate a glare as she made sure to move kk’s frame from the screen.

aaliyah chimed in, of course. “yeah, she’s been getting real soft on us lately—smiling at her phone and everything.”

ice just shook her head, laughing along with the room. “she’s down bad, liana.”

liana couldn’t help but chuckle herself, the entirety of their words being absolutely hilarious, but also cute. there was something in the way they all talked about paige’s softness, the way she was smiling despite their jokes, that made her stomach twist in a good way. she liked knowing she had this effect on her, that she could make her feel something deeper, something real. it made liana feel a little more sure of what she wanted, of who she wanted.

the exhaustion from the day began catching up with her, and as she yawned, she could feel the weight of it settling into her bones, covering her mouth. paige, ever the noticer, shooed her teammates off, her teasing tone softening as she let her eyes fall over the large frame on her phone.

“imma let you go,” paige said quietly, running a hand down her ponytail. “you needa rest.”

liana nodded, smiling. “yeah. you do, too, though,” she lectured, flipping over to her side. “good luck with your game tomorrow.”

“we’ll talk after, okay?” paige replied, her eyes never leaving her screen. she hesitated for a moment, searching liana’s face for any sign of doubt, any worry that something was off. the doubt still tried to worm its way into paige’s mind, especially with everything unsaid between them. but she didn’t prodde, as much as she wanted to. she trusted liana, trusted what they had, even if there were moments when it all felt a little too fragile. in a few days, when they were finally together again, paige knew she’d let her actions speak louder than her words ever could.

after a busy day being back in storrs—filled with practice sessions and home game prep—paige was finally heading over to liana’s apartment. it seemed like their schedules had aligned perfectly for once, but even so, paige couldn’t shake the nagging wish that she’d been able to spend more of the day with her. the season was always busy, but lately, she found herself getting frustrated with it in a way she hadn’t before. it wasn’t just the games or the practices—it was the fact that she actually had someone she wanted to see, and it made everything less satisfying because it kept them apart. the promise of a quiet night together felt like a much-needed respite. the evening had settled in, and as paige approached liana’s building, she felt almost nervous. she’d actually been invited to sleep over, which they’d never done before. it felt intimately scary.

when she walked into the apartment, she was greeted by the soft sound of running water coming from the bathroom. paige closed the door behind her, locking it out of habit before making her way to the back. liana had insisted she come in without knocking, saying she’d be in the shower when she arrived.

paige wandered into the bedroom, dropping her overnight bag onto the floor as she took a seat on the edge of the bed. her tv played some music, and although paige had been in this room a few times before, it felt strange… different. it’s only because you haven’t seen her, stop it.

she could hear the water shut off in the bathroom, followed by the sound of liana moving around. paige leaned back on her hands, letting her eyes wander around the room, trying to steady her thoughts, but something caught her attention, her mind obviously wanting her to do anything but. it was a small pile of clothes sitting neatly on the bed right next to her. she blinked, realizing that liana had left them there, which meant one thing: she’d have to come out in just her towel.

paige licked her lips, her nerves quickly giving way to a different kind of anticipation. she knew she should probably look away, give her some space, but she couldn’t help but feel like the girl had done it on purpose.

her attention drifted toward the bathroom door just as it creaked open. and there she was—liana, wrapped snugly in a white towel, steam still trailing behind her as she stepped out. her skin glowed, still damp from the shower water, and her hair was still dry, cascading perfectly over her revealed shoulders.

a smirk pulled at paige’s lips, saying the one and only thing that came to mind. “daddy’s home,” she mumbled under her breath, just loud enough for her to hear.

liana rolled her eyes, though the laugh that bubbled up within her betrayed her amusement. “whatever,” she shot back, quickly grabbed the clothes off the bed, clutching them to her chest as she turned, making her way back to the bathroom to change.

paige’s eyes followed her every step, appreciating the way the towel hugged her figure until she disappeared behind the door again. when liana finally emerged, she was dressed in an off-the-shoulder tee and a pair of short shorts that showed off just enough to keep paige’s attention firmly locked on her.

“there,” liana said with a grin as she walked back over to where paige sat, sliding herself into the space between her legs. the closeness was natural, easy, like it had always been this way. “better?”

paige shook her head in a way that was deliberately iffy, still smirking as she admired her. “eh. you sure we’re not married yet? ’cause it’s starting to feel like it.” her hands found their way to liana’s body almost instinctively, fingers resting just below her hips. the touch was subtle, yet possessive in that way paige always seemed to manage without trying too hard.

liana looked down at her, placing her hands on paige’s shoulders. “married, huh? i don’t know, p… feels like you’d have to put in a bit more work for that,” she teased, though her voice softened toward the end. they both knew what they were doing, toeing that line between playful and serious, testing the waters without saying too much.

paige tilted her head up slightly, eyebrows raised. “really? feels like i been working overtime for you,” she shot back.

liana chuckled, her fingers absently playing with the ends of paige’s hair as she looked down at her. “you think so?” she asked, overall rhetorical. “maybe i’ll give you some credit… for effort.”

a few moments later, the two girls had long since found their spots at the top of liana’s bed, limbs tangled up together like they were made to fit this way. the room felt even smaller now, or it could’ve just been the proximity. liana had her head nestled on paige’s chest, her cheek pressed against her heartbeat that was trying to stay at a normal pace.

paige kept one arm draped around her, her other hand resting on liana’s thigh in a way to ground it, keep it in place. because paige was sure if she moved, she wouldn’t be able to contain herself. that same leg was thrown over her longer legs, her body angling into her. the movie played on, but neither of them were really paying much attention.

paige’s eyes drifted down to the girl in her arms, watching the soft rise and fall of her breath, the way her lashes fluttered slightly as if she were lost in thought. she felt liana shift slightly, her breath hitching for just a second before she settled again. paige tightened her grip ever so slightly, as if she could keep her from slipping away. she wasn’t sure if it was for liana’s benefit or her own, but it didn’t matter.

it was liana who broke the silence first.

“paige?” she whispered, her voice slightly shaky.

“yeah?”

liana hesitated. “can you move your hand?”

paige adjusted her posture slightly, letting her hand slide a little further up liana’s thigh, closer to her heat. she was still gentle, her movements innocent from anyone looking from above the covers. she cleared her throat. “‘course. wanna tell me why, though, baby?”

liana turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting paige’s with some soft intensity. they could make out each other’s features through the dark, knowing it like the back of their own hands. “making me feel things,” she murmured, voice almost shy.

paige’s smirk softened into something more genuine as she tilted her head, or maybe more mocking. “that a bad thing?”

she hesitated, eyes darting between paige’s eyes and lips, chin still nestled comfortably on her hand. “no.” her reply was a short, almost whiny breath as she shook her head.

paige felt a sense of satisfaction at liana’s response, that tiny, breathy “no” probably making her feel the same way. she loved this—the way she could reduce liana to these quiet, needy sounds with just a look or a touch. she felt almost addicted to the power she held, the way liana’s eyes darted between her own and her lips, as if she were waiting for permission. but beneath that, there was a softness too that came from knowing that liana trusted her enough to be this vulnerable, to fall victim to her with little shame.

there was no doubt they were inching towards something they couldn’t come back from. it should be savored, or simply not done at all, but only one of those options were actually doable. paige let her hand move just a bit higher up liana’s thigh, right where the girl needed her to be, fingers curling slightly against the fabric. “good,” she murmured. “’cause i don’t think you invited me over here just to sleep.”

liana nodded slightly, smiling. “definitely not just to sleep,” and before paige could say anything else, liana closed the distance between them, kissing her with all the strength and roughness her smaller body could muster up.

paige responded immediately, using one hand to guide liana’s body until she was perched on top of her, straddling her thigh. the weight of her smaller frame settled perfectly against her, and paige let out a low hum, eyebrows furrowing at the feeling of the heat radiating off of her. it was safe to say that they both unshamefully had some pressure built up.

liana’s hands found their way to paige’s shoulders, gripping tightly as she tried to keep up with the intensity. she could feel paige’s muscled thigh pressing into her, and her body was already reacting, hips instinctively grinding down, seeking out more of her if that were even possible. it was all-consuming, the way paige effortlessly took control, guiding her movements, making her feel everything all at once. like she knew she had to.

paige slipped her tongue past liana’s lips, exploring her mouth as her hands did their part on her lower body. hands roaming underneath her shirt, fingers digging into her soft skin as she pulled her even closer. paige’s heart raced, her thoughts hazy with the overwhelming urge to make liana just forget about everything else. about naomi, about any doubts or second thoughts. it was just them now, and she was determined to make sure liana knew exactly where she belonged.

every little sound she made drove paige deeper into wanting her. she loved the way liana’s fingers dug into her shoulders, the way her hips moved so instinctively. it was the kind of control that went beyond just physical—she could feel it in the way she was giving herself over. her fingers slipped into the waistband of her shorts, moving them right over her clit, not being interested in making her girl wait. with thought-out slowness, she began to rub at her heat, feeling the dampness that had already soaked through thanks to her lack of underwear.

“fuck, liana.” her mutter against her jawline almost went unnoticed, her voice low as she placed soft, messy kisses along her skin. “so wet. knew you needed me, huh? could feel it the second you started grinding this pussy on me.”

liana’s eyes screwed shut at paige’s words, her entire body shivering as she pressed herself harder against her fingers. the slickness between her thighs only intensified, her need growing with every passing second. she could barely form coherent thoughts, let alone words, but she managed to let out a shaky, “y-yeah… needed you… so bad…”

paige grinned against her skin, her lips trailing down liana’s neck, ghosting over the spot from their night in the car that had started to fade with time. she made sure to leave a new one, sucking at it relentlessly for a few moments. liana bit her lip, trying to stifle the whimpers that kept slipping out, but it was useless. paige knew exactly how to unravel her.

liana’s moans grew louder, her hips bucking uncontrollably as paige’s fingers moved faster, in circles, up and down… the pressure building inside her. it was overwhelming, the pleasure throbbing through her in waves, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer. “p-paige… i’m—fuck!“ she said, clearly frustrated she could hardly get her words out.

paige watched liana lose control underneath her with her bottom lip tucked between her teeth, quickly throwing the thick blanket off of them so she had more room to move. “go ahead. lemme hear you.” her heart pounded in her chest, her own restraint hanging by a thread as she focused on driving liana over the edge. none of their other encounters had ever felt like this, this personal and damn good.

paige’s words hit liana like a command she couldn’t disobey. her entire body responded, trembling as the tension that had been building inside of her finally snapped. she cried out, following the blonde’s commands word for word as every muscle in her body tightened, then released in a rush, leaving her breathless and spent.

paige kept her eyes locked onto liana’s face as she watched every moment of her unraveling, licking her lips and leaving them glistening. she was lost, so completely undone by her hands alone. “that’s it, baby,” she murmured, her voice bringing liana back to reality, opening her eyes as paige slowed her movements, drawing out liana’s climax. “so fuckin’ perfect.”

liana’s breathing began to steady, though her legs still trembled slightly in the aftermath. paige, all in her lust, leaned down, pressing a kiss to her lips. then another one, and another one… all while helping her off her leg and settle back into the pillows, smoothing the damp curls away from her forehead, her thumb brushing softly along her flushed cheeks. she just wanted to take care of her in every way.

for a second, paige thought about stopping there. that shared vulnerability was already enough, right? the way liana had lost herself, gotten comfortable real quickly—it felt almost sacred. they could have left it at that, and it would have been more than enough. but when paige looked into liana’s eyes—saw the way her chest still heaved with shallow breaths, the softness of her expression, the way her lips were parted in that unguarded, needy way—she knew they weren’t done.

liana looked like she wanted more. hell, paige knew she wanted more too.

she leaned in, capturing liana’s lips again, this time with more intent, more need, the kiss deepening as her fingers ghosted down her side. she loved the way her body responded underneath her, arching ever so slightly into her touch, like she was asking for it without saying a word.

paige pulled back just enough to murmur against her lips, “you good?”

liana’s eyes fluttered open, lips still plump, but there was a small, almost shy nod. “yeah… i’m good. i’m really good.”

paige smirked at that, kissing her again just to feel liana melt a little more before slowly hooking a finger into the waistband of her shorts, pulling them down and letting them drop off the side of the bed. she couldn’t help but smile at the sight of liana spread out beneath her, chest rising and falling as she watched her with those wide, expectant eyes. without breaking eye contact, paige grabbed the hem of her own shirt, tugging it off in one quick motion, leaving herself in just her sports bra. her shorts followed, discarded just as easily as liana’s.

leaning over the side of the bed, the blonde pulled her overnight bag up, rummaging through it for a second before pulling out the strap she’d packed. liana’s eyes widened a little, watching as she slid the harness on, adjusting it snugly around her hips. her focus was on the way paige moved—so sure of herself, so in control. but underneath that control, the girl was just as nervous, the receiving end of the strap pressing against her, giving her just enough to heighten every movement she made.

paige climbed back onto the bed, hovering over liana as she pressed a few kisses along her collarbone, down her chest. liana’s breath got caught in her throat when paige’s lips brushed just above her stomach, her hands instinctively finding their way to her sides, fingers digging into her skin as she waited for what was next. paige settled between her legs, hands firm on her thighs as she focused on stretching her out to get her ready.

“paige,” liana whispered, trying to find herself before they got around to that. “i’ve never…” her voice came out practically breathless, and it took a second for paige to process the words, but as they sank in, she stilled, looking up from where her fingers had been previously getting to work. her mind instantly went back to the conversation they’d had in the bar, the first time liana had really opened up. that night when she’d admitted she’d never been with any guys. she’d said it so casually at the time, and it didn’t matter then.

it mattered now.

she pushed herself up slightly, hands resting gently on liana’s hips. “it’s alright,” paige said softly. “we ain’t gotta do nothing y’aren’t ready for.” she didn’t rush or push, even though every nerve in her body screamed at her to keep going. liana’s comfort mattered more than anything else.

liana’s eyes were as wide as they always were, still dark with uncertainty as she contemplated something within herself. paige kept her gaze steady, her thumb brushing soothing circles against liana’s skin, doing everything to show her that this was her call. no pressure. no expectations.

she swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling as she looked at paige, the connection between them pulling tighter.

“i want it to be with you.”

those words, where she felt so sure, slammed into paige like a million bricks. it was everything and more than she’d expected, and yet, hearing it made her chest tighten. nobody had liana feeling like this but her. she let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, nodding slow. “okay,” paige said, her voice low. “just gotta know, li… you sure?” her tone was gentler than usual, but still distinctly her with that bit of edge that was all paige. she tilted her head, eyes never leaving the girl in front of her’s every expression.

“yeah… i’m sure,” liana whispered back, her lips barely moving as she adjusted her spot on the bed, and it was clear she wasn’t just saying it to say it. she meant it.

and with that, paige nodded, her heart pounding in her chest as liana’s first time was now left in her hands. she pulled back to focus, hands finding their way between her legs, fingertips grazing her wetness just like she’d done before. her movements were slow, deliberate, taking her time as she positioned herself, letting the tip of the strap brush against her heat.

she didn’t say anything, and she didn’t have to. she guided the tip along her folds, moving it slowly in gentle circles. liana’s hips bucked involuntarily, eyes squeezing shut as the sensation built. without another word, paige angled herself and slowly pushed inside, her movements careful and measured as she watched liana’s expression shift—first a slight wince, then her lips parting in a quiet gasp as she adjusted.

paige’s movements were thoughtful before they picked up, each thrust slow as she sought to make the experience as comfortable and intense for liana as possible. her blue eyes never left her face, as if tracking her down. the first subtle wince, the way her lips parted in a breathless gasp as paige pressed deeper another inch of her length.

liana’s hips bucked gently as she adjusted to the fullness. paige’s hands were steady, veiny, and using their grip firmly against her hips, sure to leave some kinda of mark. as liana’s breathing grew more ragged, paige guided her hand to her lower stomach, pressing it down so the girl could feel the bulge of the strap moving inside her. “feel that, baby?” her voice was low and throaty, yet expectant of an answer. “feel how deep t’shit’s in you?”

liana’s eyes mouth fell agape, her frame rocking up and down against the bed. her hand trembled slightly as it rested on her stomach, and the sensation was overwhelmingly good. she’d expected her first time to feel like a lot of things, this not being one of them. paige made sure to take care of her. she nodded, her voice a breathy whisper as she responded, “yeah… i can feel it… oh!”

paige’s grip tightened just a fraction, head falling over as she took in the sight herself, blonde hair creating a tent around her face. she let out a soft, appreciative groan, eyes locked on liana’s face as she took in the intimate scene.

as the intensity built, paige’s breathing became uneven, her hands still guiding liana through it, ensuring that every moment was as fulfilling as it could be. “doing so well,” paige murmured, as she watched liana become more lost in the moment.

her thrusts became more urgent, less controlled, and more sloppy. she could feel her own climax creeping closer—too close. she gritted her teeth, unwilling to let it take her first, not before she could feel liana fully surrender to it. with a low groan, paige pulled back, the sound of their heavy breathing filling the room as she steadied herself.

in one smooth motion, she shifted, pulling liana on top of her. “c’mere,” paige directed, positioning her so she straddled her waist. liana’s eyes fluttered open, dazed and already fucked-out, the slickness between her thighs coating paige’s strap as she lowered herself down, immediately gasping at the depth of the new angle.

paige’s hands found their spot just under her ass, fingers gripping firmly but leaving enough space for her to move as she pleased. “take it at your pace,” paige whispered, though her voice was thick with the kind of strain that said she was barely hanging on herself. watching liana ride her like this, hair tumbling down around her face, wasn’t doing anything to help her keep her composure. her hips rolled in the same motion over and over, riding like a fucking pro. no way she hadn’t done this before… or maybe the ‘things come easily to me’ gene ran further than just in the books.

liana bit her lip, her breath coming out in short, soft gasps as she rocked her hips harder, feeling every inch inside her. she leaned forward, pressing her chest against paige’s, entire body trembling as she whispered, “feels so good, p…” although it was more a whine.

“i know it does, li,” paige responded, her own voice starting to fray around the edges, overwhelmed by the sight and feel of liana on top of her, and now her broken voice saying all the right things in her ear, chests bonded together by the sweat. if this was what skin to skin was like, the blonde wanted to take her in like that forever. “takin’ me so good. you gonna come?” her hands slid up to her hips, tightening slightly and pulling her just a little closer.

liana’s body trembled, lips parted as she gasped for breath, barely able to nod. “yeah… oh my God… i’m so close…”

“yeah?” her response was breathless, almost there herself as she jerked her hips up to help, wanting liana to feel her deeper as she let her own hands drop, letting her get off by herself. “just let go. i got you.”

liana’s pace quickened, her moans becoming louder and more desperate as her body tensed. her head fell forward, hair falling over her face, and paige could hear the exact moment when she lost herself to the sensation. the heat between them exploded, and with one last thrust from paige, they both came undone at the same time, the release hitting like the best thing all night.

for a moment, everything was quiet except for their heavy breathing, the sound of their chests rising and falling in unison. paige could barely think, let alone speak, as she wrapped her arms around liana, pulling her close as they both came down from the high. the only light in the room came from the mounted tv, now playing random netflix previews, but it was the least of their worries.

paige was the first to break the silence. well, kind-of. it was a breathless laugh, her normal shit-eating smile returning to her face.

liana sat up from paige’s chest, her eyebrows furrowing in mock annoyance, though the corner of her lips quirked up against her will. “don’t look so smug.”

paige’s grin widened, hands still mindlessly rubbing her back slowly. “i’m liana bales’ first body.” her voice was filled with some playful arrogance, and she was clearly just poking fun, but she had only really come to terms with it now.

liana rolled her eyes, but her own smile broke through, and she shook her head. “don’t make it a thing.”

“oh, it’s a thing.”

[alexiethymia]

That is to say, “she can’t live without me”, is just another way to say “she’s not allowed to live without me.”

In relation to that earlier (crack)post, it dawns on me that for all that they call him ‘Aizen-taichou’, neither of Aizen’s vice-captains really choose him.

Sure, Aizen has only disdain for bonds, but I’m also of the interpretation that he tried to replicate at least a facsimile of them through twisted ways - loyalty, dependence etc. - but it always boiled down to no one would ever be able to understand him because no one was at his level, so he discards them.

What makes a prodigy? Age? If so, Nanao would be considered one. Intellect? But no one really alludes to either Hirako or Urahara as a prodigy. Maybe potential, and if so it would make sense that Gin and Hitsugaya are referred to as prodigies. And it would make sense to show that Aizen was at around the same age (at least physically) as Gin when he started to question everything. Despite being prodigies, Gin and Hitsugaya had what Aizen didn’t - people who understood them and made sure they didn’t feel too “other”. From his perspective, I could easily imagine Aizen perceiving his fellow prodigies as being held back by those bonds, at not even attempting to nurture their potential to be ‘god-like’. I am also of the theory that Aizen did want to bring Hitsugaya into the fold, or that he had a sense of his potential so if he wasn’t going to be under his control like Gin, then he had to be cut down.

But going back, when I say that neither of Aizen’s vice-captains choose him, this is prefaced with the context that both Gin and Hinamori were people he cultivated for years, maybe even centuries. Aizen showed Gin his true face (or as true as it could be knowing that Gin meant to kill him) while showing Hinamori the ideal captain, the image of the best captain even. But unlike Gin’s vice-captain who fights Hinamori to defend him (no matter how sick and self-loathing it made him feel deep inside), Hinamori despite being ordered by Aizen himself couldn’t manage to avenge him (she didn’t even try to her fullest capabilities). This was not in Aizen’s plans, and he even says it himself. Aizen was one of the most revered Captains, and he intentionally manipulated Momo to become dependently loyal on him, to the point that, he alleges, ‘she couldn’t live without him’. But if both were a test of loyalty, Kira passed his while Hinamori didn’t. And Gin rewards this (in a twisted sort of way) by involving Kira just enough that he could make sure that he and Rangiku were outside the blast point.

