#I hate that so here is the good ending for it
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Marvel's Squirrel Girl: The Unbeatable Radio Show! | All of Erik Lehnsherr's Call-In's
Episodes featured: The Fate of My Universe The Sinister Six Are No More Who Would Win In A Fight? Unbeatable
Full Podcast Playlist (Spotify)
Credits below:
Written by: Ryan North
Directed by: Giovanna Sardelli
Voice Cast: Milana Vayntrub - Squirrel Girl/Doreen Green Crystal Lucas Perry - Nancy Whitehead Leo Sheng - Koi Boi/Ken Shiga Davied Morales - Chipmunk Hunk/Tomas Lara-Perez Erica Schroeder - Tippy T. Squirrel Rob Nagle - Erik Lehnsherr
Key Art: "Squirrel Girl Infinity Comic (2022)" by Derek Charm - Doreen, Nancy, Ken, Tomas, Tippy "Magneto (2023)" by Todd Nauck - Erik
#marvel#x-men#squirrel girl#magneto#cherik#i'm not tagging everyone im too drunkf rothat#i dont have a tag for vids DAMIt> this gon be my only oen#snap chats#HERE IT ISS !!!!! FINALLY !!! LIKE FOUR MONTHS IN THE MAKING <- was just too lazy to do it#i thought id focus on work all day but OOPSIEE !!!!!!!!! i was too inspired#legally had to use nauck's art that's another goat of mine ... i love his style sm its so cute and expressive and bold...#theres small things in this that bother me but whatever ive literally done this all day#im posting it and moving on#im forcing you to reblog this. DO IT#i kept giggling while makign this cause mags is so funny ....#im still crying at him being like 'yeah i said i was never going back AND I MEANT IT'#also doreen a cherik shipper ...... queen behavior i always knew it#PLEASE ENJOY !!! IM BEGGING YOU !!!! im pinning this to my blog idc this took forever#also his call ins are genuinely so funny i love him so much. my silly peepaw.....#take a shot every time he says 'charles' tho i swear to god#i was actually going to do that tongiht but Legit the amount of whiskey i had was not enough HE SAYS CHARLES SO MUCH#im ending the tags here so i dont go on a rant about how in love mags is with charles. enoug..#NOT EVEN A PODCAST SERRIES IS SAFE FROM CHERIK IM CRYINGGGGGG#they will makethemselves a probelm to EVERYONE#'please dont be evil' he'll be worse. he'll be needy jLVKAJ ERIK IS SO NEEDY IM CRYING#ok i think thats all i have to sya . im a lil tipsy so i cant think right#WAIR I REMEMBER I WANTED TO CRY ABOUT ERIKS STPID 'SWEETOOTH' JOKE I HATE HIM !!!! <- deeply in love with him#'snap you said you were drinking like ten minutes ago are you fr' dont look at me. GOOD NIGHT !!!
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(please) spare me indignity
pt 3
pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader
summary: you and spencer spend more time together. it's bad, then it's good, then it's something else altogether.
a/n: continuing the gideon!reader series! a whole lot of this is arguing because they love each other fr. sorry this took so long, for some reason i had a really hard time finding my footing here but i hope you enjoy!! reader is a victim of the sassy man apocalypse bc this may be s1/2 spencer but he is not going to not be standing up for himself!! have this new banner that i made to try and help with my inspiration. title is from nothing new by rio romero
wc: 5k
warning(s): r and spence argue some more. angst, hurt w/o comfort, then hurt with comfort! idk theyre kinda sweet
You and Spencer spend the next six and a half hours watching movies.
You make it through Goodfellas and you only tell him to be quiet twelve times. You take a break to get water and make popcorn, which was so generously provided in your grocery supply, and while you’re doing it, Spencer insists on picking the next one. You end up watching Psycho, and you don’t think he lets a single scene go by without explaining the meaning behind it.
You choose Notting Hill after, and he knows just as much. He picks Halloween—it doesn’t really help your stalker anxieties, and Spencer apologizes profusely when you bring it up, but you still end up finishing it. Next you go for Pointe Grosse Blank, then Spencer picks Kolya, a Russian film that he specifically put into the box.
There are subtitles, but he spends half the time translating for you anyway—apparently there are nuances to the script that an English translation doesn’t get compared to the original Russian, and that would be a tragedy.
He’s in the middle of his third rant going on seven minutes when you finally break.
“Okay,” you say as you reach for the remote, “I can’t do this anymore.”
You do a double take when your hand meets another instead of hard plastic, and you see Spencer beat you to it. You pull your hand away as soon as possible, feeling your face heat from annoyance.
“What are you doing?”
“What are you doing?” he echoes. “The movie’s not over yet.”
“I can’t take any more of your rambling,” you say. “I’m cutting you off.”
He frowns. “We have to finish the movie first.”
“What are you, a broken record?”
“I couldn’t be a broken record because I said two different things,” he protests. “Besides, what else are you going to do?”
“Unpack my things? Read a book? Sit in silence staring at the wall in my room?” You shrug as you stand up and walk over to the kitchen. “I’ve got a lot of options.”
“Gideon told me not to let you out of my sight,” Spencer says, standing up as well.
“You can see me pretty well from there,” you say. “You don’t have to invade every bit of my privacy.”
“I— I kind of do,” he says. “The whole point of a safe house is to keep you safe. If you’re off doing your own thing, it’s not really safe.”
“It’s not like I’m leaving!” You throw up your hands in exasperation. “What, are you going to sleep with me too? Make sure I don’t go anywhere in the middle of the night?”
It’s almost funny how fast his face flushes bright red. You’ve got a feeling he doesn’t have a lot of experience with this sort of thing.
“That’s what I thought,” you say. “Keep watching your movie if you want. Just leave me alone.”
You feel his eyes on your back as you storm off to your room. The childish part of you wants to slam the door, but you decide to throw Spencer the smallest bone and leave it open.
It’s not his fault that you hate him, and that just makes you hate him even more. He gets to come out of this the bigger person, a saint for putting up with your various deficiencies while keeping you safe from a stalker. You’re just the difficult, ungrateful, estranged bastard daughter of the most deified man in the Behavioral Analysis Unit who can’t set her personal grudges aside for her own good.
You shove your duffel bag into the bed with a little too much force. You unzip it, deciding to try and occupy yourself with unpacking. You’re here for the indefinite future, so you might as well make yourself at home.
You can’t help the dry laugh that comes at the thought. You don’t know if you’ve ever felt at home anywhere.
This might be the worst thing about this whole situation. You’ve got a stalker out there, and it’s making you do all this bullshit introspection against your will. It’s got you thinking about your dad and your relationship with him, and thinking about Spencer Reid and how he’s replaced you in your father’s life without even really knowing about it because he didn’t know about you until he walked into your dad’s office a month ago.
Ten minutes pass in a blur before you’re knocked out of it by a rapping on your door. You turn to see Spencer standing in the doorway, expression unreadable.
“What?” you ask.
“You’ve been quiet,” he says. “I’m just checking in.”
“I’m still alive,” you say. “Nothing exciting happened in the five seconds I was gone.”
“It was ten minutes and thirty two seconds, actually,” he says. “But— but good.”
Again, more silence passes between you. You look up at him from your pile of clothes after thirty seconds.
“Are you just going to stand there?”
“I— I don’t know what else to do,” he stammers.
“Didn’t you say you did something like this before?” you ask. “Guarded some girl from her stalker?”
Spencer nods. “She was a lot easier to get along with.”
You roll your eyes. “Somebody out there wants to kill me to get back at my dad. Sorry that I’m not the pinnacle of happiness.” You make a point to avoid his gaze. “But what I’m trying to say is that you’ve done this all before. You should have some kind of idea of what to do besides bothering me.”
“How am I bothering you?” Spencer asks in exasperation. “I’ve said three sentences to you!”
“Everything you do bothers me, boy genius,” you say. “I thought you would have figured that out by now.”
“I—” He looks like he wants to say more, but instead he just clamps his mouth shut and shakes his head before he walks away.
You stare down at your pile of clothes, largely unfolded and scattered around the bed. The silence doesn’t give you the satisfaction you thought it would.
It only lasts for all of thirty seconds though, and you don’t have time to linger in the discomfort—you hear footsteps, heavier ones this time, and you look up to see Spencer round the corner once again.
“What is your problem with me?” he blurts out.
You frown. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Spencer nods. “You hate your dad, fine— but he’s not here for you to fight with, so you’re taking it out on me. It’s classic displacement, and you don’t get to take it out on me.”
“Why not?” you ask.
“Because it— it’s not fair!” he sputters. “I didn’t do anything to you— I didn’t even know you existed until a month ago!”
“Well, gosh, boy genius,” you say, “I’m sure you’re smart enough to figure it out yourself.”
“Stop calling me boy genius!” he exclaims. “We’re the same age!”
“Then stop acting like one,” you retort. “I know you’ve got a psychology degree, but you don’t need to use them on me whenever you can.”
He frowns, his mouth opening for a second before he closes it.
“Were you going to ask how I knew that before you realized the obvious answer?” you ask.
“No,” he says.
“Yes, you were.” You continue folding your clothes. “You went to Caltech, MIT, and Yale, even though it was your safety school. You’ve got three PhDs, two BAs, and you’re working on a philosophy degree, but you’re not done with it yet.” You shrug. “A little difficult to make it to classes with all the FBI stuff.”
“…Does he really talk about me that much?” Spencer’s voice is quieter than it was before.
“Oh, yeah,” you say. You set a finished pair of jeans to the side then look at him. “I graduated from college too. Granted, it was a couple years ago, not when I was 17, but I think it still warrants a little support.”
“You went to George Mason,” Spencer says.
Your movements stutter. You weren’t expecting him to actually know.
“Yeah,” you say. Your heart skips a beat. “How do you know?”
Has he talked about you to the team before? Sure, they didn’t know you existed before you showed up out of the blue, but maybe he showed them a picture after it happened. Your mom carries one of you in your cap and gown in her wallet—maybe he got a hold of one and Spencer caught a glimpse of that. Maybe you just missed it and he does have a picture of you on his desk. Maybe—
“You have a sweatshirt for it,” he says with a gesture. You look where his finger is pointing, and sure enough, your GMU sweatshirt is tangled up with a couple of other crewnecks.
“…Of course,” you say. You don’t know why you even dared to hope. “Because it’s more likely that you’d notice something like that than it is for my dad to talk about me.”
Spencer says your name, and you hate the sympathy in it.
“No.” You cut him off before he can get any further. “Don’t try to defend him. You know,” you huff a cold, humorless laugh, “he missed my graduation, too. Two separate dates for commencement and my actual school’s ceremony, one 45 minute car ride, and he couldn’t make it to either one.”
“You don’t know how busy we are,” Spencer tries again. “We work weekends and holidays and around the clock— sometimes we get called in at 3am to stay in some random town for weeks at a time, and there’s nothing we can do about it! I— I mean, we’ve had three days off in the past 47 days and—”
“That’s why I have a problem with you!” you cry out, throwing the shirt in your hand onto your bed as you turn to face him. “Because I’m twenty-four years old, and I’ve lived an hour away from my dad for the past six years, but his team that he spends all his time with didn’t even know I existed until I showed up at your office.” You take a step forward, anger resurging inside of you. “Because I threw away a chance at an Ivy to get to see him more, just to deal with the same bullshit as usual. Because I worry about him dying every single day he’s in the field, and he can’t even give me a phone call at the end of it all—” another step forward— “and even in the middle of this shitshow, you think you have a right to defend him— to- to tell me how to feel about him!”
You move even closer, close enough to see his wrinkled button-up is partially untucked, his lips are slightly parted, and his stupid doe eyes—that haven’t left yours—with his stupid dilated pupils, and you jab your finger in his chest.
“Because all I ever wanted is my father’s affection,” your voice breaks, and you hate the way it makes you feel, “and he’d rather build an entirely new life with an entirely new kid than give it to me.”
You push your way past him, making sure to shoulder-check him on your way out. You don’t look back as you forge your way to the bathroom (that you unfortunately have to share), even though his gaze burns into your back.
You close and lock the door. It’s childish, you know, but you need to be alone right now. You can’t stand to be around him.
Spencer just— he irritates you in a way that no one else ever has. He’s your age and more accomplished than you could ever dream to be, with almost six times the degrees and a much better job, and probably a family that loves him. Who wouldn’t love him with everything he’s done?
You, apparently.
You plant your hands on the countertop as you stare into the mirror. Your usual dark circles have become more pronounced over the past month, and you can’t help a wry laugh at the thought. All that trouble sleeping and it was for the wrong damn reason.
If you knew someone was watching you, you would have moved out of Virginia months ago. But maybe this bastard would have found you anyway. If Spencer’s profiling is right and he’s going after you because of your dad, you don’t think much could really dissuade him.
Tears pool at your waterline, and you wipe them away with a rough hand before they can manifest into something more. You slump back against the opposing wall as you continue to stare at yourself.
You’re pathetic and you can’t even find it in yourself to care.
You hear the sound of footsteps once more and you wrap your arms around your midsection. This chill won’t go away.
“…Are you still alive?” a hesitant voice calls.
You bite back a remark. “I’m fine.”
“You’re sure?”
“No.” You don’t know what makes you answer honestly.
A beat of silence passes. You really do feel like a kid. You’re talking to him through the door because you just yelled at him and Spencer is still being the bigger person.
“Can I help at all?”
This answer comes a little quicker. “No.”
Again, more silence.
“Okay.” Spencer pauses, and the footsteps start again. His voice is a little closer the next time he speaks. “Just… let me know when you’re turning in. So I know you’re still alive.”
You huff. He can’t even stick to his guns and hate you like you hate him for ten minutes. “I don’t think I’ll be dying anytime soon.”
“You never know,” he says. “Spontaneous human combustion might not be proven beyond pseudoscientific concepts, but there’s a first time for everything.”
The laugh that comes out of you is unexpected, both in its lightness and occurrence at all. “Keep an ear out for the smoke alarm, then.”
“If you smell anything burning, stop, drop and roll,” he says. “Make sure you don’t run. All it’ll do is add to the oxygen and feed the fire.”
“Okay,” you say. “…I still don’t like you.”
You swear you can hear the smile in his words. “I know.”
-
You wake up when the smoke alarm goes off.
It’s a very rude awakening. It jolts you out of your very uneasy sleep to unfamiliar surroundings—in your disoriented state, you almost forget where you are.
Right. You’re in a safe house in the middle of nowhere because someone is stalking you. How could you possibly forget?
You stumble out of bed, rubbing your eyes to try and assuage some of your exhaustion as you leave your room.
“Is the place on fire?” you ask through a yawn.
“No!” Spencer exclaims, sounding more panicked than usual. That straightens your back and speeds your pace. “No, everything’s fine—”
You smell smoke, and as you come around the corner, you see him waving his hands overtop the toaster trying to dispel said smoke. You can’t help but laugh, and you actually smile when he gives you the most helpless look.
“I’m so good at so many other things.”
“What are you trying to do?” you ask wryly. “Burn this house down to try and get a better one?”
“This wouldn’t have started a fire,” Spencer says. “Toaster fires usually spread because they’re below wooden cupboards, which catch easily and spread everywhere else.” He gestures at the toaster, which he has plugged in to an outlet on the side of the island. “No cupboards, no house fire.”
“You started this because you were making toast?” you ask.
He flushes. “I’m used to the toaster I have at home. I have the settings worked out perfectly there. This one is all wrong.”
You sigh and shake your head. “Just… hit the reset button, and open the door. It’ll be fine.”
“I can’t open the door,” he says. “It goes against the safety thing.”
“Then open a window.”
“Making it easier to get in here in any way goes against the safety thing,” he says.
“So we have to just deal with the smoke?” you ask in exasperation.
Spencer hits the vent button on the microwave, and the fan whirs into action. “No?”
You shake your head in disbelief as he then reaches up to hit the button on the smoke alarm. His t-shirt lifts with the movement—your eyes drift to the bare strip of skin, and you immediately look away when you realize.
“Where’s the coffee in here?” you ask, clearing your throat as you start sifting through drawers. “I’ll be even worse to deal with if I don’t have caffeine.”
“I already brewed a fresh pot,” Spencer says, gesturing with his head. “Half and half is in the fridge, and sugar is in the cabinet.”
“Oh,” you say. You stop what you’re doing, your hands lingering above the drawer handle. “You didn’t have to do that.”
You see him shrug out of your peripherals. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Because I was a total asshole to you last night, you want to say. Because I’ve been awful to you since I met you and you refuse to fight back and give me a better reason to hate you.
“Because you didn’t need to,” you finally say. Good one.
“I did. So you’re going to have to deal with it.” Spencer takes the burnt toast out and throws them in the trash can, talking while he does it. “You know, it’s actually a rumor that burnt toast contains carcinogens and can increase the chance of cancer. Acrylamide forms when you burn food, but researchers haven’t found a link between starchy foods with high amounts of acrylamide and cancer.”
You hum in some form of acknowledgement as you take a mug out of the cabinet and fill it from the pot. You take a sip and grimace—it’s not the best, but it’s caffeinated. After three years of shitty gas station coffee throughout college, you can deal with it.
“How did you sleep?” Spencer asks.
“Fine,” you say.
He frowns. “Really?”
“Yes,” you say, a little rougher. “The dark circles come with the model.”
“There are a lot of causes other than sleep deprivation,” Spencer says. “Contact dermatitis, hyperpigmentation, dehydration, alcoholism, stress—”
“Got plenty of that,” you interrupt.
“Even genetics can play a part in it,” he says.
You huff. “I think this is one thing I can’t blame my dad for. I haven’t slept since the nineties.”
“Well, you should try,” Spencer says. “The blood vessels around your eyes don’t constrict like they should when you’re sleep deprived, which means your blood vessels dilate, which increases blood in the area, and that gives you dark circles.”
“Wow,” you say wryly. “I really look that bad with them?”
“I— that—” Spencer’s face flushes red as he stutters, and you hide the slightest smile with your mug— “that’s not what I mean! I’m just trying to give advice to help—”
“I know.” You set your mug back down, not able to fully bite back your amusement. “I was joking, Spencer.”
“Oh,” he says. “That’s… new.”
“Am I not allowed to joke?”
“It just doesn’t seem like you,” Spencer says. “Especially after last night.”
“I’m too tired to fight with you right now,” you sigh. “Enjoy your break.”
He clears his throat as he takes two fresh pieces of bread out, then looks at your mug. “You drink it black?”
“It’s not coffee if you don’t,” you say. “It— it’s a sugary mess.”
“It is not!” he exclaims. “It still has the same amount of caffeine, and it’s still coffee—”
“No it isn’t!” you laugh, and you nod at his mug. “How much sugar did you put in there?”
“A couple spoonfuls but—”
“Spoonfuls?”
“But it’s how I like it!” Spencer defends.
“Don’t you have some facts about how harmful excessive sugar consumption is?” you ask.
“Of course I do,” he says. “I also have some about the benefits of black coffee, but I’m not going to tell you now.”
“Wow,” you say. “I’m so hurt.”
He shakes his head as he slots two more pieces of bread into the toaster. “And to think, I was trying to make breakfast for you.”
Again, that gives you pause. Why does he keep trying to do nice things for you?”
“Don’t bother.” You pick up your mug and go into the living room. “I don’t really eat breakfast anyways.”
“That’s not healthy,” he calls after you.
“Most things I do aren’t,” you respond. “What’s on the agenda today?”
“Skipping breakfast puts you at a higher chance of heart disease,” he says.
“Then I guess we won’t have to worry about the spontaneous combustion, will we?” You look back at him. “What’s on the agenda?”
Spencer sighs. He’s given up momentarily, it seems. “Gideon’s going to call me in thirty-two minutes for an update. The whole team has been focusing solely on your case.”
You perk up. The coffee warms your hands through the mug but it doesn’t fully assuage the chill down your spine.
“Do they have any leads?”
“I don’t know,” Spencer says. “Gideon hasn’t called me yet.”
You roll your eyes. “Do you think they have any leads?”
“Maybe.” The toaster pops and he pulls the bread out, then starts buttering it—or trying to. His brow knots in annoyance at the stick of butter, still hard, and he pushes his glasses up with his free hand. You have to look away. “Like I said, Gideon helped start the BAU. He’s solved more cases than anyone else, and,” you feel his eyes on you, “it’s personal this time. He’s probably working around the clock.”
“Just have to hope they get somewhere,” you murmur. Your coffee tastes even more bitter than usual, but you drink it anyway.
“They will,” Spencer says. “I promise.”
“Y��know, people keep making promises they can’t keep,” you say. “I’m getting real tired of it.”
“Well, I’m not leaving your side until they do,” he says. “And I’m going to keep you safe. So consider that promise kept.”
“Great,” you say. “I’m stuck with you until I die or this is solved.”
“You’re not going to die.”
“You don’t have to take everything I say so seriously.”
“Then don’t say everything so seriously.”
You huff a laugh and shake your head. Spencer comes over with his plate of messily buttered toast—not very easy with fully solid sticks of butter—and sits down across from you. He holds the plate out.
“Want one?”
“I told you, I don’t eat breakfast.”
“You should.”
“Because one piece of toast will make so much of a difference,” you mock.
“It will,” he says. “Maybe it’ll even make you happier.”
You roll your eyes and drink more of your coffee. “Are you going to bother me all day like this?”
Spencer took a bite of toast then shrugged. “If you’re this blase about everything relating to your health, then yes.”
You groan as you stand up. “It’s too early to deal with you. See you in a few hours.”
“And good morning to you too,” Spencer says wryly. You make a parting gesture with your hand in response.
It’s been a day and a half, and not only have you argued with him twice, but he still refuses to give you anything to work with, still insists on trying to be there for you. It’s as infuriating as it is gratingly admirable. Anyone else probably would have tried to kill you by now.
Well, you’ve already got a stalker trying to do that.
You sigh and down half your coffee. You’ve got a long day ahead of you.
-
Spencer doesn’t know why you not liking him bothers him so much.
It’s illogical, but it makes sense for you. Your dad spends more time with him than he does with you, and you’re projecting your hatred for Gideon onto Spencer. Whatever.
But it’s not just whatever, and that irks him.
This is an assignment, simple as that. Gideon trusted him enough to put you under his protection, even if it’s for your mental health more so than your physical. It should be a point of pride, being chosen for something like this by someone like Gideon.
Spencer presses his fingers against his temple. You’re a lot, there’s no way around it. But you also claim to hate him, and he knows that’s not true.
Yes, you argue with him. Yes, you’re short with him. Yes, he lost his temper momentarily because not even Spencer is capable of endless grace.
But he also sees your moments of lightness throughout it all. Your brief smiles, the quips that lean towards jokes more than insults—and he notices your eyes, and the brightness that breaks through on occasion.
He always notices your eyes.
Spencer’s phone rings in his pocket, jolting him out of whatever reverie he found himself in. He pulls it out and flips it open, then presses it to his ear. “Gideon?”
“Reid,” he greets. “How are you doing?”
“Fine,” he says. “You’re calling twenty-four minutes early.”
“We just finished a briefing,” Gideon says. “I wanted to get word to you as soon as possible.”
Spencer sits up. “What is it?”
“Morgan, Hotch, and Garcia have been working together to comb through my past cases and see what they’re up to now. They finally found a potential unsub,” he says. “Someone I put away a decade ago was released last year, and recent records indicate he’s back in the area.”
“Who is it?” he asks.
“Adam Hernandez. Also known as—”
“The Stafford Strangler,” Spencer finishes. “He killed three people in two weeks in the 90s—classic spree killer. You caught him with David Rossi’s help.”
“Released on good behavior, despite the victims’ families campaigning against it,” Gideon says. “You know it?”
“Obviously,” he says. “I’ve read all of your old case files.”
Gideon chuckles, and he can almost imagine him shaking his head. “Of course you have.”
“Do you think Hernandez is your guy?” Spencer asks.
“I’m not sure yet,” Gideon says. “We applied for a warrant—as soon as we get it, Morgan and Elle are heading his way to ask a few questions.”
“You think he’d do something like this?” Spencer shifts his position as he frowns. “Hernandez got fired, lost his house, then went off the deep end. He killed because he didn’t see any other solution. The guy going after your daughter is a lot more emotional about all this, and—” his throat feels dry all of a sudden— “and it’s like he’s got some kind of attraction to her.”
“You don’t need to remind me,” Gideon says roughly. “We’re going for leads where we can, and we’re still working every other angle. It doesn’t end with Hernandez.”
“...Good,” Spencer says. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help from here.”
“You’re already doing everything I need you to do.” Gideon pauses, and he hears the creak of the chair in his office as he adjusts how he’s sitting. “How is my daughter doing?”
“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “Her mood changes with the wind. One second she’s trying to start a fight with me, the next she’s trying to joke around with me. It— it’s a lot, I won’t lie.”
“But how is she handling all of this?” he asks. “Staying in the safe house, dealing with a stalker, feeling like a sitting duck.”
“Very cynically,” Spencer says. “She keeps talking about dying or getting killed.”
Gideon sighs. “That sounds like her.”
“She’s… she’s mad at you, mostly.” Spencer picks at a hangnail, ignoring the sharp, temporary pain. “Every time I bring you up, it lights a fuse. You’re the one thing she hates to talk about.”
There’s nothing but silence on the other end.
“Gideon?” he asks. “Did I lose—”
“I’m here,” he interrupts. “Just… thinking.”
“It’s not your fault,” Spencer says. “She’s—”
“It is my fault,” Gideon interrupts again. “Has she told you much about her younger life?”
“...Some,” Spencer says.
“Like?”
Spencer doesn’t really know what to say. He doesn’t want to just tell Gideon that you’ve told him he’s been an awful dad. That it’s really all you’ve told him.
“You can say it, Reid,” Gideon says. “I won’t get mad.”
“...She says you’ve missed out on her whole life,” Spencer finally says, notably quieter. “Her high school graduation, her college graduation— most of the stuff that happened in college, actually.”
Gideon lets out a rough sigh. “I’ll always regret it.”
“So it’s true?” Spencer asks. He’s surprised at the sharpness of his voice.
“I don’t get to control when cases come in,” he says.
“We’re a whole team of qualified agents,” Spencer says. “We— we always have been. Especially when you and Rossi were together. It was like the golden age of profilers.”
“Spencer—”
“You made it to my graduation!” he interrupts. “You were there for my chemistry PhD, and you said you would be there when I get my philosophy degree, but you couldn’t make it for your only child’s high school and college graduations?”
“I already told you I regret it,” Gideon says. His voice is as calm as ever, and for some reason, that irks Spencer even more. “What more can I say? It’s in the past now. I can’t change what I did.”
Spencer stares at the wall. He doesn’t know why this is such a damning thing to him.
His own dad has missed all of his graduations. He’s missed almost every part of his life. But his dad walked out—he wanted nothing to do with Spencer or his mom.
Your dad is right here. Gideon is still around, working every day to save lives and change the world and take down monsters—but he’s still not there for you.
He’s so close and yet he always steps out of your reach.
“Spencer.” Gideon’s voice is tinny through the speaker, and he presses his phone back against his ear.
“Call me back the second you get another lead,” Spencer mutters.
He hangs up without another word.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#gideon!reader#spencer reid angst#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds angst#x reader#sadie writes#and yes. reader heard spencer's whole side of the convo<3
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Phantom Pursuit- YJW
Jungwon is cocky, confident, and easily one of the most skilled world class spies in the world. Nothing seems to bother him and his impulse is his most deadliest weapon. His partner was skilled, capable, and detail oriented- aka you. Something big goes down on an unassuming mission. But little did you know this one mission could change the fate of the world as you knew it.
PAIRING: — Spy Jungwon ✩ Spy reader (f)
GENRE: fluff, she’s angsty TT, slow burn, spy au
WARNINGS: making out, petnames, skinship, slow burn, I hate to say but there is angst, mentions of alcohol, guns, blood, fighting, cursing, near death experiences, mentions of death, dark haired Jungwon!, two ocs , there’s probably wayyy more but idk how to do this
WC: 21.110 words
Yuni Says: hihi, this is my first fic ever. And I mean like on any writing platform. So I’m completely new to writing- pls bear with me. I’ve been lurking on here for a while but I never published anything. I’m not going to be very very consistent with my writing but I will try my best. Pls feel free to chat with me and give me any feedback to improve. But I’m really really excited to start my journey on here!! Comments and reblogs are rlly appreciated. Anyway I hope you enjoy~ bye lovelies
The mission was simple- get into the gala and do some profiling on the high end criminals there. Although there was a stir of something else. Something big was happening at this gala of the underworld. That is precisely the reason that you were standing here. Underneath these opulent chandeliers in this glittering ballroom in Paris. The soft hum of classical music and whispers of the crooked floated through the air. The gala was filled with champagne fueled conversations that some could only decrypt as devious plans. You adjusted the slit of your deep sea blue dress and scanned the room observing the shadowy and mysterious figures. The earpiece buzzed faintly as you picked up a champagne flute from a waiter passing by.
“Hear anything interesting?” Jungwon’s voice crackled in her ear through the comm system. His annoying voice was smug as always
You suppressed a sigh trying to keep your expression neutral. “If by interesting, you mean potential intel, then no. Just the usual crowd of criminals pretending to be philanthropists.”
“Come on, ___” Jungwon replied. “You need to lighten up a bit. This is just a profiling mission. Its the easiest one we’ve been on in a while. So just relax and try to have some fun will you?”
“Jungwon no matter how easy this is its a mission. We aren’t here to have fun” you say in a focused manner like always.
You scanned around the room noticing him. Jungwon was leaning against the bar in his sharp black tuxedo. His hair was slicked back and he had that air of confidence and easiness he carried. No matter how much you hate to admit it, his broad shoulders, lean build, and small waist looked damn good in that tux. His eyes met yours from across the room. They were deep brown and mysterious, yet they still had that longing look. Those eyes that hide a deeper emotion, something that you couldn’t quite decipher. Even after all that training and those missions where you read people to a tee, you still couldn’t quite read him. Yet, those eyes always lured you in and never failed to bring that slight flush up your neck despite how damn annoying he was. And that damn smile. That charming one he gave with both his dimples poking out. It had already attracted two women who were all up on Jungwon. It was pathetic and honestly infuriating how his simple smile had such an impact on anyone. What’s more pathetic is the way your own heart ached in the slightest way at the sight. Now wasn’t the time for that though. You rolled your eyes as you set the champagne down.
“Are you flirting with civilians again??”
“Would you prefer if I flirted with you instead?” Jungwon teased as he raised his glass in your direction.
“Focus Jungwon,” you hissed. “We are here for intel, not your dating life” you reprimand him as you eye the host of the party, he was new on the scene and your agency needed more information on said man.
“And yet,” he said, taking a sip of his drink, “I’m the one who’s about to make progress.”
Before you could say anything in return he had already slipped away from the bar. He excused himself from the two pretty girls who pouted as he said he needed to leave. The criminal was named Bryan Cavellott, he was new on the high end criminal scene. He had made his grand debut by stealing some jewels from a museum in Russia and now rumor says he has something else thats far more important than some pink diamonds. Something so valuable that he had attracted all the high-level criminals in europe to his gala. As Jungwon made a beeline towards the older man with the crisp white suit and shaped beard, he shot you a sly look.
You narrowed your eyes as you followed him from a distance. You slipped through the crowds as you kept your gaze trained on Jungwon. He had already begun his usual act: leaning in slightly, charming but conspiratorial smile playing on his lips, and a trustworthy tone of voice.
You spoke through the comm system again, “Don’t blow our cover.”
“When have I ever blown our cover?” he whispered with a confident smile as he made his way closer to Cavellott.
“Do you want me to give you the list alphabetically or in order of how many times we almost died?”
Jungwon didn’t say anything but the smirk on his face was answer enough. Instead he finally approached the old man. “Mr. Cavellott?” he said his voice smooth. “Quite a gathering tonight. A man like you must have something truly extraordinary to share with us.”
Cavellott’s smile was thin and practiced but it held a hint of amusement too. “Ah, and you are?”
“Jung Park” he said easily, extending a hand. “Investor, entrepreneur, and lover of all things valuable and rare.”
You groaned into the earpiece quietly as you decided that you needed to make sure Jungwon didn’t get one of his brilliant ideas again. So you approached the two smoothly.
“And who is your lovely companion?” Cavellott asked, his gaze sharp and shifting to meet yours as you slid up next to Jungwon.
“___ Nakamura” you say with a charming smile of your own. “Jung’s business partner.”
Of course Jungwon couldn’t help but add with a stupid grin, “among other things.” which earned him a well deserved but subtle jab to his ribs from your elbow.
Cavellott seemed to have deemed you two trustworthy as he openly chuckled enjoying the dynamic between you two. “Well, Mr. Park and Miss Nakamura, I assure you that tonight’s main attractions is unlike anything you’ve encountered before. An artifact of immense… potential.”
Jungwon tilted his head playing along, “intriguing. I assume this artifact isn’t something you can pick up at a local auction house?”
Cavellott smiled wider. “Hardly. It’s something far more elusive- something that has been hidden for centuries and only recently resurfaced.”
You leaned in slight, your tone cautious but curious. You preceded carefully but you couldn’t help but think- is this what all the stir was about? “Oh? And what exactly makes it so special?”
Cavellott’s eyes sparkled with a mixture of pride and secrecy. “Ah, but that is the question isn’t it? Its value lies not just in what it is but what it could do. That’s what everyone’s here for”
“Sounds dangerous,” you said.
“All things of great power are,” Cavellott replied smoothly. “But that’s why it must be handled by someone who understands its worth. Plus I’m sure a lovely and confident lady like yourself wouldn’t mind a little game of danger?”
You sent Jungwon a quick glance but you both knew what it meant. This was it. It wasn’t just a rumor, whatever this… artifact is, its dangerous and with the way Cavellott is speaking of it- everyone here seems to understand its value. You sent a calm but pleased glance towards Cavellott despite the way your nerves were on edge.
“And this artifact…” Jungwon said his voice steady but probing, “does it have a name?”
Cavellott’s smile thinned as his eyes darted around nervously before he leaned in closer. “I shouldn’t even be discussing this, but I suppose you’ll find out sooner or later. The artifact is known as the Phantom Codex.”
The name itself sent a shiver down your spine although your expression remained neutral. The Phantom Codex… it was something significant. The way Cavellott spoke about it was too unsettling itself.
“And what does it do?” Jungwon asked his tone light but calculating.
Cavellott chuckled lightly but with a hint of knowing. “That, my friend, is the question that everyone here tonight is asking. And the answer… is far more than you could ever imagine.”
Before the two of you could press him any farther a woman on the other end of the ballroom caught his eye. She gave him a sly smile before turning away and walking to the balcony. The challenge in her eye was unmistakable. Cavellott offered the two of you a rushed excuse. “If you’ll excuse me, I must attend to my other guests. Enjoy the evening you two.”
And just like that he disappeared into the crowd. Jungwon leaned in closer to you, his voice was low and calculating. “Phantom Codex. Sound like the title of a bad action movie.”
“Focus Jungwon.” you snapped back at him. Your pulse was calm but your thoughts were racing. “Whatever it is, people are willing to kill for it. I mean some of these criminals hate each other but look at the way they’re playing so nice tonight. Whatever this is we can’t ignore it.”
Jungown’s playful expression faded as he took on a rare serious one instead. “Then I guess it’s time to figure out who else here knows something about it- and what they are willing to do to get it.”
You nodded and scanned the room. This always happened to the two of you, not a single mission where the stakes hadn’t risen. You were playing a game where one wrong move could cost you everything, even your life. In this room surrounded by throngs of dangerous people, you knew the importance of this mission.
“Lets split up,” you said, your tone sharp. You gave him one last look over your shoulder. “And Jungwon? Try not to flirt with anyone.”
“No promises,” he replied with a poor attempt at a wink before disappearing into the crowd. Despite yourself a small smile formed on your lips. You just sighed as you shook your head.
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
The party shifted into a quieter, more exclusive phase as the night deepened. The glittering and glamorous crowd thinned, leaving behind only those with the wealth, power, and influence to justify their presence at this gala in the heart of Paris. You and Jungwon moved through the crowd, your ears sharp, ready to catch any piece of information about this mysterious artifact.
“Anything?” you whispered your voice barely audible over the classical tunes.
Jungwon, who was on the other side of the opulent room turned to find your eyes as he smiled teasingly. “A lot of people talking about a lot of things. Art deals, offshore accounts… oh and Lady Pennington’s pomeranian apparently needs a personal chef and maid.”
You shot him a sharp look.
“Relax Miss Nakamura,” he teased with a cocky smile as he made his way towards you. “But seriously, everyone’s buzzing about something being revealed soon. I’m betting its our mysterious Codex.”
You nodded, “we need to find out what it is and when its going to be revealed.”
As if on cue two men walked by. One of them was some normal small town criminal. The other one though… It was him, Ebony Lloyd. To say that the pair of you and Lloyd had a history would be an understatement. Whenever there was any trouble he was always there. He had a rich history himself… robberies, head of a notorious organization, bomb and arms dealing, drug trafficking. He was a tall and burly man with sleek black hair and eyes of a wolf always searching for his next prey. Of course someone like him was at a gala like this. He didn’t seem to recognize you as he strolled right by. He was talking in hushed tones with the man but you heard bits of what they were saying. Something that sounded like: “Air strip..” “Vienna” “no mistakes this time”. Great- he was on the move again. You would deal with him later, right now the Codex is what mattered.
Jungwon’s expression soured as he laid his eyes on Lloyd. “Would you look at that? Its our best friend! And he’s conspiring again. I swear he can’t ever keep still for even a few days.” Jungwon sneered quietly as he ran his hand through his styled hair in annoyance.
“We’ll have to deal with him later. Right now we need to find out about the Codex.” you say with a bit of an annoyed expression yourself.
Everyone’s attention got drawn up to the front as a man strode up onto stage. The conversation died down as the man turned to face the crowd, commanding the attention of the room. He started smoothly and with confidence. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us this fine night. As many of you know, tonight’s gathering is more than a celebration– its an unveiling.” he declared
A murmur spread through the crowd as excitement rippled through the room.
“The artifact you are about to see,” the man continued. “Has been the subject speculation and legend for centuries. Its origins are as elusive as its true potential. But tonight, it is here, in this very room, for the first time in generations this precious artifact has been unearthed again.”
Jungwon leaned a bit too close to murmur in your ear, “I have a bad feeling about this.” With the shiver running down your spine all you could do was nod.
Two heavily armed men appeared on stage, wheeling a steel reinforced case onto the stage. The man gestured towards the case with a flourish, his tone turned reverent “Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you… the Phantom Codex.”
The case opened with a hiss and steam being emitted from inside. There it was.. The ever elusive Phantom Codex. It looked unsuspecting at first glance. Just a small black piece of tech that was shaped like that of a diamond. You had to take a closer look to realize that there were weird symbols and letters etched onto the surface. They didn’t look like any language you recognized.. In fact the looked almost alien. Whats more is that they didn’t seem to ever hold still, they shifted everytime you blinked. The tech emitted an eerie blue glow from the cracks in it as well. It truly was mysterious and a marvel of tech. You couldn’t help but think- how old is this really? Why is this tech so important if its so old??
Jungwon’s breath caught too as he looked at the object. As you looked around the room- no one seemed to be able to look away. They all had the same blue glow in their eyes. This small little black diamond had stunned the hardest of criminals as the crowd gravitated towards it. You could see Jungwon lean closer to the stage himself.
Snapping your finger in front of his eyes you pulled him out of his trance. “Jungwon.” you whispered in a hushed tone. “Stop looking at it. Its like that Codex is pulling you in- like everyone else here.”
He blinked rapidly as he looked around the room like he was finally gaining his senses again. He quickly masked his entrancement, “the only thing pulling me in is you cherie..” He brushed his hand against yours as a little tease. Your heart rate spiked but before you could come back with a witty comment the lights suddenly went out.
“Stay close,” you say as you place your hand on the hilt of the knife concealed under your dress. Panic rose even more when a deafening shattering sound echoed through the room. Yells and cries followed closely as Jungwon muttered to himself “damnit..”
When the lights flickered on there wasn’t a Phantom Codex to marvel at. “It’s gone” you hissed. The armed men were gone and the man who unveiled the Codex was on the floor, a pool of his own crimson blood surrounding him.
“We need to move. The person who stole it isn’t planning to stick around for long,” Jungwon rushed as he grabbed your arm. His grip firm but comforting as you two ran through the panicked crowd towards the nearest exit. Cavellott’s men were starting to close the exits. But in a quick series moves you rendered them unconscious as you ran through the gates.
“Where’d they go?” you demanded, your pulse racing with a mixture adrenaline and frustration. Alas, whoever it was, was long gone. The midnight streets of Paris were completely empty. There wasn’t even a trace of them. “We lost it!” you said, your jaw tight.
You pulled your hand away from Jungwon as you smoothened your dress out with a look of frustration. Jungwon’s teasing personality dimmed as he placed a warm hand on your shoulder providing comfort in the cold night. “We’ll figure this out. You know we always do,” he said his voice steady despite the tension.
It was concerning how fast he could manipulate your emotions with just a few words. You unclenched your jaw as you gave him a curt nod. Still though your mind raced. What exactly was this Phantom Codex? Why were people going to the end of the world for that little diamond? And why did you have a sneaking feeling that this was just the beginning??
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Back at their hotel, you sat crossed legged on the bed, a tablet in your lap as you compiled all the information you had picked up- which wasn’t much. Jungwon on the other hand paced around the room with his tie loose, hair messed up with the way he ran his hands through it, and his shirt untucked. It was a sign of his restlessness.
Reviewing the security camera footage and guest list was of no use. Whoever this was- and you had a suspecting feeling- they were good. They were professional. Not a trace of them anywhere, just a shadow in the darkness.
“I think we both know who caused all this.” You said with a long exasperated sigh, falling back on the bed with a hand covering your eyes.
Jungwon groaned as he threw himself on the other side of the bed with the same hatred in his voice. “Ebony Lloyd. I swear when I get my hands on him I’m going to-”
Before Jungwon could continue his pleasant words a blue light shone from the tablet. The two of you quickly stood up and straightened out your outfits and you slapped the back of Jungwon’s head mouthing to him to straighten his tie before turning the video on. It was a call from your superior, Mrs. Kwon. She chuckled noticing your slightly disheveled appearance. Then Mrs. Kwon spoke with an easy tone, “agent ___, agent Yang. Nice to see you two so relaxed after a mission. Report to me.”
You spoke up first, “quite the opposite Mrs. Kwon. The mission didn’t go as well as we planned.” you say with a slightly ashamed tone but keeping your expressions professional.
“We profiled on Cavellott, but there was something else. The rumors were true ma’am. There was something big at this gala. Its called the Phantom Codex. We think its something we should be worried about” Jungwon reported. It was a bit unsettling how his personality changed to professional and obedient the moment he was under the hard gaze of our superior. What caught you off guard was the way that Mrs. Kwon’s easy and laid back demeanor dropped immediately the moment she heard the artifact’s name. There was some shuffling on her side- it sounded like she moved rooms.
Her voice came out in a whisper, “the Phantom Codex?? Are you two out of your mind?”
You and Jungwon shared a confused glance before looking back at her. “No ma’am. It's true. We saw it, it was at the gala tonight. But its gone now. Stolen.” you spoke up your tone sincere. Her nervous expression was making you uneasy. Mrs. Kwon was never nervous. “Ma’am if you don’t mind me asking. What is it? What does do?”
Her expression darkened as her tone was now dead serious. “Its dangerous. Every single criminal no matter how big or small is pursuing it. It can hack into anything and manipulate data in ways that humans never though possible. Things like government agencies, federal banks, military systems, nuclear codes, databases of civilians of whole countries.” she spoke, her seriousness making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “You two listen carefully. No one. And I mean absolutely no one else should know about this. Is that clear? I don’t care what mission you’re on right now, now your one and only mission is securing the Codex. Is that clear?”
Jungwon could hear her deadly tone too as he gulped softly. You both nodded as she wished you luck before cutting communication. You let your stiff posture relax as you met Jungwon’s gaze. Both of you knew. This wasn’t just some tech, it was powerful, dangerous, and deathly. “I’ve never seen Mrs. Kwon that serious… Something isn’t right.” you observe quietly. You tried to read Jungwon’s gaze but his eyes were too complicated.
“Well no pressure right?” Jungwon sighed as he leaned back into an armchair his hands behind his head.
“This is serious Jungwon, did you see Mrs. Kwon??” you shot him a glare as you bristled at the way his posture was so relaxed so easily.
“I know,” he interrupted, his usual smirk replaced by a grim expression. “And we’re gonna find it okay?”
For a moment your eyes met, a flicker of understanding and something else passed through you. That something else made you look away as you sighed- even with the weight of this serious mission Jungwon’s gaze could make your heart flutter. “Just.. sleep soon. We have a long day ahead of us.” you say as you go to change into something more apt for sleep.
Jungwon let a faint smile grace his lips as he called out to you from the bed, “aww are you worried for me darling~?” he teased as he watched you come back from the bathroom after changing.
“Shut up. I just don’t want your work to be sloppy Jungwon” you say with an annoyed tone meeting his light gaze with a serious one. Although you knew that he was just trying to lighten the mood and tension. You silently thanked him for it before getting under the sheets.
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
The morning light filtered through the heavy drapes of their hotel room, neither you nor Jungwon was in the mood for sunshine. The air was thick with tension as you reviewed every scrap of information you had gathered the night prior.
You sat on the couch, your legs tucked under you as you sifted through endless digital files, recordings, and articles. Your hair was in a messy bun and the cup of coffee in your hand trembled slightly from too much caffeine and not enough sleep. Jungwon on the other hand was sprawled in an arm chair. He had seemed to made the decision to not be bothered by any of the events from last night. It frustrated you a bit that you were here busting your ass trying to find something- anything to help the mission and he just sat there. Tossing a stress ball in the air and catching it with a relaxed motion as if the fate of the world wasn’t hanging by a thread.
“Geez you’ve been hunched over that computer for hours” he drawled as he caught the stress ball lazily and looked up from his impromptu game, “have you even found anything?”
“Well maybe I wouldn’t have to be breaking my back for hours if you just decided to help.” you snapped, your patience wearing dangerously thin.
“Touchy this morning,” he teased as you clenched your jaw with frustration and annoyance. God- you swore he was the spawn of the devil- “what? Didn’t sleep well huh?”
“How could I? With you snoring like a chainsaw the entire damn night??” you spat back your head practically fuming by now.
“I do not snore”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you muttered scrolling through yet another document.
Jungwon finally decides that he’s done pushing at your limits. He snickers as he stands up stretching like he had been doing some serious work this entire time. “Well maybe if you used common sense you wouldn’t have to be working so hard.” he stated as you were about at the end of your patience and your hands were itching to grab him by his pretty little neck and- “Vienna. Lloyd. Last night. I have to say- I thought with those witty comebacks I thought you would be sharper ___”
Your expression faltered as your mind raced through last night. He’s right.. Lloyd was there. He was whispering about Vienna and not long after the Codex had disappeared into thin air. It was him again. You sighed exasperated, finally getting up from the couch. You wanted to wipe that smirk off his face- you absolutely despised when he was right, “maybe your constant stupidity is starting to rub off on me. Just stop smiling and pack your bags”
As he stood up too he moved to stand behind you as he placed his hands deliberately on your waist. His voice was low and smug as his breath fanned your skin, “Whatever you say babe… but just once.. Admit I was right sweetheart.”
The only response he got was a deathly glare from you and his own yelp as you twisted his hands in an awkward angle behind his back, “try something like that again and you won’t live to see next time you’re right.” you scowled with a dangerous voice as he just grinned like an idiot.
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
The airstrip was alive with activity even in the dead of the night. The soft whine of jet engines and distant echoes of shouted instructions blended with the cold Austrian night. You had surveyed the area already so your movements were calculated. Lloyd had been clear- the Phantom codex was being transported through Vianna tonight, possibly by air. This was your chance to intercept it.
“We have to move quickly and quietly” you reminded him as you two sneaked through the grounds. You both blended seamlessly into the dark landscape- just like shadows.
“I know sweetheart, don’t worry I got it” Jungwon replied and you could hear the teasing smirk in his voice. You groaned internally at the way his sweet nicknames made your cheeks warm. Thank god for the cover of the night.
As you two approached the dimly lit hangar at the far end of the airstrip, your sharp eyes caught movement- a group of armed men were unloading a sleek black case from a private jet. Your heart rate sped up. The Codex.
“Bingo,” you whispered, pointing towards the hangar. But before you could say anything further, Jungwon covered your mouth pulling you behind the metal walls of a storage unit. You let out a muffed protest as your eyes widened.
You couldn’t help but notice the way that Jungwon was pressed flush against you. He had you pinned to the wall as he held a finger to your lips. You could hear his heart beat and his warmth reached you through the gear you both wore. His scent was a subtle one but comforting in a way. “Shhh, look-” Jungwon said in a hushed tone as you followed his gaze. There he was. Ebony Lloyd. He was getting off the jet that had been parked in the same hangar from where the codex had been extracted. He had tall burly men flanking both his sides as he made his way to a black van. He was close- way too close. You could practically smell his strong and obnoxious cologne from all the way over here.
If you two just stayed quiet and didn’t make a sound- CRUNCH!!. Shit. You accidentally shifted against Jungwon as you boots made a small sound on the gravel that was far too loud for the quiet night. Lloyd had a sickening smirk on his face as he made his way over to the two of you. You cursed under your breath as Jungwon stepped away from you, now facing him.
“Well well, would you look at that? The lovebirds and the world’s most dysfunctional duo!!” Lloyd drawled on as he voice was low and condescending.
You hated him too- not to misunderstand. But Jungwon had an entirely different fight to pick with him. Lloyd had a way of getting under his skin just like how Jungwon gets under yours. Jungwon was proud no matter how much he protested it. Lloyd had bruised his ego way too many times. You had to give it to him he was smart- that’s the only reason you ever lost. Its because he was always one step ahead. Jungwon detested him entirely. You could already see his rigid body language and clenched fists. Jungwon was practically fuming- this was something both Lloyd and you could see. And Lloyd took great pleasure in it.
“Jungwon… don’t. He’s testing you.” you clenched your own fists. You knew Lloyd and his love for mind games. But tonight the two of you had no time for his little game. The Codex was right there- so close.
But Jungwon ignored you. His teeth clenched as he stormed forward before you could stop him. “And you-” he seethed with his eyes cold and hard, “you little bastard. Got your sights on the Codex huh? Needed something more to show off to your pathetic little mistress? Couldn’t please her or your wife?”
“Oh stop acting so high and mighty jungwon. You can’t seem to win over your pretty little partner’s heart so don’t go insulting my love life.” He chuckled arrogantly. The statement really seemed to strike a chord in Jungwon. “These harsh words aren’t from lingering feelings about Milan right? Or was it Budapest? Or maybe… Dubai? You’ve lost so many times I’ve lost track.”
“Jungwon no-” you say your voice firm and hard as you eyed the four bodyguards trying to plan your escape.
But it was far too late. Jungwon snapped. Without a word he surged even closer towards Lloyd.
“Dammit it Jungwon.” you hissed desperately as you scrambled to follow him.
The two men collided, Jungwon’s fist connected with Lloyd’s jaw as a sickening crack rang out. The criminal staggered backwards and his bodyguards were quick to react as they rained down punches on Jungwon. You quickly lept into action kicking one of them square in the head while landing an uppercut to another ones jaw. You fired two quick shots incapacitating the other two.
Meanwhile, Jungwon freed himself only to launch back at Lloyd with more rage than before. But the criminal had more tricks up his sleeve. Quite literally!! He pulled a knife from his coat as they grappled. The fight was taking the two dangerously close to another jet’s running engines. Jungwon’s back thudded onto the flight’s metal body. Lloyd landed another strike but this time slashing Jungwon with his knife- drawing blood. Jungwon was too far gone to care at that moment. Lloyd landed one final cut to his abdomen as Jungwon fell to the tarmac.
You saw it happed with your own two eyes. The Codex. It had been loaded onto the plane. Lloyd smiled satisfied at the way Jungwon was trying hard to recover. “Jungwon!!” your voice rang out as you lunged for him. You caught him just in time. The two of you scrambled out of the way as the jet made its way down the runway.
There it was- gone once again, and that too in the hands of Lloyd.
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
The tension in your vienna hotel room was suffocating. You paced in front of the window, your arms crossed, your face the mask of frustration. Jungwon sat on the bed, one hand on his cut arm and the other on his abdomen, both trying to nurse the gashes on his body. You were fuming and it only added fuel to the fire that your heart was telling you to help Jungwon with his injuries.
“You completely lost control!!” you snapped instead, whirling around to face him. “We had the Codex right there, and you threw it away- for what?!? A grudge match?”
Jungwon sighed leaning against the the headboard. He was tired and annoyed himself, you could tell. “Lloyd needed to be dealt with. He–”
“He got under your skin,” you interrupted, with your voice rising. “And now we’re back to square one because of your ego!!”
Jungwon met your glare with his expression softening which only annoyed you more. There was a silence that was filled with tension and something else that was better it remained unspoken. You clenched your teeth as you saw the slight hint of a smile playing at the corner his lips. You scoffed to yourself. Why the hell was he smiling?? You just lost one of the most dangerous artifacts to a notorious criminal. This was most definitely not the time to be smiling. “What???” you snapped at him crossing your arms once again.
“Hm? Oh nothing.. You’re just really cute when you’re mad.” he said in a matter of factly tone. You hated yourself for the way your brain went blank for a good few seconds. You hated the way your cheeks felt warm and your breath hitched for just a moment.
You groaned loudly throwing up your hands in frustration. “Don’t do that! Don’t try to charm your way out of this.”
“Who says I’m trying to charm you? But even if I was.. It looks like its working- no?” he smirks despite the blood trickling from a cut on his lips. His damn lips that curled up even more when he saw your gaze on them. His damn lips that your just wanted to feel against yours- No!! You weren’t distracted by his idiotically plump, soft, and full lips.
You shot him a look after tearing your gaze away from his lips. Your sharp retort died on your lips when you saw the gash on his arm and abs. Your frustration warred with concern, but, with a heavy sigh, you grabbed the first aid kit from the desk.