I could easily believe that Aizen intentionally did make Momo fall in love with him (his use of the words, ‘as a man’ in his letter for example), but unlike Hitsugaya who was ready to commit murder and treason just to keep Hinamori away from threats, she couldn’t fully severe that connection with Hitsugaya to avenge him. For all that Aizen seems to be above Hitsugaya and Gin, and they both lose to him, they will always have something he will never have. Even later, Momo despite the centuries of hypnosis chooses to stand on the battlefield against him.

In other words, in that confrontation, as a vice-captain, Hinamori couldn’t do for him what Kira did for Gin, and as someone who ‘loved’ or ‘admired’ him, she couldn’t do for him what Hitsugaya was willing to do for her, and this is after years and years of intentional emotional manipulation. For all of his ambitions, he failed to be the most important person for someone he intended to mold for that exact same purpose. And this is why in the realm of canon and headcanon, I do believe that as much as Hitsugaya hates Aizen, Aizen also hates Hitsugaya, just as much, insofar as someone like Aizen is capable of hatred. This is where you can see Aizen’s surface level understanding of bonds, as well as his being an unreliable narrator. His plan was for Kira and Hitsugaya to kill her, both people shown to love her, and when they couldn’t do it, for him as the person she ‘loves’ to deal the final blow. Did he really think that either Kira or Hitsugaya could actually go through with it? Maybe because he assumed that Momo actually would (because he knows the lengths Hitsugaya would go through and suspects the same of Gin, so as someone she ‘loves’ he might have had that same expectation of her).

He made sure she knew who was the one to hurt her, and he did it in the cruelest way possible. When I think about his overall plan, the interaction in Central 46 never had to happen. He already had his distraction. He didn’t have to deal death blows to both Hinamori and Hitsugaya, especially since no one at the execution knew what was going on at Central 46. In fact, it was because of that interlude that Unohana was able to warn the rest of the Gotei. But that wasn’t just an interlude. It really was part of his plan to kill Hinamori because ‘she couldn’t live without him’. Or maybe he convinced himself of that fact.

Even with Gin. For all that he says it was all part of his plan, and that he only kept Gin around because he knew Gin was going to kill him, I find it difficult to believe that he told Gin Kyouka Suigetsu’s weakness with that in mind. This is where his being an unreliable narrator comes in. When all is said and done, he can just claim it was all part of his plan. But I noticed he let his guard down when Gin claims to have killed Rangiku, and that he acknowledges that he could have been wrong about Gin having feelings for Rangiku. It seems to me that having another prodigy who was against Soul Society was something that he maybe wanted? And that he was just waiting for Gin to fully cut off those ties (to Rangiku) and prove his loyalty, in a manner of speaking.

So showing both his true face and his ideal face didn’t secure him the loyalty that he [wanted]. All the pieces fell into place, but it was actually his vice-captains who acted against his expectations. He claims it was Hirako’s rejection or suspicion that allowed him to hollowfy the Vizards, but even when he actually and actively exerted his influence over them, still neither of his vice-captains choose him. Even Urahara, who he considers an intellectual equal, still does nothing about the Soul King despite knowing the truth, because Urahara also has existing bonds he wishes to take care of. No matter how many people he hurt and defeated, and no matter that he considers it all a part of his plan, no matter that he doesn’t consider bonds important in the first place, ultimately Aizen was rejected on every front.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello!! I have a request (Unless your requests are closed, pls ignore if so)

How would the batboys react to reader if we ignore them all day as a prank? Like we avoiding seeing them, ignore their texts , calls, etc. And even when we do see them we just don't talk to them, or look at them.

Dick

Hates it, he absolutely hates it when you ignore him as he prides himself on your attention and affection.

So the moment you deny him of your attention and affection, the man might as well have thought he died and went to hell. It was pure torture for poor Dick Grayson as he pouts and huffs like a child in order to get you to look at him, even a glance from the corner of your eye will suffice!

But no, you didn’t once look up from your phone and it wounded him gravely that he might as well consider himself dead. All he wanted from a long patrol was your kisses and cuddles but all he got was you sat on the sofa on your phone, not once looking up at him as Hayley followed him closely, more then willing to give him her attention if you weren’t going to do it.

So where poor Dick was, hugging a happy Hayley close to his chest like a comfort plushy, not minding the fact that she was breathing hot dog air in his face as he kept his eyes on you. ‘You won’t abandon me like some people will you Hayley? You wouldn’t leave daddy on his own when he needs moral support and comfort after a long day.’ Dick would say obnoxiously loud enough for you to hear.

Though you didn’t show that you could hear him as your eyes remained glued to your phone, adamant in not looking up if it meant winning this bet with Stephenie, and you were determined to win no matter what.

Dick pouts as he burrows his face into Hayley’s fur, producing fake sobbing that was so obviously faked, pausing periodically just to look over at you before continuing to ‘sob’ into Hayley’s fur once more.

Still you didn’t look up.

Dick pouted as he rested his chin against the top of Hayley’s head as she was just happy to be held by her human father, non the wiser. ‘This is going to be more difficult my sweet child, time to go to phase two.’ Dick then picked up Hayley and put her in front of your face and shouted. ‘STOP NEGLECTING OUR CHILD!’ This jolted you enough to look up and be met with Hayley breathing hot dog air in your face, realisation struck you within seconds as you realised that you had just lost the bet.

Taking your defeat with dignity, you took Hayley from dick and hugged her tightly as Dick then hugged you tightly, nuzzling his face into your neck as you ran your fingers through his hair.

‘I lost a bet for this.’ You said to no one in particular as Dick was too blissed out from your fingers running through his hair as he murmured, ‘love you too honey.’

Jason

He doesn’t bother you about it at first, thinking of it as you needing some space but the more you seemingly did this, the more Jason would wonder whether or not he missed anything important.

He didn’t miss anything, Jason rarely forgot anything about you and knew in his heart that this was just like any other day, and yet even with that knowledge it didn’t make him feel anymore at ease then he was when he first noticed that you were ignoring him.

So instead he just sits next to you, takes your phone from your hand and sets it aside before pulling you into his lap and making sure you wouldn’t be able to get away from him so easily.

‘Now I know you’re not ignoring me chipmunk.’ He said but as he expected you didn’t attempt to respond to him, but instead look down at your hands as though they were more interesting than him. Jason then pinched your side, making you jolt but it wasn’t enough to make you speak or acknowledge him in the slightest like he wanted.

Jason then lowered his head to your ear, pressing a kiss to it before speaking in a low tone. ‘Sweetheart, I don’t know who set you up to ignoring me, was it Roy?’ He asked.

No response.

‘Dick?’ He asked again.

Again, no response.

‘Please chipmunk, don’t ignore me, have I done something wrong? If I have please don’t leave me in the dark, I want to make it up to you but I wouldn’t be able to if you don’t tell me sweets.’ Jason pleaded as he kept you closer to his chest, pressing soft, tempting kisses across your face and neck as his warm hands rubbed at your side. ‘I don’t like it when my baby ignores me’. He adds. Sincerely, ‘not when I love the sound of their voice and their laugh more than anything.’

‘It was Stephanie’s idea!’ You exclaimed, not wanting to ignore your sweet and gentle Jason when he needs you most, you knew how much Jason hated when you get mad at him and give him silent treatment. You knew Jason valued communication and respect above all else in your relationship, so whatever made you think that you could get through this prank without faltering to Jason’s desire to hear you talk was beyond you.

You weren’t gods strongest soldier when it came to Jason and you were reminded of this constantly with how easily you’d do anything to see him smile, he’s already suffered enough and you didn’t wish for him to suffer any more, even if it was in due to a fucking prank hurt was still hurt at the end of the day.

‘My angel finally speaks.’ Jason teased as he kissed your lips, once, twice, three times before pulling away to rest his head against yours. ‘You had me going there sweetheart, please don’t ever do that again, just talk to me if I ever happen to upset you chipmunk.’

You latch onto him and burrow your head into his neck, peppering kisses to the scars that you found there in abundance. ‘I promise, I promise I will never do it again, I promise.’ You chanted as Jason made himself comfortable on the coach, holding you close to his chest as his hands rub up and down your back and you kept kissing his neck and jawline sweetly, making up for moments you’ve neglected him of your sweet, sweet affection.

Damian

Is petty as shit and will probably try to give you similar treatment in response.

He doesn’t have the day for you ignoring him and will continue his day as he normally would, but would find himself feeling a little hollow inside when you didn’t kiss his cheek for good luck on patrol, even if he insists he didn’t need it but still it’s not like he’d refuse you from giving him affection.

Damian likes to act he’s unaffected but he was only fooling himself at this point after having gotten accustomed to your affectionate nature, so much so that he would find himself expecting your kisses, hugs and affirming words on a subconscious level.

‘I will not stoop to your level.’ Damian said to you one day.

You looked up as though you were about to say something but decided against it and look back at the book you were reading, Damian clenched his jaw.

‘This is childish even for you my treasure.’ He tried again as he moved to stand in front of you but once again you managed to pretend that you could hear him but instead stand up after putting your book aside.

‘I think I’ll take ace and Titus on a walk.’ You said to yourself as you then proceeded to walk past him and towards the doorway, just about to reach for the doorknob, only for Damian to grab your wrist and gently pull you back until you were standing in front of him. ‘They can wait and besides you can barely keep them from dragging you across the park because they saw a couple of squirrels.’ He reminded you.

For the first time in the day you actually looked at him and pouted. ‘Hey! That was one time, I’m pretty sure I have a better grip on them compared to last time.’ You defended yourself, feeling your ego bruise a little with the reminder of how you got physically dragged by two dogs. In your defence one of the dogs in question was a Great Dane.

Damian smiled softly when you finally addressed him. ‘Stoped with your silly game have you my dear?’ He asks you rhetorically as you pouted, knowing that you now owed Stephanie money for breaking as you rested your head against his chest. ‘That was a low blow dami, low blow even for you.’ You muttered.

Damian shrugged, caging you in his arms. ‘Merely doing whatever is needed to obtain my objective.’

‘And that was for me to stop ignoring you?’ You asked as you pulled your head from his chest, eyebrow raised.

‘To stop you from continuing this childish behaviour.’ Damian corrected you in hope that you didn’t feel his hammering heartbeat.

You smirked. ‘If there’s anyone to blame for such behaviour she goes by the name Stephanie, I’m sure you’re familiar with her.’ You replied as you felt Damian’s arms tighten on you.

‘I’m very familiar with such a character.’ Damian said through gritted teeth.

[thegoldencontracts]

How Can You Fluster Them?

Characters: Heartslabyul, Savannaclaw, Octavinelle

Ace Trappola:

- Pretty easily, actually.

- As smug and teasing as he can be, there are quite a few things that get him flustered.

- Bring up how sweet he's acting or how sentimental he seems to watch him sputter furiously in denial; show him direct affection and kindness to watch him blue screen for a second before embarrassedly scoffing about how lame you're being.

- You can fluster him even further by teasing him about how smug he was a second ago. That really gets him.

Deuce Spade:

- While you could tease him about being 'stupid', yes, that is a bit hurtful, and it isn't really the best way.

- Just the opposite. Genuinely complimenting his intelligence, his strengths? That's what catches him off-guard. He doesn't quite know how to acknowledge it when someone truly, genuinely tells him he's not dumb, and him not being an effortless scholar doesn't mean he is.

- There are other ways, of course, like sudden acts of affection, pranks, or even dodging his kisses.

- He gets all red, and a tad defensive. It's the funniest sight.

Riddle Rosehearts:

- Most affection flusters him.

- Seriously. He's never really received it, considering his upbringing, so even things like hugs or kisses on the cheek leave him red. You're not quite certain whether it's more cute or sad.

- He'll get rather huffy if you point it out. It's rather comedic, but you might want to refrain from laughing too much, lest he ends up chastising you.

Trey Clover:

- Pointing out his true brilliance.

- That's the main method. Although he's used to affection, to being told he's a good baker, a nice guy, and whatnot, he's not quite used to having his true potential acknowledged.

- He'll look away with a flush, denying his true intelligence, the true strength of his Unique Magic, or whatever it is you've opted to praise him for.

Cater Diamond:

- Allowing him to be genuine.

- It will take a while, frankly. With most people, Cater dons the personable mask of Cay-Cay the friendly senior, but with time... And patience, he may warm up to you enough to be himself. Be moody, the ultimate hater of sweets, and whatnot.

- He can't help but feel oddly flustered, caught off-guard, really, when you let him complain about the way Riddle was before his overblot, when you make him something salty for a dessert of sorts.

Leona Kingscholar:

- There are quite a few ways.

- If you two are together, he might tease you quite a bit. Reciprocating said teasing is certain to get him huffy and flustered. Teasing in general, really. Dodging his kisses? Headpats? Photoshopping him in cat ears? If you're close enough to him, they'll all work wonderfully.

- And... Genuine understanding flusters him as well. Prioritizing him in small ways, like taking a break from your gaming to talk to him, or allowing him to vent to you.

Ruggie Bucchi:

- Caring for him.

- Ruggie is used to having to act incredibly mature for his age, yes. He's cunning, clever, and responsible, important traits to make up for his disadvantages in life.

- So, when you (jokingly, I would hope) babytalk him, pat him on the head, or ask if he'd like to be the little spoon, it gets him terribly huffy. What's that supposed to mean, huh?

- It's even worse when you genuinely care for him, making him meals, or offering him a massage. It's hard for him to accept help. He's not a kid! He doesn't need the babying! It's worth nothing that he has a very broad interpretation of what counts as "babying". However, he will accept after a while, and be very, very flustered about it.

Jack Howl:

- Teasing him.

- He's always in denial about his softer side, no matter how apparent it becomes that he truly admires or cares for something or someone. He gets terribly flustered at his own sentiment.

- Teasing him about it just makes things worse. Dramatically exclaim how cruel he is because he said he "wasn't concerned for you or anything". Play dumb when he tries to ask for a kiss in a roundabout manner. The result is hilarious.

Azul Ashengrotto:

- There are so many ways to do this.

- Teasing him about his affections, for one. This is the same man who couldn't even admit to caring for his business, who claimed that love made one exploitable. He's already terribly mortified by his own so-called exploitability. Asking if he likes you gets him rather pouty before you're dating.

- Genuine, continued kindness is also rather flustering for him. You- care for him? Wish to see him succeed? You accept his flaws? You don't view him as pathetic for his tears? It's all territory he's terribly unused to.

Jade Leech:

- Standing up for him when he's insulted, for one. Telling the stranger that, no, his mushrooms aren't creepy, they're impressive, they just need to get a hobby. That leaves him shocked for a bit.

- There's also things like being the one to tease him, caring for him, listening to his rambles about mushrooms.

- Those leave him red-faced for a good few seconds. Calling out his flustered state garnets a pointed "Let us move on".

Floyd Leech:

- Initiating affection.

- Really, although he seems lackadaisical most of the time, impossible to fluster, it isn't quite that hard. He isn't used to being kissed, or hugged, or even praised without a certain business-oriented touch.

- So, when you suddenly kiss him, or offer to be the big spoon, or whatnot, he freezes up.

- If you point it out, he gets comedically defensive. Someone needs to tell him how terrible "I-I'm not blushing or whatever, that'd be laaame, so shut up!" Works as a method of denial.

[doomedmoth]

Three’s a crowd

Pairing : Poly and bisexual fem!reader | reader x alexandra saint mleux x charles lerclerc

Warnings : use of y/n, polyamory, fluff, very light angst, request, not much more tbh

Synopsis : Request : Could you write a poly fic about Charles, Alexandra and Y/N ? Everyone is celebrating Charles’ brand LEC but since Charles and Alex are the public couple (for Ferrari PR etc), Y/N can’t do anything. She’s starting to feel left out because of it since they’re going out and celebrating without her, they keep leaving her out and forgetting important dates (her birthday or smthg). Happy ending please !

Moth’s prophecy💡: Thank you to the anonymous cryptid for the request, I tweaked it a bit but still kept the main plot, and I hope you and the other poly enjoyers will like it ! Thanks again for the support and great ideas !

“Okay one… two… three… and posted !” You threw yourself in Charles’ arms as he clicked on the button and threw his phone away immediately, catching both you and Alex in a cuddle.

“You did it !” Alexandra pinched at his cheeks and you ruffled his hair, hands trembling with excitement.

Finally his ice-cream brand, Lec, was out, the main announcement posted on Instagram. The end of countless sleepless nights and never ending zoom calls, meetings at the worst time possible, and secrets to keep. Of course, now the promotion would be another handful, but at least the three of you would deal with it together. And you had always been pretty good at supporting your lovers.

You got into a more comfortable position on Charles’ lap, head resting against his, as Alexandra had gotten up and started her, as she called it, “happy dance”, which consisted mostly in jumping in circles screaming until she got dizzy. As you snorted, Alexandra very clearly loosing balance, Charles took your hand in his, softly rubbing it with his fingers.

“Thank you… I know it hasn’t been easy to deal with this on top of the races and everything… You’ve been amazing. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.” You could not help a smirk from coming up your lips, and thought this was the time to charge again.

“I know how you can repay me…” You straddled him, and as he did his best to appear confident and in charge, his blush betrayed his shyness. Alex had stopped spinning, seemingly much more interested in what was taking place on the couch. “Maybe you could…” You got closer to him, and peppered his neck with kisses until you got to his ear, in which you whispered as seductively as you could. “Maybe you could get me a dog ?”

He immediately rolled his eyes and playfully pushed you away as you laughed at his bright red cheeks. You had dreamt of having your own dog for so long, specifically a longhaired dachshund, and both Alex and Charles had said no multiple times. Charles’ arguments were mainly that he was away too often to properly care for it, and your girlfriend, who called the breed “hairy sausages”, argued she would have to deal with all the responsibilities of it because both yours and Charles’ works took a lot of time. And though she actually found dogs very cute, she did not have an interest big enough for them to manage her schedule around one.

You had pleaded to Lewis to use Roscoe to convince them, managed to go partly remote with your job, and flooded their messages with videos of dogs almost daily. At this point, you were seriously considering getting one in secret just to see how long it would take for them to realize, and then argue it is too late to give it back.

“Sure.” What ? You sat straight up on Charles as he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. You couldn’t have heard well. You turned to Alex, who shrugged.

“I can’t deal with seeing you cry over reels anymore, and Mimi’s pretty cute.” She gave you a warm smile. Mimi was your friend’s dog, the one who got you into dachshund in the first place.

“You’re not serious, are you ? You’re just in a good mood. You’re joking.” Charles actually laughed, and you thought your heart wouldn’t be able to handle a prank.

“Promis juré ma princesse. Why not, you want one, you can take care of it, who am I to deny you ? Let’s get you a dog.”

No matter how well isolated was your apartment, you thought you would be lucky if no neighbors came to complain tomorrow. There was a lot to celebrate for one night.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I really need you to give Leo back, we’re going to take pictures…” Searching desperately for support in Alex’s eyes, you felt sick when you saw her staring at the ground. You were so shaken you let the event coordinator take the puppy from your arms and give him to Alexandra, who sheepishly turned her back to you and walked towards the press wall.

Charles himself was nowhere and everywhere at once, it was no use trying to get him to advocate for you. Too stressed by the beginning of the racing season combined with the launching events for Lec, he had mindlessly agreed to most of his agent’s suggestions, including playing what the Ferrari PR team had called “happy family”. Following the announcement of Carlos’ replacement, they needed good news to balance, and thought emphasizing Charles’ couple and furry kid would pull at a few heartstrings. But in their good Italian traditional beliefs, there was no place for a third, and since you had always been more busy, and therefore more discreet, than Alexandra, the cut had been made. They were to be the hit couple for a while, in a vain but admittedly successful attempt at calming the fans.

You had had little to no say, Charles having always been your voice in those kinds of businesses, and Alexandra being media trained to perfection. You thought back on your promises, on your dedication to be supportive of them, and decided the best thing to do would be to go get some air. It wasn’t as if you would be missed anyway.

As you stepped on one of the secluded balconies, the cold breeze of the night came to slap your face, and without anyone’s arms or jacket to comfort you, you suddenly felt very lonely. The evening had dragged on enough, you just wanted to go home. Debating between taking a cab or waiting for your lovers, you took out your phone, only to be flooded by notifications from your socials. You barely used them, so had no idea why they would be so active all of a sudden.

Both Instagram and Twitter greeted you with the same pictures taken either by fans or paparazzis. You shopping with Carlos’s girlfriend, Leo trotting happily by your side, as well as another few at a restaurant with friends, where Leo was sleeping on your lap while Charles and Alex were somewhere in the background, probably discussing going dancing after. The usual. But this time, all the comments seemed to agree on one thing. The dog wasn’t yours.

“Did they lend her the dog for the day ?”. “Leo’s godmother.” “Is she gonna be the babysitter while they’re gone ?” “Me when my friends get a baby”.

You three had always been private, but not secret. People made their own opinions anyway, and you did not care much about polishing a public persona. You did not use socials, Alex had private accounts, and Charles’ were managed by his PR team. In the end, even though you had dated Alexandra since high school, and Charles for a bit more than a year, the lack of official pictures or announcement, coupled with Ferrari’s new strategy, only served as validation to those who affirmed the real couple were Alexandra and Charles.

You felt sick, cold, and particularly lonely. Cab it would be.

“Babe what are you doing outside like that, you’ll get a cold !” You felt his jacket fall on your shoulders before you even heard him walk up to you. Ears buzzing, eyes watering, you weren’t sure you were able to face him.

“I’m gonna go home. I’ll leave you with your girlfriend and your dog if you don’t mind.” When you turned to him, you saw right behind one of the girls in charge of the party holding Leo, and your blood started boiling again. Charles was looking at you all confused, and you felt an itch to slap him.

“What ? What are you on about ? How ‘bout you come back inside, I think Leo misses you.” He chuckled, and you thought a full punch would probably be better than a slap.

“I don’t think your dog misses me.” The words felt like poison in your mouth, but you wanted him to get it. To understand how ridiculous this situation was getting. And why wouldn’t the girl put him down, he was clearly uncomfortable in her arms ? Why was no one taking it seriously ?

“Leo’s your dog, Y/N, I don’t get it…”

“Then give him back to me !” You screamed and the puppy yapped back, before jumping from the assistant’s arms, who shrieked and struggled to get him back. Too late, he had found your arms before she managed to pull the leash. “You should probably talk with your team, Charles.” He frowned at the use of his name, which almost always meant you were pissed. “Goodnight.”

As they finished filling their suitcases, you thought back on this evening, and that you probably should have shut your mouth. Following Lec’s launching party, what you hoped would be a wake up call for your lovers turned into something even worse. Charles was indeed called in for a talk with the PR team. And then Alex too. Your turn never came, and the more the days passed, the more it appeared your relationship was being taken over by management and marketing teams.

The following weeks had been a blur of unspoken tensions and meaningless routines. Breakfast alone, walking Leo only in the areas pre-approved to avoid pictures, going to work without him and coming home to new communication materials published with his face on it, work calls for your boyfriend stretching into the night, and your girlfriend going out so often it seemed her side of the bed was getting colder with each passing day. They both seemed to have undergone a sad transformation, their fiery and protective spirits dampened by forced compromises. Something told you they had been pushed to agree to the new directive, and yet you couldn’t help but stay mad at them. You understood Charles. The pressure he was under, the expectations of the whole team, the weight of his responsibilities. But Alexandra, you had known for too long. She had never been one to bow down and blindly agree to unfair decisions. She had loved you, through good and bad. She had promised you, together forever. And now she kept her hands by her side on the street and you wondered when her clothes had stopped smelling like you.

They kissed you goodbye, promised you mountains of gifts and a magnificent restaurant when they returned, but the door had not even closed when you fell crying to your knees. You had moved to the couch and slept there, your puppy watching over you, when your mother knocked on the door the following morning.

“Happy birthday darling !” She opened her arms and you ran in them, grabbing at your siblings behind her to get them in the hug too.

You had hoped to be out of tears by now, having spent the night reading articles speculating on why you were living with Formula 1 hottest couple -were you a distant relative ? A friend of Alex in need of a place to crash ?-, but the warm embrace of family members you hadn’t seen for months was enough to bring you back to the edge.

“Where are my favorite in-laws ?” She was beaming as she settled her belongings on the kitchen counter. “Oh that’s my baby grandson, come here baby !” She took Leo in her arms and you thought you had more time to breathe, but your younger brother tugged at your sleeve.

“Can Charlie take me on the boat ? I learned how to do a backflip at school and he can film me do it from the boat and then the others are gonna be so jealous and” You put your hand on his head and ruffled his hair softly.

“I’m sorry… Charles isn’t there. Alex too.” Your mother furrowed her brows and gave you a puzzled look. “Race weekend, and they were expected at an event they couldn’t cancel.” Your voice, barely above a whisper, was already shaking. You felt your tears ready to spill over, and gritted your teeth. “Last minute decision.”

Your brother only groaned and ran to the balcony to look at the port, already over it, but your mother came to hold your hand, and you exchanged a look of “we’ll talk about it later”.

Unfortunately, by the time you all came back from your evening out, and the kids were in bed, your mother was faced with the situation without leaving you any time to explain.

“Y/N, dear, come here please…” You sat next to her with two glasses of wine, and looked over her shoulder to her phone, where she had some celebrities gossip website open. “Is that the event they couldn’t cancel for your birthday ?” Her tone was cold, and you took at better look at the pictures.

A sunset movie-worthy, one of those that always brought tears to your eyes. A small table with candles and flowers on the beach, cocktails so colorful you could almost taste them from afar. Holding hands, looking at each other like the world had stopped, your lovers were apparently having the time of their life in a romantic restaurant, on your birthday evening. You took out your own phone. No messages.

The panic attack struck you without warning. Your heart had clenched all at once, and despite your mother’s attempt at laying you on your back, your muscles kept you rolled in a ball. You felt as if every breath was tearing apart your lungs, and could feel your heartbeat from your ears to the tip of your fingers. You could vaguely hear her talking to you, but it was as if a wall was standing between you, yet her touch felt very close, too close, as if her usually soft fingers were now burning your arms. Was it the end ? Was it how your great love story ended, alone on a Saturday night, crying so much you were drooling on the couch ? Your body was aching like never before, were you about to pass out ? To simply die ?

In the end you only managed to fall asleep after your mom calmed you down. You thought before closing your eyes that even your pain was disappointing.

You were helping your siblings pack up their bags when they came home, arms filled with packages. The little ones jumped to them, glad to have at least been able to say hello before leaving, but your mother stayed by your side, not even greeting them. She thanked them coldly for the gifts, and pushing the children towards the door, gave you a sympathetic look. She said she would always be there for you. She said you could come home if needed. But when Leo jumped on the couch and laid next to you, you knew no matter how painful it was, your home was here and there. You just needed time. You would figure it out, together. But not tonight. Tonight you just wanted out.

“Happy belated birthday, princesse.” Charles said tentatively, his voice tinged with uncertainty as he gestured to the mountain of gifts piled on the table. Alex sat by your side, but you got up before she could hold your hand.

“I don’t want your gifts. I want an apology. Think well about what you’ve done.” You kissed your puppy’s head and left the apartment immediately.

Almost running in the hallways and stairs, you got to his door panting. You knew he was back, they always made the journey together. So when he opened the door, clearly exhausted and surprised to see you, you broke down once again.

“I’m sorry Max… can I come in ?” He immediately closed the door behind you and called for his girlfriend, while his step daughter Penelope came to hug your legs. You collapsed on their sofa, shoulders shaking with silent sobs, unable to find the words to explain the depth of your pain. Kelly and Penelope tried to soothe you with soft voices and hugs, but Max only managed to pace the room, his jaw clenched in anger.

“What the hell happened ?” He had always been so sweet to you, so welcoming in this unfamiliar world. You felt bad for seeking comfort in his home after he had just came back. But the gates were opened, and while you cried, you still managed to make out a few words, enough for the couple to piece out the situation.

Penelope stayed close to you, hugging you with all the warmth a child could muster, while Kelly had been forced to stand in front of the door to prevent your friend from committing murder. They were now arguing silently, and you felt your eyes get heavier by the minute, strangely lulled to sleep by their hushed whispers. You had finally put words on what was happening, and the little girl’s cuddles had managed to calm you down to the point of dozing off.

“I think you should take her home.” Kelly murmured, still worried.

Max nodded in agreement, and he carefully scooped you in his arms, cradling you against his chest as he carried you back to your apartment. Charles was standing in the doorway, Alex pacing behind him, and both let him pass, faces etched with concern.

“You two stay right there.” Max’s voice was sharp, commanding not to argue. He laid you down in your bed, tucking the covers around you and stroking your hair until sleep finally claimed you. When he tried to leave the apartment, your two lovers were still standing by the door, begging to be heard.

“Max, please, what’s going on…” Alexandra tried to get close but he immediately took a step back, and pointed his finger at her.

“You had your chance to make things right by staying this weekend. You blew it up. Take your responsibilities.” He then turned to Charles, and almost spat to his face. “And you… I thought family was supposed to always come first. Maybe I was wrong.” His face was distorted with anger, and his knuckles white on the door handle. “You two have to man up for once in your fucking life. Either you tell Ferrari, and everyone who’s putting their noise in your business, to fuck off, or you loose her.”

With that, he slammed the door, leaving Charles and Alexandra with the consequences of their actions. They knew they had been fooled. Manipulated. Two nights ago, when the pictures of them had been taken, they were having one of the worst conversation possible. One they wanted to share with you as soon as possible, and in person, and not on your birthday. They were now wondering how they could do so without sounding like liars.

Would you trust them ? Believe Charles, when he would tell you the PR team had said you weren’t cut for fame, that the spotlights were obviously making you stressed, that you would be happier away from it all ? Believe Alex, when she would admit that they had threatened her with your boyfriend’s career, as well as your own, reminding her that she had never needed to work, and that if she loved the both of you, she should let professionals handle the situation ? Believe them, when they would say that’s what they talked about at the restaurant, and that their look of love was captured when they thought of you home, and wished you were with them ?

They weren’t sure. The thought that you could decide to end it all, and you would be smart to do so, frightened them. When they finally went to bed, hands shaking and eyes wet, each one cuddling by your side, hoping this night would not be the last, you did not even wake up.

“Still not forgiven ?” Max pushed Charles’ shoulder softly, half teasing him, half genuinely concerned for his friend, even though he hated to admit it. He had moved away from the group of men having a drink in the shared garden of their building, and had been staring at the moon for too long for someone in a good mood.

“I don’t know… She keeps saying everything is fine, but it’s clearly not. Even when we told her of our meetings, she was like… she agreed with them ?” Charles turned to his friend, disbelief written all over his face. “Said they knew what they were talking about, that it was for the best. Keeps walking behind us in the street, encourages us to go out just us two, even refuses to hold Leo when there are fans ! Her own dog, Max !” Charles felt the arm of the taller man lay on his shoulder, and he rested his head in the embrace, sighing.

As he was about to turn for a full hug, he heard Carlos whistle from the table, and Daniel signed at them to get back and away from the hedges.

“Paps.” The Aussie simply said when they got back, pointing a finger at the light of a camera through the bushes. “What a waste of money living here if they still manage to get in.” Max groaned and started to pick up the bottles, inciting everyone to go back inside.

“What a pain those fuckers…” He grumbled, clearly annoyed to not be able to enjoy his evening out with friends without the sound of camera shutters ruining everything. “What fucking interest is there to our lives, go get one of your own or something for god’s sake…” Everyone agreed but still followed him to one of the shared inside spaces, frustration hanging heavy in the air.

As they settled around the pool table, anecdotes about obsessive fans and annoying paparazzis were shared, but Charles’ mind was drifting elsewhere. An idea had begun to take root, a small glimmer of hope for his relationship, to maybe get back his girlfriend, before sadness had taken over most of her. He chugged down the rest of his drink, and called for the attention of his friends.

“What if… what if we used the paps ? What if I said fuck you to Ferrari without dealing with the legal issues ?” A spark appeared in their eyes, and in their last sober decision, they called Alexandra to come down, all agreeing she would be their voice of reason.

Oblivious to it all, you were reading in bed when the gathering happened, and would never know of it.

Only a few days later was the plan put into action. Charles’ idea of using actual paparazzis was turned down by Alex, who reminded the boys of the consequences on their careers if anyone found out who made the call. Despite his drunken arguments of being ready to fuck it all for his girls, soundly supported by his friends, she had found a much safer solution.

When you stepped on the huge balcony, you felt tears come to your eyes, happy ones, for the first time in weeks. Your lovers had crafted a perfect romantic dinner for you, straight out of a movie. The table was laid out for three, candles lit up and rose petals everywhere on the ground. A bottle of expensive champagne was chilling in a bucket of ice, waiting to be popped podium-style, and Leo was waiting by the door with a little bow tie on his collar. You had missed being just the three of you, no waitress, no management, no friends, just a homemade dinner and loving looks.

So when they took you in their arms, wrapping you in love and affection, peppering your skin with kisses and sweet compliments, you simply gave in without a care for anything else. You hugged and kissed until you had no breath left, and let them treat you, for you had deserved it.

Yet the whole time, unbeknownst to you, Daniel and Max had been stationed right under your balcony, hidden from view as they snapped pictures of the intimate scene unfolding. They did their best to capture every shared glance and affectionate touch, every kiss and hug that would make it impossible to deny the love shared between you. They had all warned paparazzis were roaming in the area the night before, which would make the whole thing even more believable for the PR teams. The secret mission was going to perfection, and when you retreated indoors with a seductive wink to your partners, Charles and Alexandra gave a subtle thumbs up to the boys to signal the end of the work for tonight.

As you awoke to the gentle rays of sunlight through the curtains you had not closed well last night, a sense of peace came over you for the first time in a while. Yesterday’s romantic dinner, and night, was still fresh in your mind and body, and you smiled when greeted with your lovers’ sleeping faces when you turned in the bed. Reaching as quietly as possible for your phone, your soft morning suddenly turned to hell as you saw hundreds of notifications and missed calls appear on the lock screen.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you scrolled them all. Missed calls from Ferrari. Messages from long lost friends. And obviously, dozens and dozens of pictures plastered across every gossip account related to Formula 1. It seemed an anonymous account had taken and posted pictures of your very private dinner during the night, and then disappeared, right after the pictures had been reposted everywhere.

With trembling hands, you turned to look at Charles and Alexandra, still sleeping peacefully by your side. Instead of finding solace in their presence, a wave of dread washed over you, the fear of losing everything you held dear threatening to consume you whole. Would this be the breaking point for them ? Would Ferrari ask you to move out ? Would they all lie, deny completely your existence ?

The sound of Leo’s plaintive cries echoed through the room, snapping your partners from their slumber. They came even closer to you, filled with concern as your breathing got more and more erratic, tears streaming down your face. They took turns kissing away your tears and whispering words of comfort until you managed to give them your phone, as well as theirs. You tried regulating your breathing as they scrolled, and sat down, expecting a tough conversation straight after.

Alex simply threw her phone away after not even two minutes of screen time, coming back to lay her head on your chest and faking purring. Charles sighed, and opened the camera of his phone. Had they asked him to make an apology video ? He turned the camera to Leo, and added his hand to where Alex’s fingers were already intertwined with yours. Snapping a pic of the small dog with your three hands next to him, he immediately posted it on his story on Instagram, which he had apparently gotten back the login details for, with the caption “Family 4️⃣❤️”.

“About time it was out officially, right love ?” Charles stroked your cheek lovingly while your girlfriend hummed in agreement, nuzzling closer to you. “I was thinking your red dress for the event next week, and we could get me a new suit but” He kept rambling on, his phone buzzing non stop on his side table, head in the crook of your neck. Too stunned to speak, you simply laid back in the bed and let him talk your ear off. It wasn’t over then ?

By the time of the next Lec event, you were sure it was far from over. Alex was holding your hand, and you had gotten matching nails the day before. Charles had insisted you were the only one to wear red tonight, and he kept you as close as physically possible, one hand always on your waist. The little pup struggled to find his place in all this affection, but you made sure to keep him in your arms whenever he needed comfort, and otherwise refused to give the leash to anyone else. When Charles’ agent came to warn you there would be trouble, Alex stepped in front of you with the look of defiance you had always loved, and simply told him “With all due respect, fuck off.” Charles shrugged, saying this wasn’t a Ferrari event anyway, and smiled as he took you two away.

You finally stood tall and proud, at peace and at home. The party was quite private, you were mostly surrounded by friends and well-wishers, and one in particular came to greet you with the biggest smile on his face.

“As pretty as ever querida !” Carlos took you in his arms, and gave a small pet to Leo’s head. He congratulated you, and gesturing to the PR team seemingly having a breakdown in the corner of a room, he chuckled. “The only thing I won’t miss at Ferrari is their shitty strategy.” He winked at you before going back to the buffet, not without a last word “It’s clear the only happy family they should advertise is you three, with how they’re looking at you.”

You turned back to meet their eyes. Charles raised his glass to you, and Alex’s smile was brighter than the neon lights. You felt filled with pride, love, a sense of validation like no other. You thought of your mother, of her warm embrace and comforting words. You hoped she would see the pictures of tonight. You hoped she knew you had a home away from home in them. And so you ran to them, and laughed until your cheeks hurt, and danced until the lights went out, and promised to love until the very last star in the sky burnt out.

[lisired]

dead men tell no tales

pairing: johnny x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, angst, gun usage, descriptions of death and violence

summary: five years ago, you were part of a unit assigned to eliminate the head rival of a crime syndicate. the plan backfired miserably. ever since you have been laying low, but then your former boss calls you with alarming news.

word count: 23k

a/n: part 1/3 of my wanted: dead or alive series. as always, feedback is appreciated!

Maybe it was only your paranoid instincts, but from the minute you woke up, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something about today was very, very off. 

Though to be fair, you always had that feeling. Nowhere was too safe. You were constantly glimpsing over your shoulder and bouncing across the globe to evade potential predators that wanted to stain the walls with your blood. Your mind was always screaming. 

Until you met Johnny, that is. There was something about him that put you at ease from the moment you met eight months ago at a hotel poolside. He was just so damn easygoing and chill. The world could be burning and Johnny would still find a way to make you laugh, as if nothing was ever wrong.  

He was an American nomad, bred of admirable spontaneity, which gave you the perfect excuse to wander without him asking any important questions. Johnny spent months courting you relentlessly and whisking you away on trips all over the world. But it wasn’t his money that drew you to him. You were more interested in his uncanny ability to subdue the monsters in your head. 

You didn’t know how or why, but the cacophony of screams died when you were with Johnny. The reckless, heaving water became gentle waves crashing against the shoreline. 

Now here you were, in some lavish hotel in Monaco with the entire Mediterranean sea right outside your balcony, and you had never been happier. Your whole relationship with Johnny consisted of taking vast trips together. He wasn’t in any rush to settle down and you didn’t have that privilege, though you’d made it abundantly clear you were committed to each other. 

Johnny didn’t want to come on too strong. Getting to know one another was a slow and steady process, given that neither of you were none too forthcoming, but Johnny was adamant on learning all there was to know about you. And to your surprise, he had been moderately successful. 

But there was one tiny secret you never let slip. 

Johnny was snuggling up to you like a baby bear, which was ironic considering the sheer size of him, and it was the cutest thing ever. “I love traveling the world with you,” he mumbled into your neck. 

“One day, it’ll be ours,” you replied, grinning from ear to ear. 

“I don’t want it. I’d give it all to you.”

You snorted and joked, “And let me be solely responsible for all of its ugly? No thank you. I’d prefer we share custody.”

Johnny laughed. Before he could come up with another response, there was a knock at the door of your luxury suite. You glanced towards him, startled. “Did you invite company?” you asked. 

“No, but I did tell my boss where he could find me if anything important came up at work,” Johnny said quietly, apparently as confused as you were. “I’ll get the door.”

You didn’t want to let him go. Most of your life had been spent in shady hotels and you never answered an unknown visitor without a gun. Your survival instincts flared up again, but it wasn’t only yourself that you feared for now. Sometimes you wondered if you were selfishly putting him at risk. 

Any friend of yours was an enemy of your enemies. You had seen them come and go, temporary like everything else in your life, but Johnny was different. You wanted him to stay. 

Almost immediately after Johnny stood to answer the door, tugging his shirt back over his head, your phone began ringing on the nightstand. You recognized the contact and pressed the phone to your ear. “Hey, Doie. What’s up?”

“Are you around anyone?”

Between the curtness of his question and the sharpness in his tone, you couldn’t decide which baffled you more. “Yes. Why?”

“Keep your face straight and your voice level,” Doyoung said sternly. “Can you get away from them?”

You glanced up at Johnny. He’d returned from the door by now with an envelope in hand, watching you with furrowed brows. “Yes.”

“Do it now.”

With a few seconds delay so as to not raise too much suspicion, you rose from the bed and mouthed to Johnny, “Business stuff.” Then you excused yourself to the balcony. 

Johnny nodded in understanding. 

When the balcony door was shut behind you, you spoke up again. “I did what you asked, but I’m at a hotel. He’s nearby.”

“I know,” was all Doyoung said. 

That did nothing but strengthen your bewilderment. “What do you mean by you know?”

Doyoung cut to the chase. He sounded perturbed. “Listen to me very carefully. Margo was killed this morning.”

You gawked. “What?”

“Single shot to the back of the neck. Close distance. No sniper.”

Despite the humid weather outside, the most aggressive shudder shot down your spine. “We can’t be certain that has anything to do with us,” you said, but it was obvious you hadn’t even convinced yourself. 

“I’m certain.”

The balcony door opened and you jolted, but tried to regain your composure when you realized it was only Johnny. “My bad,” he said, raising his hands. “I’m getting my letter opener.”

You nodded, smiling thinly at him. There was no way in hell you wanted to give away the nature of the phone call you were currently having. “How come?”

Doyoung explained, “Sol was killed two weeks ago. He opened a laced letter. Invisible powder. Nobody knew until today because they assumed he was on vacation. You know how he likes to go off-grid. He never even saw it coming.”

“Fuck,” you grumbled under your breath, although Johnny had already slipped back inside as quickly as he’d come. 

“Dispose of your cellphone as soon as possible,” Doyoung instructed, naturally falling back into his position as your supervisor. “Do you remember the location?”

Glancing around, you searched for signs of suspicious activity. It felt like you were being watched. You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Of course.”

“Get a burner and message me from that number when you get close. This phone will still be active. I’ll meet you there. Do you copy?”

“Yes,” you said, chilled by that tone. You hadn’t heard it in five years. Not since your last mission together. 

Doyoung hung up. He was curt and to the point like that. When danger was imminent, there was no time to waste on niceties. This was not your friend Doyoung you’d come to know, but the cold leader of a formidable undercover unit. 

Then a thought came to your mind and you rushed back inside the hotel room, immediately finding Johnny and frantically asking, “Did you open the envelope?”

Johnny’s eyes flickered. “No, but I was about to. Why?”

“Don’t touch it. Please.”

Johnny obliged, but he was catching on. “You’re acting weird. What’s going on?”

Rather than answer, you paraded over to your nightstand and retrieved a gun from beneath a stack of magazines in the drawer. Maybe you were considerably less paranoid than before, but you weren’t a dumbass. You still had enemies that would pay a pretty penny to have your head on a stick. 

Johnny gawked at the weapon in your hand, presumably loaded. “Baby, what the hell?”

“So, change of plans,” you started, grabbing your suitcase and hurling it onto the bed, and began to toss your belongings inside. There weren’t many. This life had taunted you never to pack more than what you needed. “We’re going to the United States.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s happening,” Johnny replied sternly, coming to your side. “Why do you have a gun?”

A sigh escaped your lips and your eyes winced closed. This was the day you had always feared; the one where the time would come for your darkness to come to light. Johnny admired you for the pretty little image of yourself you’d painted in front of him. You weren’t ready for him to see you for who you really were. 

What you really were. 

Johnny pressed his forehead against yours, sensing the distress bubbling within you. He was tender and loving, even in a moment like this. Something more than you deserved. “Look at me.”

You obliged him. Without hesitation. No one thought it would be possible to tame you, but here you were, willingly submitting to a man. Hell must have frozen over. 