“Take off the gear” you ordered your voice clipped.
Jungwon had the nerve to raise his eyebrows in mock surprise. “If you wanted to see me shirtless, you could've just asked babe.”
You shot him another deathly glare as you advanced towards him. The faint pink in your cheeks betrayed you as you made him put down the gauze he had in his hands and took his shirt off. Well I mean- you were just a girl after all. His toned muscles and hard lines of his chest and abs. The slight glisten of sweat and the scars that littered his body were so hot… well shit. “Getting distracted sweetheart?” Jungwon teased. You snapped your eyes back up to his face and made sure your gaze was sharp.
“Just hold still” you muttered, dabbing at the cut with disinfectant. Jungwon winced but he didn’t dare pull away. His gaze was trained on you as you worked with your movements precise and efficient. But your hands lingered on his skin for a few too moments too long. The tension was palpable in the air, the unspoken words and heat between the two of you was at its peak. You met his gaze and this time you could read it- but you didn’t want to. You were his partner it was strictly professional. The way your heart beat way too fast gave you away though.
He sliced the tension with a knife when he uttered your name out softly. It lacked any of his arrogance or its usual teasing edge to it. You didn’t look up. Too scared to see what you find if you looked up again. “Don’t Jungwon. Just… don’t.”
He reached out, his fingers gently brushing against your wrist. “I’m sorry,” he said, and for once he sounded sincere. There was undertones of something else too. “I screwed up.”
You froze, your breath catching at the unexpected vulnerability in his tone. You shivered at his gently touch, it melted away your anger and replaced it with something warmer, something neither of you could name. You took in a shaky breath as you replied, your voice lacking the earlier bite “you did.”
Jungwon’s lips curved into a faint smile. “But you’re still patching me up. Guess that means you care.”
You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your moth twitched up- fighting back a smile. “Don’t push it.” you warned but your voice had gone soft.
You fell into a charged silence, the air between you thick with unspoken words. Jungwon’s hand lingered on your wrist, but for once you didn’t pull away. It was dangerous the way your heart raced at his touch. “You’re too reckless,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
“And you’re too stubborn,” he replies, his gaze dropping briefly to your lips before returning to your eyes. At that moment you knew you couldn’t lose him. You hate to finally admit it but it was true. All the times he had risked his life to save you from near death situations, his stupid jokes that lightened up any situation, and his dumb pet names that made you smile every time. You knew you couldn’t lose him- so the least you could do for all those times was forgive him. Just this once.
You finished patching up his gashes silently before abruptly standing up. You walked to the other side of the hotel room as you set the first aid kit down once again. It was your pathetic attempt at trying your heart to beat normally once again. You turned back to face him- relieving yourself of the weight of your own gear as Jungwon spoke again. “So just to be clear. You weren’t staring at my lips or my abs right? Because then that would mean that you find me-”
“Jungwon!” you cut him off with a stern gaze. But his infuriating, smug, dimple filled smile still remained on his lips as he just shrugs.
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
After that night in Vienna you couldn’t stop thinking about him- well you always had him on your mind anyway- but something else nagged at you. This Phantom Codex… you knew what it was supposed to do, but it still had a mysterious aura about it. There was something so elusive about this simple piece of tech, and you were determined to find out what.
That is exactly how you ended up here. In your shared hotel room with your glasses forming dents on your nose, your hands trembling from too much caffeine, and your eyes had deep circles under them that showed how you had been up for far too long.
I mean you can’t blame yourself- you tried to sleep. You swear you did. But Jungwon’s words and gaze and touch just wouldn’t let you rest. Jungwon groaned as he blinked his eyes open- the bright light of the screen blinding his eyes. “___? You’re kidding me” he stated in a rough and groggy voice. He turned his head as he squinted towards the digital clock. “It’s five A.M. Did you even sleep?”
“Couldn’t” you replied short and distant. “I was too busy doing your job.”
“Ah, there it is- the sharp tongue of my favorite partner” he said with a smile in his tone as he heaved his body- still marred with the gashes from before- into a sitting position. “Morning to you too, sweetheart”
You gave him a glare over your shoulder, but the deep circles under your eyes betrayed your exhaustion. “Don’t even start with me Jungwon. I’ve been piecing intel while you’ve been snoring away again.”
“I do not snore,” he insisted indignantly, crossing his arms as he leaned against the headboard.
“Oh, trust me you do. After all these years of sharing a hotel room, you most definitely do.” You turned back to your screen, muttering under your breath, “it’s like trying to sleep next to a freight train.”
He just rubbed the back of his neck as he sighed in fake and exaggerated. He watched as you typed away, the sounds of your fingers dancing along the keys an insistent sound in the room. In an amused but concerned tone he prodded, “What are you even looking at?”
“The Codex.” your voice was clipped. But there was an edge of something else— anxiety and nervousness. “I hacked into one of Lloyd’s encrypted files. I think I found a list of targets who apparently know something about the Codex.”
He nodded as he shifter closer to look over your shoulder at the screen. “Okay, thats progress. But… why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” he questioned carefully.
Your fingers stilled on the keyboard and your body tensed. You took a deep breath before meeting his eyes, your expression guarded but your voice trembling just slightly, “My… My sister.. Her name is on his list.” you declare. Your brain was a mess even if you didn’t let it show. She was your sister, the few people in this cutthroat world that you loved and trusted blindly.
The air in the room seemed to thickened. Jungwon’s teasing smirk disappeared as he processed your shaky words. “Your sister?”
“She’s a target,” you said, your voice cracking despite an effort to stay composed. “I don’t know why or- or what they want from her, but–” you stopped, shaking your head as you pinched the bridge of your nose. Scared of just the thought or Lloyd targeting your sister or losing her entirely. “If we don’t get the Codex back, she’s in danger. I can’t– I can’t let that happen” you looked at him with scared and vulnerable eyes. This was the first time you let this happen. The first time you opened up to him.
He moved closer to you as he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “___, hey. Listen to me.”
Reluctantly, you lifted your eyes to his.
“We’ll get it back,” he said firmly, his voice steady and unwavering. “I swear to you. We’ll find the Code, and we’ll protect your sister.”
“You don’t understand,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. Your eyes distant as you thought about the horrifying possibilities of what might happen. “This isn’t just another mission anymore. Its personal.”
“I know,” Jungwon said, his tone softening. “And that’s why we’re going to win this. Because when it comes to you and the people you care about.. I swear to you- I would rather die than fail.”
You blinked at him, caught off guard by the rare sincerity in his voice. For a moment time slowed and the truth behind his voice rang clearer. The unspoken weight of his words weighed heavy on your shoulders. It was nice. It was nice to know that he would be there, even when times were tough or uncertain. He spoke with a promise that didn’t waver at all. His presence was firm and steady. It grounded you even as doubt filled your mind. You knew that from the countless successful missions you two had accomplished, that with him- anything was possible.
“You’re such an idiot,” you muttered, brushing past the lump in your throat and rapidly blinking trying not to show your vulnerability even more.
“Then its a shame that you’re stuck with me isn’t it?” Jungwon replied with a smile tugging at his lips. “Now, come on. You need to sleep before you collapse on me.”
“I’m fine.” you insisted stubbornly, standing up and brushing past him.
“‘I’m fine’ my ass,” Jungwon drawled, following you despite the pain his body faced when he moved. “Just like I’m the best hacker in this partnership.”
“You? Hacker? Yeah right- since when??” you show back with your usual sharpness returning to your voice.
He grinned like an idiot and his dreamy dimples made another appearance. “There she is. I was worried the all-nighter had turned you into a zombie.”
You rolled your eyes but the hint of a smile on your lips was still clear as day.
Later that evening, after hours of futile attempts to trace the codex’s whereabouts and Jungwon’s incessant nagging, you finally slumped onto the hotel bed, your exhaustion catching up to you. Jungwon walked to you from the kitchen a glass of water in his hand.
“Drink,” he said, holding it out to you.
“I’m fine,” you protested though your voice was hoarse. As much as you silently appreciated his comfort and care, you didn’t need to be coddled by your annoyance of a partner.
He said said your name in a stern tone of voice that left no room for argument. You sighed but took the glass of water, considering your pounding headache from looking at the computer screen all day, it was the right thing to do. Your fingers brushed his for just a moment too long. “Thanks” you muttered out.
He sat next to you, his usual cockiness replaced by a quiet concern. “You know” he started, “for someone who calls me reckless, you’re not exactly great at taking care of yourself.”
You scoffed, “Takes one to know one.”
He chuckled lightly his head shaking at your retort even with the pounding in your head. “Fair.”
The silence that followed wasn’t really uncomfortable, but it was definitely charged with something you both refused to acknowledge. You stared down at the glass in your hands. Your mind still running in overdrive with worry for your sister, the Codex, and the precarious line that you and Jungwon seem to be walking on. This dangerous pull that lulled you both towards one another that you just danced around.
“You’re too good at this,” you said your tone suddenly softer and quieter. “At making me feel like everything’s gonna be okay,” you admit with your cheeks warming as you turn your head, avoiding his gaze. You sigh as you continued on, trying to lighten the mood, “I guess there is one single thing that you’re good at. Sweet talking your way out of messes?”
“Out of messes? Oh please darling- my sweet talking has a much greater purpose- like sweet talking my way into sitting on the same bed as you.” he pretending to sigh dreamily as the sparkle of amusement didn’t leave his eye, “wow~ what an honor.”
This led to you pushing him off the edge of the bed and trying to contain your laughter as he landed with a big thud. He let out a yelp as he rubbed his back, the big boba eyes he gave you only worked on those girls at parties. “How about you start trying to sweet talk your way into me not beating your ass?” you say with an amused but genuine smile. He huffed in defeat as he stalked his way over to the couch. You couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle.
“Goodnight sweetheart~” you mocked him as he silently flipped you off.
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
The streets of Tokyo buzzed with life, the neon lights casting a kaleidoscope of colors over the bustling city. The air was filled with noises of children, adults, and automobiles. It was freezing cold in the night and you could see your breath in front of you, coming out in a cold white fog. You trailed a step behind Jungwon, your arms crossed as you watched him survey the surroundings with an air of practiced nonchalance. The two of you made your way to the looming but sleek and modern hotel. Of course it was a five star experience in Tokyo, only the best for the two best agents.
“You’re unusually quiet,” Jungwon remarked, glancing over his shoulder at you. You couldn’t help but groan internally at the situation. And also at the fact that no man should look that ridiculously good with his hair messy and blowing in the wind.
“Just trying to figure out how we ended up in this situation,” you muttered with annoyance as you shifted the bag on your shoulder.
“Acting like a couple?” he smirked, pushing the tall glass door open for you. “Don’t pretend like you’re not enjoying it.”
You stepped into the threshold with a sharp glare pointed at him. You had to hide the fast pace of your heart somehow, “You’re delusional.”
The hotel lobby was elegant and the chandelier shimmered in all the hotel’s elegance. The ambient lighting and soft jazz music filled the space. You took note of the huge glass windows that could be a possible threat. The receptionist looked at the two of you with a practiced smile which widened when she laid eyes on Jungwon. You didn’t really know why but it made you roll your eyes.
“Reservation under Park and Nakamura,” Jungwon said in his usual arrogant and cocky tone of voice. You couldn’t help but be more pissed at his voice but also find it a bit endearing as well. It was something you looked up to, he had a certain way with his words and it always worked somehow.
“Ah yes of course, I’ll be sure to get your bags up to your room. Anything else you needed help with?” the girl at the desk batted her long eyelashes at Jungwon and it made you annoyed even more. Why, though? It's not like you had some weird feelings for your idiotic spy partner or something.
“Oh no that’s quite alright, me and my boyfriend can carry our bags up to the room ourselves.” you smiled at her patronizingly. You had to try really hard to ignore Jungwon’s stupid smirk as you lugged the bags to the elevator.
“Boyfriend? Staking your claim sweetheart?” he asked smugly as he struggled to carry the bigger bag towards the elevator. “Besides, why did you stop her?? Now we have to break our backs trying to get these bags into our rooms.” he said as he huffed, putting the bag down for a second to catch his breath.
“Did you want her to discover the Glock 19 stowed in our bags?” you asked in a mocking tone. You didn’t know exactly why you were so on edge from just a simple look Jungwon had received, but you felt as though from recent events.. You and Jungwon had started to walk down a dangerous path that none of you were ready to acknowledge.
You opened the lock with a bit more force than necessary. The hotel suite was spacious, with a panoramic view of the Tokyo skyline. But your heart truly dropped as your bags slipped out of your hands when your view zeroed-in on the centerpiece of the room. The king-sized bed. You shook your head immediately as you spun to face his already wide grinning face. “No way. Absolutely not. There is no way in hell I am sharing that.”
Jungwon with the most aggravating smile quirked one of his eyebrows, “What’s the problem? Afraid you’ll be tempted?” he asked with a hint of a laugh in his voice.
“In your dreams,” you shot back. You were not just about to expose yourself completely by sleeping in the same bed as him and then failing miserably to contain your idiotic emotions. No damn way.
“I’m just saying,” he said as he tossed his bags to the side. He jumped onto the pristine sheets, ruining them completely. “We need to look convincing, even in the hotel. The staff might be watching.”
You scowled. He was right, you both were well aware of the fact that Lloyd had his men lurking everywhere. “Fine. But if you so much as cross to my side of the bed, I swear-”
“Relax,” Jungwon interrupted, his hands up in a mock display of surrender. “I’ll stay on my side of the bed. Unless you wanted me to-”
“Don’t finish that sentence.”
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
You two were in Tokyo just because Mrs. Kwon had heard some rumors of the Codex here. There wasn’t any real evidence, but Mrs. Kwon was desperate. So for now the two of you just had to lay low and try to find anything more about the whereabouts of the dangerous piece of tech. That's the reason you couldn’t quite wrap your head around why Jungwon was parading the two of you around the hotel with his hand resting gently on your waist. Well you couldn’t really wrap your head around anything at the moment with how Jungwon’s fingers were softly brushing against your skin. “Remind me why I agreed to this?” you sighed as you forced the warmth in your cheeks to retreat.
“To keep up appearances sweetheart,” Jungwon whispered with his tone low and teasing, as his thumb rubbed absent minded circles on your skin, which only made your mind spiral even more. He had insisted that being stuck in your room all day reviewing the same five documents wouldn’t do you any good. So now you are here doing ‘bonding activities’ with your despised partner.
“I’m going to kill you one day,” you murmured through a tight lipped grin.
“Is that a challenge princess?” Jungwon asked a bit too loudly as you passed the receptionist once more. For some twisted reason this gave you satisfaction as you continued walking through the lobby. You couldn’t resist shooting her a devilish glance.
Still though, you forced yourself to keep up your act. “Lay it on any thicker and they’ll drown in it.” you hissed through gritted teeth.
You spent the entire rest of the day ‘bonding’ with Jungwon. But it was the small moments that caught you off guard. One of them was when you two were playing pool. He insisted that your posture was just offensive to the game. So he made a show of holding your arm as his strong chest pressed against your back. His breath lingered on your neck as his other hand rested on your waist once again. “Like this sweetie,” he muttered, his voice deep and velvety, as he paid no attention to the pool, his eyes only on your face, as if trying to memorize every little scar and contour. Your heart and mind were both unwell. They were working overtime trying desperately to process any of what was happening.
Another time he had you on your toes was when you were mid reach about to strangle him. The two of you were spending time in the arcade and as both of your personalities would permit it. The competitive streak was at another level entirely. So you were at your wit’s end when he interrupted your focus again as you concentrated on smashing the moles wherever they popped up. You had given him a fair amount of warning but you were running out of patience and points because you insisted on a rematch every time. A couple had strolled in and they were just about to take in the sight of you committing homicide. But before you could move you were pressed back against the machine with your arms unknowingly wrapped around his neck. “Play along if you don’t want to get caught ___.” he whispered, tightening his grip around your torso. You tried not to let the hammering of your heart and heat in your skin give you away.
The moment the couple had left you pushed him off but the smirk on his face didn’t budge.
When dinner came around you two had decided to eat at a fancy restaurant. But you cursed Jungwon as he smiled smugly at you. Obviously he was the center of attention for everyone there, so you couldn’t even curse him out without blowing your cover. He was taking full advantage of it though. “Say ‘ahh’ babe~” he cooed, holding up the spoon to your mouth. You rolled your eyes discreetly before you let him feed you. But before he could get too smug you sharply stepped on his foot from under the table. After all, you couldn’t let him think you were succumbing to his stupid flirting. You hid the smirk behind a glass of wine as you sipped it innocently while he glared at you from across the table.
It was late at night now. Even the beautiful city of Tokyo had dimmed its lights and gone to sleep. But you and Jungwon just couldn’t rest. Mrs. Kwon wanted answers and she wanted the Codex even faster. But after Jungwon had tired you out the entire day, the documents looked like they were from some other alien language. Your eyes were half lidded and bleary from the need to sleep.
You were just about to reach for the jug of coffee when Jungwon’s own sleepy voice called out to you. “Absolutely not. Hands off. Do you want a caffeine overdose?” he asked as he got up and took the jug away from you. You let a loud whine fall from your lips as you shot him a glare. You hate when he was right. But before you could shoot back at him with a snarky response, it all happened.
Both of you heard the footsteps from outside the door. Your head snapped up mid scroll. “Did you hear that?” you asked in a hushed whisper. The two of you were already in action though. You shoved the important files, weapons, and gear into your bag. Jungwon tossed you your gun as the two of you crouched behind the bed. The footfalls of the people outside were far too heavy and far too deliberate to be of normal guests.
“How did they find us??” Jungwon hissed as he reloaded his gun quietly. The footsteps paused and you took a deep breath before the chaos started.
The explosion rattled the room as the heavy wooden door came flying down. Splinters flew across the room like shrapnel, and you barely managed to miss the lamp that flew past you, shattering on the ground.
“Down!!” Jungwon yelled as the hail of bullets followed quickly. He dove towards you just in time before the air filled with gunfire.
Lloyd’s men poured into the room by the dozen. Their movements were swift and calculated but you two were like a well oiled machine. Nothing could stop Jungwon’s instinct and your precise aim.
Jungwon fired the shots, taking out the lead man with two clean hits to the chest. You rolled out from behind the bed, your gun steady in your hands as you aimed at the intruders. You picked the men off like birds on a wire, one by one with deadly accuracy.
“Left!” you shouted, and Jungwon pivoted, shooting the man who was trying to flank you.
“Nice call,” he said, his voice tight before he ducked for cover again.
You didn’t respond., your focus entirely on the men in front of you. One of them charged at you, his gun jammed, but you dropped him like a fly with one well placed kick to the chest, before you finished him off entirely with a shot.
“Watch out!!” Jungwon’s voice cut through the chaos and you turn just in time to see a man tossing a grenade towards the center of the room.
Your heart froze. You thought this was the end.
But Jungwon was faster.
He lunged, grabbing your arm and pulling you against his chest as your back hit the wall of the far corner of the room. The grenade exploded a second later, the blast shaking the entire suite. Glass shattered, furniture splintered, and a cloud of smoke and debris filled the air.
Your ears rang, and your vision blurred with tears as you struggled to breathe through the dust. You realized your head was pressed against Jungwon’s chest as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. When you looked up to see his distressed expression it's like you were looking at an angel. The sparks and gunshots whizzed behind him, there was a bleeding cut on his cheek, and his heart was racing. But in this life threatening moment all you could see was him.
“Jungwon…” you said, your voice barely audible over the ringing in your ears.
“I’m fine,” he said, though his voice was strained. But in all the chaos, you could see the bullet that was lodged in his arm. He grimaced as he moved to shoot more men that tried to advance.
“You’re hit,” you said with a trembling voice as the sight of his blood made you sick to the stomach.
“It’s nothing,” he replied, wincing as he moved, pulling you up to your feet. “We’re not done yet.”
More men surged into the room, but your initial shock and fear quickly transformed into fury. God when you got your hands on Lloyd… You grabbed your gun that had slid out of reach when the explosion rattled. You fired with precision, covering him as he pressed his hand to the wound. He winced at the sight of his own crimson blood as you shot down three more men. The room was a mess of bodies, blood, and debris.
“We need to move!” you shouted, helping Jungwon up as he grabbed the bag.
Jungwon scanned the room. The floor was unstable because of the explosion, more of Lloyd’s men just kept filling in through the door, so the only escape was.. “Window,” he said.
You both ran towards the large glass pane just as another explosion rocked the suite. Jungwon kicked out the window, the glass shattered into a million pieces. “Out,” he ordered.
“What abou-”
“Now!!”
You hesitated but still climbed onto the narrow ledge. Jungwon followed, his movements slower but determined despite his injury. You both got out just in time before another explosion rocked the building. The rain was pouring down in sheets. The slick surface of the ledge made every step even more treacherous than the last. But you two made your way to the emergency fire escape.
You two raced down the long dangerous steps as you covered Jungwon, shooting at the men who tried to pursue and pulling Jungwon when bullets whizzed onto the metal of the staircase. As soon as you were on the wet pavement, your hotel room burst into flames.
Bullets licked your heels as you narrowly avoided death, making a run towards a bike parked on the side of the road. You immediately got to work, hotwiring the bike as fast as you could. While Jungwon clutched his arm but still covered you with fierce determination.
“Get on!” you yelled, though you couldn’t hear much over your heart racing in your ears. You and Jungwon quickly sped away into the maze of streets. You rode like a maniac, avoiding cars by just small fractions of millimeters. The shouts echoed behind you but before Lloyd’s men could even rev the engine of their cars, you were gone.
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
The rain still lashed against the window of the safe house, the dim light of a single lamp casting long shadows across the room. The air was quiet but filled to the brim with tension. You sat on the edge of the couch, your hands tightly clasped in your lap. Your mind swirled with worry. Your sister’s face flashed in your thoughts- innocent, unsuspecting, completely unaware of the danger the Phantom Codex posed to her. She was a high ranking government official, both of your lives were forced to be kept secrets from each other. Yet the bond you shared with her was unbreakable and eternal. And she was only in more and more danger, if anything, the ambush today showed just how open Lloyd was being with his attempts. It showed… just how ruthless he could be.
And Jungwon… he had risked his life, gotten shot all for you. He sat across from you, his injured arm freshly bandaged after extracting the bullet and disinfecting the wound. His posture was more relaxed, the chaos had taken a toll on him too but he handled it like it was a normal Tuesday. His eyes watch you, sharp gaze softened by concern.
“You’re too quiet,” he said finally, his voice breaking the heavy silence.
You looked up at him, your lips pressing into a thin line. “What do you want me to say, Jungwon? That I’m fine? That everything’s okay?” you shook your head, your hands tightening into fists. “Because it’s not. My sister is in danger, we just got ambushed by Lloyd’s men, and you–” your voice caught and you looked away.
“Me?” Jungwon prompted, leaning forward despite the strain it put on his arm.
You couldn’t live with the thought. The horrifying thought that… you could have lost him. You stupid, idiotic, funny, loyal, and annoyingly handsome partner. How could you live with yourself if his dimpled smile wasn’t there to brighten any situation? How could you live with yourself if his grounding presence wasn’t there to calm you before missions? How could you… live without him?
Your voice was trembling now. “You could have died. Do you even understand that? If you hadn’t pulled me away from that grenade–” you cut yourself off, exhaling sharply.
He whispered your name, but you wouldn’t hear it.
“No, let me finish,” you said, your voice rising. “You threw yourself in harm’s way without even thinking, and I–” you buried your face in your hands, your body quivering like you had been reduced to some little girl- not a world class spy. “I can’t lose you. Not like this. Not when we’re so close, and when I still–”
He was in front of you before you could finish, he was crouching despite the sharp pain in his arm. He placed his hands gently on yours as he pried them away from your face. You met his gaze and it was sharp, like he could see to the depths of your soul.
“Hey,” he said softly, his voice steady. “I’m not going anywhere. Do you hear me? I’m right here, and we’re going to get that Codex. For your sister. For you. For us. But you’ve got to stop thinking the worst, or you’re going to drive yourself crazy.”
Your lower lip quivered but you nodded still. He was trying his hardest to comfort you, so despite the gnawing fear and doubt in your mind you believed him. Because when he was here with you, it felt like nothing in this world was impossible. Your eyes shimmered with tears, you refused to let fall, “You can't keep scaring me like this Jungwon.”
“I’ll try,” he said, his signature smirk softening into something more vulnerable and sincere. “But I’m not going to apologize for keeping you safe.”
You stared at him for a long moment, the weight of his words sinking in. He had done what he did, to protect you, he put his life on the line because he cared for you. Then something inside you broke– no, shifted. Before you could process what you were doing and meticulously overthink the consequences, your hands gripped the front of his shirt, and you kissed him.
It wasn’t soft or hesitant like the previous brushes of affection the two of you had. This kiss was deep, desperate, and full of the emotions that they two of you had buried for years. It was full of that desire that the two of you had danced around for so long. Your fingers curled tighter into his shirt, as though afraid he might disappear. He responded just as fiercely, his hands coming up to cradle your face, careful to avoid the still-tender bruises.
You couldn’t pull back from him- not until your last breath. Just like he had stood by your side promising to protect you till his last breath. But you had to when the air in your lungs ran out. Your forehead rested against each other as your breath came out in pants, mingling with his in the quiet room.
“I can’t lose you Jungwon.” you whispered out between pants. And this time when you looked into his deep brown eyes, you could finally decipher what they said. They declared his love and fear of losing you. But this time you didn’t dance around it. You faced the emotions head on, because now you finally had someone to love.
“Don’t get all mushy on me now sweetheart,” he said with a hint of his signature smirk in his voice, that now seemed to be something you could rely on no matter what.
Whatever this is, it isn’t perfect- far from it. But it's something that has been inevitable since you first saw the black haired man with his big boba eyes. And for a moment the tension lifted, and neither of you pulled away. You two stayed like that- close, vulnerable, and finally honest. It wasn’t easy and it definitely wasn’t perfect but it was real. And you knew that whatever came next, you would face it together.
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Whispers of the underworld led you to this shining city. Monaco. But it wasn’t a whispering voice that had threatened you. No- Lloyd’s voice was firm and dangerous. ’You think your petty little agency will be able to protect your precious sister? I know where she is, I will get her- so have fun with your little lover boy while it lasts.’ and that's when the radio message had cut off.
Your agency was keeping your sister in lockdown. Apparently she knew something about a key? The key to unlock the Phantom Codex. Not just Lloyd but every criminal was racing to find her. You weren’t naive though. You knew there was only so much the agency could do. Criminals had their resources and they would stop at nothing for power.
That’s the reason your body was so tense as you leaned against the railing of the balcony. The shimmering city with its population of only the world’s most elite was alive this evening. The luxury and sports cars were lined up in front of the Casino de Monte Carlo. You had a clear view of the location where the Phantom Codex would be held. Lloyd apparently hadn’t let it out of his sight since the moment he got his hands on it. He had kept moving so no one could track him and steal his prized possession. Tonight he was here, and you had your sights set on it. Lloyd had no business with your sister and her information about the key if he didn’t have the Codex itself.