Johnny brushed a hand through your hair gingerly, not wanting to startle you away, like you were some new animal adjusting to a stranger. “I don’t know what you might’ve done and what you might’ve seen, but none of that matters to me. I care about you. That will never change,” he told you in a whisper. 

God, you wanted to believe him. It would have made things easier, being able to confide in him about all of the haunting horrors. You shook your head, overpowering your own tears. “Johnny, you don’t understand. I’ve done unforgivable things.”

Johnny’s voice was saccharine. “Then make me understand. Help me help you.”

“I wish it was that easy,” you mumbled, pulling away. You had to finish packing and relocate right now. 

Your stubbornness was nothing new to Johnny, but that didn’t make it any less inconvenient. That said, he could sense the urgency of whatever predicament you had somehow landed yourself in, and started grabbing his things. He sighed, relenting. “How soon do we need to be in the United States?”

“As soon as possible.”

“I know a guy that knows a guy who has a jet,” Johnny told you, quickly folding something to toss into his suitcase. “He can get us there in half a day, maybe less.”

You paused in your tracks, considering your options. There was this unspoken arrangement about your relationship with Johnny. Your inexplicable connections that conveniently helped you out of each other’s dilemmas. But you never pressed him about it, because you couldn’t afford him asking you questions either. 

Out of curiosity’s sake, you asked, “What’s his name?”

“Jaehyun.”

That name rang no bells, but you would’ve been more alarmed if you even vaguely recognized it. “Okay. Call him, but be quick about it.” The people hunting me waste no time. 

Johnny did as told, swiftly taking his phone out of his pocket and heading into the bathroom to make a call. 

With the last of your things zipped away in your suitcase, you had no choice but to sit there waiting for something to happen, which was not your favorite hobby ever. There were stories, in the underworld, of snipers that could stay awake for days waiting on the perfect opportunity to eliminate their subs. 

Johnny crossed your mind again and you shuddered, worries heightening. You glanced over at the letter. It had been addressed to him, not you, however, that only made you assume your hunters had something worse in store for you. Something darker. 

Though on the other hand, it made you hyper aware of the darkness you had sucked Johnny into solely by associating with him. Your boyfriend was now a liability, exactly as you’d feared, but you refused to leave him to fend for himself. They had made plain that they knew what he was worth to you and you’d be damned if you let him die for the sake of your survival. 

The assassins tracking down your unit like prey weren’t bunglers and there was no doubt that they’d be coming after you next. You had spent months studying the intricacies of the assignment and attempting to comprehend their behavior. Every breakthrough brought you closer to confirming the identity of the leader until it was all suddenly over. 

Someone snitched. You still didn’t know who for certain, but you doubted they were a member of the original seven proxies assigned to the unit. Four of them were dead. There were only three of you left, as far as you knew. 

Thus you did everything in your power to lay low and make yourself even more elusive. You were ever on the move, denying yourself the freedom that came with becoming too comfortable. Then, you met Johnny this year in February, on a mission in Long Beach. He had been a normal guy at some fancy hotel, never meant to be more than one night of drunken fun. So you were pleasantly surprised when one night became eight months. 

And even more so when you subsequently forfeited your career. You hadn’t fully recovered from that life and you doubted you ever would, but Johnny made it easier to live with your unjustifiable mistakes. He saw something in you that no one else did. Not even yourself. 

If only you knew what. 

Johnny emerged from the bathroom, the sound of the door opening drawing your attention to him. “Good news,” he started, heading for the bed. “He’s available. It should be ready for us when we get there.”

“Then let’s not waste any time,” you said, tucking away your gun. 

If Johnny had any more questions, and you knew full well he did, he still didn’t ask. 

Like Johnny had said, the private jet was waiting for the two of you when you arrived and you hurriedly climbed aboard. They knew where you were. Why they hadn’t taken you out when they had the chance was a mystery, but you decided to count your blessings. You were (for now) still alive and that was all that mattered. 

You tried to get some sleep, given that you would be up and flying for a good minute, but to no avail. You usually found plane rides oddly peaceful, but there were a million thoughts in your mind vying for your attention all at once. It was all you could do not to think about your hidden career. 

It had its perks, the coin stained in other people’s blood, and the companionship of a few of the friends you’d met along the way, but most people in the underworld were not exactly affable and there was always a fear in the back of your mind that one day it would be you who died for the gain of another. 

Johnny laced his fingers through yours and you glanced over at him. “Talk to me,” he murmured, sweet as ever.  

You shook your head. You had met many perceptive people in your lifetime, but Johnny took the cake. “I can’t.”

“Of course you can,” Johnny said, reaching for your other hand and also taking it in his. “You can talk to me about anything.”

You glimpsed down at your intertwined hands, then back up at his deep brown eyes. They were too damn discerning. “There’s something about me you don’t know.”

Johnny said nothing, but those words made him raise a brow. He was silently gesturing for you to continue, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. 

God dammit, was he trying to disarm you? Because it was working. You hated how easy it was for him to render you vulnerable. You - the most formidable of proxies this generation had ever known. 

The thought made you laugh, which Johnny obviously wasn’t expecting. You shook your head and explained, “I’m shocked you haven’t left me. Most people would have wanted no parts the second they saw the strap.”

“Can I hold it?”

You burst into laughter again. Like hell. “You want me to give you a loaded weapon? I don’t know what you know. That’s like giving a bomb to a baby.”

Johnny chuckled, but he sobered almost immediately after, loosely draping an arm over your shoulder. “Hey, for the record, it’s gonna take a lot more than a gun to make me wanna leave you. I’m crazy about you,” he confessed, whispering. “And the way I see it, you’re a little crazy all on your own.”

You grinned, appreciating the way he could say something serious and make you giggle in the same minute. “Maybe I am.” 

“By the way,” Johnny began gingerly, as if one wrong move would startle you away. Which wasn’t too far off. “Why didn’t you want me to touch that letter earlier?”

The amusement quickly fell from your lips and the change was not lost on Johnny. The space around you was virtually silent till you willed yourself to murmur, “I think it was laced.”

Johnny blinked in shock. “Laced? Like that Amerithrax shit?”

You shrugged. “Something like that. I don’t think it’s anthrax, but whatever it is, it’s just as deadly. Killed someone I know just from opening it. I got the call about his death this morning.”

“Damn, baby,” Johnny said with a wince, taken aback. “What did he do to deserve that?”

“It’s a long story,” you mumbled under your breath.

It was obvious you didn’t intend on elaborating any further than you already had and Johnny didn’t press, especially became a more jarring thought came. “But the letter was addressed to me,” he pointed out, clearly confused. “Not to you.”

“I know. They don’t want to kill me off immediately, for whatever reason.” 

“That means you’re special, I guess.” 

A chill shot down your spine. You already knew, but him saying it aloud made it true. For some inexplicable reason, they wanted to play the long game with you by watching you suffer. 

“I’m sleepy,” you said. A lie, but a convenient one. You wanted to be alone in your thoughts a little longer. “I think I’ll rest my eyes.”

Johnny chuckled. “For only a few seconds, I’m guessing?”

Your voice was dripping with sarcasm. “How did you know?”

“Lucky guess,” Johnny whispered, pressing a quick, sweet kiss to the temple of your forehead. “Goodnight, beautiful.”

“Night, Johnny,” you murmured.

After a few moments of thinking of the unthinkable future, you eventually tormented yourself to sleep, waking up some hours later with your head on Johnny’s shoulder. You wholeheartedly blamed him. He was holding your hand delicately, caressing the back of it the entire time. Almost like he knew you needed it. 

You weren’t as relieved as you thought you would be when you touched down in the United States. Ironically, you felt less exposed to danger thousands of feet above the ocean than you did on American soil. Johnny was turning you soft. You’d rather be somewhere in his arms. 

The safe house you would be holing up in until further notice was given to you by one of your trusted American contacts. It wasn’t particularly easy to find, which was a nuisance for you today, but something you would undoubtedly be grateful for later on. The place was a far cry from luxurious, but it was low-key, and that was enough to keep you happy. 

“Ah. Feels just like home,” Johnny said with a bucket load of sarcasm.

Dragging your luggage inside, your shoulders shook as you laughed. “I’ve gotta make a call.” Then, you nudged his side gently and quipped, “Be a good boy and don’t talk to any strangers while I’m gone.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Johnny chirped obediently. 

You entered the kitchen. It was small, cramped. Not that you would be doing much eating when you were stressed like this. You grabbed the burner phone you’d picked up on the way and dialed a number from memory, hoping you wouldn’t be too late. 

The phone rang for a while. You almost thought that nobody would answer, for a multitude of reasons, until you finally heard a chary, “Who’s this?”

“Mark.” You sighed in relief. “Thank god. It’s me. Are you holding up okay?”

“So you got that call too, huh?” Mark asked, though it was obvious. You had no other reason to be calling. You didn’t mean to be distant, but it was not often you reached out to your former co-workers. 

But it was still good to hear his voice. With two of your other co-workers gone one week after the other, it was clear they were hunting each of you down one by one. “I got it last night,” you replied, exhaling through your nose. “This morning, technically. Monaco is seven hours ahead of Illinois.”

You could hear movement in the background, like he was actively packing his things with his ear pressed to his shoulder. “Yeah, I’m leaving Canada. I should get over there in a couple of hours. I was actually just about to toss this phone. You have great timing.”

That surprised you. Mark was the opposite of you, feeling safer in one place that felt like home rather than never getting too comfortable anywhere. “You’re not staying in Toronto? You haven’t left in years.”

“They killed my sister,” Mark hissed. You could hear the hurt in his voice, the bite in his tone. He was who you were worried about most. “I know that I’m probably being led into a kill box, but I can’t just stay here. I’ll put a bullet in her killer’s head myself by the time this shit blows over.”

“Mark,” you started, but you knew there was no use. 

Mark said your name sternly. “I already made up my mind. I’m on my way. I should be seeing you and Doyoung later.”

You blew out a breath. “Okay. Get here safe. Please.”

“I will,” he said reassuringly. “Be as careful as you can, okay? I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay. Bye.”

“Wait.”

You were just about to hang up when he spoke those words in the nick of time. “Yes?”

Mark’s tone was accustory, “Your boytoy’s with you. Isn’t he?”

You stifled a sigh. There it was, the cons of being buddies with proxies as good at their jobs as you were. “He’s at risk. They sent him the envelope. Not me. They will hurt him to get to me.”

“Maybe,” Mark said, obviously none too convinced by that possibility. “Or maybe it’s a setup. You could be his sub.”

Glancing around the area to make sure Johnny was out of earshot, you whispered, “Mark, I’ve given my life to this field and the sick people infesting it. He’s as normal as they get.”

“Is he?”

“Mark,” you snapped. 

Mark let it die. “Fine. But you better be in one piece next time I see you, or it’s him I’m going after.”

Well, there was no use in arguing with him when he used that tone. It firmly indicated that he meant business. “Don’t worry,” you said softly, glimpsing around again. “Bye, Mark.”

When the call was over, you slipped the burner into your pocket and braced yourself for your next task. You had to make sure this place was secure enough to hold you for the upcoming nights. 

Nine years in the industry had taught you that there was no such thing as being too safe and it was always in your best interest to be virtually untraceable. You double checked every window, making sure they were all locked. You also clocked a number of potential exits and noted all of your options. 

It was borderline impossible to rest knowing that your life was at stake, and you damn sure wouldn’t make yourself an easy kill. If somebody really wanted you dead, they had their work cut out for them. You had spent too much time building up your power to let it be snatched out of your hands without a fight. 

With the house taken care of, you could breathe a little easier in relief. You took out the burner and typed in the number you had memorized. In the city. I’m ready whenever you are. 

Delivered. No matter how much you hated it, you felt like a sitting duck amongst sharp-toothed sharks. 

“Had enough?” Johnny asked, poking his head around the corner. He’d seen you checking out the windows. 

You’d heard his footsteps, knowing he was coming. It might have come off as excessively paranoid, or obsessively so, but you were a listener, and recognizing the distinct sounds of someone’s steps had saved your life. More than once. “Yeah, I think so. Just had to make sure the safe house is really safe.”

Johnny chortled, fully entering the living room now, and walked over to sit beside you. “We’re in the middle of only God knows where. I think we’ll be pretty okay, baby.”

“I sure hope so,” you muttered. 

Johnny cocked his head. “You said there’s something about you that I don’t know, but you never told me what.”

And that was how it would stay. At least for now. The phone call with Mark reminded you of what was at stake and you had to remember that everyone was a suspect. “I didn’t?”

“You don’t have to tell me if you really don’t want to,” Johnny assured you gently, resting a hand on your back. “But I want you to remember that this is bigger than you. Assuming whoever is after you knows about us, my life is at stake too. Not only yours.”

Something bitter scorched its way down your throat. He wasn’t exactly wrong. It was a conclusion you had already come to, but that didn’t mean you weren’t opposed. The fact that someone had attempted to take him out angered you to no end. “I know that. And I’ll come clean. But not right now.”

Those words brooked no argument, and knowing your tendency to keep things close to your chest, Johnny asked instead, “When do we move out?”

You stretched your arms above your head, hoping to shake the tense feeling within you in spite of knowing it had nothing to do with your muscles. “The minute I get the call. I let my former supervisor know that we landed. He’s not exactly the sociable type, but he’ll let me know when we’re clear.”

“You two must get along great then,” Johnny quipped. 

You rolled your eyes, recognizing his attempts at humor, but softened. “Listen, Johnny. I’m sorry I got you dragged into this mess. I never meant for you to see this part of me, but my past is coming back to bite me in the ass.”

Johnny’s brows knitted together. “Are you an assassin or something?”

“Yes, and that’s all you need to know right now,” you said, crossing your legs on the chair.

Silence prevailed for a brief moment and you were worried you had reasonably startled Johnny, but you were surprised when he said, “Not gonna lie, that’s pretty daunting news, but I don’t give a fuck what you are, baby.”

Those were the last words you expected to come out of his mouth and you couldn’t decide if they were alarmed or comforting. “Are you sure?”

“Whatever you’ve done, I’m sure you had your reasons,” Johnny said, pulling you into his brawny arms. Not afraid of you. “I already told you, there’s nothing in this world that could change how I feel about you. I love you.”

Every muscle in your body went rigid. Although you had been dating for almost a whole year, you and Johnny had never muttered those three words until now. And it had been even longer since you’d heard them. 

Your face was stiff and you didn’t make a move, but somehow Johnny could sense the panic within you. He had always been good at seeing plain through the walls you put up to protect yourself. “You don’t have to say it back, but I wanted you to know.”

That confused you to no end. “You don’t at least want to know if I love you back?”

Johnny sounded amused, which was the last reaction you were expecting. “I already know. It’s in everything you do. If you didn’t love me, you would have wordlessly left me in Monaco to die,” he said, gathering some of your hair in his hands and brushing it out of the way. “But I want you to say it when you’re ready and not a second before.”

You nodded, trying to play off the fact that your heart was beating quicker. How did he always just know? 

Johnny moved his hand to your cheek, his touch featherlight, and continued, “I know something nightmarish is happening and you probably feel like the whole world is out to get you. Do whatever you think is right. Trust your gut and nothing else. Not your supervisor, not your friends. Not even me.”

You stared into Johnny’s eyes when he pulled back. They were deep and brown and hypnotic, pulling you clean under his spell in one fatal swoop. Like you were holding a gun and he was whispering in your ear for you to pull the trigger. 

It was dangerous to love somebody to that extent and you knew it, but you were past the point of no return. Johnny was your one weakness, the only thing that could blind you. Your enemies were smart in targeting him first, but foolish to think you would let them take him away from you so easily. 

With his hand still on your cheek, Johnny flirted, “May I ask you to lower your guard for a few moments while I kiss you, or am I asking for too much?”

“It’s okay,” you replied, rolling your eyes in mock annoyance. “You can kiss me.”

Johnny beamed in excitement. When his lips crashed against yours, you remembered why you were even here with him in the first place. Your body relaxed in his arms, knowing it was safe there, shielded from all the dangers of your twisted world. Johnny knew exactly how to disarm you, lowering all your many defenses. 

His mouth fell downwards onto your throat and you knew what he was doing, but you couldn’t be bothered to stop him. You needed the relief and the place was secure enough. What was a little bonding time between two lovers? 

“Mind if I take this to the bedroom?” Johnny asked, slipping a hand up your blouse. 

You nodded, biting your lip. 

Johnny effortlessly hoisted you into his burly arms and carried you into the bedroom, tossing you onto the bed. You giggled as he crawled over you, threading your fingers through his dark hair to pull his mouth back onto yours. There was no delaying the soft sighs you made as Johnny felt up your body. 

The two of you stayed there like that together for the longest time, your hands falling onto his broad shoulders and his grabbing a handful of your boobs. More often than not, sex was a game of patience. You were both stubborn in your own way, scheming to utterly ravage each other. 

For some reason, Johnny was an expert at both dominating and manipulating your body, and for some even weirder reason, you let him. He always seemed to intuitively know what you needed and how you needed it. No one understood you like that. Johnny was the first human being you had let get close enough to wield that kind of power over you, and it was equally as sexy as it was unnerving. 

You shuddered at the feeling of his big hands as they advanced down your thighs. They were so cold sometimes. Back when you first got together and holding hands gave you the most outrageous butterflies, you used to tease that he was like a snake or something. 

In the heat of your kisses, shirts were thrown and pants were tossed. You gawked at the sight of Johnny’s toned abs even though you had already seen them a thousand times before. He preferred to travel to countries with plenty of sunshine and hot sand. Naturally, you’d seen him shirtless in a year more than you’d seen your mother. 

“Fuck me,” you moaned, simmering with yearning. Your hands wandered down his burly chest.

When they finally reached the navy blue shorts you couldn’t for the life of you figure out why he was still wearing, you grabbed a fistful of Johnny’s half-hard cock, and he tensed with the same thought. Johnny may have prided himself on his extreme willpower and self-control, but you knew a thing or three about ruining men, and you were damn good at it. 

It was obvious you were up to no good. You met Johnny’s stare as you pumped his cock stiff in your hands, watching him falter. He was melting right there between your fingers. If only he was fully naked. You would have been trailing kisses down the base of his cock. 

You smirked when you heard him groan your name under his breath. That long thread of patience was unraveling. There was this battle between the two of you, taking turns sending each other into oblivion. The thing about you and Johnny was that sex started long before any clothes came off. 

Johnny swatted your hand away. Gently, of course. “Okay,” he said in that firm tone that meant he’d had enough. 

You couldn’t resist a satisfied grin. There was nothing like making a masculine man like himself lose control. 

Johnny took the lead, sticking a hand between your legs, which you voluntarily widened for him without having to be told. He liked how submissive you became when in bed with him and chuckled faintly to himself, teasing his hand over the damp spot in your panties, and tempted to toy with you until you soaked through both sides. 

It wasn’t that Johnny was very patient. You had the upper hand in that regard. But what he lacked in patience he made up for in obstinacy, which you both had an ample amount of, and made things all the more exhilarating.

You were sighing softly underneath him, your body gently arching into his touch as you felt yourself burn from the sheer proximity of his body to yours alone, and Johnny appreciated every second. There was a certain pleasure he got out of making you crack. You were tough and composed, something you prided yourself on, but something about breaking you felt like getting a small taste of your inner chaos. 

A glimpse behind the forbidden door. 

“Johnny,” you called out, trying not to sound whiny. 

It didn’t help. Johnny could still read your body language flawlessly. He stifled a smirk, playing dumb. “Hm?”

You scowled at him. Not out of any genuine anger, of course. Though maybe a hint of frustration. You knew he was baiting you to the point of begging, wanting to satiate his ever hungry ego. 

“Don’t you think it would be nice of you to do something?” you asked. 

“I am doing something,” Johnny replied as if he was totally clueless to what you wanted. “I’m touching you, aren’t I?”

“Yes, you are. And it’s very generous of you to do that,” you said with a hint of sarcasm. “But maybe you could consider going the extra mile.”

“The extra mile? Oh, you mean, like, this?”

Johnny dipped a hand underneath the waistband of your underwear and your lips parted in a shaky gasp as you braced his shoulders again, instantly squirming. Your legs reflexively closed on him, but Johnny didn’t even blink, merely spreading them wide again with his free hand as he listened for the sweet sound of your pleasure. 

“Am I right on the money?” he asked knowingly, finally letting that sly grin come out to play. 

He was right on something. It may not have been money, but you could feel his thumb on your clit and it was making you shudder. You nodded, your whole body feeling electric. Your toes curled and your hands dropped, balling into fists on the sheets.

You could feel how hard he was as he leaned over you, his body damn near flush against yours, tauntingly close. The very hard bulge in his shorts was all you could feel in your thigh. Johnny ignored it. Which was getting increasingly harder the more he watched you whimper and tense with need, aching to be filled, but he wanted to play a little more. 

Johnny decided to go another mile and slid a pair of long, thick digits inside your heat with no resistance from your body. You sucked him in, wet and ready, and Johnny watched the tension on your face elevate. 

Your entire body was begging you to stop being stubborn and give in to Johnny’s demands if it meant he would do something to cease the endless throbbing in your core, but as good as his fingers felt in you and even better you knew his dick would feel, you didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. Though it certainly wasn’t more than what he deserved. 

“You asshole,” you said, torn between your desires. 

Johnny flinched, but smiled at your sudden outburst. “What I do now?”

You pretended to be angry, grumbling, “Making me want you. Fuck. You’re a piece of shit. I hate you.”

Johnny chuckled. He knew you didn’t mean a single word. You just didn’t want to admit that you needed him, even though everything in how your body was responding to his touches said more than enough. “You won’t be saying that when I fuck you,” he replied confidently. 

“And when exactly will that be?”

“When I feel like it.”

You rolled your eyes. He could be so damn annoying. There was only room for one stubborn bitch in this relationship. You pointed out, “You’re hard.”

“So?”

You narrowed your eyes. “So, don’t you feel like it right now?”

“Nope,” Johnny replied with feigned indifference, pushing his fingers in and out of you and watching how you accepted them desperately. The whole thing made him wish it was his cock in you instead. 

You didn’t buy that at all. Johnny wasn’t invincible, no matter how hard he tried. And his horniness was through the roof. “Johnny, fuck me.”

Johnny thought you bossing him around, or at least attempting to, was funny. “Say please.”

“Johnny, fuck me. Please,” you grumbled. 

“Now was that so hard?” he asked, looking relatively pleased. 

You didn’t get the chance to answer, because before you knew it, Johnny withdrew his digits from your sopping hole and stepped out of his shorts. He slipped your panties to the side and lined himself up with your entrance, his eyes on your cunt the entire time as he watched his cock steadily disappear inside. 

Johnny’s hands clamped tightly onto your thighs as he sank deeper, tipping his head back with a moan at the hot, tight sensation of your pussy gushing around his cock. He tried to will himself to go slow, not wanting to overwhelm you with too much, but the way you were throbbing was testing his patience. And his restraint. 

You were out of breath and he had hardly even done anything so far. The size of him never failed to knock the wind of you. It didn’t matter how many times you fucked, or how much he prepared you, Johnny still managed to taunt your limits. 

“Jesus. Fuck,” you exhaled, craving his warmth and wanting to escape him in equal measure. Your hands grappled for something, anything, to ground yourself. When Johnny took you, he took you somewhere far, far away from earth. 

Johnny would have been worried, if not for the fact that you had wound your legs snugly around his waist, forcing him deeper. He smirked. “Can I move, baby?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Move.”

Johnny groaned as he started to push in and out of you, dragging his thick cock through your walls. He never got used to this either. Maybe it was only in his mind, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that you got tighter the more he fucked you. Wetter the more he stretched you out. 

No one had ever made you feel this way before. You’d had meaningless sex a dozen times and then some, but this was something much different. There was so much passion seeping from your bodies and it made the ecstasy skyrocket tenfold. So much love, dare you say. 

But the control Johnny had over your body was your favorite part by far. The orgasms brought by his will were the most powerful you’d ever had. They felt like you were releasing a dark part of you that had quietly attached itself to your soul. Johnny was good at showing you that if you let him take the lead, if you let go, he could bring you to elysian heights. 

You thought for certain you were bound for hell, but damn, Johnny made you see heaven. And now that you knew what heaven felt like, you didn’t want to consider any other option. 

Johnny could see it on your face. He always could. In the bedroom, at least. Out there, you could be cold and inscrutable, but when he was bringing you to your peak, there was no part of you that he didn’t see. “Still hate me?” he asked teasingly. 

“No,” you stammered out. You wanted to say you loved him, the words were right there on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t. 

“Shh, it’s okay, baby. Don’t say anything,” Johnny whispered, pressing sweet kisses along your throat and collarbone. “Just take me.”

You relaxed in his arms, succumbing to the building pressure in your core as Johnny took and took from your body, speeding up his steady rhythm. You loved when he did that. Though you knew Johnny valued your pleasure deeply, there was something about when he availed you, of how he bled you dry.

Johnny knew you would let him if he asked. You would let him do anything he wanted if it meant he’d be satisfied in the end. It was his reward for loving you without conditions. You were his beautiful, sick little lion that he’d tamed.

“You’re perfect for me. You know that?” Johnny asked a little breathlessly. “All for me.”

“Oh my god,” you whimpered, grabbing Johnny’s hair and pulling him down to you. His chest was flush against yours and you could feel the sweat of his body mingling with your own and the vicious thud of his heart as he moved. 

You found his lips and kissed him hungrily, too hooked on passion to care about kissing him perfectly. The desperation in your touches only made Johnny want you more. He matched your energy and met his lips to yours with the same amount of fervor, if not crazier. You heard him groan and the sound did everything to turn you on. 

There was no denying his fire for you and you appreciated every single bit. His skin burned, hot and sticky with a glistening sheen of dampness. Johnny was just as insane for and about you as you were over him, his body said so. Though it helped that he wasn’t shy with his words. 

Johnny brought one hand between your legs and the other to your throat that was stained in marks leftover from his kisses. You were already weak and he knew exactly how to make you even weaker. You gasped when you realized what he was doing, looking into his eyes and finding nothing but a darkness that said he wanted to ravage you. It made you tighten. 

You felt something in your stomach tighten when you saw Johnny’s face change, tensing with the wound of pleasure. He mumbled curses under his breath in a voice that made you shudder. You knew then that you weren’t far. He was going to finish you. 

“Johnny, I’m close,” you told him through heavy pants. 

Johnny tightened his grip on you, moving his hand faster over your clit. He chuckled when you moaned. “Yeah, you wanna come? Tell me how bad you need it.”

“God, Johnny. Please,” you begged, knowing he wanted to gauge how much he turned you on, how good he pressed your buttons. “I need to come. I need you. I can’t hold it. You feel too good. Oh my fuck.”

“Then go ahead. Let go for me, baby,” Johnny commanded darkly, watching you expectantly. He knew you were about to fall apart any moment now. 

And you did. Your orgasm took hold of you and slammed you down onto the surface, and you felt the impact in every bone of your body. But rather than a dull ache, it was a heady euphoria. Johnny was there to sweep you into his arms, whispering sweet nothings as he coaxed you through every second like a gentleman.

He tried to act like the way you clamped around him and cursed out his name when you trembled with climax wasn’t getting to him, but Johnny was starting to melt into your heat and he couldn’t help how much getting you off got him off. It was too natural. He looked down at you proudly, taking in the sight of you laying there, trying to collect yourself. 

You tried to take it as he continued to pound you out, trying to make himself come now than he had taken care of you, but it was making your head spin. “Johnny,” you whined. 

Johnny raised a brow, playing innocent. “What? I didn’t say I was done with you. Now did I?” 

You swallowed sharply. This wasn’t the first time he had fucked you through your orgasm and then some, but he was damn good at making it feel like it was. 

“You tapping out on me?” Johnny taunted, knowing it would do the trick. You always had something to prove. 

You shook your head. It was too much for you, but that was exactly the point. You let Johnny decide how much you could handle. He was the one in charge, like it or not. “No. Never.”

“Good,” Johnny chirped, satisfied. “You know what to say if you change your mind.”

You had a safe word, but you remembered using it only once. The word lingered in your mind but didn’t dare escape your lips. You didn’t want him to stop. You wanted him to take you until there was nothing left. And then take some more. 

Your silence was loud as ever and Johnny grinned, knowing he had you exactly where he wanted you. He continued to have his way with you, his hands gentle as they wandered your entire body, but his hips slapping against yours with a vengeance as he tried to drive himself over the edge. 

It wouldn’t be long. Johnny wanted to keep fucking you forever, die tangled together limb to limb, but with every hit through your slick walls he felt his grip on his restraint slack. You were breaking him down, piece by piece.

You couldn’t think straight. You could barely even see, your vision hazy with the faint sting of tears in your eyes. Johnny had once told you that there was a thin line between pain and pleasure and now he was taking you there. He delicately kissed your face and chest all over as he overstimulated you, making you teeter. 

“Johnny, come,” you whispered, coaxing him to finish while still playing meek. “I want you to fuck me full. Please. Oh my god.”

Johnny grunted at the thought of fucking you full of his cum and the memory flickering into his brain. He tightened his hold on your body, hands falling to your perfect hips, and moved even faster. You gasped when he sank his teeth into your neck, fiending for you. All of you. 

You took it like you were made to take him. Your soft moans and sweet cries were unraveling Johnny quicker than he would have liked, making his dick twitch inside you, and it was only a matter of seconds until he lost the fight. 

It was insane how much power you wielded over each other. You knew all the right places to touch, all the right words, all the right things to say. There were no limits. Only getting lost in the endless cosmos of each other. 

Johnny closed his eyes as he at last came with a delicious, guttural groan that made you burn with the urge to suck the soul out of him. He kept fucking you until he felt like stopping, his warmth flooding into your wet pussy, and the sensation made you moan. 

When he was finally sated, he collapsed against your chest, smothering you with the weight of him that you loved. You could feel his tired breath on your neck and the heat of his body against yours, and it was oddly comforting. 

Johnny lifted his head from the crook of your neck to peer into your eyes, asking, “You okay?”

You nodded. “I’m good. Thank you for that.”

Johnny chuckled. He could feel the tension leaving your body and he was proud, and more than glad, to be of service. “Pleasure is my business and I aim to satisfy.”

You giggled at his words, wounding your arms around his broad shoulders while you held him close. You knew you would have to get up one way or another, but not right now. This was your time to simply be there for each other. 

And that was what you did, but then you had a mischievous thought and it was all you could do not to snicker as you untangled yourself from Johnny’s arms. He was reluctant to let you go, but relented, watching you with curious eyes. 

You brought your hand down to his now soft cock, toying with him as you tried to get him up again. There was an untamed look in your eyes that didn’t go unnoticed by Johnny.

He tensed immediately when he felt your hands on him. His voice was suspicious. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing, sweetheart,” you replied in a tone that was way too innocent to be believable. 

Johnny’s eyes narrowed. “I think you’re doing something.”

You giggled, gently shoving at him. It didn’t work, but Johnny took it as a sign that you wanted him to shift, and so he sat up on the bed. You followed, returning your hand between his legs as you stroked him back rigid. 

“Are you really trying to make me come again?”

You shrugged. That was only half your goal. You wanted to make him lose his mind, and the best way to do that was to give him a nut he would always remember. “Why not? Don’t tell me that’s all you got for me, handsome?”

“I always got more for you,” Johnny flirted without hesitation. 

You smirked, moving from the bed and sinking onto your knees. “That’s what I like to hear.”

Johnny had only just managed to recover his breathing when he felt his breath start to hitch again as you pumped him stiff in your hands, which only took a few moments. You were his vice. Nothing got him hard like you, the thought of you, and the promise of fucking you. 

When he was ready, you took him into your mouth slowly but steadily, inch by inch. You kept your fist around the base of his cock, figuring it would be best to have multiple sensations. Johnny groaned. It was one thing to fist his own cock, but when you were the one doing it, it was like his entire body was in flames. 

“Fuck,” he grunted, tangling his fingers through your hair none too gently. He knew you liked it a little rough, knew you didn’t feel alive without pain. 

Your supple hands moved just fast enough to make Johnny want more and your mouth took just enough of him that you weren’t gagging. He was a really big boy. Though you knew you could fit more, you wanted to draw things out for as long as you could, slowly tasting his shaft with your tongue. 

Johnny gave your cheek a little impatient slap when he started to get annoyed with your teasing. This was the only man you would let touch you like that and get away with it. Mainly because it was hot coming from him and you liked pushing his buttons. 

Ignoring the faint burn of his palm on your cheek, you obliged his silent command, knowing better than to test him. He wouldn’t hesitate to take away all the power you thought you had right now and have you at his mercy. You took more of him into your mouth, head bobbing around his cock. 

“Shit, baby. Like that. Suck me just like that,” Johnny moaned. You loved the breathlessness in his voice, the way he sounded borderline desperate. And you loved knowing that it was only for you even more. 

Johnny watched you suck him off like it was the driving force behind your life, seemingly having your fill of teasing him. He gathered another fistful of your hair, using it to keep you in check. You looked so pretty on your knees for him, kneading his cock with your perfect tongue. 

It was everything you knew it would be, knew he would be unable to resist. You wanted to see him unravel one good time before the night was over, no matter the cost. The bruises forming on your knees and the dull soreness developing in your throat be damned. 

You loved pleasing Johnny. Not only because you got pleasure from having the power to make a dominant man like him lose his shit, though that was a significant part of it. There was a giving side of you that just wanted to see him content as his reward for making you feel safe and comfortable. 

The violent need for control you had stemmed from a lifelong struggle with power. You had been completely helpless before and now you wanted to conquer the unconquerable. There was nothing that would stand between you and what you wanted. After being denied so many times, you became the villain and began to take. 

But Johnny was just as stubborn as you, if not more. He couldn’t be bent into shape and he would never bend to anyone’s will. Though it took you a minute to accept, you liked that about him. He didn’t view you as something to be feared. And he seized control over you without making you feel like something to own. 

There was no way in hell you could repay him for that, but you knew he would settle for a mind-numbing blowjob.

Johnny grumbled curses under his breath as he started to rock into your throat without warning, setting a rhythm of his own. He was close to the edge and he needed to come. You weren’t prepared. You gagged a little bit, eyes burning. But you didn’t complain. 

“I’m gonna come,” Johnny warned, though it was relatively obvious. “Take it all for me, baby. I know you can.”

You allowed Johnny to fuck your throat as he so pleased, desperately trying to handle his aggressive pace and willing yourself not to gag by sheer force. The throbbing between your thighs had returned and you chastised yourself for getting horny over being used. 

Johnny tipped his head back with a moan he couldn’t stifle before looking back down at you again, something sharp and hungry in his stare. You looked up and met his gaze, your eyes misty with unshed tears, and the sight made him bust on the spot. 

His thighs trembled as he released, painting the back of your throat with a load of hot cum you attempted to swallow. He hissed in something like pain but not quite there, his grip tightening on your hair, inadvertently pulling your face flush against his balls. 

It was a sight you would never forget. The way his handsome face tensed perfectly in a dangerous kind of ecstasy, a deep groan of your name escaping his lips. The way he swallowed as he accepted his defeat. It was absolutely beautiful. 

Johnny panted, pulling you off him and wiping a stray tear from your face with his thumb. “You win. This time. Next time I won’t go easy on you.”

Your voice was a little hoarse from the rough fucking it had received as you snickered and replied, “If that was you going easy on me, I’d hate to see you going hard.” 

Johnny smirked. “Please. You love when I go hard.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. 

Johnny ushered you to the bathroom for a shower. Though it was much smaller than you knew he was used to, he didn’t complain. He was mostly focused on taking care of you and worshiping your body after ravaging it. Which was only fair. 

You fell asleep in record time, tangled in his embrace. Nights with Johnny ensured the easiest sleep you had ever gotten. There was something about the arms of a big, strong man like him that easily lured you someplace far away. They were the safest place in the world. 

Morning came and Johnny rose before you did, gingerly slipping from behind you. Watching your face as he climbed out of the bed, he was careful to make sure you didn’t stir. The last thing he wanted was to wake you up when you were blissfully oblivious. He grabbed his cell phone from the nightstand and started out. 

Johnny glanced at you one more time before leaving. You looked so peaceful, curled up into the blankets. He’d noticed that you had this uncanny ability to fall asleep anywhere, at any given time. He shook his head and made for the door. Most nights he lay awake. 

Something didn’t feel right. You noticed the empty spot in the small bed and the lack of arms around your body immediately upon rousing. That was weird. Where had Johnny gone? Did he leave in pursuit of coffee? Or did someone get to him while you were sleeping?

You told yourself you were being ridiculous and tossed the blankets off your body, sliding your feet into a pair of slippers. The possibilities were endless, but it was reasonable to assume Johnny was still in the house somewhere. He wouldn’t have gone without a fight. And there was no doubt you would have heard a struggle. 

The sound of his voice coming from the living room made you grind to a halt in the tiny, dark hallway. He sounded like he was speaking on the phone. You tried to make out who he was talking to, but his responses gave nothing away. They were too straightforward. 

Much like how you were trained to answer questions on the phone when the wrong people were privy to your conversations. 

You lingered in the hall, wondering whether you should have approached or not. Something told you not to give yourself away just yet, but something else told you to stop treating Johnny like a sub by spying on him. Fuck’s sake, he was your partner. 

Before you could decide, Johnny hung up the phone and started for the kitchen. You acted like you were casually walking down the hallway and greeted him sweetly. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” Johnny replied, slipping his fingers through yours as he led you into the kitchen with him. “I made coffee.”

“Thanks.”

Johnny added playfully, “For myself. But you’re more than welcome to have some.”

You rolled your eyes. He was only kidding, but you always loved how much energy this guy could have in the morning. You were an early riser because it was built into you. Johnny was just a productive kind of man. 

The kitchen was uncomfortably crowded even with only the two of you inside, so you shifted over to the slightly larger living room while you drank coffee together. Johnny was sitting beside you on the couch with his spare hand instinctively resting on your thigh, tracing circles on your exposed skin. 

Your eyes flickered to his naked back for all of two seconds before you willed yourself to focus on the important bits. “I heard you on the phone earlier,” you mentioned, getting a conversation rolling. 

Johnny seemed totally relaxed, as if he had nothing to hide. “Did you now?” 

“Yeah, I did,” you replied, glancing back down at his hand on your thigh before meeting his eyes. “Who were you talking to?”

Johnny realized by now that you were doubting him in some way, and he was quick to explain, “I was talking to my mom, letting her know that we might have to do a rain check. You and I were supposed to fly out and see her this weekend. Remember?”

That was true. Your last night in Monaco was always meant to be yesterday regardless of how the day’s events played out. “Ah,” you replied, quiet. It would have been your first time meeting his mother. Which meant things were serious. “Well, you’re still close to home.”

“She doesn’t know that,” Johnny said. “She did most of the talking. I was trying to keep her from getting worried without revealing too much information.”

That was a perfectly logical explanation and you believed him wholeheartedly. You made a face, feeling guilty for suspecting someone as harmless as Johnny. Maybe that phone call with Mark the other day was making you even more paranoid than you already were. 

That was the way of life around here, though. Your kind didn’t believe in being innocent until proven guilty. It was the other way around. As much as you wanted to deny it, Mark had a valid point. You needed to hold Johnny to the same standard that you held henchmen. 

But you still felt bad. In your mind, Johnny was probably the last person you needed to be evaluating. “I’m sorry,” you whispered with obvious guilt. 

“Don’t apologize,” Johnny told you, patting your thigh. “You want to be safe. I get it. Like I said, trust your gut.”

You swallowed. That was the problem. You had always trusted your gut, but between her and your heart, you couldn’t tell the difference when you were with Johnny. “There’s an old saying in the underground, uh, my former boss told me. Death that tastes like sugar is poison.”

Johnny cocked his head, staring deeply into your eyes. And maybe your soul. “What’s it mean?”

“That something that seems too good to be true probably is,” you said, your gaze unfaltering as you watched him watch you. 

Johnny took that in stride, chuckling. Draping an arm over you, he asked softly, “How do you sleep at night when you’re always looking over your shoulder?”

“Because I have you next to me,” you quipped.

Johnny laughed. “Good answer.”

Playfully ruining the mood, you added, “And your dick also makes a good lullaby. You wear me out.”

“Better answer,” Johnny replied, leaning in to meet his lips to yours in a gentle, intimate kiss. The feeling of your body made him feel warm all over. 

You kissed him back, hands combing through his hair. And he was sweet as sugar.

You soon forgot all about your suspicions and tried to forget about your worries as well, but it was much harder done than said. Keeping your mind off the madness was like pulling teeth. Johnny wanted to help, but the more he tried to comfort you, the more shame and dread made your stomach ache. 

You were just antsy. Waiting on a phone call or something from Doyoung was leaving you on edge. The silence was suffocating. Any moment you could die and the people hunting you had a solid five different ways to take you out of the picture. For good. 

At the same time, you were thinking of Johnny’s comfort too. You could tell he didn’t exactly love this place. It was a far cry from the luxurious suite in Monaco, but it was something you were accustomed to as a criminal. Your only hope was that it didn’t inconvenience Johnny too much to be here. You knew how he hated confinement. 

You also knew that it was for the best. There was no way you could promise to keep him safe if he wasn’t here beside one of the most lethal proxies to enter the league. Though you couldn’t help but regret coming into his life and bringing your chaos with you. It was selfish. He may have insisted that he wasn't afraid of your darkness, but Johnny had also never seen your monsters. 

Even you were scared of them. That said more than enough. 

With that thought, you considered the only thing you hadn’t done. The one option you had been actively avoiding. Which was telling Johnny the whole truth. You were painfully aware that if you told him the full extent of what you were, you couldn’t just stop there. You would have to tell him everything.

That thought was terrifying. It might have done you some good to confess away the weight on your chest, but you didn’t want anything to change more than it likely already had. You liked things between you and Johnny the way they were without him knowing what all you’d done, but the truth of the matter was that he already knew. He may not have known the details, but there was no doubt he had imagined it. 

Frankly, whatever he was picturing in his head was probably nothing compared to what you had actually gone through. 

With a sigh, you removed yourself from your post in the living room and made your way over to the bedroom where Johnny was. He looked up when he heard you come in and watched you plop down beside him. “Hi,” you greeted, shyer than you had ever been with him.

Johnny held back a chuckle, wondering what that meant. “Hi, beautiful.”

That word stung to an indescribable level, because you felt so ugly at the moment. For what you had done. For what you had seen. And for what you hadn’t said. “I’m coming clean.”

Johnny raised a brow. “Oh?”

You nodded, stuck in the middle of an extremely unfair game of tug of war with your nerves. “Yeah. You deserve to know the truth. And the truth is that I’ve been hiding myself from you for eight months.”

Johnny didn’t say a word, letting you talk. He recognized that look on your face, the one that meant you had something to get off your chest. 

You took a deep breath and explained, “When we first met in that hotel earlier this year, I was in the middle of a mission. A week after we hooked up, I finished it. It was the last one I ever did, because I got so tangled in you that you made me want to be normal again. So I hung up my cap and tried to live a happy life with you.” 

“But then this happened,” he finished for you in typical Johnny fashion. 

“Yeah,” you replied, glancing down at your hands in your lap and chuckling faintly. “Five years ago, I was a part of a unit assigned to eliminate a major sub in the underground. Subject, I mean. That’s what we call our hits.”

Johnny nodded along in understanding. “I’m guessing that didn’t go too well?”

You swallowed, fumbling with your hands. This was your least favorite part of the story. “We got so close. We were at this ball for his drug front. I still don’t know how it happened and how he found out, but two of us died that night. The other five survived by the skin of our teeth.”

“That dude you said opened a poisoned letter,” Johnny started, mentally connecting the dots. “Was he a member of your team?”

You frowned. “He was. There was another girl too, and she was killed the other morning. There’s only three of us now. We’re all being hunted to the last man.”

The room was silent. It didn’t surprise you that Johnny had gone quiet, probably trying to process everything you were telling him, but it did unnerve you a little. 