You practically jumped out of your skin when you felt his hands snaking around your waist. You grew even tenser before letting yourself bask in the way his lips moved slowly down your neck towards your shoulder. You weren’t accustomed to his affection but you had to say you weren’t complaining.
“You’re tense sweetheart,” he murmured when his mouth was right next to your ear. His breath fanning your skin, sent shivers down your spine.
“You were there Jungwon, he’s threatening her. My sister’s life is on the line..” you say as you stop his roaming hands. You had a really important mission to complete tonight. But he looked so damn irresistible when he stepped in front of you with the top buttons of his shirt undone, his sleeves rolled up to his elbow, and his smirk on his pretty lips.
“Baby, you have to trust that the agency will do their part,” he said as his hands remained on your hips, his thumbs tracing small soothing circles.
“You know that bastard Jungwon. He has the resources and the nerve, if we don’t get the Codex this time then its not only going to be my sister-”
Jungwon rested his hands on your cheeks as he tilted your head so you looked him in the eyes. “Hey. We’re not losing. Not yet. And not ever. You’ve got me, okay? I won’t let anything happen to her– or you.”
The rational part of you wanted to argue, to remind him that you’d already failed too many times, but the way he looked at you, so steady so sure. It made the rational side of you crumble as you believed his promise. Before you could say another word, he leaned down, pressing a soft reassuring kiss to your lips.
You stiffened in surprise once again, still not used to this gentler side of Jungwon. It was worlds apart from the cocky, aggravating partner you had grown used to. And yet, you resolve softened as you kissed him back, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips when he pulled away.
“I’m telling you, I should be handed an award or something- no normal person can get you to shut up as fast as me,” he teased, his familiar grin returning.
You rolled your eyes but the faint color in your cheeks gave you away. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet, you kissed me anyway.”
Before you could retort, the shrill beeping of the burner phone you’d been using for intercepting communication interrupted you. Jungwon let his hands drop from your cheeks as he grabbed it. His face grew serious as he watched the small screen.
He held up the phone for you to see, “Lloyd is on the move,” he muttered, snapping the phone shut. “Looks like our Codex is on the move too.”
You nodded, already slipping into your professional mode. “Let’s go.”
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
The two of you were past all of the excitement and precarious bets of the casino, instead you were pressed behind a pillar. Lloyd and another criminal seemed to be having a meeting, maybe an alliance over the most powerful artifact in the world?
The air was filled with quiet but incriminating chatter as the two gave practiced smiles to each other. This was obviously going to end badly. So you planned to get the Codex and slip out before either of them noticed it was gone. It was almost time that the two powerful men would get up from the table to move to the bar. There was a sliver of opportunity when the Codex would be brought out by one of Lloyd’s men. Like you mentioned before- he wouldn’t let it out of his sight.
That would be the prime time where you could steal it right out of his dangerous hands and he wouldn’t even know till much later. That was the plan. The easiest, most simple plan. But there went Jungwon, with his killer instinct.
Right as the two men were about to move to the bar, some idiot criminal from the smaller leagues decided to get involved. You almost jumped in joy, this was perfect. All the focus was trained on that idiot and you and Jungwon could just slip in, get the Codex, and get out. You turned to tell Jungwon about the new plan- but when you turned to face him he was gone.
You cursed internally, you knew this would happen. Jungwon and his instinct, his need to do the right thing, his stupid moral compass. The criminal’s legs shook as he realized what a grave mistake he had made storming into the lion’s den. Jungwon though, didn’t seem to see the bigger picture. He stepped out from behind the marble pillar, his gun poised, he shot the two bodyguards that had the criminal in their grasp.
The criminal made a run for it but now the bullets rained onto you two. You forgot all about the Codex, in your mind now only one thought rang clear. Protect Jungwon. You lunged for him, pulling him back behind the pillar to shield him from the shower of hurt.
The men started making their way up the stairs but you were too fast. You grabbed Jungwon’s hand and pulled him behind you as you two ran for the window. The fall hurt, but not enough to forget the imminent danger the two of you would be in if you stayed here for any longer. You made a run for it and Jungwon wasn’t far behind. You were already fuming, this lead was very hard to find. It might even be your last one. Your last chance to protect your sister… After today’s events you knew Lloyd would try even harder to get to your sister. He didn’t want anything to hinder his progress to harness the power of the Codex.
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
In the hotel room you were done. You had worked night and day for that lead, for what?? For Jungwon to help some charity case of a criminal? The tension followed the two of you inside like an unwanted guest. Every inch of you was radiating fury. Jungwon walked in behind you, quiet for once, knowing that the storm was about to hit.
“You have got to be kidding me,” you snapped, spinning around to face him. Your voice was sharp and your eyes set ablaze. “What were you thinking, Jungwon?!?”
He sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I couldn’t just leave him there. He would’ve been killed.”
“And because of that, we lost the Codex. Again!” you shot back, your voice ringing. The fear of losing your sister was becoming far too real for your liking and right now- the only person to blame in your mind was Jungwon. “Do you even realize what’s at stake here? Do you even care?”
“Of course I care!” he said, his voice finally rising to meet yours. “But I’m not going to stand by and watch someone die if I can stop it.”
You laughed bitterly, throwing your hands into the air. “Great! You’re a hero. Congratulations!! Meanwhile Lloyd’s probably halfway across the world with the Codex. And you say that you can’t stand by and watch someone die?? Well that’s about to be my sister, and while you play the hero, I can’t even be there to save her life!”
Jungwon stepped closer, his jaw tight. “You think I don’t care about your sister? About the Codex? About you?”
“Actions speak louder than words Jungwon,” you said, your voice trembling with anger. “And your actions tonight told me that you’d rather play savior than focus on what actually matters.”
“Don’t you dare,” he said, his voice low and dangerous now. “Don’t you dare stand there and act like I don’t care. I’ve been right here with you, every step of the way. I’m the one who pulled you out of that explosion last week. I’m the one who's been patching you up after every mission.”
“And I’m the one who’s trying to keep us focused,” you snapped back. “You think I don’t see how reckless you are? How every time you're the one lets something slip, who makes us lose our lead?”
Jungwon took a step back, your words hitting him like a physical punch to the gut. “I’m doing my best, ___” he said, his voice quieter now but no less tense than before. “I’m not perfect, but I’m trying.”
“Trying isn’t good enough,” you said, your voice cracking. “We take so many lives everyday, it's our job. But you couldn’t let this one criminal die?? Even when my sister’s life is on the line??!”
There was a long pause, the weight of your words settling heavily between you two.
“You think I don’t know that?” he said finally. His voice was painstakingly raw. “You think I don’t feel that pressure every second of every day? That I don’t know if I screw up one more time, it’s all over?”
“Then why the hell do you keep screwing up?” you asked, your voice breaking now. You knew you were being unfair but you couldn't really bring yourself to care at the moment.
Jungwon looked away, his hands clenching at his sides. “Because I’m human, ___. I make mistakes. And yeah maybe I let my heart get in the way sometimes, but I’m not going to apologize for that.”
You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “Your heart? Is that what we’re calling it now??”
“Yes,” he said firmly, stepping closer again. “Because whether you want to admit it or not, I care about people. I care about you. And I’m sorry if that gets messy sometimes, but it's the truth.”
You froze, your breath catching. He cared… he cared for you. For a moment, you looked like you might say something but instead, you turned away, pressing your hands to your face. Rubbing your temple in frustration.
“This isn’t about me,” you said after a long pause, your voice muffled.
“No, it’s not,” he agreed. “It’s about us. About the mission. About everything we’ve been through together. And if you think for one second that I don’t care as much as you do, then you don’t know me at all.”
You dropped your hands, turning back once again to face him. Your eyes were glossy, your anger had faded away into something more vulnerable. “I don’t know if I did the right thing. I don’t know if kissing you was right. And I don’t know if I can keep doing this,” you said quietly.
Jungwon was stunned for a bit, but he spoke again, his voice softer now. “You can. And you will. Because you’re the strongest person I know. And because I’ve got your back, no matter what.”
You shook your head, a stray tear escaping and slipping down your cheek. “You could’ve died tonight Jungwon. And for what? A stranger?”
“No, for doing the right thing.” He said simply.
You stared at him for a long moment, your emotions warred within you. Your undeniable care and love for Jungwon, and your worry for your sister and the millions of lives at stake. Finally you sighed, your shoulders slumping. “I don’t even know what to say to you right now.”
“Then don’t say anything,” he said, stepping closer and gently reaching out to take your hand in his own. “Just trust me. Please.”
You couldn’t help the way your breath hitched yet again at his touch. You didn’t pull away, but you didn’t look at him either, closing your eyes and breathing slowly. “I’m tired of losing, Jungwon.”
His grip on your hand tightened. He felt some hope flicker within him. “We’re not going to lose. Not you, not your sister, not this mission. I promise you.”
You finally opened your eyes and met his eyes. They were desperate and apologetic. Your heart made your gaze soften and the tension eased for just a moment. But just as fast, you pulled your hand away, your brain taking over now. You were never too good at thinking with your heart anyway.
“Get some rest,” you said, your voice steadier but colder now. “We’ve got some serious work to do.”
You could almost see his heart shatter. But he didn’t say anything, he just watched as you walked farther away. Farther away from whatever you two had started, farther away from his grasp, farther from these complicated emotions. He sighed, running a hand through his hair again.
“Good talk,” he muttered to himself before slumping onto the couch, the weight of the mission— and your fractured partnership– weighing heavily on him.
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
You woke up in a daze as the incessant ringing of your laptop startled you out of your subconscious. You groaned as you sat up, the digital clock showed 4 A.M. You heaved your laptop from the bedside table and opened it. It showed a contact that looked suspiciously like… your sister??
You were suddenly wide awake as you accepted the call. “Hello? Sora? Is that you..?” you whispered. It looked like your sister, but her surroundings were dimly lit and she looked pale. Concern shot up inside you. “A-are you okay? Where is the agency keeping you?”
She was breathing hard, she looked around agitated, “Hey sis, slow down slow down. I’m okay- but I don’t have much time. I found something… about your Mrs. Kwon.”
You furrowed your eyebrows, Mrs. Kwon? Well she had been acting a bit on edge but this was a huge mission. Your voice wavered at her cautious tone and your chest tightened. “What’s wrong? And Sora, where are you? Did something happen?”
Sora hesitated before whispering, “I’m okay, I’m escaping from where the agency kept me. But Mrs. Kwon.. she’s planning to use it for herself.. I heard her talking about how the Codex would give her leverage over every agency in the world. She’s going to blackmail people, threaten them, and use it as a weapon to gain power. She doesn’t have the right intentions and she’s a dangerous woman with all that power already.”
Your mind reeled from the information, “No… that doesn’t make any sense. The agency, we’re supposed to stop people like Lloyd, not become like him. Mrs. Kwon hates people like him. She.. she wouldn’t do that.” But you knew that she could pull something like this off. Still.. It hurt. It hurt to finally find out that the organization you dedicated half your life to, thinking you were helping people, it actually was all a fluke.
Sora saw the confusion and the pit that was forming in your stomach. She sensed it through the screen. Her voice broke slightly. “I don’t think you know what’s really happening, _____. You can’t trust them, you can’t trust anyone. Please be careful. I’m scared for you.”
You swallowed hard, your throat tight. Still you manage to give her a reassuring smile that seemed uneasy anyway. “I’ll figure this out, Sora. Stay safe okay? I’ll take care of myself, I promise, and I’ll protect you too no matter what.”
Sora nodded and returned your smile before the screen went dark. You sat frozen, still stunned at the revelation, your mind spinning. The betrayal felt like a knife twisting in your gut. How could the place- no, the person you put so much trust into stab you in the back like this?? It was done, years of your life had been wasted away but you wouldn’t let Mrs. Kwon do this. You wouldn’t blatantly let her harm innocent people. In two quick actions, you grabbed the burner phone and took out the chip, crushing the feeble metal in your hand. Betrayal burned in the pit that had formed in your stomach, you would stop that crazy lady. No matter what.
You pushed open the adjoining door to Jungwon’s room. He was sprawled out on the bed, his chest rising and falling steadily, the faint glow of the moonlight casting soft shadows on his face. For a moment your breath hitched, he looked so peaceful, so ethereal, almost like an angel- but the memories from a few days ago started to rush in again. Your gaze went from starstruck to cold once more as you stepped closer to his bed.
“Jungwon,” you said quietly, but he didn’t stir.
You took a step closer as you gently nudged his shoulder. “Jungwon, wake up.”
He groaned as he rolled over to face you. His eyes were still closed though. “_____, if this is about my snoring again-”
“Get up,” you snapped, your voice cutting through his grogginess. How could he be talking about his obnoxious snoring right now?
He blinked up at you, his confusion quickly replaced with concern when he saw your expression. He was so attuned to your feelings… “What’s wrong?”
You crossed your arms, your jaw tight. “Sora called. She overheard something about the Codex and Mrs. Kwon.” you say as you sigh softly, the dread and betrayal still fresh in your mind.
Hearing about the Codex woke Jungwon up completely. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his expression serious now. “What did she say?”
You hesitated, your voice quieter now. God- even you couldn’t believe it yourself. “Mrs Kwon, she doesn’t want to destroy the Codex. She wants to use it— for blackmail, for power. Everything we’ve been through, risking our lives…. It's all been for nothing. It’s a lie Jungwon.”
Jungwon was shocked for a moment just as you were. His mouth opened but no words came out. You could see the gears turning in his head. Despite your recent… differences, you knew he had risked his life for it too. You knew he had been through what you had for the Codex. He felt the same way you did. He ran a hand through his hair, his brows furrowed, “are you sure about this?”
“She overheard it directly,” you say as you start pacing around the room, feeling restless. “And she told me not to trust anyone. Not the agency, not anyone.”
He leaned back against his hands, exhaling sharply. “Well that’s just great. So, we’re completely on our own now? I mean we can’t just go back there and ask Mrs. Kwon to stop being evil nicely right?”
You rolled your eyes at his childish words, you stopped pacing to shoot him a glare. “Pretty much. Which means we need to figure out what to do next.”
Jungwon observed you carefully. Your shoulders tensed, your eyes absolutely refusing to meet his voluntarily, and your not so gentle bite of your lip. “You’re still mad.” Jungwon voiced, softly.
You turned away from him but your shoulders were still tense. “Mad doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
“Hey,” he said, his voice impossibly softer now, “I get it. I messed up. But right now, we’ve got bigger problems than my poor decision-making skills.”
“You think I don’t know that??” you snapped, spinning to face him. The fire now present in your eyes as you met his. “But I can’t just pretend everything’s fine when it’s not. You almost got us killed for some random criminal. And now Sora is out of any semblance of protection because of our stupid agency.”
He stood up. His expression was unreadable but a hint of determination lingered in his eyes as he approached you. “You’re right. I screwed up. But if there’s one thing you should know by now, it's that I’m not going to give up. Not on the mission. Not on people. And definitely not on you.”
Your breath hitched, damnit, he was making those stupid unnecessary nagging feelings bubble in your chest. But you quickly looked away as you spoke in an ice cold tone. “Don’t do this. Don’t make this about us Jungwon. This is about the mission. About Sora. About—”
“This is about everything,” he didn’t back down. Instead his tone was firm as he continued. “And whether you like it or not, we’re in this together. So, you can stay mad at me if you want, but I’m not going anywhere.”
You clenched your fists. You hated this, the way you even had to choose between your anger and the comfort his words provided. But even after all of what had happened- you could never bring yourself to hate him. “Fine. But don’t expect me to trust you like I used to.”
“I’ll earn it back” he said easily like it was the simplest thing in the world. His gaze never faltered either. And as much as you hated to admit it, in this uncertain time you were glad to have Jungwon there. At least you knew you had someone who would never tire of you. Who was there even if he made your blood boil.
You held his gaze as you challenged him silently. But he never backed down.. He never gave up on you. You broke away from his eyes as you sighed deeply. “We need a plan.”
Jungwon nodded. “Then let’s make one, yeah? Together.”
You didn’t respond but still silently sat down at the small desk to start mapping out your next move. You couldn’t help but glance at him from the corner of your eye. For all his flaws, you knew one thing for certain— Jungwon would fight for you, for Sora, for this mission. And no matter how angry you were, part of you couldn’t help but feel grateful for that.
After destroying the chip in Jungwon’s burner phone too, you both sat down with your own laptops. It was time to dig, for a lead, for a radio message, for anything that would help.
It took a while, but after multiple hours of trying to find something- anything a lead popped up. Lloyd had become sloppy with one of his radio messages. He had said something about going underground for a while. His estate in Russia, no one would be idiotic enough to penetrate his heavily guarded and almost unreachable mansion…. Except the two of you of course.
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
The storm raged over the sprawling Russian estate, casting an ominous shadow over the towering walls and wrought iron gates. Lightning illuminated the sprawling mansion, its sharp spires cutting into the dark sky. Dark walls with crawling vines seemed to threaten and ward off anyone who dared to enter. Icy rain poured down in sheets as it soaked through the gear that adorned your body. The sound of thunder masked the faint rustle of movement as you and Jungwon crouched in the dense shadows near the perimeter.
“This place screams ‘villain lair’” Jungwon mutters, his breath annoyingly warming up the back of your neck. He adjusted the hood of his black jacket against the freezing rain.
“Focus,” You said sharply, your voice barely audible over the wind. You didn’t spare him a glance, your gaze fixed on the towering structure ahead. More specifically on the armed men who were about to exchange shifts in just a matter of minutes.
Jungwon sighed, casting a sidelong glance at you. “Wow you sound like you’re going to bite my head off. Personally, I think you should wait until after we grab the Codex to kill me, yeah?”
You didn’t respond. Pressing on to the side entrance you were going to infiltrate. It didn’t help that this was the most important mission of your life. The Codex was finally in your sight again. Not to mention that Sora was still on the move. No place was safe for her as long as the Codex was at large. It was also absurdly hard to get here after you had gone MIA from the agency. Mrs. Kwon seemed to have gone crazy because she stopped some of the most important missions to employ the agents to search for you and Jungwon.
But what was worse was the ever annoying tension. It was cold and biting like the air that howled around you two. You didn’t like to say that you held a grudge, but your anger still lingered like a storm of its own. And though Jungwon tried to break through it with his normal flattery and charm, you wouldn’t budge. Not yet.
You moved once again the moment the men turned their backs to change shifts. Stopping by the gate, you pressed yourself against the wall as you were met with the high tech digital lock. “This is it,” you whispered as you nodded to the door. The lock looked a bit advanced but it's nothing you couldn't handle. You knelt as you connected your hacking device into the lock. Your fingers were steady despite the icy rain that soaked through your gloves.
Jungwon knelt beside you, watchful eyes scanning their surroundings. “Still can’t believe you stayed mad this long. You know, if we die here, it’ll make for a tragic love story.”
You shot him a glare for bringing your personal relationships (or lack thereof) into the conversation. “If we die here, it’ll be because you can’t stop running your mouth.”
Not even a minute after the lock clicked. You pushed the door open and closed it just as the next guards arrived for their patrol.
The interior of the mansion was cold and dark, the air heavy with the scent of damp stone and expensive leather. You moved in silence, your footsteps muffled by the thick carpet as you made your way towards the vault. You had to snicker at the hideous pictures of Lloyd that decorated the walls. Him in nothing but leopard fur, him showing off his (nonexistent) muscles, one with two girls fawning over him, and yet another where he was sitting on a pony?? Goes to show just how self centered he was.
You kept your focus sharp as you two sneaked silently towards the vault. You were blatantly ignoring how Jungwon’s presence at your side felt like both a comfort and an annoyance . You couldn’t afford to be distracted right now anyways.
Jungwon, for his part, stole glances at you whenever he could. The tension between you was eating away at him. He hated the thought that you didn’t trust him anymore. He thought about this every time, but today it felt more real. This mission could be your last, and he would hate to have that happen with you still angry at him.
The vault was hidden behind a bookshelf in one of the many studies this estate had. You had thoroughly researched beforehand. There shouldn’t be any people in this part of the estate right now. You turned to Jungwon abruptly as both of you got in place. Your tone was just the slightest bit accusatory as you gave him an unreadable look. “Once we are inside, you know the plan. No distractions, no detours.”
“Understood boss,” Jungwon said, his hands raising in mock surrender. The two of you tugged at the two dark blue books on each side of the study. There was some mechanical whirring behind the door, as it opened with a hiss. The huge metal vault sparkled at you, just the menacing door stood before you and the Codex now.
You ignored the jab and turned back to the vault door. It was protected by an intricate keypad and a biometric scanner. You pulled out the small device again as you started working once again. The gloves you wore would bypass the scanner no problem.
“Time’s ticking..” Jungwon murmured, his ears on high alert for any sound outside the closed study door.
“Almost… there” you said your voice tight with concentration.
The lock disengaged with a heavy click, and the vault door creaked open. Inside, the metal room glimmered with Lloyd’s wealth. Gold bars, stacks of cash, priceless artifacts, ancient jewelry, huge jewels. But at the center of the room, bathed in the glow of a single overhead light, was the long behold Phantom Codex.
The codex was exactly as you had remembered it. How could you forget the piece of tech that had basically ruined your life anyway? Obsidian black, diamond shaped, etched with glowing cerulean symbols. It seemed alive, faintly humming as you listened carefully. You had to shake your head so you didn’t get entranced like everyone had at the gala in Paris.
“There it is,” you whispered, your breath catching.
“Finally,” Jungwon said, carelessly stepping forward. But before he could even take a single step closer the floor detected his weight. In an instant, lasers shot from the walls as ear blasting sirens rang through the sound of the storm.
“MOVE!!” you shouted, as you dodged the lasers skilfully but Jungwon beat you to it. He snatched the Codex from the pedestal.
“I’ve got it, lets go!!” he yelled as the both of you could hear the thunder of the probably hundreds of guards all swarming to your location.
You both made your way outside the study. You could taste the adrenaline as the window in front of you taunted you. But this time you would do it. This was your escape, your victory.
Jungwon ran as fast as he could, his focus was on the window just the same as you. The pounding of boots and shouting of the men spurred the two of you to go even faster. You were just a few steps behind him.
That’s when you stopped. The bullet flew through the air as you felt time stop. Your eyes darted to Jungwon’s retreating figure, then to the guards that grew closer. The bullet pierced your abdomen. You felt the stinging pain, not from the blood that stained your gear– no. It was from the realization that this was it.
Still you didn’t care. Jungwon had secured the Codex, he would do what’s right. And you had to protect him no matter what. Instead of running to Jungwon, you turned your back to him. Facing the absurd amount of guards that closed in onto you. For Jungwon.
But while you tackled one guard to the floor, you knew it. There were way too many. You still placed a kick to another one as they surrounded you. You were sloppy, your movements too slow. Another guard grabbed your arm as suddenly, someone else lifted the butt of their rifle, bringing it down onto your back harshly. You felt pain through your entire being as you inevitably blacked out, watching the window shatter just like your freedom.
You fell unconscious. Your body crumpled.
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Jungwon jumped through the window. The glass shards cutting his face as the rain immediately greeted him in the courtyard. He clutched the Codex tightly against his chest. He turned back, adrenaline and victory coursing through him. He expected to see you, standing victoriously beside him. That satisfactory smirk gracing your lips anytime you both succeeded in a mission.
But his heart dropped. There was no sight of you. He felt his blood run cold as his chest felt like it was caving in on him. No! This couldn’t be happening. He didn’t feel the tears stream down his face because of the rain that poured down onto him.
You were captured. Gone from his protection into Lloyd’s demonic hands. His hands shook as he held onto the Codex. He promised himself that he would get it for you. But not like this. Not at this cost. “DAMNIT!!” He yelled your name as his brain finally caught up with the events happening.
Fear for you clawed in Jungwon’s chest, but more than that white hot rage burned through him. So much so that it threatened to consume his whole being. The what-ifs of what Lloyd could do lingered in his mind for just a moment, but they disappeared the moment he imagined you at that bastard’s mercy. His hands clenched and his jaw set as he stared back at the estate. No rational thought in his mind. He couldn’t think of anything else– didn’t want to. The mission, the Codex, everything else blurred into insignificance. You were all that mattered.
Jungwon moved through the stone halls like a man possessed. He was soaked to the core but he didn’t once shiver. He let himself think with his instinct and his instinct alone. Something you probably would have reprimanded him for. But it was his instinct that was guiding him to you.
The guards who crossed his path didn’t stand a chance. Anyone who dared to move towards him was struck with precision and speed. His movements were raw and fueled by a fire that burned hot inside him. A punch to the throat, a kick to the ribs, a quick disarm— he left them crumpled in his wake, barely sparing them a second glance.
The Codex was clutched tightly in his hand. The dark obsidian surface shone with rain. Every time some stupid guard tried to grab it, he twisted away, taking them down before they could make a move. Like the big burly men were some flies he needed to flick away.
He was there, he was at the inner sanctum now. He was breathing hard and his gaze deathly. His focus never wavering.
The room where you were being held was flanked by at least ten guards. They stiffened at the sight of Jungwon, their weapons raised. But the sight of his gaze and rigid form struck fear into their hearts.
Jungwon didn’t slow down. “Get out of my way,” he growled out. His voice was low, dangerous, and shaking with rage.
The guards still stupidly didn’t budge.
Jungwon lifted the artifact that they all were after up high. “If you idiots don’t move. I’ll destroy this thing right here and now.”
The threat worked. The guards exchanged glances. Debating if they should really move and face Lloyd’s wrath or Jungwon’s. One of them moved and the others followed. Their eyes showed uncertainty but watching Jungwon move swiftly they knew they would have been done for if they hadn’t.
Jungwon almost broke the heavy wooden door down, his heart pounding as his eyes immediately sought you.
The room was dim, the occasional burst of lightning illuminating it. It was freezing cold and Jungwon observed how there were no guards inside. You were on your knees in the center of the room. Your hands tied behind your back in a rough grip that would leave your wrists red. Your hair was damp still, plastered to your forehead. But your expression remained fierce. Your head held high despite the position you were in. You refused to give in to Lloyd no matter what.
Your heart leaped in frustration and unbelievable relief as Jungwon burst through the door. It was so damn frustrating that he had done this, risked his life and the lives of so many others just for… you. Only for you. You couldn’t help but observe how rigid his form was. The moment he lifted his head to look at Lloyd, it scared you. You had never seen him this uncontrolled, this angry.
Lloyd was stood behind you with a gun pressed to the back of your head. His face split into a wicked, wide, mocking grin as Jungwon entered the room. The Codex sparkling blue in his grip.
“Well well,” he drawled, his voice oozing amusement. “The knight in shining armor returns. I must admit, I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to come back for your little girlfriend.”
Jungwon’s gaze was locked on you. His fury only heightened once he saw how Lloyd was holding you at gunpoint. He shook his head as he straightened up. “You don’t understand what I’d do for her.” he said his voice barely audible but full of anger.
“Jungwon!! NO!!!” you shouted, finding your voice once again. “You shouldn’t be here!! Take the Codex and go!!” The shout made your bullet wound in your abdomen sting with unbearable pain, as you gritted your teeth.
Lloyd chuckled, amused by the little display. He menacingly nudged the barrel of the gun into your skull. “Listen to her boy. She’s smarter than you are.”