You had so much more to say. Now that you had gotten started, a part of you didn’t want to stop. You had been carrying these secrets with you since forever. “After we made it out, we had all agreed to lay low and not draw any attention to ourselves. One of my partners went back home to Canada because that’s where he feels safe. But I don’t feel safe anywhere. That’s why I’m always moving. It’s not because I like traveling. It’s because I’m on the run.”

“That’s like running from your shadow,” Johnny whispered, gently putting an arm over your shoulder. He wasn’t in any way malicious, but that comment made you sweat. 

He was right. The shadow of who you were would follow you perpetually. You couldn’t just wipe the slate clean now that it was stained in blood. It was naive of you to think that the past wouldn’t come back to bite you. This life had chosen you, after all. Not the other way around. 

“You are the one place in this world where I feel safe. Where I feel like I don’t have to hide,” you confessed, glancing up to meet his gaze. “But at the same time, that’s why I’ve been hiding from you. I was scared that if you knew what I really am, you wouldn’t want to be with me anymore. And I would lose the only reliable thing I have.”

Johnny didn’t say anything about that, gingerly running his hands over you. You already knew that he wasn’t leaving. “What all do you know about this sub you were hunting?”

The better question would have been what you didn’t know. You worked harder than you’d played, and you’d gone through great lengths to uncover the dirty secrets of that syndicate and each of its high-ranking members. The Emperor, their leader. Volcano, the explosionist. Toxic, the poisoner. Bullseye, the sniper. Torch, the arsonist. And Backstabber, the spy. 

You sighed, being forced to confront the part of your life you’d been running from for the past five years. “Frankly, I’ve never seen his face. We just know that he runs one of the most dangerous syndicates in the underground. We got damning info on their ranks, their functions and their operations. It was the most advanced job I ever had.”

“How come?”

“Well, because the core of my job is that I’m more of a killer,” you replied, the words like poison on your own tongue. “When you kill big fish, it’s natural to have to do a lot of digging to establish the best method, but nothing like this. This was months of grueling effort even with a team. And it was my first time with a group.”

You were not used to working on a team and it was more than a little obvious, but the seven of you made it work. Mark could testify to your aloofness. You were good friends now, but you rarely went out of your way to speak to him. It was nothing personal; that was just how you rolled. 

Johnny was taking all of this surprisingly well. He didn’t flinch once when you casually mentioned killing. “Five years is a long wait.”

You shrugged your shoulders. You had held grudges for much longer. And in the underground, people forgot very little. They forgave even less. “When you make an attempt on someone’s life, it’s not,” you told him, a shiver running your own spine. “It’s perfectly calculated revenge. Like I said, our unit buckled down on safety after the mission failed. I’m sure the syndicate wanted to wait until we let our guard down to strike.”

“You said it's a big syndicate,” Johnny reminded, maybe the smallest hint of concern in his voice, as if he was trying not to let it show. “Where do you stand in the line between the powerful and the powerless?”

That was an unexpected question and it made your brows knit together in thought. “Well, I’m not in the game anymore, but I’ve spent a lifetime building up my power and rep. I’ve got influence. I could still have my hand in the business if I wanted, if you know what I mean. And I’m a pretty good damn shot. I’ve never missed.”

Johnny cocked his head. “So you just threw it all away to be with me? And they just let you?” 

“When I last worked, I was a freelance proxy. I didn’t belong to a network and I never will again,” you replied with noticeable disdain. “When you’re as good as me, it gets you power,  but it also gets you a lot of enemies. So obviously there’s a lot of people out there that don’t wanna see me happy. That’s why I lay low.”

Johnny took a good look at you. He knew you were making it sound easier than it was, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. The place he was looking was far deeper. “Why this life? Why not something more normal or less dangerous? Why did you choose to live a life where the only thing you can trust is your gut?”

“I didn’t choose it,” you said, quiet as a mouse. “I didn’t have a chance to be anything different. It was either this, or a slow death. I lived on the streets as a kid and I saw a lot of crazy shit in a short time. I guess it desensitized me. Which made me the perfect candidate for a contract killer.”

“So you were taken in?” Johnny asked. 

“Remember how I said I didn’t wanna be in a network again?”

Johnny nodded his head, seeing where you were going with this, and he frowned at the thought of something happening to you. “Yeah, I noticed that.”

“Well, they took me in when I was twelve,” you told him, less than proud. But you told yourself countless times that you’d only done what you had to do to survive. “Primed me for the job. They said I would make them a lot of money someday. And I did.”

Johnny wasn’t too convinced that this was so simple either. “There’s more to the story. Isn’t there?”

You tensed with something far more explosive than anger and potent than sadness, something that made your eyes blur. You fought it with all your strength, whispering, “I went through a lot of shit, Johnny. But I couldn’t leave. Because they told me they were the only family I would ever have. And they weren’t wrong. But the shit they put me through? I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. And I have a lot of those.”

Johnny frowned, but he’d expected as much. He doubted there were a large number of people that had a normal upbringing and yet went on to become contract killers, if any at all. He whispered your name softly. “You didn’t deserve whatever you went through.”

Your eyes were burning. “Then why does it feel like I’ve been punished since the second I was born?”

Hearing you say that broke Johnny’s heart. It was clear to him that you had been through hell and back. More than anything, he wanted to relieve you of all your suffering and kill all the demons he knew you’d faced. The demons he knew you weren’t done facing. “I want you to listen to me carefully,” he said softly, taking your hand in his own. “You are not being punished. I know it’s unfair what happened to you, but you did what anyone would have done to make it. You made a hard choice. You made the strong one.”

“I’m tired of being strong,” you murmured. 

“I know. I know you are,” Johnny replied, letting you rest your head on your shoulder. “But that’s exactly what these people want. They want to break you down and give you a reason not to fight. Don’t let them win.”

You were silent for a long minute, strangely comforted by his words. So many times had you thought of giving up, of letting go. The main reason you were still alive was because you were too cocky to let anyone else kill you and too much of a coward to do it on your own. 

Finally, you glanced up into Johnny’s eyes and asked, “Why aren’t you scared of me?”

Johnny could see the vulnerability in your expression, a part of you he had never seen before, and it made him even more curious about you than he already was. “Because I don’t think you’re a monster.” 

Those words came with an impact. You didn’t know how to feel. There was something about the way Johnny saw you that was so damn precious and too much of a damn lie. 

“Call me crazy, but I don’t think there’s anything you could ever do to scare me away,” he continued, looking at you like you were the most beautiful woman in the world. He wished you could see yourself the way he saw you. 

You swallowed hard. It was hard to believe that you had found someone with such unwavering loyalty to you, without any ulterior motives. You felt bad for doubting him again, but you just couldn’t shake the thought that something wasn’t right. Your insecurities were loud. 

One part of it was that you had always viewed Johnny as the perfect picture of what a normal life should have looked like. What did it mean if he glimpsed into your world and somehow didn’t immediately run the other direction?

Johnny tilted your head up and placed his thumb on your bottom lip, as if he was preparing to lean in for a kiss. You would have let him, but in that very moment, your phone began to ring in your back pocket. 

You startled, pulling away and immediately putting the phone up to your ear. “What’s the move?”

“It’s time,” came Doyoung’s voice from the phone, stern as ever. “You know where to go. Don’t waste any time.”

“Copy that,” you answered, sending a look Johnny’s way to let him know it was time to get going. 

The line went dead and you immediately got to work. Johnny had already started moving, preparing to leave the house and head towards the final destination. “Where are we even going?” he asked in the middle of gathering his things for the second time. 

It was a valid question and Johnny was half expecting a vague answer, so he was surprised when you replied, “Dead Man’s End. It’s an old refuge for assassins, been around since the eighties. It’s kind of like a hitman hotel, if you will.”

Johnny grimaced. “That just sounds like a recipe for disaster to me. Are you sure about this?”

You exhaled a deep breath, pausing dead in your tracks. That was a good question for which you didn’t have a proper answer. “No, but it’s our best bet at figuring out what the hell is going on. And besides, the road there is way scarier than the place itself.”

“Whatever that means,” Johnny mumbled. 

His reluctance made you frown. You understood his distaste, but this was entirely out of your hands. Your best bet at survival was by pairing together with the last walking members of your old unit and going over what you knew about this organization. 

As long as you were still breathing, no one was going to hunt you like an animal and get away with it. 

There were a couple hours of travel to make and Johnny was adamant that he would drive, even if he didn’t know the roads. You let him. It wasn’t like you were expecting a coup. When you said the road to the hotel was scarier than the place itself, you’d only meant putting up with all the dread and unease.  

After driving endlessly, you finally pulled in front of a random building in the middle of essentially nowhere. You knew you were at the right place when you noticed how meager the place looked from the exterior. Nothing that would draw unwanted attention. It was the perfect hideout for criminals like yourself with a lot of blood on their hands. 

“So, what’s the plan?” Johnny asked as you both carried your things to the door.

You kept yourself composed. “We’re going to walk in and get a room. Don’t say anything. I’m gonna find my boss.”

Johnny nodded, opening the lobby door and holding it for you as you strolled inside with your suitcase in tow. You thanked him and he followed you straight to the front desk where a woman was sitting there on the phone. She glanced up at you and mouthed, “One moment, please.”

While you waited, you glanced around the lobby, scrutinizing it with the intent to commit the entire layout to memory. There was standard hotel stuff, in spite of this being a getaway for lowlifes. A small lounge area with the television set on some sports channel. An even smaller spot for brewing coffee. There were more things down the hall beside the elevator. 

The lack of other human presence didn’t concern you. Most wouldn’t hang out somewhere as open and vulnerable as the main lobby, and the wise few wouldn’t come out at all. You didn’t look for long. You didn’t need to. It was your job to be able to record a lot of information with little time and effort, and nothing seemed out of place, so far. 

“Alright, sorry about that,” the receptionist said after a few minutes, putting the phone down. She glanced between you and Johnny. “Name and handler?”

You told her your name and gave her Doyoung’s, before gesturing towards Johnny and adding casually, “He’s with me.”

The receptionist glanced up at Johnny and nodded, documenting his name in addition to yours. “I’m going to need you to check in your weapons, please.”

Drawing your weapon from behind you, you signaled towards Johnny again and told her, “He’s not carrying.”

“That’s fine, but I still need you both to check your luggage through that door over there. It’s like the airport, only much simpler.”

The expression on Johnny’s face gave away the fact he clearly found the policy odd, but you both followed instructions and stepped through the security checkpoint one after another, not hearing a single beep. 

But when the receptionist handed over your keycards, instructing you to head to the elevator on the right hand side of the room, Johnny crept close and whispered, “Never heard of criminals checking in their guns.” 

You snickered. “I told you, the road here is scarier than the place itself. With a bunch of murderers in the same room, shit’s bound to get messy if we’re all packing. It’s the only thing that makes this place remotely safe.”

Johnny didn’t seem too convinced about the safety of this refuge. “You don’t need a gun to kill someone.”

“That’s true, but it makes things a lot easier,” you replied, pressing the second floor button. It was perfectly safe; not too close to the bottom floor, yet not too far away from the ground.

Johnny had no argument. 

When you reached the second floor, you both stepped out, scanning the hallway for your room number. The walls were a murky shade of green, the paint chipping off and every decoration (which they barely had) looking as if it was on its last leg. The entire place appeared stale and in violent need of renovation, but something about it was strangely comforting. 

You walked by one door and immediately got a strong whiff of marijuana. “Someone’s getting high as hell,” Johnny quipped. 

“Could be worse,” you murmured. 

The second you were in the room, you locked the door and secured the door chain, making sure no one could creep inside behind you. Then, you swung your luggage onto the bed and dug in your pockets for your phone, sending Doyoung a text to let him know that you had checked in and you were ready to meet. 

“I’m guessing your former boss’ name is Doyoung,” Johnny said, given that was the name you had supplied to the receptionist earlier. “Is he here?”

“No idea,” you replied, brows stitched together. You had been expecting an instant response or phone call. “I thought he would be. I’ll give it twenty minutes before I get suspicious.”

Johnny had noticed a shift in you. You seemed somewhat more comfortable and at ease here than you ever did at the five-star hotels he’d stayed in with you or even the safe house you’d locked yourselves in only some hours before, and he wanted some kind of explanation. He knew you had your reasons for everything, but the idea didn’t make any sense to him whatsoever. 

But he didn’t ask. Instead, he settled on the bed and flirted, “You know what I could do to you in twenty minutes?”

“Absolutely nothing,” you chirped, playing along. “Our foreplay lasts way longer than that.”

Johnny chortled, knowing it was true. A solid half of your foreplay didn’t even involve physical touch. Sometimes he got worked up simply from talking to you and listening to you speak your mind. “We can skip the talking,” he said, loosely grabbing your waist. “That’s my favorite part though.”

“Mine, too,” you agreed. “But frankly, I don’t trust these beds.”

Johnny laughed. Everything about this building made it seem like it hadn’t been touched in decades. “Well, let’s hope we’re not here for long.”

You wouldn’t be. Either you would come to danger, or danger would flock to you in large quantities. No matter what happened, your only hope was that you would be prepared. There was no hiding. 

At first, ten minutes passed. Weird, but no big deal. Then an entire twenty went by and you were still snuggling up on Johnny, having not heard a single chime or ping. That was extremely out of the ordinary and you internally began to fret. 

Retreating from Johnny’s arms ever so begrudgingly, you gave him a fleeting kiss on the lips and said, “I’m gonna go check things out. It’s really weird that he hasn’t called or texted me yet.”

There was a hint of reluctance in Johnny’s eyes, as if he didn’t want to let you go, but there was nothing he could do to keep you still. You were restless. “Be safe,” he told you, appreciating how the faint feeling of your kiss was lingering on his lips. 

“You be safe too,” you replied with worry. It wasn’t like you wanted to leave Johnny alone, but you trusted that he could hold his own. “Keep the door locked at all times. The bolt and the chain.”

Johnny waved you off. “I know, I know. I’m not a kid, baby.”

“I just want to make sure you’re careful. I love you.” The words had already escaped your lips before you realized exactly what you were saying, but you couldn’t take it back. You blinked in surprise. 

Johnny’s eyes widened vaguely, having not expected you to blurt out a confession of your love for him, but he was pleasantly surprised. “I know you do. I love you too.”

You nodded silently, feeling awkward. With one final glance and a pat on his shoulder, you waved goodbye and turned away. 

There was something you had to get to the bottom of. 

You stepped into the hallway. Doyoung was the type of human being you didn’t call unless it was an absolute emergency, as were you, so you had tried to keep your conversations strictly written only, but something about this situation was starting to give you unpleasant vibes. Calling you hours ago to order you here, but not being around himself, didn’t make any sense. 

Not to mention Mark, who you hadn’t heard from since that less than ten-minute phone call you’d had when you landed. You wondered if he had even arrived in the States safely. The most important thing right now was figuring out if he and Doyoung were even still alive.

The thought struck fear into your very soul, but you tried not to let it consume you. There was a reason the lot of you had been assigned together to the same team, and that was because you had the means and the willpower to survive. You wouldn’t be taken down easily and neither would they. They were strong. 

You felt borderline naked without your gun as you sauntered very quietly down the hallway of the second floor, but the knowledge that no one else had their weapons on them either provided you some easy reassurance. Plus you had something that not everyone else did. Your tenacity was your secret weapon. 

With no other viable option, you gave in and dialed Doyoung’s number on the burner phone, hoping he would pick up after a few rings. The call immediately went to voicemail. You furrowed your brows and tried again, but he ultimately still didn’t answer. 

Which made you moderately anxious. 

Maybe he had to get another phone, you told yourself, which still didn’t make enough sense. Doyoung had a remarkable memory. Wouldn’t he still try to contact you?

This was officially beyond weird. This was venturing into the territory of all things dark and dangerous. You promptly dialed Mark’s number instead, hopeful to get a hold of him, but to no avail. Rather than go straight to voicemail like Doyoung’s phone, it went on and on. 

Fuck, he switched phones, you remembered, thrusting yourself back into that phone call you’d had the other day. He had said something about how he was about to toss his phone and how you had good timing. Wherever it was, it wasn’t off or dead, but still of no use to either of you now.

That was the catch. You were meant to be elusive and completely untraceable, but it came to a disadvantage when even the people you needed most couldn’t reach you. 

Having no idea what else to do, you turned around and headed back for your room to regroup, knowing you needed to mull over your next steps and the middle of a hallway was no place to do something like that. On the way, you paid close attention to the windows and any potential blind spots. 

Upon unlocking the door, you were surprised it opened immediately without any need for asking Johnny to unhook the chain. Fuck’s sake, didn’t you tell him to lock it behind you?

“Johnny,” you called out in annoyance, shutting and bolting the door behind yourself as you walked inside. You had been expecting to find him pacing around somewhere or gazing out the window, but you didn’t see his tall body anywhere in the tiny room. 

You narrowed your eyes and checked the bathroom, but it was entirely clear too. Johnny wasn’t here. Matter of fact, the only thing that indicated he was ever even here was his bag on the single bed.

Something like panic filled your chest and made your stomach tighten. Your brain immediately went to the worst case scenario. Did someone get to him in the five seconds you had turned your back? How in the hell did he sneak out of the hallway without you noticing?

You shook your head, willing yourself to calm down. Maybe he just went downstairs to get coffee or something. You knew he needed coffee like an addict needed crack. He would drink it at any given hour. 

Solely to be safe, you quickly called his burner number, having saved it in case of situations like this. You were disappointed when it rang and rang with no answer, wondering what in the hell was happening. It had to be on his person. You would have heard it otherwise.

You groaned and stepped back into the green corridor, confused as all hell. Your very first thought was the elevator. The only reasonable idea you could conceivably imagine in the midst of all this bewilderment was to return to the main floor and see if the receptionist could clue you in on any significant information. 

It felt like you had been standing in front of the elevator for ages before it finally drew back its doors with a chime and allowed you to enter. You pressed the lobby button and waited patiently for it to descend down to the main floor.

The trip took a long minute. Though it was only two floors down, the elevator didn’t seem to be in the same rush you were in, which was more than a little frustrating. Every second you went without answers was another second you couldn’t bring yourself to relax. 

You breathed in a short-lived relief as the doors opened again and you walked onto the main floor, straight for the lobby. The sight in front of you only made you blink. 

The receptionist was very dead, slumped forward onto the front desk. You could see the wound that had done her in, one shot to the back of her neck. The exact same way Doyoung said Margo had been killed. The exact same pattern you had studied in that unit so many years back. 

You shuddered. They were here. Your initial instinct was to charge into the inventory behind the front desk where the receptionist had checked in all of the weapons, but the shock on your face when you realized the entire inventory had been cleared out was priceless. 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” you said aloud in total disbelief. Not only did that mean that you were unarmed, but at least one person here had access to several different weapons.

And you had no idea where Johnny was, or literally anybody else for that matter. 

Paranoid as ever, you frantically called Johnny’s number again, mumbling under your breath for him to pick up the damn phone. Your blood was pumping belligerently in your veins and you were seconds away from losing your ability to think altogether. 

A noise echoed from behind you, making you snap around. You heard a ringing sound from the lounge area of the lobby, but no one was there. You did notice, however, the familiar phone on one of the coffee tables. 

Johnny’s phone was here. Which meant that at some point, he had been here as well. And he possibly knew what had happened with the receptionist. 

Your brain was starting to hurt, spiraling with all the different possibilities of what had happened and what was to come. There was only one thing you knew for certain, and that was that your trust in Johnny was steadily beginning to wane. There was no longer a strong faith in his seemingly normal, picture perfect life. With every second that passed without knowing where he was, it dwindled more and more. 

An idea popped into your head and you stepped around the desk, skillfully maneuvering around the dead body to briefly scan today’s log for any relevant information. You didn’t know why you hadn’t thought of it sooner. If any of your colleagues had checked in, their names would be on the paper.

You grinned triumphantly when you saw two familiar names, Mark and Doyoung. They had both checked in this morning, hours apart, with Doyoung logically getting here first and Mark some time afterwards. So they were here. The only thing that didn’t make sense was why you hadn’t heard a peep from either of them since your last exchanges over the phone. 

At the very least, you knew you had to keep moving. You were a walking target the longer you stayed in place. There had to be a way to figure out where they were without risking your life in the process. It may have felt like it, but you weren’t the only one in the building.

Making a beeline for the elevator, you tried to create some semblance of a plan. Given the other one was out of order, it was the only functioning elevator connecting the four total floors, which made it a dangerous spot for anyone trying to travel. And seemingly so far, no one else had been brave enough. 

That, or they took the stairs. Either way, you had to be cautious. You saw the way the receptionist had been killed - quick, efficient, and more importantly, quiet. Gone within a blink. There were people here who wanted you dead, likely staking out every available exit, and you had to be both stronger and smarter than them if you wanted a shot at survival. 

The very second you were back in the room, you chained the door shut behind yourself. It felt like you were walking in circles. Your body was hyper aware of the danger it was involved in, burning with the urge to pace around, but you didn’t want to make excessive noise or draw any unwanted attention to yourself with movement. 

You did, however, approach the closet in search of something that could be used as a makeshift weapon, knowing that you inevitably would have to go back out. You stilled when one of the floorboards creaked beneath your weight. At first, it was out of fear of making too much noise. Then, you realized there was something unusual about the panel. 

It was loose, as if it had been removed and then placed back improperly. With your experience in the industry, you knew it was very common for proxies to leave tools in place for their allies to use. You weren’t at all surprised to find something like this in the hotel. 

Getting down on your knees, you scanned the room for something to facilitate pulling up the panel, grabbing the closest object of assistance and digging up whatever the hell was clearly underneath the wooden plank.

It was a gun. 

You beamed, victorious. Upon checking the chamber, you found it was fully loaded. Meaning you had all the ammunition in the world in comparison to most people here, assuming those stolen guns in the inventory had fallen into the hands of one person and not many. 

Well, that changed things. For one, you no longer had to confine yourself to this room for half of eternity. You would obviously still need to be extremely cautious, but now you had a means of defending yourself. And for two, it would be easier to find your former teammates, and get rid of anyone who stood in your way. 

With a sigh, you nodded to yourself, standing up. You tried to think of a tentative plan. For starters, you had to find Doyoung. He would have answers, he always did. And where in the hell had Johnny run off to? 

Back in the hallway, it didn’t take long for you to get your answer. 

Johnny was by the elevator, stained in blood.

You rooted in place as if you had crossed paths with a wild bear. For a second, you couldn’t even feel yourself breathe. Your heart all but stopped. And when Johnny finally turned and saw you, standing there in total shock, the emotion on his face was completely unreadable. 

There was a dry lump in your throat that you tried to dampen by swallowing. Who’s fucking blood was that? 

Then, it hit you. 

“Did you kill the receptionist?” you asked, blurting out the question the moment it entered your mind. 

Johnny had the audacity to blink in surprise, as if he had no idea what you were talking about. Which you didn’t believe for a second. “No, of course not.”

“I don’t believe you,” you snapped. “You disappeared when I told you to stay inside. I called your phone. You weren’t in the lobby, but it was. Don’t expect me to believe that you had nothing to do with this.”

In an attempt to be consoling, Johnny reached out to hold you like he had always done when he tried to reassure you calmly, gingerly calling out your name before responding, “Baby, I know what it looks like, but…”

You instinctively whipped out the gun you had found, pointing it at him in a heartbeat as you stepped away. “Don’t fucking touch me,” you warned, threatening. Your true colors were showing. The side of you that you never let him see. “I swear to God, I will shoot you.”

Johnny backed up, putting his hands up in innocence, as if he had nothing wrong. He looked surprised, likely not expecting you to be armed, whereas it didn’t seem like he was packing. Right now. “It looks like my cat’s out of the bag. I might as well come clean.”

Your heart was trembling, but your mind was trying to cling onto some leftover strength. She wasn’t a quitter. “You knew. You knew ever since we got that laced letter.”

“There was no laced letter,” Johnny replied, indifferent. 

Your eyes narrowed. “And how would you know that?”

“Because I’m the one that sent it to us.”

You didn’t think it was possible for you to go any more still than you already had, but now you were as rigid as a corpse, standing there in a kind of disbelief stronger than the agony of a bullet tearing through flesh. “Who are you?” you asked stiffly. 

Johnny smirked, as if he was proud of himself for having deceived you all this time. “Take a wild guess.”

“You’re his gun,” you said, hands trembling as you grasped the weapon in your hands. All this time, your kryptonite had been hiding in plain sight. You had shown affection to the enemy, held him, made love to him. Slept beside him at night with all the trust your wounded self could muster.  

“I consider myself his poison,” Johnny retorted. 

You gawked. The gears were turning in your head, the gears that should have turned a long time ago, but you were too love blind to see it. “Your function,” you gasped. “You’re the poisoner. You’re Toxic.”

“Ding. Ding. Ding. I was wondering how long it would take you to figure me out. They said you were the best of the best, you know. I guess that was before I got to you,” Johnny replied, grinning from ear to ear. He sighed, content. Then, he patted himself on the back, and quipped, “Good going, Johnny.”

“Is this a fucking joke to you?” you asked viciously, clearly having none of it.

“Maybe just a little bit, yeah,” Johnny admitted, chuckling faintly. “I mean, you have to admit I got you good. Rich American guy who loves traveling but never talks in detail about his job. I mean, I thought it would be too convenient, but you never asked any questions.”

Because I didn’t want you asking any questions about mine, you thought, but the words wouldn’t come. You were too stunned to speak. He had you completely fooled.

“You’re a bastard,” you sneered. 

Rather than be offended, Johnny laughed in amusement. “How are we any different? You had your secrets too.”

“I told you what I was when shit hit the fan,” you replied, although you knew it would be impossible to justify your half of it. You were just so sick of who you used to be and you didn’t want to risk losing what you had now. 

“Yeah, after shit hit the fan,” Johnny said, making a valid point. “Do you know how easy it would have been for me to take your life? God knows I’ve had ample opportunity. And yet you’re still here. Do you wanna know why?”

“Because you want to savor this to the last breath,” you replied, guarded. 

“Because I’m in love with you. Tragically. Fatally. Dangerously.”

You would be lying if you said that you didn’t want to believe him, to crawl into his bloody arms and let him hold you as if you meant something to him. But now you knew what he was. He was exactly like you, if not worse. And you were no stranger to telling a fib if the job required it. 

“Sometimes love isn’t enough,” you argued, willing yourself to be strong. “Where’s Doyoung?”

Johnny wanted to touch you. Where words had failed, he knew his body could win you over, but something told him it wasn’t the best call to make right now. He sobered. “I have no idea, but you need to stay away from him. He’s not what you think he is.”

Your skepticism only heightened. “What do you know about him?”

Johnny was holding back, his hands still above his head. There was obviously something he wasn’t telling you. “He’s dangerous. This whole trip is a scheme to kill you and your friends. He wanted to pry you out of hiding.”

“But you went along with it without saying a thing,” you reminded, doubtful. “How is that any better?”

Johnny sighed. “I had to. It’s the only way.”

“The only way to do what?”

“To get rid of him.”

“Get rid of him for what?”

“He’s the Emperor, baby.”

You shook your head in denial. For one, that didn’t make any sense. Doyoung was the same person you had spent years of your life hunting? Impossible. You saw the grief on his face that night your other teammates had been killed like lambs to the slaughter. 

The idea that he was another evil, however, did explain his absence now that you were finally in the kill zone. You still weren’t entirely adamant on trusting Johnny though. Fuck’s sake, he was covered in blood right now. And you didn’t want to know why. 

“You’re lying,” you sneered, pressing the button to summon the elevator. You couldn’t look at him, couldn’t stand next to him. It was too goddamn overwhelming. 

“I can see why you think that,” Johnny replied softly, having suddenly turned serious. Like he was trying to prove his innocence somehow, even if he was stained in the evidence of what he truly was. “But I promise I’m not.”

You scoffed. If only life was so simple, where promises were inherently something of substance. “Your word means nothing to me right now. You’re a killer,” you said, tightening your grip on the firearm in your hand. 

“I’ve been a killer long before we met. So have you,” Johnny reminded, his voice becoming slightly sharper. “And you know what? I’ve never lied to you. I’ve just kept you away from the whole truth.”

You raised your voice, asking, “How do I know that?”

That tone was something Johnny had never heard from you before, and in a way nothing else ever had, it startled him; it showed him how close he was to losing you. “Don’t you trust me?”

You didn’t even grant that a response. You felt completely and utterly betrayed, even if a part of you didn’t think you had any right to be. It felt like a direct affront to your character that he even asked you something like that. You had trusted him, and look what that had gotten you. Where it had gotten you.

“I’m going to leave this floor,” you replied, gesturing towards the elevator. “And you’re going to make yourself useful, or die trying.”

Johnny looked at you, more so the gun in your hands, eyes flickering in surprise. “You’re leaving? What? No. You can’t do that.”

“Watch me,” you whispered, stepping backwards into the elevator. The whole time, your eyes were trained on Johnny and so was your weapon, making it abundantly clear that you were armed, capable, and very, very dangerous. 

Death didn’t discriminate, after all. Why should you? 

Not daring to move as much as an inch, Johnny watched the elevator door close, stealing you away from him and carrying you to God knows where. “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, heart thudding violently. 

Once in the elevator, you relaxed, but even that was short-lived. You jolted when your phone began to ring and you were shocked when you read the number, recognizing it immediately. You put the phone to your ear and answered, “Jesus, Doyoung. Where the hell are you?”

In typical Doyoung fashion, he didn’t waste any time on explanations, whispering, “Listen to me. Johnny’s lost it. I watched him shoot the receptionist with my own eyes.”

Your brows furrowed. You had mentioned Johnny to Doyoung before, but only vaguely. Not once did you ever reveal his identity. “How do you know his name?”

“How do you think?” Doyoung asked, suggesting it was obvious. “I’ve been keeping tabs on you. I had to make sure you were safe, that you weren’t falling into the same trap as the others.”

“And what did you conclude?”

With seemingly no intention to be very forward for once in his life, Doyoung continued, “I was suspicious. His record was squeaky clean, too clean, so I kept digging. I didn’t find a damn thing, but I knew I was right to be suspicious when I saw him shoot the receptionist with no mercy.”

You shook your head, thinking it over. Missing inventory aside, whoever killed the receptionist had to have access to a gun, but they had all been checked in upon entrance. And you knew Johnny wasn’t carrying one, because the machine would have dinged if he was. 

Though that didn’t mean there weren’t any other weapons in the building whatsoever. You were sure there was some way to sneak them inside and plant them for others to get a hold of. Hell, that was the only reason you had one now. 

To say nothing of the fact that he was literally stained in blood. That was the entire reason you had suspected him in the first place. The only problem was that now that you thought about it, he couldn’t have been armed. You saw the look on his face when you left and it couldn’t just have been because he didn’t want you to go. 

It was because you had something valuable. 

Another conflicting part of the story was that Doyoung talked about Johnny as if they had never met before, but Johnny himself had told you he was the Emperor. Which, if true, meant Doyoung was his boss. So, one of them was lying. 

Stepping out of the elevator onto the bottom floor, you stealthily paced the corridors with the gun in your clasp and the phone to your ear, whispering, “Why didn’t you call me earlier?”

“I meant to, I really did, but after I checked in, all this crazy stuff started happening, and…,” Doyoung trailed off, confusing you. Until he added, “You have a gun?”

That voice didn’t only come from your phone; it came from behind. You whipped around in a blink, noticing Doyoung standing a few feet away, eyes widened in surprise. 

You hung up. You hadn’t seen Doyoung in person in years. He hardly looked any different. He still had deep, dark hair and that stern, chiseled face. And he still had this commanding aura to him that had made him so efficient as your leader. 

But you weren’t so confident about him anymore. Not after the interaction you’d just had. Johnny had planted doubts in your mind, even if you didn’t trust him either. You figured it was in your best interest to assume everyone was dangerous and a threat until proven otherwise. 

“I found it in one of the rooms,” you replied casually, but you stiffened as he stepped closer to you. “Why?”

Doyoung looked more alarmed than you had seen him since that godawful night so long ago. He whispered, “You need to give it to me. I think Johnny’s the Emperor.”

“What?”

“Why else would he kill the receptionist?” Doyoung asked, frantic. “I know you like him, maybe you love him, but this is important. We have to kill him before he kills us.”

You heard heavy footsteps coming from the staircase at the end of the hallway and drew your gun in preparation, but you were surprised to see that it was Johnny. And he looked equally as stunned to see you standing there next to Doyoung.

“Stay away from her, Johnny,” Doyoung spoke up, getting the first word in. He stood in front of you, as if he was defending you. 

“Whatever he’s been telling you, he’s lying,” Johnny told you hurriedly, panting for breath. “You can’t trust him. I told you, he’s the Emperor.”

Doyoung looked offended. “What the hell are you talking about? You’re the Emperor. You planned all of this to isolate us and get us alone, didn’t you?”

Johnny raised his voice, insisting, “Don’t listen to him, he’s lying. I told you who I am. Think about it, baby. Why would he bring you here and make it easier for you to die?”

Doyoung matched his energy and snapped, “I brought us here so we can decide collectively on a course of action. We’re stronger together than we are alone.”

Ignoring him, Johnny focused on you entirely and reasoned, “You’re more vulnerable together and you know it. You said it yourself that you’re being hunted down to the last man. Why go out of the way to assassinate you when he could just lead you into a death trap?”

“That’s not true,” Doyoung hissed. 

Johnny called out your name, shifting around Doyoung to make eye contact with you. He could see how your trembling hands clasped the weapon like it was your only lifeline. “Please. I’d never hurt you, you have to trust me on that. Give me the gun.”

Rolling his eyes, Doyoung said, “Come on. You’ve known me for years. Give me the gun and we can walk out of here and go home.” 

Something inside you burned furiously. You didn’t have a home. You’d considered home to be wherever Johnny was, but even that had fallen through. And you knew that if you walked out of here without him, you would have nothing left except the shadow of what you used to be. You had nothing left to lose. 

When you told Johnny that you were on the run, he had said, That’s like running from your shadow. And now more than ever, you realized he was right. You couldn’t keep doing this to yourself anymore. You needed to end the fight once and for all so that you could finally know peace instead of transience. 

“Enough!” you screamed, pointing the gun back and forth between both men. They startled, your raising voice making them still. “You can both go to hell.”

With that, you took off, sprinting up the stairs and hoping to lose them before they could even attempt to catch up with you. That was one of the many, many pitfalls of being a woman in a male-dominated world. You had to compensate somehow, and what you lacked in strength, you made up for in speed and wit. 

You just hoped it would be enough to save you. 

There were footsteps behind you. You couldn’t see them when you turned, but you never stopped moving. The only thing you knew was that you had to think of a way to get out of here, but going outside was far too risky. You didn’t know what was waiting for you out there nor were you even remotely curious. 

You cut down to the other staircase on the right hand side of the hallway, hoping to outsmart them. There were only a handful of floors, but there had to be some way to buy yourself more time to think. They wouldn’t expect you to go back down, would they?

When you made it safely to the bottom floor, you checked both ways like a child crossing the street before circling back to the main lobby. It was strangely empty. You wondered if anyone was here other than the three of you. Mark crossed your mind and a palpable fear began pumping through your veins. 

He had signed in. You knew that much. Walking down the corridor you had clocked upon entrance, you made a beeline for the bar, knowing no one would expect to find you there of all locations. But to be safe, you locked the door and released a shaky sigh. 

Your head was spinning. Your mind was scattered. Someone had emptied out the inventory, but neither Johnny nor Doyoung clearly had weapons of any kind. So who in the hell stole all the guns?

A sudden sound jolted you out of your mental headache. Your first thought was the door you’d locked, but no one was there. Then, you heard it again. It was a thud, coming from behind the door, as if there was something behind it that couldn’t get free. Like a trapped bird throwing itself against its cage. 

Your heart was thumping in your chest as you approached the storage room, wielding your weapon. You heard the thud again; it sounded like a kick, followed by muffled noises. There was someone back there. You felt a sudden chill sweep over your shoulders. 

Taking a deep breath, you counted to three under your breath before you yanked at the knob, throwing the door open. 

Mark fell over, having been leaning on the door, and dropped to his side.

“Mark,” you gasped, recognizing him in a heartbeat. He was familiar to you, even in this disheveled state. 

He said something, eyes wide as he glanced at you, but you couldn’t make it out. There was tape over his mouth. 

You sat him up, crouching down onto your knees. After you had gotten him upright, you looked into his eyes and warned, “This is gonna hurt like a bitch. I’m sorry.”

With no further warning, you ripped the tape straight off in one clean jerk. 

Mark recoiled in pain. “Goddamn!”

You winced, as if you were the one hurting. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Mark replied, exhaling a breath of relief. He looked like he was simply happy that you had found him and he didn’t die in that storage room, which you understood. You could finally relax knowing he was physically okay. 

As you cautiously undid the tape binding his arms and legs, not wanting to cause him any more discomfort than necessary, you asked, “Who the hell did this to you?”

Mark shrugged. He looked like he had been through hell and back without taking absolutely any detours. His skin was damp with sweat you could feel through his clothes. There was a faint patch of blood on his skin and you assumed he’d been attacked. “I don’t know.”

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“They came up from behind me while I was walking in the hallway,” Mark explained, stretching his limbs now that they were free. “I never saw their face. And when I came to, I was tied up in the closet.”

That only confused you even more. Obviously, there was something they didn’t want Mark to interfere with, but a bullet to the head seemed like a much more practical solution than tying him up and hiding his body. “Well, they didn’t kill you,” you pointed out. 

Mark nodded, sighing. “Yeah, but why?”

You sighed too. Like hell you knew. You had been expecting more bodies, more casualties. There no was no doubt you were grateful Mark wasn’t dead, but it still threw you off. “You were right.”

“Of course, I was,” Mark chirped, even though he had know idea what you were going on about. “So, what was I right about?”

“Johnny,” you told him quietly, almost like you were ashamed. Maybe you were. “He’s not what I thought he was. He’s one of us. And I was his sub.”

Mark gawked. A part of him had seen it like that coming, but it wasn’t like he had happily anticipated it. “Damn. I’m sorry.”

You tangled your hand through your hair, because now you were thinking about it and it was breaking your heart all over again. You had fallen six feet under for his deceit. The man you loved and thought you knew was just another proxy that had been contracted to take you out. Only this time, he had actually gotten close. 

“It gets worse,” you replied, forcing yourself to remember everything that had gone down in the past hour. “He claims to be Toxic. And he says that Doyoung is the Emperor.”

The first part seemed to surprise Mark more than the second and his brows knitted. “Wait, they sent Toxic after you instead of Backstabber? Why? I thought his function was just to poison people and leave. You guys have been together for months.”

“Why would he lie?”

Mark shrugged. “Maybe he’s the Emperor.”

You could literally feel your bones chilling. That was what Doyoung had said, and now Mark seemed to believe it too. You didn’t know what to think. “Johnny says Doyoung is the Emperor, but Doyoung says it’s Johnny. I don’t know who to trust.”

Marked mulled it over. There was a lot of catching up to do, all things considered. He shook his head, frowning. “What is your gut telling you?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered. You couldn’t even trust your instincts anymore, even after relying on them your whole life. Johnny had told you to trust your gut and kick everything else to the curb. But how could you when you didn’t know what it was trying to say?

You had learned to bridle it, but it never completely stopped. It became a whisper instead of a scream. And now there was a dull echo. 

“Come on,” Mark encouraged, grasping your shoulders. “Think. Forget everything you feel right now just for a second and think. You were in a unit with Doyoung for a year and you’ve spent the past however many months practically glued to Johnny’s hip. What did they say? How did they say it?”

You blinked. “Mark, I can’t.”

Mark shook his head. “Yes, you can. I know you want to move on from this life, but you never will if we can’t make it out of there. We need the clever assassin. Let her come out one last time and then kill her.”

You sucked in a breath, willing yourself to get back in shape. The clever assassin. The lethal proxy. The woman you thought was dead and buried. Now more than ever, you needed her back. One last time. “Someone shot the front desk lady. Uh, close range like Margo. Johnny was covered in blood. I thought it was him at first. Doyoung said he saw him shoot her with no mercy.”

“You said at first,” Mark pointed out. “Do you not think so anymore?”

You were reluctant for a minute, but you finally said, “They don’t have guns. They were both trying to convince me to give them mine, but I told them to fuck off.”

Mark was surprised. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Someone took all of the guns from the inventory, but I don’t know where they are, and they both looked desperate for a weapon. Which means someone else is here too. But Johnny couldn’t have shot the receptionist if he didn’t have the means.”

“So, Doyoung lied,” Mark concluded. 

You shrugged. It seemed like the whole room was reeling at this point. “I guess so.”

Mark mumbled something under his breath, likely in shock as he processed the new information. “Then, the only question left is what are they so scared of?”

“Or who,” you replied quietly. 

Mark stood up. The solution seemed obvious to him. “We gotta go.”

Your eyes followed him. “And do what? We need a plan if we’re going to go out in the open.”

Mark shook his head. “Are you serious? Doyoung is guilty as all hell. And that means he probably killed my sister. You have a gun. Let’s go put a bullet in his head and get the hell out of this dump.”

“Wait, Mark,” you replied, standing up and grabbing his arm. “Let’s just think about this for a little longer.”

“What’s left to think about?” Mark asked grimly. 

“Let’s say Johnny is telling the truth. He’s Toxic and Doyoung is the Emperor,” you started, lowering your reach to his hands. “That means they’re trying to kill each other even though they work together. Why?”

Mark shrugged his shoulders again. “No idea. What did Johnny tell you?”

You thought about that interaction you’d had with Johnny on the second floor, where he’d confessed to being complicit in the nightmare you were currently living. “He said that this trip was the only way to kill Doyoung, but I don’t get why he would want to kill his boss.”

“I do,” Mark replied. “Think about it. You’re Johnny’s sub. The cold case excluded, when has it ever taken you months to kill someone?”

Your lips were in a line. You didn’t want to entertain the idea that Johnny genuinely cared about you, because you didn’t want to be wrong. But he said it himself he had ample opportunity to leave you for dead. He never did. 

“Never.”

“Exactly,” Mark said. “He’s obviously stalling. If Doyoung is his direct boss and he’s been assigned to help pick us all off for being in that unit, he’s not gonna wanna go through with killing you, especially if he really loves you.”

You chewed that over. There was something about your affection for Johnny that triggered your fight or flight instincts in a way you’d never experienced before. You were stuck between a rock and a hard place, and it was suffocating. 

“It’s your call,” Mark told you, patting you on the shoulder. “We can always kill them both if that makes you happier.”

You laughed for the first time in a long time, but you knew that wasn’t what you wanted. You were just so scared. Fear was one of the most natural human emotions and yet you were so ashamed to be afraid. It made you feel out of control. “No,” you replied, shaking your head. “I think I know what I need to do.”

“Then, let’s go,” Mark said, waving you forward with his hand.

With one final breath, you nodded and silently followed Mark out of the bar through the double doors. You hoped you were making the right decision. This was beyond life or death. You weren’t afraid to die. You were afraid of dying alone. 

When in the hallway, there was a light in one of the rooms on the right side. You and Mark exchanged glances, noticing that the door was ajar. It looked like a laundry room, likely connecting to a sauna or pool. There were a bunch of white towels stacked on top of each other from what you could see.

“You go ahead. I’m gonna check this out,” Mark told you, distracted.

You narrowed your eyes. Did he seriously think you were going to leave him alone? He’d just barely survived being thrown into a closet to rot like an animal. “Mark, no. You don’t have a weapon. Come on, it’s just a closet.”

As if he didn’t hear a word you said, Mark walked off. “Five minutes.”

You shook your head in disbelief, but there was no opportunity to argue, because he had already disappeared. 

“Unbelievable,” you mumbled under your breath, disgruntled. That boy had a death wish. You were practically certain of it now. What had he seen that made him want to investigate instead of minding his own business? A ghost?

The more you walked into the lobby, the less confident you were beginning to feel. You couldn’t afford to be wrong. Even if you weren’t afraid of death, there were more lives at stake than just your own. You had Mark to take care of, even if he was perfectly capable of defending himself, and you had honor. 