Jungwon ignored the both of you. His expression was hard, no one could tell what ran through his mind. His focus was entirely you. The grip he had on the Codex tightened. “Let her go, Lloyd!”
Lloyd almost laughed. He raised his eyebrows “and what position are you in to make that demand? Besides, why would I do that?? She’s quite the leverage. You hand over the Codex, or I blow her pretty little brains out.”
“Jungwon!!” you said in a warning tone, a certain urgency in your voice. “Don’t. Don’t give it to him. It’s not worth it. I did this so you could escape!! SO GO DAMMIT!!”
Jungwon’s heart clenched at the barely masked fear in your voice. His mind still pissed that you cared more about the stupid artifact more than yourself. How could you be so blind? You had to have known. To Jungwon, nothing mattered but you. “You want the Codex? Fine. Take it.”
“Jungwon no!!!” You yelled in vain.
He strode across the room and without hesitation, Jungwon tossed the Codex across the room. It landed at Lloyd’s feet, and the bastard’s grin widened.
“Ah~ the hero sacrifices everything for the damsel. How predictable.” Lloyd kicked the Codex aside and turned his evil eyes toward Jungwon again. “But you’re a fool if you think this ends well for you.”
He cocked the gun.
Jungwon moved before Lloyd could even think to pull the trigger.
With lightning speed, he lunged forward, grabbing a knife from his belt and throwing it with deadly accuracy. His fury at its peak, his vision completely red. The blade sank into Lloyd’s shoulder, forcing him to drop the gun and stagger back with a howl of pain.
You fell forward as the gun was wrenched away from him, landing hard on the cold stone tiles.
Jungwon couldn’t see anything but rage. He was already on Lloyd, tackling him to the ground and landing a flurry of punches. The sickening sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed through the empty chamber. The only other sounds being Lloyd’s groaning and Jungwon’s labored breathing.
“THIS IS FOR HER!!” Jungwon growled loudly, slamming Lloyd’s head into the floor. The crack of his skull was loud and clear, but Jungwon didn’t seem to hear it. “For all the people you’ve made suffer. For everyone you’ve hurt. For everything you’ve done!”
Lloyd was done. He was lifeless, his body limp but Jungwon didn’t stop. Jungwon didn’t think of any intel, of what use he could have been. All he could think of was slamming his skull into the floor over and over and-
“Jungwon stop!” your voice cut through his haze of rage.
His eyes seemed to finally refocus as the anger slowly dissipated. His heart clenched when he looked over his shoulder at how you were struggling to your feet, your hands still bound.
“He’s done..” you said in a soft whisper. “We need to go.”
Jungwon’s chest heaved as he stared down at Lloyd, who was lifeless. After he scowled at him, his eyes narrowing, he nodded and stood. Pocketing the gun that laid close to Lloyd. He picked up the damned Codex before making his way towards you.
No words were exchanged between the two of you as Jungwon untied your hands with surprising gentleness. Considering how angry he had just been it was astonishing how he handled you like a porcelain doll. The moment that your hands were free, you threw your arms around him, burying your face into his strong chest. You felt an inexplicable amount of relief and warmth as you were finally able to wrap your arms around him once again.
“You… you’re an idiot, Yang Jungwon.” you whispered, your voice shaking as Jungwon felt you wet his jacket that he wore. He hugged you back tightly. His hands wrapped around your whole body as he pulled you close to him. You cursed as the pain shot up in your abdomen once more.
He immediately pulled back as his hands rested carefully on your hips, “___?? What’s wrong?” he said with big boba eyes that showed nothing but concern.
“I’m okay won, just got shot.” you told him, the smile on your face looking like an idiotic grin. The tears still shone bright in your eyes. You ran your fingers through his soft locks as your eyes darted trying to memorize every single detail of his beautiful face.
“Just???-” he was about to tell you off, when the door flew open. The remaining guards poured into the room, guns drawn and shouting commands in Russian.
You and Jungwon immediately broke apart, your instincts kicking in. Jungwon reached for Lloyd’s gun in his pocket while you ducked behind him, your sharp eyes scanning for an opening.
“We’re not out of this yet,” Jungwon muttered, his tone laced with a mixture of irritation and exhilaration.
You smirked at him despite the chaos. The dynamic between you two undeniably felt right again, “thought you liked dramatic exits.”
Jungwon tilted his head, just barely dodging a bullet that whizzed past. “That I do.”
Jungwon fired a few warning shots wildly into the air. Forcing the guards to take cover as the two of you darted for the hallway. The storm still raged outside but there was a hint of blue skies not too far from the gray clouds. Thunder rumbled as the pair of you sprinted through the sprawling mansion. The ache in your abdomen was still present but you could bear it, because the taste of freedom was too sweet.
“You could’ve reminded me about the cavalry!” Jungwon called out over his shoulder as you rounded a corner, narrowly avoiding another group of guards.
You scoffed, breathless but focused. “I didn’t think you would be stupid enough to actually throw the Codex to Lloyd, but here we are.”
Jungwon laughed, his sweet stupid laugh. It rang out in your ears the sweetest melody you’d ever heard. “Anything for you babe! You know that.”
You couldn't afford the butterflies raging within you, but god you couldn’t stop them either. Just like the foolish grin that spread across your face.
The hallways seemed endless, a labyrinth of opulent decor and deadly ambushes. Guards spilled out from doorways, but you and Jungwon moved in a seamless unit. You kicked a marble bust, sending it crashing into the path of the pursuers, while Jungwon threw his knife that found its mark in another guard’s leg.
Finally, the mansion’s main entrance came into view, its grand double doors flanked by a pair of guards. You didn’t slow down one bit though, your mind racing. You didn’t have a plan sure, but you had Jungwon and his killer instinct. “Left or right?” you hissed at Jungwon.
“Both,” his eyes twinkled as he veered right.
You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the burst of joy as you saw the look in his eyes. You darted to the left, sliding low as you kicked one guard’s feet out from under him. Jungwon tackled the other, knocking his weapon away before landing a solid punch to his jaw.
The doors were pushed open by the two of you as the storm had seemed to ease up a bit. Rain still softly pelted you as you bolted down the stone steps toward the row of motorcycles parked outside. You flipped off the estate in the background, the grin not leaving your face. “HA!! You bastards!!”
You let out a breathless laugh as the two of you mounted the Kawasaki Ninjas. You grinned at Jungwon, for the first time in a while feeling the thrill of freedom and success. “How’d you know I’d have these ready?”
Jungwon revved the engine, smirking at you, “Because you’re you.”
“And what does that mean?”
“It means you're crazy detailed and brilliant as hell.”
Your stomach flipped at the unexpected sincerity in his tone, but there was no time to dwell on it. The two of you sped off into the night. Kicking back gravel and mud in your wake. Shots were being fired into the air but you were too far from the estate to worry about any of that.
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
The cool night air softly tousled your hair. The two roaring engines fell silent as the bikes came to a stop at a beach by the road. The two of you were far off the path of the storm and far enough away that Lloyd’s men weren’t catching up anytime soon. The air was biting at your skin but still it was calm. The only sound was the rhythmic crashing of the waves. The scene in front of you was truly breathtaking. Gray sands giving away to dark waves. Except the fact that the waves weren’t as black as they seemed. On occasion as some of them crashed onto the shore, they lit up to be an azure blue. Bioluminescence graced the waves curves and foam.
You had time to think. And while on the ride here you contemplated. Jungwon had done something foolish that had no guarantee of working out. But by some godly will it did. You couldn’t help but be just a bit pissed that you risked your life for him just for him to save you in the end. There was a small part of you that said to tell him off for it. Now that you were past the rush of adrenaline you could think clearly once more.
Jungwon had hopped off the bike shaking the water out of his hair. You couldn’t help but stop and stare for a second as he looked angelic. The moonlight illuminated his pale skin and the moon itself shone bright in his eyes. It’s like he was struck by the beauty of the moon. His broad shoulders tensed when he looked at you. Standing with your arms crossed and an unreadable expression on your face.
“I hope you know I’m not letting you off the hook. That was stupid what you did.” You say trying to sound stern but there was no real bite to your voice.
“I heard you loud and clear the first time.” He said with a chuckle leaning casually on his bike.
You huffed at his nonchalant attitude as you strode towards him. You poked his chest hard. “You threw the Codex at Lloyd like a fool! Do you realize how reckless that was?? You-“
“Saved your life?” He interrupted. His hand laced his fingers with yours as he leaned in closer. His voice dropped to something deeper, more serious.
You were frozen in place. It’s like your brain shut off once again when his hand was grasped in yours. He was way too close too. You could see the soft shadows so his eyelashes and his deep dimple poked out as he smirked. You opened your mouth to say something but the words died on your lips. He was right, he had saved your life. Again. You hated when he was right- you were supposed to be the smart one. You stared at him as your heart pounded for reasons you couldn’t entirely blame on anger.
“You put the entire world in danger,” you whispered, as if saying anything louder would break this perfect moment. “For me.”
His smirk softened into a smile as he brought his other hand up. Tucking a piece of damp hair behind your ear. His hand lingered for just a moment too long. He stared at you with so many emotions you couldn’t decipher them all. “Baby… you are my world.”
Your breath hitched. You were rendered completely speechless. The only sound was the waves beating on the shore and the thump of your heartbeat. The petname, the way his hand was still in yours, the way his eyes softened just for you. You didn’t think anymore, letting your instincts take over. Just like he would have done.
You grabbed him by the collar of his jacket as you stared into his moonlit eyes before your gaze landed on his lips. You shoved him against the side of his parked bike.
“You’re impossible.” You muttered, but the way your lips twitched threatening a smile betrayed your resolve.
“And you love it” jungwon managed to shoot back. His grin faltered the moment you pulled him down by his collar.
Your lips met in a collision of fire and fury, a kiss born of unspoken emotions and pent-up tension. It wasn’t soft or tentative; it was deep, desperate, and raw. The way your mouths moved in sync like they were trying to make up for lost time. The kiss was sure and firm.
His lips were soft, plump, and pillowy just as you had remembered them. You couldn’t lie and say that you hadn’t missed him. The way he slightly smiled into the kiss. His tongue darting out to trace the outline of your lower lip.
His hands found your waist. Making sure to be extra careful that he didn’t irritate the wound on your abdomen. But the way he slightly tightened his grip when his tongue finally entered your mouth, he was holding on like you might slip away again if he lets go.
Your hands were in his dark and damp locks as your knuckles curled around his soft hair. You tugged slightly, earning a low groan from him that vibrated against your mouth. The sound makes shivers run down your spine.
You pressed him harder against the bike. Your body molded to his in a way that felt like you were trying to crawl into his skin. His hands roamed over your back as he traced soft patterns, grounding you like an anchor in the moment.
“Jungwon-“ you whined when he pulled away for a breath. The sound only made him cup your cheek as he angled your head while he went in again. You couldn’t resist whimpering against his mouth when he caressed your cheeks with so much tenderness you could melt.
It wasn’t just a kiss— it was a release, a declaration, an unspoken promise. The world faded into the background, nothing seeming to matter more than the two of you right now. It only left the two of you, connected in a way that felt inevitable.
When you finally pulled apart, your breaths came in ragged gasps. Your forehead rested against his and your hands remained on his shoulder. You looked into his eyes. And you knew this was right, you’d never felt anything more intense than this. You needed Jungwon and the way he stared right back at you, you knew he needed you too.
“You drive me up a wall Jungwon. Don’t ever scare me like that again.” You whispered. Your voice breaking.
Jungwon chuckled softly as he ran his thumb over your cheek with love in his eyes. His own breathing uneven, “no promises.”
You stayed like that for a few moments. Wrapped up in each other. Just enjoying the other’s presence and touch. But you stepped back slowly, your hands trailing down Jungwon’s built chest before falling to your sides. Your gaze dropped to the object that stuck out of his pocket— the Phantom Codex, its dark, intricate surface glinting in the moonlight.
You slipped it out of his pocket. Staring at some stupid piece of tech that almost ruined your life and the lives of many more innocent people. The blue hue that it exuded along with the faint whisper of the symbols moving were almost trying to convince you to stop. But without hesitation you held it up in the air before slamming it against the asphalt with all your strength.
It was done. The Codex shattered into a million pieces, shards scattering across the sand. The sound echoed briefly before being swallowed by the night.
You straightened your posture as you turned to Jungwon. It was gone. Your sister was free and Mrs. Kwon’s evil plan had come to a halt. Your eyes were a mix of joy, fierceness, and determination.
“It’s over.” You stated simply.
Jungwon nodded, a small, proud smile tugging at his lips. He slipped his hand on your shoulder as he pulled you close once again. His lips brushed against the crown of your head. “It is.”
You had to gasp softly as the horizon began to blush with the first rays of dawn. Jungwon’s arm fell as he stared in awe at the world slowly emerging once again from the embrace of the night. The golden light stretched over the waves, illuminating the water in hues of pink and gold. The storm had long passed, and the gentle breeze carried the salty tang of the sea. The world was quiet, peaceful.
You felt the breeze nip at your skin as you hugged your arms around yourself. Jungwon noticed and he silently draped his jacket over your shoulders. You glanced at him, your lips curving into a small smile you didn’t bother hiding.
“You’re really laying it on thick aren’t you?” You teased, still pulling the jacket closer.
“Can you blame me?” Jungwon replied with a grin. He stepped closer to you standing by your side with his hands in his pocket like he wasn’t just making out with you a minute ago. “It’s not everyday I get to watch the sunrise with the love of my life who happens to be the woman who also saved the world.”
You tried to hide your blush but it crept up on you anyway. Your smile softened as your gaze returned to the horizon. The rising sun painting your face with warmth. You looked like you were glowing to Jungwon. But even with the warmth your thoughts were heavy. “We didn’t save the world- there is no saving it. We just stopped it from getting worse.”
“Same difference,” Jungwon said lightly. “And we’re not done yet.”
You nodded, your eyes scanning the open sea that stretched in front of you. “We’re on the run now. The agency won’t stop hunting us”
Jungwon smirked. Hid confident aura returning, “let them try princess. We’ve outsmarted Lloyd and destroyed the Codex. What’s a few corporate nerds?”
You rolled your eyes but you couldn’t suppress the laugh that escaped your lips. “You really don’t know how to take anything seriously, do you?”
“Not true,” he said, stepping even closer as his voice softened,. “I take us seriously.”
Your heart skipped a beat as you looked away desperately trying to hide the blush and idiotic grin that threatened to break. “Don’t get all sappy on me now.”
“Too late.” He grinned , reaching out to brush some hair out of your face. “____, we’re free now. No rules, no lies, no one pulling the strings but us. We can make a real difference, fight the way we want to fight.”
Your expression shifted, the weight of his words settling over you. For years, you had operated within a system that used people like tools. Simply sacrificing lives for power plays. Now, standing here with the man who had saved you from danger and yourself multiple times, you felt the stirrings of something your prior life hasn’t allowed: hope.
The sun crept higher. It’s light washing away the remnants of the night, and with it, the shadows of your past.
“If we are going into this chaotic world of crime, corrupt organizations, and horrible people. I’m glad you’re the one I’m doing this with.” Jungwon said suddenly.
You could hear your heart beating in your ears as you grinned like an idiot. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me Jungwon.” You wrapped your arms around his neck as you took him in again.
“No one I’d rather be with,” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours.
It was morning now. The sun had finally risen. The path ahead was clear despite the dangers that lurked at every turn. The rays washed both of you in warmth as your lips met for the nth time. Your life had only just begun, and it was going to be a wild ride.
#jungwon x reader#enhypen x reader#yang jungwon#jungwon scenarios#yang jungwon x reader#jungwon x you#jungwon x y/n#Jungwon smut#enha x reader#jungwon enhypen#Jake#heeseung#jay#Niki#jungwon fluff#enhypen au#enhypen oneshots#enhypen x y/n#enhypen x female reader#yang jungwon angst#Hoonjayke for inspo for the outline!!
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Doctor's In - Part 9
Wanda Maximoff x Doctor!R
Summary: New Year, new... relationship challenges? Sharing a home isn't all fun and games.
A/N: Everyone, please don’t tell me how much you hate where this story is going just because it seems like R will cheat on Wanda. There’s more to the plot and it’s not something I’m doing just randomly, I’m spending time and effort into creating a fic that is a bit more nuanced or at least I hope it is.
Natasha is not a people person.
Which is funny, considering her profession. She’s created a system that allows her to interact with patients as little as possible, and to focus on what she understands best: the human heart.
Not as a metaphor for sentimental stuff, but as a perfect machine.
She’s out of her element now, and considering the stupid drunk that is shouting in the middle of the ER, Natasha thinks it’s better to check if you’re around later.
“Is anybody going to take a look at this?” the man raises his messed up hand, slurring his words. He approaches Natasha, and she busies herself reading a chart. “Are you going to help or not, hot stuff?”
“I don’t work here” she grumbles, deciding that she’ll have to wait for you somewhere else.
“I was hoping you could take care of me. Where are you going? I'm talking to you” he says when she turns to leave, his good hand flying to grab her by the elbow.
Natasha is ready to throw a punch, but she never feels his touch in any part of her body.
“Lay a hand on her and I will strap you to a hospital bed and give you a colonoscopy without anesthesia” you say, surprising him with your strenght. “Now, sir, sit the fuck down and someone will be with you shortly”
“I’ll handle it” Barnes, the new nurse, approaches with his signature frown. He is equally attractive and terrifying, though most of the nurses ignore the latter.
“Thank you” you smile, watching the man become quiet as Barnes grabs him by the shoulder, knowing he won’t be able to say anything stupid to him. “Hi, Nat”
“Hey, stranger” she smiles at you. “I was hoping I’d run into you here”
“Is that why you were wandering the ER? You could just text me” you smile, walking with her to the cafeteria. “My shift ended an hour ago, which is why I wasn’t the one dealing with that asshole”
“Thank you for that, you are such a gentlewoman. I am dissapointed, though. I was hoping you’d stay for our first lesson today”
“Of course I am. I wouldn’t miss it for the world”
Most of the hospital was buzzing with excitement at learning the new surgical technique that had earned Melina Romanoff a Nobel Prize. The exception was Tony, but that was only because he was convinced the Romanoffs had a secret, evil plot to take over. Even Pepper had told me to chill in front of everyone.
You sit at the front, saving a spot for Darcy and follow every word Natasha says. She’s just going over some of the theory and the process of how the research came to be, which is still very interesting to you. Medical research required patience and focus that you did not have, so you had turned your professional development to trauma, as well as search and rescue training.
“We’ll meet on Wednesday to start the first exercises” she finishes the presentation, and winks at you discreetly.
You smile, leaving the conference room, Darcy right behind you.
“What was that?”
“What? Were you expecting exercises from the get go?”
“I meant the wink. Why was she winking at you?” Darcy insists and you shrug your shoulders.
“I don’t know. Friends wink at each other. I wink at you!”
“If you winked at me, I’d think you’re having a stroke” Darcy insists, and you have to roll your eyes. “It was flirty”
“Natasha knows about my relationship, we are just friends” you say, eager to finish the conversation.
“I just think there’s something fishy about this”
“You too? Stark got to you, Lewis” you mock, nudging her shoulder. “Come on, it’s all fine. I gotta get home, though, I forgot to tell Wanda I was staying longer”
“I hope she kicks your ass for that!” Darcy says as you run out of the hospital.
“Yeah, yeah”
As you drive home, you stop by the shopping street to get Wanda some flowers. You don’t think she’ll be too upset about you being late, but it never hurts to be safe.
Still, as you park in the driveway, you take a couple of minutes inside your car, looking at your old home in the rearview mirror.
Truth be told… you’re stalling. Though you love everyone inside the Maximoff house very much, you’ve had so much work these past two weeks, and it’s always a bit exhausting to get home and find the kids running around or Pietro complaining about something.
As someone who went from living alone to sharing a house with four other people full time, it was definitely overwhelming to say the least.
You take a last, deep breath and step inside the house, Pietro watching a show while the twins play in the backyard.
“You’re late” he comments.
“Work stuff” is all you say, not feeling in the mood to justify your tardiness to someone who isn’t Wanda.
But, as you enter the kitchen and your eyes meet hers, you can tell she’s also a little upset.
“Sorry, work ran long” you apologize, offering the flowers. She tries to smile and you put them down on the counter. “I really am sorry, Wands”
“No, it’s ok. I’m just behind with the book and the kids were a little difficult today… I could have used your help, that’s all”
I could have used some rest, you want to say, but that won’t help. It’s not forever, you keep thinking. Pietro will get better and move out, and things will be less crowded.
“I’ll be here all day tomorrow, I can take care of anything you need” you promise, saying goodbye to the prospect of a good nap. To keep yourself busy, you take out stuff to make a sandwich, sighing when you notice you’re out of cheese. “Like going to the grocery store, I guess”
Pietro keeps eating everything and by the time you’re home, there’s barely any food left.
“And you’re coming to the twins game on Wednesday, right?”
“Oh” you pause, scratching your neck. “I have to go to the hospital”
“Again? It seems like you’re there all week” Wanda protests.
“Well, yeah, we’re understaffed, between people being sick and others taking time off. I have to go and head the department, it’s my job, Wanda” you say, suddenly not hungry.
Nothing’s enough, you’re not good enough.
“I just… miss you. That’s all” Wanda says, and you sigh, feeling like an asshole.
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s always crazy during January, plus we’re doing a new training with a doctor from Boston. Things will settle in a couple of weeks, I promise”
“Ok” she nods, smiling as you approach her, kissing her temple. “But you’ll have to make it up to me”
“I have a few ideas for that, Miss Maximoff” you smile, pulling her against you and kissing her temple. “And none of them include clothes”
“Good” she laughs, standing on her toes to kiss you.
—
You wanted to have a good day, you really did. Wanda needed some work done on her new study so you dropped off the kids and drove to the hardware store, trusting Pietro could be fine on his own for a while.
What really ruined the mood happened on the way back home.
While turning on a busy street, your mother calls and instead of pressing the ignore button, you answer.
“Fuck” you mutter and it’s too late to hang up. “Hey, mom”
Wanda perks up at that, curious about your mother. She has never even heard her voice, let alone watch you have a conversation on the phone with her. She can tell your posture stiffens.
“Hello, Y/N. I missed your call for the holidays”
“Had lots of work” you lie.
“Oh, well. Hope you liked your birthday present” the woman says in a kinder tone and you almost want to laugh.
“Yeah, thanks. Really appreciate it”
“So, I don’t have a lot of time, wanted to let you know we’re flying there next week but we’re just gonna stay for three days. I don’t think we’ll have the time to meet you. Plus, it’s just us family, you know”
“Right” you try to sound disappointed, but are actually tempted to stop the car and dance around the street. “Some other time”
“Just make sure you’re available in case we need anything. It’s the least you can do”
“Of course” you agree, looking out of the corner of your eye at the confused expression on Wanda’s face. “Have fun, say hi to everyone for me”
“Ok, you take care now”
The minute she hangs up, you let out a huge sigh of relief.
“What was that?” Wanda says, frowning.
“Which part, love?”
“Everything! Ok, first of all, the birthday present. What did she get you? I didn’t see anything delivered”
“Wanda, she doesn’t even know where I live. What happened was, someone walked by and she pretended to be nice. She’s always done it” you explain, feeling irritated. All you want is to be happy that you won’t see her, but Wanda is pushing the subject.
“And what about them coming? And not making the time to see you? Just us family? You’re her daughter!”
“Wanda, please, drop it” you plead, parking outside your home and stepping out of the car.
“Why is she like this? Why don’t you call her out on it? And I’m sorry, I just can’t understand someone being so horrible to their own child”
“Wanda!” you snap, slapping the trunk of the car. “I know, she’s horrible. I don’t care if she lies about getting me a birthday present and I don’t care enough about her to call her out for being mommy dearest. I am just so damn happy that I don’t have to be around her anymore, can we please focus on that?”
“I am just trying to understand. You never tell me anything about her” Wanda protests and you can’t believe she’s still talking about this.
“Everything there is to know, you already know, Wanda. What else would you like to learn? That sometimes I went to bed without having dinner because she thought I was getting fat? Or that when I got a summer job and was out too late she only let me sleep on the porch? What other fucking twisted things would you like to learn about that awful woman?”
“I…”
“If I say it’s complicated or I don’t want to talk about it, maybe just listen once. Here” you toss the car keys her way, not caring if she catches them or not. “I’m going for a walk”
You’d do more than walk if you were wearing different shoes and it wasn’t so damn cold. Still, you don’t make it very far, running into a black and white bunny in the middle of the street. None of your neighbors have pet rabbits, not that you can recall.
“Where did you come from?” you say, hugging the little thing and feeling relaxed as it moves its nose and settles in your arms.
“Señor Scratchy!” Agatha yells from her porch, and you turn around.
“I take it he’s yours?”
“Yes, Rio gave him to me. Señor Scratchy, what are you doing outside?” the woman says with a soft voice, taking him back. “I don’t know how he got out”
“Maybe your fence? Let’s take a look” you walk around to her backyard, pointing at an old part of her wooden fence. “Aha!”
“Oh, great. It will take forever to find someone to fix it” she grumbles. “He’ll have to stay inside for the time being”
“I can fix it. It will only take an hour or so” you say, eager to stay out of the house for a bit longer.
“Well, aren’t you a sweetheart?” Agatha squeezes your cheek and then slaps it gently. “Just remember, I’m already taken, hot stuff”
“I’m just fixing your fence, Miss Harkness” you wink. “I’ll be back with the stuff we need”
Wanda seems to be in her study when you go back home. The fact that you feel relieved instead of sad for making her hide does make you a little guilty.
Truth is, you’ve never lived with anyone you had a relationship with, and neither did she. Maybe you’re both expecting things to be perfect, and it’s just not realistic. Disagreements are bound to happen when you share a home.
Right?
As you work on Agatha’s fence, you keep thinking about a way to make things work for everyone, because you’ve had a couple of fights with Wanda in the span of two days and you really don’t want to make it a habit.
“Did that fence do something to you?” Agatha interrupts you, handing over a glass of water.
“Huh?” you look up at her, taking it and nodding your thanks.
“You're nailing that wood a little too hard, hot stuff” she says, dragging a garden chair and sitting next to you. “Spill”
Saying it’s nothing won’t stop her from asking, so you keep working and tell her everything that has been going on. How the house feels too crowded sometimes, and work is kicking your ass. It takes a minute, but you admit that Wanda really upset you, questioning why you didn’t stand up to your mother.
“I don’t know, I guess it’s something I’ve always wondered myself. Why didn’t I say something instead of being weak. It struck a nerve when Wanda said it out loud”
“Did she call you weak?” Agatha says, frowning.
“No, that’s me being dramatic” you chuckle.
“Look, it’s what I told you the other day. Not everyone understands it, because most people have a semi functional relationship with their parents. And from the sound of it, Wanda’s were straight out of a sitcom”
“I guess”
“She doesn’t have to understand it. She just has to respect your boundaries” Agatha says and you nod, still thinking about everything. “Have you ever thought about going no contact with your mother?”
“Is that what you did?”
“Oh, honey, my mother’s dead. So unless I pull out a Ouija board, we’re no contact already” she cackles, which makes you laugh.
“I don’t know. If she needs something, I guess I would try to help her. If she was a bad mother, that’s on her. But I won’t be a bad daughter”
“You’re too good” Agatha pats your back, and you smile at her.
“Alright, well, your fence is fixed. Can we call it even with the therapy session you just gave me?” you stand up, making sure everything’s in its place.
“Nu-uh, you owe me” Agatha jokes, taking the bunny out to the backyard. “You’ll be fine. Tú puedes”
“Duolingo?”
“Rio’s been teaching me Spanish. The other stuff I can’t say it to you because it’s dirty and for her ears only” the brunette winks, which makes you blush. “Bye, Y/N”
“Bye, Agatha” you roll your eyes at her antics, feeling better as you walk back home.
You figure it’s better to start working on what Wanda needs, so you carry the stuff upstairs and knock before entering the guest room turned into a study.
“Hey” you say, as Wanda looks out the window instead of working.
“Hi”
“I’ll fix the lights and then adjust your desk, or do you need to work now?” you ask, unsure if she’s also upset at you.
“No, that’s fine. It’s not even important, you should rest, work has been crazy for you” she finally turns, and you can tell she’s trying hard not to cry.
“Hey… come here” you step closer, pulling her into a hug. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m really sorry for pushing the subject. I can’t imagine someone being so awful to you, and I made you… I should have kept it to myself”
“It’s… yeah. It wasn’t nice and I really don’t like to look back at everything that happened. But I know you didn’t mean any harm, ok? I love you, baby” you kiss her temple, feeling her relax in your arms. “Why don’t you go check on your brother? He’s been too quiet, which can only mean he’s getting into some sort of trouble”
“Or buying more stuff from Amazon. We barely fit here” Wanda grumbles and you laugh, kissing her. “I’m sorry”
“I know. You’ll make it up to me in bed” you joke, which makes her laugh.
“Maybe now that he’s busy…”
In that precise moment, her brother decides to call for Wanda.
“Go” you kiss Wanda again, wishing you had more time just with her.
—
Natasha’s not excited about the day ahead, the only silver lining being that she gets to see you. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course. She’s flirting and constantly eyeing you, but nothing’s gonna happen.
Not on a lack of desire on her part. It’s pretty obvious you’re not the type of person who cheats. Pretty ironic, she finally meets a decent woman and you’re already taken.
What does that girlfriend of yours have that she doesn’t? Aside from two kids that adore you. Is the whole housewife thing really that appealing to someone like you?
As she enters the room for the next lesson, Natasha notices you’re sitting a few rows behind. That’s a little disappointing. Still, your eyes follow her every move and she feels a little surge of pride at that.
If only you were single, Natasha might get you to roleplay that teacher-student fantasy she’s had.
Still, as she finishes her explanation, you walk up to her, smiling.
“That was brilliant, Natasha” a brunette doctor walks behind you, and you reach out to stop her. “Hey, come meet Doctor Romanoff, Darcy”
“Pleased to meet you. We’re loving the lessons” she says, not wanting to make small talk. “Y/N, come on. I’m starving”
“Oh, I was thinking we could go out for a bite if you’d like?” you turn to Natasha, smiling.
“I’ve got surgery in half an hour” Darcy says, glaring at you.
“Nat?” you turn to the woman, smiling. “Bishop can take care of the ER for me”
“Yeah, I’d love to” Natasha says, kicking herself over how fast she agrees to doing anything you ask.
“Awesome, I know this great place” you begin saying, but she gets a phone call. Natasha looks at you apologetically, but you smile, while Darcy is pulling at your sleeve and giving her a strange look.
“I’ll only take a moment” Natasha promises.
“Yeah, that’s fine”
“A word, Y/N?” Darcy finally gets your attention back and you frown.
Natasha doesn’t care much about the new doctor, unless she’s also fighting for your attention. She finds an empty room to take the call, shutting the door behind her.
“What is it, mother?”
“How’s the second lesson?”
“Fine. Do you keep a timer on your desk?”
“I just like to know if the study plan I designed is working, Natalia. That way, when we move to the next one, it can be more efficient until we manage a global, scalable solution”
“We? I’m only doing this here and then I’m going back to my research, you agreed” Natasha reminds her, blood boiling.
“This is your legacy too”
“Then how come I wasn’t up there getting the Nobel with you?”
“Natalia, those are insignificant things compared to what we can acheive” Melina scoffs.
“I’m not going to spend another month in a different hospital just because you’re too paranoid about someone stealing your research”
“Fine, then get me a new Head of Trauma for Boston and we’ll consider it even” Melina says. “You know Yelena wants to focus on that, she needs someone who can teach her”
“There are tons of applicants. Choose one from the pile in your desk, Mother” Natasha sighs, knowing where this is going.
“What about that doctor you told me about? You sounded so enamoured last time”
“She wouldn’t move to another city, her girlfriend’s here” Natasha says.
“Girlfriends aren’t wives. Well, even spouses can get divorced. Maybe she just needs to hear the right offer” Melina insists.
“Mother…”
“You’re not resuming your research until you find a new Head of Trauma. That’s final, Natalia” the woman loses her cool, hanging up on her daughter.
Natasha feels so stupid, of course this would happen. Melina never cared about anything other than herself and her accomplishments.
“Fuck” the woman says, kicking one of the chairs. You walk inside that precise moment, jumping at the outburst.
“You ok?” you say, locking the door.
“Yeah. It’s nothing”
You let out a sigh, sitting next to her in the bed of the on call room.
“We can skip lunch if you’re not hungry”
“It’s not that. I mean, I’m not hungry anymore, my mother just pissed me off” Natasha shakes her head, trying to calm her racing heart.
“You got one of those too, huh?” you chuckle. “I’m sorry, Nat, honestly. It’s the worse feeling in the world. Someone who should support you trying to bring you down, and then no one believing you because there’s this collective denial that mothers can be bad people”
“Yeah, that’s exactly it. To everyone else she’s a genius. To me, she’s the woman who’s always reminding me how ordinary I am compared to her” Natasha fiddles with her hands, not used to being vulnerable. Not with someone who understands her so well.
“You’re not ordinary, Natasha” you say with so much conviction that the redhead looks up, eyes meeting yours. “And if your mother thinks that, I’m sorry to say that she’s not as smart as I thought”
Natasha laughs, blushing a little at the compliment. You nudge her with your elbow, standing up.
“Want some coffee instead? If you’re not hungry anymore” you place your hand in the doorknob, checking if she’s ready to step out.
“Yeah, sure”
As you nod and open the door, Natasha stands up, reaching for your wrist.
“I… thank you. You’re too kind to me” she says in a low voice.
“I guess I know how isolating it can be. If you ever want to talk, I’m here” you squeeze her arm in return, smiling at her.
Natasha is about to say something else, something probably really stupid, when a voice calls behind you.
“Detka, there you are”
“Wanda? Hi, what are you doing here?” you step out of the room now, looking at your girlfriend. Wanda, however, is focused on the very attractive redhead that follows behind you, noticing you were alone seconds ago
“Am I interrupting something?” she says, eyes not leaving Natasha’s figure.
“What? No, this is Nat… eh, doctor Romanoff. She’s the doctor from Boston who is giving us the course” you explain, looking between both women. Natasha is the first one to give up the staring contest, extending her hand to Wanda.
“Nice to meet you. Y/N has told me so much about you and your boys”
“I’m happy to hear that”
Happy that you know she’s taken.
“So, uh… what are you doing here?” you ask, still thrown off by Wanda’s presence. Ever since Pietro was discharged, she has never been back to the hospital. If you recall correctly, she said she had enough of hospitals for a lifetime.
“I need to talk to you for a second. Alone”
“I’ll meet you in a second” you smile as Natasha walks back to the conference room and she nods. When you turn to Wanda she has a strange look in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“You never told me she was this pretty”
“Who?”
“Natasha”
“I didn’t notice” you mumble, scratching your neck. “And anyways, that’s not why you’re here, is it?”
“Right. I just… I wanted to apologize again for yesterday. And make sure we’re ok. I know these past few weeks have been hard. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had to come over and see you”
“Hey, we’re ok” you promise, pulling her by the waist. “I love you, you love me and we have a pretty nice family, don’t we? Even with stinky Pietro”
“I’m trying to convince him to shower daily” she laughs against your lips. It’s pretty clear that he was clean during his hospital days because he got sponge baths.
“It’s either that or hosing him down in the backyard”
“I’d like to see that” your girlfriend laughs and you take her hand, bringing it to your lips. “I’ll let you get back to work”
“Ok, if I can I’ll leave early” you kiss her cheek, squeezing her waist until you’re hand goes dangerously lower. “And maybe we can have some makeup sex”
“Mmhm you’d like that wouldn’t you” Wanda slaps your shoulder. “Go”
But as you wave goodbye and walk up to meet Natasha, Wanda doesn’t miss the look on the redhead's eyes.
She knows it, because it’s the same way Wanda looks at you. And that’s all it takes for her to decide, she doesn’t like the other woman.
—
It’s not as late as you thought, because when you get home everyone’s finishing dinner.
“She lives” Pietro says when you walk in.
“He bathes” you say, noticing his wet hair. “Did Wanda tell you I was going to hose you down?”
He doesn’t get to reply, because the kids jump in your arms.
“My stinky minions! Did you win the game today?”
“No, you have to come to the next one. You’re our lucky charm” Billy says.
“Pinky promise, I will come to the next one” you nod, moving to kiss Wanda. “Hey, gorgeous”
“Moya lyubov” she says and you smile, always loving that accent. “Come have dinner while the kids shower”
“Can you read us a story when you finish?” Tommy asks.
“Of course. Now go with Mom, I’ll be there as soon as I’m done”
The kids cheer as you get a plate and serve some delicious lasagna. Now you really don’t regret coming home early.
“Alright, I’m calling it a night. I’m exhausted” Pietro says.
“From showering?” you joke, but he fake laughs as he pushes his wheelchair away. “Leave your plate, I’ll clean it up”
“Thanks, sestra”
As you eat, you remember to send a text to Natasha, asking if she wants to have lunch with you tomorrow before she heads back to Boston for the rest of the week.
The kids are ready for bed and you walk upstairs, sitting between their beds and reading Dragon Feathers, which was your father’s favorite bedtime story to tell. Billy and Tommy laugh as you make different voices, the way your dad did when he told you the tale.
As soon as you’re done, they settle in bed, and Wanda’s the one who tucks them in, joining you at the door.
“I missed this” you say against her temple.
“I missed you” she agrees, leaning against your side. “Come to my study, I want to show you the drawings I made for the book”
The new working space was starting to grow on Wanda. Even if it was smaller, she had enough room to fit everything she needed, and her view was much better from the second floor.
You admire the sketches she hands you, looking at every detail and stroke of her pencil.
“Could I see you work one day? I don’t think I’ve ever done that, baby” you say, in awe of her talent.
“I don’t know, I might get too nervous”
“Please?” you pout, hoping that will change her mind. Wanda rolls her eyes and leans forward, standing on the tip of her toes to kiss you. Her movements turn more frantic and she catches you off guard when she pushes you against the small sofa, straddling your lap.
“Tell me more about her”
“About who?” you say, completely lost in the way her shirt strains against her breasts.
“That new doctor”
“Natasha?” you blink, trying to form a coherent thought. “Why?”
“Because. You’re working a lot, and apparently it’s next to a very beautiful woman whose name I hadn’t heard up until I saw you walking out of a room together”
“We were just talking” you mumble, more focused on undoing the buttons on Wanda’s shirt. She takes your wrists and pulls them away, forcing you to look up.
“I hope she knows your girlfriend is incredibly possesive and jealous” she whispers against your lips. “Or I might have to remind you who you belong to”
“I haven’t forgotten” you promise, looking at her lips intently.
“Then show me” Wanda says, her nails digging in your scalp. Whatever you were about to say dies in your lips as she kisses you, biting your lip and making you forget your name. You open your mouth, allowing her to explore it with her tongue and you carry her to the desk, pushing away everything so she can sit on it.
Wasting no time, Wanda holds her hips up so you can pull down her pants and underwear, and you kneel, moaning against her center when you begin to eat her out, desperate for her taste.
It feels like forever since you’ve had the chance to worship her body.
“That’s it” she moans as you bite the inside of her thigh, pleased with the way her legs close around your head. “I’m gonna…”
“Hold it”
“No, please”
“Did I fucking stutter? God, you are so impatient” you say, squeezing her throat as you move up, sliding two fingers inside her wet cunt. “Why can’t you just let me fuck you?”
“Oh, God” she says, getting wetter at your words.
“I think you’re the one who’s forgetting her place, baby” you say, hitting her G spot over and over until she can’t speak.
“Fuck” Wanda sighs, biting your neck as she finally gets her release. You kiss her, muffling her moans until her breathing evens out. “I missed that”
“Mhm” you smile, letting Wanda taste herself in your lips. “Come on. Let’s go to bed”
As you get changed and clean up, your phone pings several times.
“Work?” Wanda asks, but you’re smiling as you type.
“Huh? No, not work” is all you say, getting in bed and kissing Wanda. “Night, baby”
“Goodnight” she says, watching the screen of your phone light up again. You don’t notice because you’re already asleep, exhausted.
Wanda has to resist the urge to look at the text you just got.
You’ve never given her a reason to doubt you.
And yet, as she goes to bed, looking at your sleeping shape, Wanda can’t help but feel, there’s a part of you that’s not being honest.
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Good GOD I missed reading, I've been in a slump for so long (work stuff, family stuff, personal stuff), and this smutshot just yoink'd me right out of that slump and has me chomping at the bit for more.
The way I was not expecting an absolute cinnamon roll of a Loki with this smuttery
There's just so many lines here that have him being vocal about how much he was probably already all the way in love with Reader, and despite that he didn't push to court her and left the choice entirely up to her?? And the way he made her aware that he was awake like he was probably posing like that all fucking week and leaving his door unlocked probably whispering to himself "Please let tonight be the night", like this story painted that picture so clearly.
And it's the way that even with him being so open about how he's down bad for her, it still feels like he was holding back at some parts to actually say the words, but you can tell that even while Reader's going "Nothing's going to ever be the same after this", it's like he's outwardly agreeing that yes, everything's going to change for her, but inside he's probably chomping at the bit to tell her that everything changed for him the second he decided "Yes, this one, I want her, I love her" 🥹
Now moving on to the smut that factory reset me back to my whoring ways, the absolute meatiness of the actual smuttery and the way you were describing the movements and the sluttish sounds just got me completely gagged.
The creases of your mouth cracked slowly as you slid him further inside. And it suddenly dawned on you, how large he truly was.
This already got me sipping on my ice water
Nothing was supposed to feel this good.
Babes u got some mango of godly caliber, he's about to fundamentally rewrite your definition of "good". 🥵🫢
But the ending. The ending. That just got me doing twirls and jumps all over my room, and suddenly my downstairs neighbor hates me all over again
“You,” he whispered, knuckles trailing lovingly down the curve of your damp neck, “however long it took. You were always worth the wait.”
He's just too precious, your honor. I want one 😩
Come After Dark [Loki x Fem.Reader]
A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: You swallow your nerves and take Loki up on his seductive invitation. (w/c 3.1k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Mild somnophillia. Language. Mild angst to fluff. Sub(ish) Loki.
The hair on your arms felt like needles, every ghostlike pricking shiver vibrating invisible strands. Was it cold tonight? You couldn’t tell. Heat thumping low in your belly blossomed as you made your way through the midnight gloom of the tower. Shadows danced the walls, stretching and fading in haunting rhythm. Come after dark, he’d said.
You shivered again, recalling the way his breath had caressed your jaw, a palm spread on his chest against porcelain shirt buttons. His questioning stare had moved from your hand to your eyes, his brows a line of reluctant, smouldering resignation. He had left you in that hallway, music beating a solid bass through the wall against your spine. The words that had circled in your mind ever since fluttered back around the endless loop.
I will cease my wooing of you, since that is what you wish, he had murmured, as he unfurled your fingers from his chest. Loki then raised your knuckles to his lips. Parted, only slightly. But if you decide you want this, whenever you want this, he’d whispered against the skin. Come after dark.
That had been days ago. A week? Time had slowed and sped up in frightening synchronicity since that brief conversation. You and he had been dancing around your flirtations for months, but in each moment when he swooped gently to kiss you, to let his hands wander to your own, to break the seal of workplace propriety – you bailed.
His absence made everything come in bright clarity. In deepest reds and brightest blues you saw for the first time how much more he was than a distraction, than something to be feared in awe from a distance. Like a predator behind glass. Fear. What was it you were afraid of? Of how much you want him. Of how how has the power to elevate or decimate in the palm of his-
You shook the thought away, seeing the potted plant that signalled the end of the corridor come into view. One more turn.
Silent breaths rose and fell as his door suddenly loomed. It stretched up into nothingness, its out of place mahogany intricacies making you smile in the eerie darkness. Lifting a fist to knock, you paused. A feeling rose that was difficult to place. The ornate brass knob was cool to the touch, but even from one small twist it was easy to tell it was - Come after dark, -unlocked.
You held your breath, twisting on the exhale. There was a soft click as the mechanism relented, a cool brush of air wafting against heated cheeks. The goosebumps on your forearms bristled.
A feeling of dread suddenly descended, sinking through the excited trepidation. What if he didn’t mean it? What if, I’m just breaking into his room-
You recalled the gleam of his darkened eyes, the blue of his irises barely visible at the rims of wide pupils. The hum of his voice as he enunciated each word with painfully laden precision, as thick as double cream; Come after dark,
You stepped inside, closing the door behind you. As your eyes adjusted to a deeper darkness, the room’s layout came into view. A short corridor which was the mark of all your accommodations led into a living area. You could see the elegant curves of an ostentatious sofa, the rise of a fireplace and the shadowy reflection of a mirror glinting above. Floor length curtains swept around the corner windows. Of course Loki has the corner apartment, you mulled, noticing dinner-plate sized vegetation poked around the corner from some kind of plant. Your fingers reaching to absent-mindedly rub the waxy leaves as you padded over luxurious carpet. White carpet. Your bare feet sank into the pile, each cushioned step landing on the heel making your breaths quicken as you worked closer to the bedroom. The door was open, just a crack. After this, there was no turning back. You would never be the same. You could tell. Good, you thought; feeling your heart thunder. Like an astral projection, you felt your fingers slide around the edge of the door, peeking inside. A wave of adrenaline soared up your body like a tide; animalistic energy bursting new heat from every pore. There he was.
Spread like a sculpture; a living Bernini glowing in soft cracks of moonlight glistening on his skin. One long thigh rested open atop twisted sheets, an arm outstretched on the empty side of the bed reaching for an invisible lover. The curves of his muscles rose and fell along each line of his body, white sheets painted teasingly across the sharp dents of his hips. His obliques clenched with each soft breath, perfect face turned towards the shards of moonbeam bathing him in ethereal light. Dark curls lay spread against the pillow, like splatters of oil on canvas, winding across the cotton and the broad flat of his pale shoulders. Your mouth felt dry, and your eyes. You realised you hadn’t blinked in about thirty seconds. He looked so peaceful, it would be a shame to- Oh-
Your eyes fell on his crotch as he sifted within dreams, something long and thick nudging horizontal upwards against the sheets.
Your breath hitched as a well of saliva rose in your mouth, moistening your lips. You would be lying if you hadn’t imagined him thrusting his fist against that huge cock in these very rooms while he moaned your name, fuelling your forbidden fantasies. On the edge of this very bed, by all accounts. He was always a gentleman in your presence, something you had wished many times he would abandon to urge you to take the leap.
But after all, here you were. Here I am. His brow furrowed, a light moan snaking from his slumbering throat. Beneath your pyjama shorts, the slick of arousal that had been growing since you had left your own apartment warmed. Slipping.
You squeezed around the door, tentatively making your way to the empty side of the bed. Now what, you thought, letting your eyes roam over his sprawled form as you resisted the urge to jump on him...do I wake him, should I- “-Loki?” you whispered, voice shaking. Your fingertips traced the thick cotton rumpled at the bed’s edge. His breaths continued to slowly rise and fall, the erotically devastating fan of dark lashes against his skin, undisturbed. “Loki?” you repeated, resting on the side of the mattress, “Mmm...” he mumbled groggily, frowning in his slumber. He sighed, outstretched fingers twitching. You smiled, watching the strong veins in his forearms tense before relaxing into smooth surrender.
Following the delicate lines of the summer duvet draped lazily across his torso, you let your eyes track down the folds. It ran diagonal, exposing the taut carving of violent muscle rippling down his chest, his stomach. The duvet rested teasingly over his hips, an exposed leg hanging open sluttishly as the other stretched down to the end of the ornate bed-frame. “Lo-kii…” you cooed seductively, shuffling closer.
You waited. He didn’t stir. You frowned.
Beneath the duvet, the god’s swollen cock twitched against the cotton.
Your eyes ran up the lines of muscle contoured in the moonlight, up the shadow of his cheekbones to his peaceful brow. A thin line formed between his eyebrows, softening. Without realising it, your outstretched fingers ghosted down the centre of his abdomen, cool skin making heated tips tingle. You edged closer on your knees, making the firm mattress bounce slightly. But still, he did not stir. Nerves burst in stars deep in your belly, the gravity of your audacity making you dizzy as you fought to hold your nerve.
Cautiously, you lowered to his flat stomach, placing a kiss just above his naval. A shaking gasp escaped your nostrils, the electric eroticism of his energy humming from every inch of his skin as you moved lower. Fine hair coating down from his naval grazed your chin, its feathery softness a stark reminder of the warm heart beating beneath his stoic exterior. You paused on the dip of his adonis belt, frozen hunched in place as he stirred. The pillows rustled, followed by a soft thump as his cheek fell to the other side.
“Don’t s-stop…” he softly slurred, hips nudging upwards beneath the sheet. Outstretched fingers gripped the sheet to your side in a loose fist, the fingernails catching on cotton before relaxing.
Oh, god.
Your trembling digits wrapped around the blanket’s tip, pulling down. And all the time, your eyes never left his moon-drunk face. Tentatively you ran your fingernails lightly over the taut skin of his ribs. Shivers rose in the muscle beneath your careful touch as the sheet was brushed aside below. You let the heel of your palm search in half-darkness for the root of his subconscious desire.
It didn’t need to search far. Loki moaned softly, his lips parting with a puff of air. A rogue strand of hair buffeted from his face as you clenched around nothing, the wetness between your legs wild and unstoppable, his gentle whoreish sounds making your inner-beast writhe. The god’s breaths were a roar in the suffocating silence. “Please,” he breathed in dreams. It floated, lingering like perfume. Or maybe it was your imagination. Reluctantly, your palm left the velvet skin of his cock and planted on the farthest side of his body. You loomed over him. He’s like my prey, thought reverently; holding back a giggle. Like a virgin and a vampire, about to be sucked dr-
The smile faded, replaced by something stronger than the fear of him waking and recoiling in disgust. That this had all been a misunderstanding. That his sultry flirtations and invitations and unlocked door were just coincidences. Nothing more. Tilting your head, you bit your bottom lip and watched as his light frown returned. He squirmed in slumber, ropes of shoulder muscle shifting against the pillows. You allowed yourself to finish the thought, -Sucked dry.
Taking a deep breath, you dipped down and covered the head of his majestic cock carefully with your mouth. It was warm, the round tip resting on your tongue, the jolt of his thigh splayed to the side not going unnoticed as you let your slick lips slide against him. He’s been hard for a while, you pondered, savouring the settling of his sex inside your mouth. Where he belongs. A thick vein pulsed against your tongue. Your mind crackled with energy, every nerve screaming to shake him awake and fuck him into the headboard between messy kisses and half-formed words. “Mmmm...ye-shs, p-please -m-more…” Loki exhaled groggily. You wondered if he was dreaming of you. Muffled, his lashes fluttered with pleasure beneath shuttered lids. The thump of your heart was deafening as you focused on the taste of him filling your mouth. The sweetness of his velvet skin stretched over unforgiving muscle, fresh and deep like autumn pine. Plump veins slid further down the flat of your tongue as you grew braver, each ridge that bumped against the muscle lovingly caressed. The creases of your mouth cracked slowly as you slid him further inside. And it suddenly dawned on you, how large he truly was. The scent of his shaft filled your nostrils as you lapped softly at the tip, enjoying each stolen moment of second-hand pleasure. Your pussy throbbed, blood pumping and heating the mess between your legs. Loki whined softly, hips beginning to roll in dream-soaked waves. You wrapped your fingers one by one around the thickness of him, brow furrowing as you felt the weight of his cock twitch in your grip. Slowly, you drew your tongue over the sensitive frenulum, feeling his hips shudder as you licked to the leaking tip.
“You came…” a gravelled voice shifted in the darkness, making you jump. Your head snapped towards him, fearful eyes wide. A mischievous smile tugged at his beautiful lips, shadows cast by the moonlight carving deep grooves beneath his cheekbones. “Quite the one for drama after all, aren’t we, little fox?” The words were mumbled coyly, raising an eyebrow as you sat upright. Loki’s voice was husky with something, but it wasn’t sleep. He propped himself up on one elbow, using his free hand to dramatically whip the remaining duvet from his body and letting it sprawl to the floor.
“I thought you might enjoy the illusion of voyeurism,” he smiled, rubbing a flat palm on the mattress beside him. “As usual, it seems, I was correct.” “You were awake?” you scoffed, admitting to yourself that the desired effect was likely lost by the wandering of your hungry eyes over his unbearably naked form. With sudden clarity, you realised his hard manhood was still wrapped in the punishing grip of your fingers. “Mmmm,” he hummed, smile wider now with the mocking echo of his slumbering moans. His stare dropped in stages down your body, across every line of your form kneeling on his bed in the moonslick gloom. If he was searching for resistance, he would find none. “I’m sorry if I-”
Before the final words could form on your tongue, Loki was kneeling in front of you. His hips pressed flush to your stomach, those long fingers that had brushed your own so many times beneath the conference table digging into the small of your back. They sank lower, cupping your ass with a ragged groan from his throat. “Enough,” he growled. But it wasn’t a threat. It was a plea. Loki buried his face in your neck, kissing ravenously up the curve towards the angle of your jaw as your nails dragged down his chiselled abdomen. The god’s breath was hot, decadent.
Both of you raised on your knees, a tangled primal mess of hair and fingers and teeth and tongue as the past burned. Whispers of desire fluttered in the sliver of air between you as Loki’s hands spread against your ass-cheeks, down the backs your thighs. He rested back on the bed, letting you fall over him in a flood of pure need, straddling him immediately. “I’m going to fuck you into this headboard, Laufeyson” you heard yourself mutter as you stooped to place wet kisses on his collarbone. Loki chuckled. “Oh I do hope so,” he rumbled under his breath. “I’ve thought about it enough.”
His eyes tracked over your loose pyjama top like a hunter, running his hands up the curve of your waist until your vision blurred. With a soft pop, you were free. Loki groaned. The flat of his cock lay nestled between your legs, pressed tight against your wet cunt. Pleasure fired with every frustrated rock of his hips, seeking salvation. His palms cupped your breasts, burying his face forwards as your wound your fingers in his hair. “Fuck me,” he gasped desperately against your chest. The skin was moist with moans and sucks and kisses as he pushed your breasts together, his proud features absorbing all you had to give. “Fuck me, please.”