It was everything in your world. You may not have been on a team anymore, but if there was anything the league did teach you other than how to be a lethal, unstoppable bullet no one would ever see coming, it was that you didn’t leave your family to die. And it was a principle you still followed despite your reproach for the network. 

With how you had grown up, taken under the wing of a hawk to become an even deadlier hawk, you knew there was no one you could really trust. Hardly even yourself. 

But you also knew that living life with no one really, truly by your side was lonely. 

You didn’t even need to look for Johnny. He was creeping down the hallway with quick, soundless steps, totally not looking suspicious. When his eyes locked on you, he went rigidly still. 

“Johnny,” you called out faintly. 

Johnny put his index finger up to his lip, shushing you, and approached you ever so slightly. With the gun in your grip and your evident distrust of him, he wasn’t taking any chances. His voice was light as a feather as he said your name. “I know I had you under the impression that I was some oasis away from this world and I apologize. I never wanted to hurt you. Ever.”

The sudden apology had you taken aback, even though you tried to stay on guard. It was hard when you were around Johnny. Your body was so used to being at ease when you were with him, not registering him as a threat. “You never hurt me.”

“I never hurt you,” Johnny repeated, knowing what you’d meant by that. He had never physically caused you any pain - not more than you’d bargained for, at least. “And I hope you can believe me when I say that I never plan to. If nothing else is, my feelings for you are real. The thought of hurting you alone makes me angry.”

You silently took his words in. They sounded so genuine, so affectionate. You were good at recognizing lies when you heard them, but it was clear by now that you were a little weak in that regard when you were blinded by emotion. Your judgment was clouded. 

Johnny glanced over his shoulder and continued, “That’s why I have to do this. That’s why I have to kill Doyoung. He knows that I won’t go through with the order and he won’t rest until one of us is dead.”

“That’s why you want the gun,” you replied, realizing Mark had been right. Johnny cared about you too much to let you die. 

Johnny looked over his shoulder again, like he was being watched. Or followed. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he was trying to stay clear of his boss. “Give me the gun and I can end this. We can meet my mom. We can go any place in the goddamn world. We can settle down if that’s what you want.”

Footsteps echoed in the halls. They weren’t coming from behind you, so you knew it wasn’t Mark. It was someone else. 

“Please,” Johnny replied, surprising you. You’d never heard him beg for a damn thing in the entire time you’d known him. 

You swallowed, weighing your options. There weren’t many. Either you gave him the gun or you kept it for yourself. You just couldn’t understand why he was so adamant on having it, if not to turn it on you at some point. “Why do you need the gun? Why can’t I do it?” you asked quietly. 

“I don’t want his blood on your hands.”

Your heart thumped with an intense, deep tremor. Those words were weirdly sentimental to you in a way that was inexplicable. He was willing to take the blame so that you wouldn’t have a mark on your back. You believed him. If Doyoung was the Emperor, that made him one of the most influential figures in the underground. His death would send shock waves through the league and likely even through the public. 

The syndicate would have its revenge. No one would take out its Emperor and not be penalized accordingly for it, but you thought about it some more. Not only would the lack of power weaken them, but there was a way to take advantage of the situation at hand. 

So you gave Johnny the gun, holding your breath. He accepted it. 

The footsteps drew closer, louder. Johnny pulled you behind him and whipped around. 

It all happened in a blink. 

A gunshot echoed out. Your ears rang from the loud noise and you shuddered, only vaguely remembering the last time you had heard something so deadly. You thought you would be numb. It used to feel like nothing. Right now, however, staring down at where the bullet had pierced Doyoung squarely between the eyes, the feeling in your chest teetered toward relief. 

“Damn,” Johnny replied, handing you back the gun. “I’m still a damn good shot. What can’t I do?”

It took you a second, but you managed a laugh. The sight was surreal, but something told you that you’d made the right choice. 

Johnny rubbed his temple. He was clearly relieved too. “Alright, trivia time. You were in a unit for a year tasked with knowing everything about us. What do you know about me?”

“Uh, you’ve been dealing with poison for at least a decade. You’re the best poison specialist in the league and you learned in America, but you do dirty business with chemists all over the globe so that there’s less of a trail, which has made you a super pain in the ass,” you replied, reciting everything you knew from memory. 

The longer you thought about it, the more sense it made. Johnny had been hiding in plain sight this entire time and you’d had no idea. The thought made you somewhat uneasy, but you also had to admit that you were impressed.

“You’re forgetting the part where I’m his right hand.”

You gawked. “You’re what?”

Johnny chuckled, glancing at Doyoung’s lifeless corpse with no remorse. “Well, I was two minutes ago, that is. I’m the Emperor now.” 

Now that was a surprise. You knew their functions, but you had never understood the exact hierarchy system in the syndicate. “Johnny, what the...”

Johnny looked more than enthusiastic to explain, but his gaze quickly became distracted. By the time you caught the flicker of motion that had stolen his attention, it was too late. 

You tensed when you heard another gunshot rang out in the hallway. You and Johnny instinctively both clung to each other, shuddering with the same fear. 

Sol slumped to the ground as quickly as he’d moved.

Mark stepped forward, panting. He pushed his hair out of his face, lowering the weapon he’d somehow gotten ahold of. “Found the guns,” he announced, scratching his head.

You sighed in relief, but your eyes were wide with confusion. Sol must have stolen them, not that that made any sense whatsoever. “I thought he was dead?”

“That’s what Doyoung told me,” Mark said, glancing between the two very dead, bleeding bodies on the floor. “Damn, that’s a clean shot.”

“Thank you,” Johnny chirped, simpering.

You shook your head, emptying the chamber of the gun you were holding and handing it over to Johnny. “Get this damn thing away from me.”

The grin on Johnny’s face turned upside down when he heard your tone. “Hey, it’s done. It’s over.”

Mark smiled, watching you both from afar. There was a bittersweet feeling in his heart at the thought of what he’d lost and the sight of what you’d gained. “It’s over,” he echoed. 

You nodded, holding onto Johnny like you would die without him. Though you still couldn’t help but notice he was still covered in blood. “So why are you wearing blood if you didn’t kill the lady at the front desk?”

“I got into a little fight with that guy. I had no idea you knew him,” Johnny replied, lifting his shirt and revealing a bloody gash. 

You gawked. “You got stabbed?”

Johnny laughed. “You didn’t notice, right?”

“You have a pain tolerance even a masochist would bitch about,” you said, shaking your head. “I should have known. You have all those tattoos.”

“Never trust a guy with tattoos,” Johnny said jokingly. 

You snickered. “No, absolutely never.”

Mark seemed to have finally caught his breath. “Hey, Johnny guy. So, there’s not a team of snipers sitting outside this place?”

Johnny shook his head. “Nah. Doyoung really had it out for you guys, wanted to kill you himself.”

Mark sighed. “Where does Sol fit in all this? Doyoung said he was poisoned.”

Johnny shrugged. “Doyoung’s lied to you guys a lot, even all those years ago. He was planting fake clues to lead you guys astray, but you were still getting closer than he thought you would. So he threw in the towel.”

Hearing that made you frown. You’d looked up to Doyoung, admired him even. You hated that things had to end this way. “So is Margo really dead?”

“Who? That girl in your unit you were talking about on the plane?” Johnny asked. “I don’t know.”

Mark’s face fell. 

Your heart ached. Untangling yourself from Johnny’s arms, you walked over to Mark and pulled him in for a hug. “Go,” you whispered. “Look for her.”

“I have a better idea,” Johnny said. “If we get somewhere with better service, I can ask my team. If she’s dead, one of them probably know. Doyoung hasn’t been telling me stuff anymore for obvious reasons.”

Mark glanced at Johnny from over your shoulder. “You’re serious, dude? You’d do that?”

“A friend of the woman I love is a friend of mine. I can do a small favor. I have to let them know Doyoung’s dead anyway.”

Your heart warmed, but a question lingered over your head as you released Mark, and you asked, “But won’t they bark when they find out you killed him?”

Johnny’s shoulders shook as he laughed. There was a very, very tiny possibility, but that was why he took the kill. “Who said they had to find out? Dead men tell no tales.”

It was your turn to laugh. No one ever had to know. You could keep a secret, especially if it meant you’d be free from this hell. “I guess that’s true,” you replied, nodding. “Dead men tell no tales.”

[ijwrsmff]

Venti, Zhongli, and Ei (separate) confessing to reader that they’re an archon?

I didn't know if you wanted it to be romantic but it's a lil bit romantic. Some cuteness and kisses XD

Thank you for requesting <3 Enjoy!

Word Count: 2,102

Venti:

You usually spend your nights at the bar, drinking significantly less than your companion. Venti could go through enough alcohol for the entire tavern to black out, but he always did it with a smile. It went a long way in keeping everything entertaining, and you found yourself often singing along to his silly songs he’d play on his lyre while dancing across the wooden floors. Tonight was a night like that, but he had something important to say. You could tell by the way he was quiet. That was never a good sign. 

It was early into the morning, and Diluc had finally kicked you both out. Venti rested his weight on you, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as he hummed softly to the beat in his head. The wind flowed around you both, and you headed to your favorite peak. You’d both sit there for endless hours, talk about anything and everything, and hold each other until you finally succumbed to sleep. Luckily there weren’t any other people hanging around, so it gave you both some privacy. 

Venti went quiet, and he let you help him sit down beside you. He kissed your cheek, and gave you his typical wide and mischievous grin. “Wanna know something cool?” His words weren’t as slurred as you expected, and you just nodded to let him continue. “I’m the archon of Mondstadt. I’m Barbados.” The words seemed teasing, but there was a hint of nervousness and vulnerability in his eyes. It was clear he was searching for some kind of emotion in your response. 

Completely certain he was joking, you laughed. But you paused when he looked away from you, not laughing with you. It made you stop, and look at him confused. “Huh? What kind of joke is this?” You fidgeted, and looked at him fully. He looked…shy almost. It was a stark contrast to his teasing nature, and it hit you that he was really telling the truth. At least he seemed to believe it. “Oh…” It was a pathetic response, and it took you a while to fully process the weight of his words. 

He pouted, before giving a mischievous smile. Venti leaned closer to you, and gave you a kiss. “That must make you pretty special considering how easily you made an archon fall for you.” He sighed, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. “Do you…believe me?” His head rested on your shoulder, and he cradled your arm against his chest. 

“It’s…kind of hard to imagine. But I’ve never heard you be this serious before…I don’t know.” You let him pull you closer, and you looked off the corner of the peak, simply taking in the sight as if you hadn’t seen it before. Your hand slid over, holding his hand in yours. Your fingers wrapped around his, and you brought it up to your face to plant small kisses along his knuckles. 

“I bet I can convince you.” He chuckled, and something about his tone had you worried for exactly how he planned to do that. “But you have to trust me. And you have to play nice!” The wind seemed to pick up, and he stood, bringing you with him. You stumbled, but he held you tight. “So…trust me…please.” He muttered, bringing you into a slow and passionate kiss before he grinned against your lips. 

With determination, you looked at him although slightly hesitantly, and spoke. “I trust you, Venti.” You squeezed his hand once more, and he placed his arm around your waist to hold you tightly. It made you squeak when he jumped, the wind carrying you higher until you glided over the side of the cliff. You screamed, but within seconds you had solid footing. 

Stormterror had flown under you, catching you both effortlessly as he soared through the sky. You gasped loudly, and looked at Venti…no…Barbados as he held you firmly in his grasp and laughed with childlike innocence. “Told you.” He said, as you quickly came to the conclusion. 

He really was your archon. While earlier he said that he’d fallen for you, and you always knew that was the case. But now…there was so much left to learn about him still. Because you fell for him as he fell for you, and it only brought you closer together. He had a special place in your heart, and your chest filled with pride and uncertainty, now knowing that you were in love with the archon. 

How many people got to say that?

Zhongli:

You were taken out to dinner with Zhongli…but really it was more like you took him out, given he didn’t pay for anything. It was a calm and peaceful conversation, but a thought nagged at your mind. He was sipping his wine, and closed his eyes as he took in the flavor. Now seemed as good a time as any to ask your question. 

“Hey…so I’ve seen you fight. You’re really strong, how is it you always have no money? Treasure hoarders and all that can get a ton of money. Why is it you never seem to have any?” You didn’t mean to sound accusatory, and waved your hands as you tried to explain. “I mean it’s no problem! I don’t mind paying for things, I just can’t buy stuff for you when I’m not in town and I worry about you…you know?” 

Zhongli opened his eyes, and looked at you with a thoughtful expression. He hesitated, before sighing and speaking clearly but quietly, as to not let the other people hear. “Because…I have never had a meaning for things as trivial as mora. As Morax, it was never needed. Though I suppose you’re right, I should be earning a living now that I’m free of the restraints and expectations of being an archon.” He leaned back slightly in his chair, and looked at you carefully assessing your emotions as you processed the weight of his words. 

Your jaw dropped, completely in shock at his confession. “You’re…you’re Morax?” It was a whisper, and you looked around quickly to make sure no one was listening. “How do I know you’re not messing with me?” It was a pathetic response, but you were racing through endless trains of thought as you remembered all the time you’ve spent with Zhongli. For some reason…him being Morax kind of made sense. It would certainly explain a lot of his beliefs and behaviors. 

“Do I seem the type to joke around like this?” He gave a soft smile, and knew your answer before you had to say it. “I tell you now, because I trust you. More than any other human or inhabitant of Teyvat.” He let out the softest of chuckles, and spoke earnestly. “Don’t think this changes anything between us. I care for you as much as I did before, though I would accept your rejection if that’s what you choose.” He spoke, in nearly a monotone voice as he tried not to let any strong emotions such as fear into his tone. 

“I care for you too…it’s just a lot to process.” You spoke genuinely, and your eyes darted to him. “I’ll need some time to get used to it, but I do still love you. I’m just…not sure where to go from here.” You idly messed with your hands, before returning to finishing your plate of food on the table. Though when he reached his hand out to hold yours, it paused your racing thoughts. 

“We have all the time in the world. This is new for me as well, so we can forge on and continue to learn from each other…to learn about each other.” He gave a smile, which nearly looked foreign on his usually calculating expression. Though you couldn’t deny how much it warmed your heart when he looked at you like that. 

It would be a long road, but you knew you were in it together. 

Ei:

Ever since the seemingly never ending war was over, things settled down nicely. There were still instances of rejection when it came to the new way Inazuma was ran, but overall it was peaceful. Getting used to so many new changes would take a while, but most of the citizens were willing to give it their all. In that time, you’d gotten close to a woman. She was kind, but guarded. You hadn’t seen her until a couple weeks after the battles had died down, but it was nice to see a new face. 

You talked about anything and everything, and she seemed intent on listening carefully to all of your stories. From childhood to now, it all interested her immensely. She didn’t talk about herself as much, but she did mention her close relationship with Yae Miko. You had only met her a couple of times, but it was amusing to you how opposite their personalities were. Once you asked questions about Yae Miko was really when Ei started to open up about herself, as well. 

Today, you were both resting under the sacred sakura at the shrine. You had prepared meals for you both, and found yourself laughing at Ei’s stories. She had been through a lot, but still spent time with you and smiled happily like it was her favorite thing to do in the world. You had both quickly realized you were drawn to each other, and decided that after several months of talking, this would be a sort of date. Ei smiled, and seemed overjoyed at the idea while trying to appear passive, while you grinned wide and held her hand. 

She seemed confused at the gesture, but didn’t pull away. In fact, it only made her scoot closer to you and hold your hand tighter. You talked on and on about how excited you were to have this date with her, and after a while you both fell into a comfortable silence. When you looked over, she was staring intensely at your hands. It made you tilt your head, and you tried to pull her out of her thoughts. 

“Hey…Ei, is something wrong?” You ran your thumb over the back of her hand and squeezed lightly to try and get her attention. “If something is wrong, you can tell me. I know you ask me about myself a lot, but I wanna know what you’re thinking too.” A wide smile spread across your face, and it made her look at you with a smaller smile on her own face. 

“I suppose that makes sense…I do have something I’d like to tell you, if you really want to get to know me better.” She smiled warmly, but looked back to your intertwined fingers and squeezed, almost as if to ground herself in the moment. She sighed, but looked at you with a serious and determined expression. “I’m…the Raiden Shogun. In a way. She’s a puppet created by me, and I’m the true archon of Inazuma.” Her expression remained stoic, and she hid any trace of emotion she may have had on her face.” 

Obviously, you were shocked, but nodded as you thought about all of your time spent together. “I understand…I don’t care for you any less. Inazuma was struggling, but everything is getting better now, so don’t beat yourself up over it. Inazuma is becoming a safer place, and I know you helped out with it more than anything. It’s okay to make mistakes, and I’m proud of how far you’ve come!”  You squeezed her hand tightly, and gave her a wide grin as you leaned in to hesitantly place a kiss to her cheek. 

“You’re taking this a lot better than I anticipated…not that I’m complaining.” She paused, thinking about her words carefully. Though as you leaned in to kiss her cheek, she turned and gave you a proper kiss. “I may not have had enough strength before, but knowing you has given me more than the heavenly principles. I know I can do anything with you by my side.” She reached over, and cupped your cheek in her hand as she leaned in for another kiss. 

You weren’t expecting something so cheesy to come out of her mouth, but all it served to do was cause you to swell with euphoria. The smile on your face only widened as she kissed you, and you found yourself leaning into the kiss. You weren’t strong, not by a long shot. But if anything…you knew you had Inazuma’s archon to stay by your side and protect you from anything. 

You were safe with her, and you always would be. 

[creamflix]

nanami kento x reader; established relationship. mentions of gojo's version, but can be read without context. lots of fluff. mentions of makeup #boyfriendmaterial men!! — masterlist here ☆ part one (choso ver.) ☆ part two (sukuna ver.) ☆ part three (gojo ver.)

nanami leans against the doorframe, watching you with an almost serene expression as you sit at your dresser, expertly applying your makeup in front of the mirror. there’s a quiet comfort in the way you focus, blending eyeshadow with practiced ease, the little smile on your face reflecting a sense of contentment. he’s always understood the importance of makeup, recognizing that it doesn’t imply anyone feels ugly; it’s simply a way to accentuate features and express oneself.

but as he takes in the scene, his gaze drifts over to your collection of products. he notices a few are running low, the telltale signs of well-loved items clearly visible. you’ve always been the type to use every last drop of product, refusing to waste anything, and while he appreciates that about you, it’s a bit silly to him. why not just get a new one?

with that thought lingering, kento decides it’s time to take action. he wants to surprise you by restocking your essentials, but in a moment of weakness, he makes the mistake of texting gojo for advice.

you [5:43 pm]: hello, i need help finding some makeup for my partner. what is a good brand for foundation and mascara?

he types, his brow furrowing slightly at the thought of gojo’s inevitable over-the-top responses.

the moment he sends it, he’s hit with a wave of regret. gojo has a knack for turning the simplest requests into something absurd. as he stands there waiting, he can only imagine what sort of nonsense his friend will come up with.

a few minutes later, his phone buzzes with gojo’s reply.

gojo s. [5:45pm]: foundation? go for estée lauder’s double wear 😩 and for mascara, you can’t go wrong with too faced’s better than sex. but if you REALLY wanna impress her, just get her everything from THAT brand, like, TWO of each product. she’ll love it! 😼

kento sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “two of each product? seriously?” he mumbles under his breath, shaking his head. he can already picture your reaction —half amused, half exasperated.

instead of going along with gojo’s suggestion to buy two of everything, nanami kento took a different approach. he spent hours researching the best makeup products and brands, delving into the intricacies of formulas and properties. he even installed tiktok, scrolling through countless makeup reviews and tutorials to understand what would be perfect for you.

“okay, so for lip gloss, the fenty beauty gloss bomb has been getting good reviews,” he muttered to himself as he jotted down notes. “and the buxom full-on plumping lip cream is supposed to be really hydrating...” he paused, watching a video where a makeup enthusiast demonstrated the glossy finish of a particular product. “looks like it’s a fan favorite for a reason.”

he made sure to take notes on everything, carefully considering different products for foundations, blushes, and eyeshadows, ensuring he understood why they were popular and what made them special. lightweight, buildable coverage, long-lasting formula... he thought, his brows furrowing in concentration as he wanted to get this right for you.

one late afternoon, as he was flipping through a few more reviews, he heard you rummaging through your drawers in the other room. “kento! i think i ran out of lip gloss!” you called out, a hint of frustration in your voice.

your voice broke his concentration, and he set his phone down, heading towards your shared bedroom with a slight frown. he found you peering into your makeup drawer, hopeful to find a sample or a tester that would save the day.

before you could continue your search, kento stepped into the room, placing a neatly packed sephora bag on the dresser with a soft thud. “here,” he said, trying to hide his smile as he watched your expression shift from annoyance to curiosity.

you blinked at him, tilting your head. “what’s this?”

“it’s a little something i picked up for you,” he replied, crossing his arms, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. “i did some research and thought you might like what’s inside.”

with a hint of disbelief, you approached the bag and pulled it open, your eyes widening as you began to sift through the contents. “no way! kento, you got me fenty lip gloss?”

“yeah, and a few others,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice. “i thought you might enjoy trying out some new products.”

you grinned, your frustration forgotten as you pulled out the glossy tubes, practically vibrating with excitement. “this is amazing! you didn’t have to go all out like this.”

“i wanted to,” he replied, watching you closely. “i know how much you love makeup, and it’s nice to see you enjoying it.”

as you examined the glosses, you noticed a familiar name on one of the boxes — “and you even got the buxom one! how did you know?”

he shrugged, a hint of a smirk on his lips. “let’s just say i’ve done my homework. gojo’s suggestion to buy two of everything wasn’t quite the direction i wanted to go, so...”

you laughed, shaking your head in disbelief. “you actually got tiktok to research? that’s dedication, kento.”

“i just wanted to make sure you’d love it,” he said, his voice softening as he stepped closer. “and besides, it was surprisingly interesting.”

your heart swelled at his thoughtfulness, and you couldn’t help but lean up to peck his cheek. “thank you. this means a lot.”

“just don’t forget to share the gloss when you run out,” he teased, and you both chuckled, knowing you’d never let it get that far.

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