You held your breath as you rose up, hand feeling between his legs and lining him up. The tip of his manhood brushed against your aching heat, a premature moan of anticipation filling the air from you both. “There’s no going back after this,” you said; voice trembling over shaky breaths. The god’s eyes rose from the sight of his cock hovering at your entrance, the same determined look of intent curtaining his features as had in the hallway. “You shall not want to go back, darling,” he murmured, a familiar smirk curling his lip in the gloom. A dimple flashed. “Believe me.”
The words made you clench just as you sank onto his cock, his sheer size making you choke on air as a strangled gasp erupted. Loki’s hands guided your hips, rocking you gently down his length. His eye twitched, brows slanted as his chin tilted to the ceiling. But still, he kept his gaze on you. “Loki-” you whined, feeling each ridge and vein of his shaft press and drag against your little cunt. Nothing was supposed to feel this good.
Loki let out a ragged exhale he’d been holding, whole body shuddering as he filled you to the hilt. Careful fingers rested on your hips, pulling you gently back and forth. You could feel your walls begin to stretch, the sopping stickiness of arousal coating his cock with each gyration. “Good?” he grunted, concern lacing his voice. You nodded mutely, strands of hair sticking to your parted lips as you moaned obscenities above him. How fucked-out you must look, and you’d barely started. One of your hands gripped his headboard, the other steadying on his chest as Loki let you take him. All of him.
With every roll of your hips, your clit pressed against his pelvis; sparks of pleasure setting your belly alight with new desires. Every soft sigh of your name, good girl, that’s it, pushed you higher; confidence building. You started to bounce, thighs tensing with every slam to the root of his shaft. The desire to close your eyes and let yourself drown in ecstasy was overwhelming, but the urge to watch the god you had craved writhe beneath you was stronger.
“G-gods, my sweet little f-fuck...f-ox…” Loki growled, giving into himself and making you fly into the air with a targeted thrust. He caught your waist, sinking you down with merciless precision, “you’re even more d-deadly than I expected.” The headboard slapped against the wall, each ca-lunk of wood on plaster making you tighten. Fingernails sank into the leather covering as the beat grew louder with every synchronised groan from your throats, of every squelching slap of your bodies moving as one. You didn’t stop to wonder who was on the other side. You didn’t care. Loki grit his teeth, the veins in his neck straining as his hair mussed against the pillow. He slipped a hand behind your head as you leant towards him, sucking the pleasure point of his neck with moans so dirty you surprised yourself. “My patient god,” you grunted wetly against his skin, tightening your cunt around his throbbing sex, “I want your cum covering every inch of me when tonight is over.” The noises he was making were filth. Every curse and uhhhhh and sluttish moan driving you feral as you shook the walls with all your might. Loki was nearing his limit. Men and gods, you surmised, were not so different in some respects.
His eyes rolled back, a hiss filling the hair as his jaw set in smouldering intent. You smiled, placing both hands firmly over the leather seal of his headboard. The flutter of his thumb against your swollen clit was all it took to push you over the edge, tumbling with a strangled cry of his name into an abyss of pleasure. Moonlight shattered around his tense body, cutting in shards where each bladed muscle of his godly formed tightened and bulged beneath the grip of your thighs.
Syllables of your name exploded one after another as he let himself come undone, arching up to catch your open mouth in a filthy kiss. The pressure of his cum swelled inside your slit, leaking against his shuddering thrusts as his whole body trembled. Your cries intertwined the air like wafts of smoke, rising and ebbing before with a final broken sigh, you collapsed on top of him. Your fingertips followed at a snails pace, scratching down the skin of the leather headboard. Seconds passed, before Loki’s nose nestled beside your ear. “Worth the wait,” he murmured against your hair. “Mmm-hmmm,” you confirmed groggily, deep in the pillow. Words were too much. “It wasn’t a question,” he said quietly, before pressing a kiss to your temple. You managed to raise your head, seeing the crescent fan of his lashes rise to reveal eyes sparkling with something new. “You,” he whispered, knuckles trailing lovingly down the curve of your damp neck, “however long it took. You were always worth the wait.”
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Love is heartbreak
↪ a the age of adaline inspired fic
pairing: marcus acacius x ageless!f!reader. summary: kissed by the goddess juno on your day of reckoning, you are brought back to life, condemned to wander the earth for a century. until you meet the other half of your soul who offers you the life you yearn for. but will you be strong enough to accept such promise? author's note: yes, i've cheated on my other wips, I'M SORRY. but when the angst and romance call, i can only answer - i am only human afterall. hope you like this little story that was supposed to be a drabble but ended up being this long, oops! comments and reblogs appreciated. enjoy! x warnings: 18+, mdni. soulmates trope. angst, romance, smut. mild breeding kink (soz). infidelity. mention of SA (not by Marcus) and death. dual pov. reader is female and a blank slate. reader is close to 150 years old (stopped ageing in her twenties) and Marcus is in his fifties. not beta'd and very lightly proofread, apologies if you spot any mistakes lol wordcount: ~8.4k. divider by @\saradika-graphics
“I’ll do anything to stay by your side, amica mea (my beloved). I don’t care about what the future holds if it’s not with you,” Marcus’ broad hands held yours, his thumb drawing invisible circles on the back of your hands.
You hated this — how your heart twisted inside you, torn apart by the choice you had to make. Was this never-ending life not enough punishment? No, you also had to go through heartbreak — your own and Marcus’. For love, you had to.
With eyes averted, you looked down at your worn sandals. Tears teetering on the edge of your waterlines as your vision became blurry with sadness, regrets and fears washed over you like the Tiber kissing the shore goodbye.
In your hundred years wandering the ground beneath your feet, you never had to go through this. Always so careful not to feel, not to grow close to anyone, not to really live the life you wanted, and now you were in a position where it almost felt too real.
Within reach — you only had to extend your hands and hug him in a tight, soothing embrace. Only needed to accept the life that Marcus was offering. Though as much as you wanted to—you wanted it, him, so badly—you could never.
And what was worst, you couldn’t explain why. First you would see the horror in his eyes, that frightened look glittering, then incomprehension, and finally disgust. Your heart couldn’t take it.
“But I do care, Marcus. Yours is bright, your military career is about to take off. I would only hinder you, your dreams. I am no one, and—” you tried to reason with him.
But love was blind. Love was deaf. Love didn’t care about impossibilities, because love was defiant.
At least his was.
“Do you think I care about being disowned? Do you truly believe that I would choose such dreadful life over you? Over a wonderful life with the person I love most?” Marcus squeezed your hands before one of his found your chin, tilting up your face to him. “Omnia vincit amor, et nos cedamus amori (love conquers all, let us too yield to love).”
You shook your head in denial, his words ringing in your ears like chants of war. Because Marcus waged war in all aspects of life, even in love — he’d conquered your heart so fully, you’d never asked him to return it. It would forever be his to cherish, to cry over, to destroy, to hate.
Because he would need to hate you to overcome the heartbreak you were about to cause.
“You don’t have a choice here. You are to marry the lady your family has arranged for; her family’s prestige will do you good. You’re just infatuated, Marcus, it isn’t true love,” you forced yourself to let a soft laugh out, wiping your tears as you took a step back. “At least, for me, it isn’t.”
Marcus’ expression folded and your heart with him. You hated yourself for saying such a vile lie, but a necessary one. The passage of time would not affect you, always stagnant in your early twenties after a fateful day when Juno decided to save your life from certain death. The Goddess of love and marriage was also one known for Her eternal youthfulness — one She would only share with those who had been wronged. And you had been so wronged in your mortal life.
And here you were, so close to committing the same mistake all over again. But you knew better this time — not because you didn’t trust Marcus, but because Fate was capricious. It didn’t matter if Juno was watching over you.
“You don’t mean that. I know you don’t. This is true love, lux mihi (my light), one that would live through eternity,” Marcus muttered breathlessly, reaching for you again, looking for that unbreakable connection you both strongly shared.
“Eternity? Don’t speak of things you don’t understand, Marcus,” you retorted, forcing your tone to sound mocking.
Another step back with an unmovable expression and you saw realisation dawning on him. Slowly like a river widening its meanders, steady like the constant flow of water. Relentless you were, steadfast in your resolution.
“Ave atque vale (hail and farewell), Acacius,” were your last words to him.
35 years later...
“Father, may I marry her?”
Marcus gazed down the dining table, eyeing his son with consideration. He knew what it felt like, how true love messed up your head to the point of madness. He had felt that way only once in his life, and it wasn’t for the woman sitting beside him.
As cruel as it sounded, Marcus never loved his wife, because his heart belonged to someone else — the now hazy memory of a woman who always lingered on the edges of his mind. A cruel reminder of how feeble and fleeting love was, how love turned into heartbreak with just a few words.
“At least, for me, it isn’t.”
That sentence alone had broken him, his ability to feel some sort of romantic connection died that very same day. At night it would haunt him, filling his dreams with nightmares. The same scene playing over and over in his mind, his heart cracking even more every time those words would hit him.
He’d waited for weeks, months. A year it took him to realise you truly were not coming back, that you meant it. He’d only been a plaything for you, a toy you discarded once things got too real. And at that point he surrendered to the pressure his family put on him. Marcus had followed through with the arranged marriage in the end, despite the agony and the empty hole in his chest.
And now his son was following in his footsteps. His heir looked so much like him, like a reflection of the past staring back at him. It pained him — he saw himself in Magnus, almost as if the roles had reversed and he was his own father thirty-five years ago. Pleading, asking to marry the love of his life even though his hand had already been promised in holy matrimony to another.
His wife, Prisca, waved one of her hands with disdain, the spoon clattering on the porcelain plate.
“Nonsense, Magnus,” she tutted at their son. “We’ve already been through this. You will marry Verina. You’d put us in a very compromised position with Gellius if you don’t.”
“But—”
“Quit your whining and man up, my son. Gellius is the Emperor’s best counsellor. It will bring our family great reputation,” Prisca reasoned, tone poisoned with greed. “And riches.”
“Father?” Magnus’ eyes shot to his, pleading him to intervene.
Marcus sensed Prisca stiffening besides him, gripping the arms of the chair like a vice. He didn’t look in her direction but knew how her orbs distilled venom. She would never understand what their son was talking about, but he did. Too damn right.
“I would like to meet her before giving you my blessing,” he spoke calmly, lacing his hands together on top of the wooden table.
Magnus’ eyes sparked up, a hopeful smile curling his mouth.
“Of course, of course! She’s waiting right outside,” and then his son hurried out of the room.
Prisca stood up, the screeching noise of the chair’s legs irritating Marcus.
“Like father, like son,” she muttered maliciously before disappearing too.
In this moment of silent respite, Marcus pinched the bridge of his hooked nose. The patience he had to muster was titanic. His life had been nothing but heartache and war, his son being the only reason he stood by his wife’s side in public. He’d tired of the pantomime, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.
He would meet the woman who had stolen Magnus’ heart, just to make sure there was no deception from her part. Marcus wouldn’t wish for his son to go through the same heartbreak as him. If everything was at it should, then he wouldn’t oppose.
“Father,” Magnus called, and Marcus removed the hand from his exhausted, battle-scarred face.
His heart literally stopped.
A warm smile softened your expression when Magnus asked you to join his family in the dining hall. You had been sitting patiently in a small waiting room, wondering if this was right.
The first time you had laid eyes on Magnus a week ago, your heart jolted, and your mind went blank. He reminded you so much of your one and only true love, the one you ditched thirty-five years ago because you were too afraid to embrace the beautiful life he had offered you. The one you still felt in your heart, dormant yet very present in your everyday life.
Perhaps it was wrong of you to encourage this situation, whatever this was. When Magnus had asked you that morning to join his family for supper, he had caught you off guard, so you found yourself agreeing to it.
Deep down you knew why you hadn’t disappeared yet: you wanted to live this moment one more time. Wanted to remember how it felt to be loved so fiercely by Marcus, a yearning you’d been craving for over three decades. Only this man wasn’t Marcus, only someone who was his spitting image.
One dinner, a few hours more of playing pretend, and then you’d vanish again. Leave Rome behind after such brief visit before someone recognised you. You couldn’t afford to give any explanations, so you’d only visit this place once every decade.
You walked behind Magnus, head slightly bowed and hands laced in front of you. Magnus’ broad body blocked your vision, but soon enough he stepped aside to introduce you.
You curtsied, eyes averted, fixed on the marble slabs.
Before you straightened your back and introduced yourself, the man across the room spoke your name — your real birthname.
Inevitably, your heart sank to your belly with panic and your eyes quickly drifted up to meet the darkened ones you once had allowed yourself to swim in.
Marcus. Your Marcus.
Your heart raced in your chest and filled with pure joy. You couldn’t stop the smile that had started curling your lips nor the glassiness of your eyes.
Your one and true love was staring back at you with widened, tired eyes. He had gotten up off his chair and was striding towards you before he suddenly halted a couple of meters away from you with confusion painting his handsome features. Ones that had not remained impassible to the passage of time and war, but ones that you daydreamed about every single day without fail.
So within reach — you would only need to close the distance between you two and hug him, hug him till dawn and never let go. Oh, how much you missed him, how much you still loved him. With your whole heart, the one that ached and wept with regret in your chest right now.
Would he love you back? Did you break the love you shared past the point of mending?
“What? Her name is Aurora, father,” Magnus chuckled nervously, his eyes dancing between the two of you, puzzled. “This is the woman who has stolen my heart. I would like to marry the love of my life with your blessing.”
Your eyes flew from Marcus to Magnus at the revelation, bewildered. Marriage? Was this what it was all about, the purpose of his invitation to meet his family? Marcus’ son wanted to marry you?
You had not seen that coming, as it wasn’t your intention at all. You had only wanted to live this fleeting fantasy of yours for a few days, but there wasn’t love. Not like the one you felt for Marcus, that could never compare.
“Your name is Aurora?” Marcus’ question forced you to look in his direction, your heart twisting maddingly inside you. You nodded with hesitation, “I thought you were…” Marcus pronounced your real name again, the sinking pit of your stomach churning.
“That was my mother,” you quickly came up with a lie. You could never tell him the truth.
“Your mother,” he repeated slowly, shock and pain transforming his beautiful face. “I knew your mother.”
“What? Really?” Magnus intervened with a laugh, palming his father’s shoulder. “That’s such a coincidence!”
You looked at both of them, but your eyes inevitably lingered on Marcus’ darkened ones. Would he believe your lie? Again?
“The resemblance with her is… uncanny. You look so much like her, Aurora,” Marcus rasped, taking a step back and steeling his posture with determination.
He didn’t need to speak for you knew his hurt. Because the same memories that were flooding his mind, had been drowning you for decades.
The atmosphere felt heavy with unspoken truths, your face burning — you loathed yourself for the pain you had caused him. Pain that still contorted his expression every time his eyes flicked to yours.
Would he ever forgive you? Would he know that you lied so many years ago? That you truly and irremediably loved him? That you would always do?
You bowed down your head, mainly to conceal the unspent tears brimming on your waterlines.
“So I have been told, General,” you muttered softly as Magnus’ hand rested easily on the small of your back, his lips brushing your temple gently.
“I know this may seem sudden, father, but I know that Aurora is the one,” Magnus confessed shyly, pulling your body towards him in a warm half-embrace.
Never in your life had you wished yourself to disappear so badly. Marcus’ sight burnt through you and you couldn’t help but reciprocate him. The sadness—no, the heartbreak��in them was like a dagger through your heart, and you wondered if the decision you made so many years ago had been the right one.
By the looks of it, he had done well for himself, just as you had imagined he would. The villa was beautiful, sumptuous even. It spoke of his status in the Empire, how highly rewarded he had been for his enterprise. You assumed that Marcus had married eventually after you left, and you only hoped he’d married for love.
“I see,” Marcus murmured in reply to his son, walking back to his chair. “Let’s eat first. Prisca, my wife, won’t be joining us. She had to excuse herself because she wasn’t feeling well. Please forgive her absence.”
Prisca. So he hadn’t married for love, his family had won and forced him into an arranged marriage after all. Your heart cried for him, for the injustice you had showered upon him with your departure. Perhaps he ended up loving her so his life wouldn’t be as miserable.
That last thought stung, the dagger further twisting in your heart. You wanted his happiness, but selfishly you hoped Marcus still loved you. Undeserving of such love you were, that was clear to you, but you still hoped anyway.
“Of course, Dominus,” you hushed as Magnus guided you to an empty chair.
The food served was delicious, but the silence looming over the table tinged the atmosphere uncomfortable. Magnus did a remarkable effort to keep the conversation going, but Marcus’ succinct replies didn’t leave much room for chatter. And when Magnus pushed again about the marriage proposal—to you dismay—Marcus said that it could discussed tomorrow over breakfast.
Even though the man in front of you had aged, you still saw him as he was thirty-five years ago. He had a scar on his upper cheek and across the bridge of his aquiline nose, crows feet kissing the corners of his brown eyes, his thick curls were greying, and his demeanour was more stoic, but he was still your Marcus.
The only difference though was his lack of… life. His eyes didn’t sparkle anymore, they were tinted with darkness and sorrow. Had war changed him? Had you changed him?
Your throat collapsed on itself, tightening to the point of suffocation. Just in time, you reined in the tears as the last maid removed the plate in front of you.
“I should be going,” you announced, pushing back the chair to stand up.
Marcus sprung to his feet before his son did. And when he realised his promptness, he cleared his throat but didn’t speak.
“It’s late,” Magnus said, standing up to be by your side, throwing a confused glance to his father. “Could she stay the night, father, please?”
Marcus nodded.
“I will ask one of the servants to prepare one of the empty chambers,” Marcus conceded, walking around the table to meet his son.
“Oh,” Magnus sighed, and you knew he’d hoped to share a bed with you tonight.
Your face burnt once more with shame when Marcus’ eyes looked for yours. However, you didn’t meet his gaze, scared of what you would find in it.
“Thank you, General, you are most generous,” you husked in a low voice.
“I will show you around the villa in the meantime, amica mea,” Magnus said, his hand quick to rest on the back of your waist.
You subtly flinched at his endearment. That was what his father always called you. It felt wrong when he said it now, completely out of place — it didn’t at first, when you looked at him and imagined he was Marcus instead. But with the love of your life standing firm in front of you, it sounded so vile.
This fantasy of yours was a dangerous game, one you didn’t want to play. Not if it meant hurting Marcus again, because you could see the way he studied you. How his pupils dilated with anger every time his son would seek your touch. It was killing him, and you in the process. When everyone went to sleep, you would leave in the middle of the night, as the shadow you were condemned to be.
Magnus urged you to turn around and walk beside him, when you heard Marcus gasp.
“Your birthmark,” his words stopped you right in your tracks.
When Juno touched you to bring you back to life over a century ago, Her caress left a mark on the back of your left shoulder. The shape resembled that of a peacock, the loyal animal known to accompany the Goddess.
“What about it?” Magnus intervened, confused by the interruption.
Slowly you looked over your shoulder to glance at Marcus. His eyes were a window to his restless, half soul, desperate and blown — he knew. He searched your face for a crack, a way in, but your expression didn’t tumble.
You wished you could veer around and throw yourself in his arms, kiss him and apologise, ask him to take you back. But you just couldn’t. Love was heartbreak, and it would have to remain that way if you didn’t want to hurt Marcus even more than what you already had.
“Nothing,” he grumbled, jaw tight with a tic on the muscle.
Marcus stirred in bed, unable to get any sleep.
Your face haunted him brighter than ever — every time his eyes shut, your sorry expression would gnaw at the confines of his mind. Seeing you right in front of him after so many years, all curled up to his son’s side, drove him mad.
At first, he thought himself crazy. You looked exactly as you did thirty-five years ago — not even a wrinkle kissed your skin, not a greying hair anywhere to be seen in your plaited hair. So when you explained you were the daughter of the woman who broke his heart, he had believed you.
That was until he saw the birthmark on your shoulder. The unmistakable shape he had joked about in the past, telling you that you had been kissed by Juno Herself at birth. It was impossible that you had inherited such a peculiar mark.
But it was even more impossible that you had remained as youthful as you were, as if not a single day had passed. How was that even possible? Some people were gifted with slow ageing, he had seen some, but to remain exactly the same? No, there was something else lurking, an explanation he could not grasp because it was too surreal, too unfathomable for a mortal.
Marcus needed answers. His mind was a tangled mess, this new discovery shining a different light on the conversation that destroyed him over three decades ago. Did your words have a meaning he had not been able to see before?
“Eternity? Don’t speak of things you don’t understand, Marcus.”
What had you truly meant by that? Did you understand what eternity really was in a level he couldn’t even start to comprehend?
Heart pounding, he quietly removed the covers and sat on the bed. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that Prisca was sound asleep. Not that she would miss him anyway.
In darkness, Marcus palmed around until he found his toga and quickly changed to then walk out of his bedchamber with a clear destination in mind.
He trudged along the cold corridors of his villa until he found the door to the room you were sleeping in. For a second, he doubted, thinking he was crazy for the implausible reason taking form in his mind. But if it wasn’t that—that you were, somehow, ageless—he still needed to know why. Why hadn’t you aged? Why leave him? Why not tell him the truth?
As his shaky hand lifted and curled to knock on the wooden plank, the door swung open.
You appeared under the doorframe with a wild expression and widened eyes, obviously in a hurry to leave. Again.
“Marcus,” you gasped, one hand flying to your chest in surprise as your beautiful eyes met his.
He froze in place, all the words he had planned to say stuck to the back of his throat, forming a lump that would not let him speak. Your beauty was dazzling, but it was the buried love he harboured for you what stopped him from talking as it resurfaced.
His memory of you had not faded, able to remember every single feature of your face regardless the passage of time. Everything about you was engraved in his mind, but he had almost forgotten how sweet you smelt. Roses, with an earthy hint of grass.
As your scent numbed his mind, Marcus finally found his dry tongue.
“Don’t leave, please. Don’t leave again,” he begged in a hoarse whisper, his eyes diving in yours.
You looked up at him and he felt himself under a spell. The same one you had him under years ago, when the heart was shattered and the mind bleak. Because even when you waved him goodbye, he still loved you. Never stopped, was never able to hate you for what you did, what you said.
“Can we talk?” he pushed before realising your eyes were glassy with sadness. “I know your name is not Aurora. I know it’s you.”
Your bottom lip trembled as a single tear fell from the cliff of your lashes. Moved by his own ghost of the past, Marcus reached for your cheek with his palm, the thumb brushing away the tears that followed the first one.
You let go of a deep sigh, kissed the palm of his hand and nodded. His heart was beating so loud, so fast, he almost missed your words.
“I owe you an explanation, Marcus,” you finally spoke, a broken sob almost tearing his resolution.
As you stepped aside, Marcus came into the room you were so eager to leave behind. Your heartbeat had spiked the moment you saw him and hadn’t slowed down since then. Perhaps you didn’t die of heartbreak but could die of a heart attack.
For decades you had been running until you found him. Until Marcus made you believe you could have everything he promised. It had been the first time you had actually considered growing roots. But the thought of not being able to grow old, to see the love of your life wither away while you remained sane, was paralysing. You had panicked — too scared to accept the love of a man who would give up everything for you, too frightened to trust someone again.
But was Marcus not worthy of your trust? He demonstrated repeatedly how he would always protect you, always cherish you. Not only with words, but with actions too. He had been so considerate, so loving, for a moment in the past you thought it a ruse. How could someone be so damn perfect and still be real?
Your heart clenched in pain, seeing him latch the door behind him and turn around to face you. The look of confusion, of sorrow, ate at your conscience. Under the candlelight, his torn features stuck out, time unforgiving. He was still gorgeous, would always be in your eyes.
“I’m sorry,” was the first thing that slipped out before the quivering of your bottom lip let out a sob. “I’m so sorry, Marcus. I didn’t know Magnus was your son, otherwise I would have never—” you shook your head, taming your cries. “I should have known. He looks so much like you. When I first saw him, I thought it was you. That somehow you had been able to still time and be with me.”
You sobbed a pitiful laugh, unable to look him in the eye. It was shameful having to admit something like this — that you had chased after a boy because he reminded you of someone you loved. But despite your immortality, you were still capable of human mistakes.
“So you didn’t know he was my son?” Marcus asked quietly. You could see the inner workings of his mind ruminating as you shook your head no. “Do you love him? Were you really going to marry him?”
The questions caught you off guard. Although at some point you were expecting them, you didn’t think it would be this early in conversation. It might be for the better if it got out of the way as soon as possible, so you could explain yourself.
The first cut would be the deepest, although the rest would still hurt.
“I love the idea of him,” you emphasized, ashamed of yourself for giving in to such fantasy. “I thought I could love him the way I did you, that he could be a vessel of my love for you. That I could, for a few days, remember how it felt— how you felt. That I could have you one more time,” you paused and sighed, intertwining your hands together to twist them nervously. “I only met him a week ago, marriage did not cross my mind at all. I was going to leave once—”
“Once it got too serious,” he finished for you.
Marcus went quiet again, his eyes transfixed on you. You wished Juno blessed you with the ability to read minds, to know what he was thinking right this moment. Did he hate you for what you just revealed? Did he think you were sick for trying to live out a fleeting dream? Would he forgive you for such despicable behaviour?
“Do you still love me?” his gravelly voice was so low, for a moment you thought you had imagined it.
But the doubt, the fresh hurt in his wounded gaze, told you otherwise.
You gaped for air, your lungs strained with sorrow. You should fib, stand by your initial lie, tell him you didn’t. But what had that gotten you the first time around except for a life of misery and loneliness? What had that gotten him?
“I do. I do love you, Marcus,” you whispered, out of breath due to the pounding of your heart. “Couldn’t be any other way. You’re the other half of my soul that I’ve been missing for so long.”
Time stilled as you looked Marcus dead in the eyes. You were not expecting anything out of your raw confession, because the time for those had passed. It was what you should have said thirty-five years ago, not now. You were too late to mend the love that had slipped through the cracks of time.
“Then that’s all that matters,” he finally broke the silence, his voice laced with emotion.
The admission shook you. Could this be true, really happening? Did he still love you after all this time?
In a couple of strides, you found yourself in his arms, the way it should have been ages ago. His forearms wrapped around you like a warm blanket as his head bowed down to taste your lips.
You kissed him back, first sweetly, then fiercely. You kissed him with all the unexpressed love you held in your heart, with the passion your true love deserved. His tongue was as sweet as you remembered, as soothing as your memory recalled. A dance ensued, his tongue reading a love letter to yours.
Your hands, which had been resting on his chest, drifted up to cradle his face — his moustache and stubble pickling the skin of your palms. Marcus untied his mouth from yours to kiss your tears goodbye, then pressed a peck on your forehead. His heart was beating as loud as yours, in unison like true soulmates.
“I’ve missed you. I never stopped thinking about you, lux mihi,” he confessed under his breath. “Life was never the same after you left.”
His admission made your heart flutter even further, and you couldn’t help but let your hands roam his back. Your fingers played with the knot holding the toga in place, his seeping warmth beckoning.
“I need you, Marcus. Make love to me,” you pleaded, leaving a love trail of kisses on his neck.
Marcus’ chest rumbled at your plea, his lips hunting down yours in a heartbeat. His hands were quick with your clothing, worshipping the curves of your body as it was revealed to him. You did the same with his toga, until you were both bare, standing in front of each other.
You saw his eyes lingering on every nook and cranny of your skin before they found yours. A thunder of connection ran through you, of yearning. On your tiptoes, you kissed him again, pressing your breasts onto his chest while your fingertips traced the map of his back.
You didn’t expect all the bumps and grooves you found on his skin; battle scars dotted around everywhere. Some thick and protuberant, some thin and soft. Marcus keened at your touch, silently letting you know that some of them were too sensitive to be caressed.
How much hurt his body and heart had endured, a life dedicated to war and duty. Your heart cried for him, for not being able to be by his side when he needed you most. Had you taken up his offer, had he run away from responsibility with you, his skin would tell a different story.
But the past couldn’t be changed, only the present was malleable enough to shape a new future.
Slowly he pushed you towards the bed, his hands resting on either side of your waist while his thumb drew lazy circles on your bristled skin. Raking your fingers through his silver curls, you leaned back on the mattress, his warm body blanketing yours.
His hands found the apex of your breasts, soft fingers rubbing your taut nipples as your head tilted back. Marcus licked the salt of your exposed neck, finding your pulse point. He kissed the spot and lingered, your vein pulsing against his lips as one of his hands discovered the slick your thighs harboured for him.
The feathery caress of his ring finger outlining your seam turned you into a whimpering mess. His pad stroked your nub, a slight flick followed before it slid down your slit and found your weeping hole. He circled it a few times, taunting you effortlessly, before returning to your clit.
You heaved, lips pursed so your moans would stay contained. In the dead of the night, you worried this show of love would seep through the walls. But not even the thought of his marriage, the thought of Magnus lying in bed a few rooms over, could stop you from joining your bodies together the way the Gods intended.
Marcus’ mouth travelled down the column of your neck, kissing the center of your clavicle before he went further down. Your unattended nipple was soon enough smothered by the wetness between his lips, and you fisted his hair in response, gently tugging at it.
“Marcus,” you moaned, eyes shut. Rejoiced.
One nipple drowned in his spit, the other pinched between his fingers, and his ring finger pressing tight circles on your thudding clit had you fighting to remain silent. But the moment the hand between your hands moved down and his digit teased your walls apart as it sank in your slick warmth, you couldn’t stop the muffled yet loud moan.
“Sing for me, meum corculum (my little heart),” Marcus husked. The gentle pumping of his finger in your wet heat had you quietly howling a few seconds later. “That’s it.”
Your felt your walls contract, pulse around his finger, holding onto him for dear life. Feeling your need as his own, Marcus dunked his middle finger in your pussy too, stretching you while his thumb stroked your clit. The combination of it all made you clench around him, almost begging for release.
“Let go for me,” Marcus asked between licks, and you couldn’t resist his prayer.
The coil that had been tightening inside you finally snapped, releasing a wave that coursed through your quaking body like a tumultuous sea. Your back slightly arched as your thighs trembled around his forearm, chest rising with a dire need for oxygen.
Marcus chuckled softly, setting your nipple free as he searched for your mouth again. He devoured you as you came down from your high, his erect cock gently resting on your mound. The weight of it on your sensitive skin felt like it belonged. The anticipation of welcoming him inside you made you gush.
“Let me drink you, kiss you, savour you,” he pressed a kiss on your mouth after each pause.
Your skin flushed; the proposition was somewhat indecent. It was lewd, frowned upon, and you were tethered to the chains of social decency. But there was nothing decent about infidelity, after all.
“Please, mea vita (my life). I can make you reach for the moon and the stars in the ceiling above if you let me, make you touch them,” he promised.
You shyly nodded, and his boyish grin grew wider, his lips tensing. So contagious, you smiled back as he came off you and moved your body until your butt was on the edge of the mattress.
He scooted you over towards him until the back of your knees were resting on his shoulders — leaving you completely exposed to his hungry gaze. His eyes lingered on your leaking dampness, his dilated pupils tracing the outline of your seam. The intensity of it all, the deep connection, made your thighs press together against his neck, wanting to hide your core from him.
You had nothing to be shy of, as Marcus had already seen you bare before. Sex with him had always been ardent, fervent — the heat of passion always got the best of you both, a certain urgency to consummate your love. But now? Now was different. There was no rush in his movements, in how his thumbs pried your pussy lips open, in how his warm lips brushed the sensitive skin on your inner thigh. His calm confidence in taking you as he had promised was new to you, who never had all the time in the world. But right now, you did. For Marcus, you did. Always would.
Your lashes fluttered, kissing the apples of your cheeks the moment the languid strokes of his tongue met your swollen flaps. He kissed one gently, then the other, before the wet muscle lapped from your gushing hole up to your clit. So venerating were his licks, your limbs relaxed at the intimate kiss.
“You taste like ambrosia, lux mihi. The best relish I have ever been graced with,” his hot breath collided with the cold skin on your slit, your body trembling in response.
“Marcus, please,” you begged, although you were not sure why, or what you were asking of him.
He didn’t leave you waiting again. His fingers sank in the flesh of your thighs while his tongue dived inside your slick furrow. So dextrous were his charges, you couldn’t help but mewl like a starved kitten in a back alley asking for leftovers. First, he flicked your excited bundle of nerves, and then he suckled on it, his jaw working you through the climb to another orgasm. The buildup was intense, but it became feverish the moment his finger joined the action — it slid easily inside, curled to caress the precise spongy spot of your arousal.
Unaware of your own actions, one of your hands slithered down your belly until you fisted his curls — pushing him towards the centre of your heat, not away from it. He hadn’t lied — the stars appeared behind your eyes, bright like the future you wished you had with him. A sea of constellations, all imploding at once in an amazing rain of stars that blinded you as you came crashing down from the skies.
You heaved and wailed his name in ecstasy, your entire body quivering with the strength of a thousand suns. Your entrance clenched around his finger as you held your breasts, your thumbs ghosting the taut buttons. You leaked your pleasure on his mouth, and he drank unashamedly, grateful of your offering.
A sweet kiss on your mound before he towered over you, and you could only look at him in awe with raw, true love. When his battered body blanketed yours, you draped your arms around his waist, hands lightly resting on his lower back. The knowing smirk on his lips spoke of a muted “I told you so.”
“I love you,” he whispered instead.
Your heart swooned and healed and cried and exploded. All at once. He hadn’t said those exact words yet, but they were veiled in every sentence, every action he had said or done tonight. Deep inside you were eternally grateful that he hadn’t grown to hate you, that his love for you remained intact despite heartache, circumstances and time.
Unbeknownst to you, tears welled up, ones that Marcus drank too. As he did, your palms stroked his ribs, careful to avoid the scars you had come to learn were too delicate. Eager, one slid off his skin until your fingers wrapped around his throbbing manhood. Eyes down, you saw the pearly bead of pre-cum commending you to butter it on his flushed head. With your thumb you caressed the tip, and Marcus’ lips parted in need — an invitation you quickly accepted, dunking your tongue in his mouth.
A few pumps had him groaning and soon enough you were guiding him to the pocket of heat between your thighs. His cockhead kissed your gushing entrance the same way his lips did — knowing, denuded, possessing. And slowly he made his way in, parting your flesh like a new stream disturbing the earth beneath. The burning sting was most welcomed, blossoming into a fullness you had craved for decades.
“I’m home,” Marcus rasped when he was fully seated in your cunt.
Your throat clamped a little, emotion overtaking your senses the same way his erection did.
“Welcome home, dilectus (beloved),” you muttered with a loving smile and teary eyes.
You melted into a slow kiss as Marcus rocked his hips, rutting into you almost lethargically, wanting the moment to last. You let him set the pace, the drag of his cock in your pussy a delight that had you reaching for the stars again and your inner walls squeezing him tight. The sweet rhythm of his swaying tightened the slick, hot coil that pooled low in your belly, and the moment Marcus gained momentum, you followed.
Needily he started fucking into you with precision, chasing both of your highs. His dick pulsed inside you, your heartbeat instinctually adapting to his in a second. Both so close to the sky above, gasping for air now, you rocked underneath him to amplify such pleasure.
“Marcus,” you whimpered, your hands now cradling his face. You lost yourself in his eyes, blown and loving. “Please, inside,” was everything you murmured.
Even after your petition, the snap of his hips against yours didn’t falter. Instead, the pace increased as his wild orbs studied your blissed out expression.
“Do you mean it?” You nodded effusively. “Do you want your belly round with my child?”
You didn’t even know if it was possible — yes, you looked young but were closer to a hundred and fifty years on this earth than to the day you were born. The fertility of your womb was one you never dared to test in your immortal life, but the thought of having such a memory—someone—to remember him by when the days grew cold and the nights dark was overpowering reality.
“Yes, I do,” you reassured him, pecking his lips softly.
His head fell, his face resting on the crook of your neck, while he made love to you. His moves stuttered, announcing his climax, and your pussy hugged him tight in a natural response. The moment the first ropes hit your cervix, you came undone too. As Marcus filled you with his warm spent, you creamed around his beating girth, your hands holding onto his shoulders as your back arched and your nipples kissed his chest.
It took both of you a few minutes to come down, for the haze of lovemaking to slowly dissolve in the musky air. Marcus hungered for your lips and he hunted them down with eagerness. Your bodies finally untied, his cock leaving you empty yet satisfied.
You hoped—prayed—his seed would take root in your womb. Even if it was impossible, the sliver of a miraculous possibility gave you a resemblance of hope. So you pressed your thighs together, greedy of his gift.
Marcus rolled off you, falling onto his tummy besides you. Quickly you laid on your side, your fingertips tracing the lines of his skin again. A feathery touch to alleviate the harshness of life. He unburied his face from the pillow and turned to look at you.
His smile was instant, and so was yours.
For an hour no words were spoken at all, no sleep was achieved either. You both remained silent, staring at each other, soaking up the love that flooded the chamber.
Replacing your fingers with your lips, you kissed the scars on his back, his shoulders, his arms. And finally his nose and cheek, where you dawdled as if your caress could erase the pain they inflicted.
“What are we going to do, amica mea?” Marcus husked after what felt like an eternity.
Reality set in, leaving a gaping hole in your belly. What could you do? Would you be strong enough to stay by his side for however long the goddess Mors took to claim him? Strong enough to build a life you knew was ephemeral? And once he was gone from this mortal plane, what would be left of you?
The choice was an impossible one. One that you should have made decades ago, when the heart was whole and the mind still strong. Now you knew how arduous life was without him, how—for years—you had looked for him in the small details and every single man who resembled him, how the regret and the grief haunted you at every turn of a decade. Now you knew that life wasn’t worth living if you didn’t have Marcus to share it with.
You traced the profile of his nose with your lips before pressing a soft kiss on his.
“I am not sure, but I am willing to try… if you are,” you whispered, leaning back.
The implications of such life were huge for him. Married, with a son who though himself in love with you, an acclaimed General who served Rome even when Rome didn’t serve him. His responsibilities were greater than yours, Marcus had so much to lose. Had you accepted his proposal when you should have, neither of you would be in such dire situation.
Marcus sighed heavily, rolling onto his side to face you. His calloused hand cradled your cheek, his eyes filled with a determination you wished you had back then, when life was easier.
“There is nothing nor no one that could stop me from spending the rest of my life with you, lux mihi,” he mumbled, hand dropping to your hip. “I said it then, and I will say it again: I do not care for this life if you are not with me. I don’t care about reputation nor retaliation. For over fifty years I have done what was expected of me, and I am done living my life for Rome and her vice. You’re the stars that light up my path in the darkest of nights, the warm sun that guides me home. For however long you’ll have me, I’ll be with you. My heart was always yours, mea vita, since the moment I landed eyes on you. And I don’t want it back, ever, even if you have to leave again.”
The softness of his delivery, the truth his words emanated, brought tears to your eyes. You thought yourself unworthy of his love, his devotion, when you had only caused heartbreak. But this was your second chance, one you were not going to let go.
You moved closer to him as his arm wrapped around you. With your forehead resting on his naked chest, you traced invisible lines on his ribs.
“I won’t leave. That broke me once, can’t handle it a second time. I love you and want to spend the rest of our time together showing you how much I do, making up for lost time. For however long,” you repeated, kissing his chin.
There was a brief pause, and you knew what his next words would be.
“How old are you?” the question you had always avoided, dreaded.
“Close to three times your age,” you confessed, looking up at him through your lashes.
The answer slowly sank in, but instead of horror, incomprehension and disgust, you only found acceptance. As if it was just another fact about you, nothing of major importance.
“You look amazing for being close to one hundred and fifty years of age,” he joked with a grin to lighten the mood. You let out a soft laugh in response. “How? If you want to share.”
The story of how you came to be ageless wasn’t a pleasant one. But your life was full of secrets that had ruined every human link you had to this earth, and you wouldn’t let them spoil the only real connection you had left.
“I… I was promised to a man, one who I thought was worthy of my love. There were things I was blind to at that time, and only time showed them to me. I thought everything was going as expected, he was always so courteous and respectful in public. Until our wedding night, when he…” you paused, the memories too painful even after all this time, “he abused me, and let his friends use me. When they were done, they left me for dead in a ditch.”
Marcus’ arm draped around you tighter, his heart beating so loud you could hear it thumping against his chest. He hugged you close, his warmth calming and reassuring. Marcus was nothing like that man, if your abuser could even be considered a person. You knew he never would be so despicable — you were as sure as the first lights of the sun would wake you up tomorrow.
“It took me hours to finally drift away. And when I did, Juno greeted me. Said the man had wronged me, and that I should have a second chance to understand what marriage and true love actually were about. Then she touched me right here,” you caressed the peacock-shaped birthmark, “and breathed life into me.”
Marcus leaned back a little to inspect your torn features. The heartache he had to endure paled in comparison to yours. How could someone inflict such hurt on another? He couldn’t even fathom such disgusting scenario. That man was the reincarnation of evil, and he wished he suffered the most agonising death.
He had only seen your soul’s purity, your kindness, your benevolence. Anyone who didn’t was blind.
“You did not deserve that ending, amica mea — no one does. He didn’t deserve you,” his heart cried for you, for the weight you had carried for over a century. “You’ve got the purest heart I have ever known. A soul that I will protect until my dying breath.”
“A half soul,” you interrupted him, and Marcus looked at you confused. “Because your other half completes mine.”
His heart jolted, this time because of the sweetness of your confession. That muscle had grown bigger in the last two hours than in his entire lifetime. He sworn himself to stand by your side, come what may. You would never be wronged again, not if he could avoid it.
“We’re leaving tonight,” Marcus declared without skipping a beat.
“What? What about your wife, your son?” your eyes had widened, but his resolution was firm.
“My wife… she’s not been my wife for years. She’s poison. And my son…” he shrugged, conflicted. “He’ll eventually understand, or so I hope. I believe he might already have an inkling that something weird was at play from the moment I said your real name.”
“Marcus, are you sure? You’d be sacrificing so much for me, I wouldn’t want to—”
He didn’t let you finish, his mouth covering yours in a passionate kiss that slowly turned gentle and soothing. Your hands caressing his battle-scarred skin was like a balm; your touch the first and only one to cure all his ailments. Unhurriedly, he sat back up on the bed, dragging you with him.
“Let’s leave now. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, lux mihi,” Marcus purred against your lips.
Fifteen minutes later, you were both clothed and atop of two horses, blending in with the shadows of the night that concealed your departures, in search of a new life. Together.
taglist: @orcasoul @lilac-boo @picketniffler @almostfoxglove @gothcsz @liciafonseca @namenotimportant1373
#fic: love is heartbreak#marcus acacius#general marcus acacius#marcus acacius x reader#marcus acacius x you#marcus acacius x female reader#marcus acacius fanfiction#marcus acacius angst#general acacius#marcus acacius fic#gladiator#gladiator au#gladiator 2#gladiator 2 fanfiction#pedro pascal#pedro pascal character#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal cinematic universe#ppcu#pedro pascal x you#general acacius x reader#general acacius x you
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“can i leave a kiss on your soft lips, baby?”
it was one of those days. the kind of day where bakugo katsuki found himself in an internal battle, silently questioning what the hell it was about you that had him so damn hooked.
it reminded him of the time his mom used to go on about how she fell in love with his old man, telling that whole corny love story. he thought it was stupid back then, but now, here he was, going through the same damn thing with you.
you weren’t doing anything special, and you hadn’t changed a damn thing about how you looked—you were just you. the way you carried yourself, the way your laugh filled the room as you scrolled through your phone, probably watching some dumb tiktok. and that laugh, all carefree and unaware, drove him crazy. you had no idea how much it was getting to him. hell, he loved every little thing about you, even if it pissed him off sometimes.
katsuki stood by the counter, arms crossed, crimson eyes trained on you. he told himself he wasn’t staring; he was observing. watching. noticing every damn detail about you.
why the hell do you have to look so good doing nothing? he thought, scowling as he clenched his jaw.
it annoyed him to no end. not you—no, never you—but the fact that he couldn’t stop feeling this way. the worst part was you weren’t even trying to be attractive; you just were. the kind of attractiveness that made him feel vulnerable, and katsuki bakugo didn’t do vulnerable.
when you glanced up from your phone and caught his glare, you raised an eyebrow. “why are you looking at me like that?”
“like what?” he snapped, quickly averting his gaze and biting the inside of his cheek.
“like i just insulted your cooking or something.” you tilted your head, amused.
“damn it,” he muttered under his breath, ignoring your teasing.
you set your phone down, curiosity piqued. “what’s up with you?”
he didn’t answer immediately. his gaze flicked back to you, and it hit him again. that look in your eyes, the sound of your voice, the way you stood there like you weren’t making his heart pound out of his chest. katsuki ran a hand through his spiky blond hair, a growl rumbling low in his throat as he closed the distance between you.
when he was close enough, he reached out, his calloused hand cupping your face. his thumb brushed over your cheek, rough but surprisingly gentle. you blinked up at him, caught off guard.
“katsuki?” your voice was soft, questioning his actions.
he didn’t answer right away, his crimson eyes locking onto yours. for a moment, his usual scowl softened, something unspoken passing between you. then, in a voice low and steady, he said,
“can i leave a kiss on your soft lips, baby?”
your breath hitched, and your lips parted in surprise. a shy smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you nodded.
the corners of his lips twitched into a small smirk before he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. the kiss was slow and filled with a raw intensity that made your heart race. katsuki wasn’t often tender—he didn’t think he needed to be—but when he was, it was like the world melted away, leaving only the two of you.
when he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his crimson eyes still locked onto yours.
“you drive me crazy,” he muttered, his voice quieter than usual. “hate how much i love you sometimes.”
you laughed softly, wrapping your arms around his neck. “i love you too, katsuki.”
#might be ooc#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugo katsuki#bakugo katsuki x reader#bnha bakugo katsuki#mha x reader#mha x you#mha bakugou#reqs open
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You know, I've seen a few people online making shitty comments about the fires in SoCal right now, and about all the rich peoples' homes burning, and I'm disgusted and just so exhausted over how crass, mean-spirited, and downright nasty so many people are the moment they think they're in the clear to feel good about someone else being hurt, just as long as it's, you know, one of THOSE people and not them.
Meanwhile, I'm over here thinking about when I used to work at the hippie woo store a few years back, and I was waiting outside for the bus after a night shift, and one of our regular customers (a pretty wealthy woman who I'm pretty sure LIVES in one of the areas that's affected by the fires right now) drove past me, then pulled around and gave me a ride home.
And then I remembered the time she waited until nearly closing time one night hoping to confront another regular customer who had been horrendously rude to me.
Hot take: I have had coworkers that were full on MAGA, anti-vaxxers, anti-choice, etc. and as much as I absolutely could not stand those people, as angry as I was that I would get punished for reporting their inappropriate behavior, as resentful as I was about the times I was told to apologize to my racist old coworker for offending her by pointing out that she can't be going on insane rants while ringing up our fucking customers, at the end of the day, if I ran across that same coworker bleeding out in the road, I would run out to help her.
I fundamentally disagreed with her on every single thing that came out of her mouth. I consider her one of the most vapid, selfish, and ignorant people I've ever met in my life. And I would still help her if I came across her and she needed it, not because I particularly want to do something nice for her, but because it's the right thing to do.
I would not take pleasure out of watching her suffer, or lose her home. I would not enjoy watching my most hated customers go through that. I sure as hell don't enjoy seeing complete strangers suffer and lose THEIR homes. I could sit here and whine about how at least THEY have homes to lose, or I could do the bare minimum thing that any decent person can do, and just not be a huge asshole.
I'm sure a good at least a few of those people who lost their homes were probably some of my worst customers. I know the area (well, a little bit, anyway), and I know we had shoppers that would come out to our store from there. And quite a few of them were absolutely insufferable. And still, I hope that they are safe, and that their homes are okay.
#palisades fire#california#cheering for “rich people” to lose their homes in a traumatic wildfire#that is on track to possibly be the worst one we've ever had#is inexcusably shitty#there is a time and a place to discuss wealth disparities#there is a time and a place to advocate for change#fine bring attention to the fire fighters and how California voted against ending prison slave labor#but you can do it without being a jackass about people you don't even know#at least some of whom are actually pretty decent people#every time we have a big wildfire in this state I see people fucking celebrating it#do you even know how badly you have to fuck up to make ME come out and defend California? Or Californians in general?#and especially Los Angeles at that?!#shitting on Los Angeles is my favorite hobby#every stereotype you've ever heard about LA is 100% true lol#so if I'm coming out and saying you guys need to stfu you've gone too far
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Damn, I regret reading all of this. You really believe masculinity is constructed around the hatred of women??? You're really disconected from masculinity then.
You know what hurt me the most when I was a trans woman? People like you! Your ideas made me hate my body, your ideas made me afraid of what I was capable of, your ideas made me allow myself to be abused by women.
You know how many trans women I've had to see struggling with that too? Not because of dysphoria but because of the whole discourse around anything masculine. And now I don't just need to defend them against terfs and transphobes, I need to defend them from other trans women who seek so desperately to validate their fucking womanhood by adopting the most barebones surface level oppositional sexist feminism. Like what you are spewing right here.
You know what is constructed around the hatred of women? Patriarchal masculinity and Patriarchal femininity. The alt-right men, the radical feminist women, all of those imbeciles, specific types of each side.
Man-hating doesn't end at men no, it always leads to hatred of anything with masculine traits, be it men from minorities, masculine women, butches, trans women, some non-binary people, some intersex people, etc.
It's the literal terf and radfem rethoric or men bad and dangerous women good and pure that leads to the hatred against trans women in the first place. It's what causes so many trans men and transmascs to have trouble with their transition because they are constantly being told how all masculine traits are undesireable and worse than feminine traits.
And you really out here like women are not also perpetuators of the patriarchy, in my whole life most of the sexism, misoginy and transphobia I've recieved came from cis women.
If you wanna perpetuate the ideas behind transphobia don't coat them in trans colors, just go mask off and save us some time. If you actually wanna help trans people and trans women in specific stop with this bullshit, reflect on what you are actually saying and the effects it has, and grow and learn to be better.
You won't ever convince me with your arguments because your theories fail to match the reality of our world, so you can either argument for your fans, rage at me, try to learn from your mistake or shut your mouth and stop spewing stealth hate. Bye.
So when women say they hate men we can agree that most of them arent saying "testosterone bad" right? It's pure projection to read it like that. It also shouldnt be read as "men are fundamentally evil by their spiritual male nature". Thats also projection. Im insecure af too but like come on now.
If trans men have such amazing insight into patriarchy then we can probably read between the lines that what is being said is "the overwhelming and endless cycle of patriarchal conditioning affects trans men too. Because masculinity is currently construed around hatred of all things woman, trans men are going to internalize at least some of these thought patterns pre- and post transitioning, and thus are not fundamentally different from other types of men when it comes to violence against women. Some of this violence is unintentional callousness, carelessness or performative cruelty and thus creates a hostile environment for women who are afraid of these behaviors".
Patriarchy isnt just big strong white hetero men who beat up the men they deem unfit, or scrutinize the behavior of other men until everyone conforms. It's also the nerdy men who project their insecurity onto women and repeat the cycle, thus elbowing their way into acceptable masculinity through emotional and verbal violence instead of fists. And so much of trans man masculinity is just this pattern in a smaller scale.
Also just going to trans women's posts to harass them and crying about misandry and eyeing every feminist statement with suspicion truly is just misogyny 101 and has to stop
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needing
Rafe Cameron x Maybank!Reader
Warnings: English isn't my first language so I apologize for any and all mistakes. All GIF credits to the owner. Heavy implications of smut but no actual smut. Kind of Toxic!Rafe but idk??This is lowkey rushed but I needed it to get out there lol.
ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ʚɞ˚
Being JJ’s sister already meant people had a bad perception of you, but your attitude did not help the rumors anyway. You weren’t known for being nice to everyone, and that was fine because it scared the weirdos away most of the time.
You’ve always seemed strong and independent. Insults usually rolled right off you, and situations didn’t seem to bother you. Being hard-headed and having an attitude all the time was a good cover. But it was all a front. At home, your dad would constantly abuse alcohol, and you and JJ often bore the brunt of his rage. When JJ started sleeping at John B’s house and only saw you once a week, you ended up taking most of the hits.
You were friends with the Pogues, but not as close as JJ was, so you didn’t feel comfortable staying at John B’s house.
You met Rafe almost a year ago at a party. It was meant to be an emotionless hook-up and nothing more. But over time, what started as frequent, meaningless sex evolved into a friends-with-benefits situation. You two began spending a lot of time together, both with and without there being sex involved. He started taking you out to places and even to parties with his friends and others around.
But he wasn’t your boyfriend. And every time you attempted to bring it up he'd claimed he “couldn’t be the man you needed.” Despite that, as you grew closer, he eventually learned about your home life. Rafe wasn’t stupid—he knew Pogues had it hard—but he hadn’t realized how much your situation affected you. How you were really a sweet and caring person who had just been hurt by your situation. Once he did learn, he started spending more time with you at his house, claiming, “Look, I know this is just sex, but come on, I can’t have you around that bullshit, ‘kay?”
You didn’t complain—free days at Tannyhill with him were a welcome escape!
Everything was fine until Rafe started treating you like an actual girlfriend. You wanted to be his, but was he really capable? Anyway, it wasn’t what he wanted—he’d made that very clear—so it didn’t matter.
Then, you two got into a bad argument last week. You’d started feeling very dependent on Rafe, and you hated it. So you began to pull back, which only made him care more. One comment led to another, and…
“Rafe, stop. If you’re not my boyfriend, stop acting like you care about me like one.”
“My god! You don’t want me to care about you just ‘cause I don’t wanna be your boyfriend? S’pathetic.”
“Fuck you!” you yelled before storming out.
You hadn’t seen or talked to him since. He was pissed but still wanted to fix things; he just didn’t know how.
That’s when you called.
Your dad had come home drunk, yelling and throwing things. You could no longer bear it. So you called Rafe.
“Hey, I’ll be at yours in like half an hour,” you told him, not waiting for a response.
When you arrived, Wheezie let you in. (She already knew the procedure and wouldn’t snitch,) but she stopped you.
“Hey, you okay? You don’t look okay,” she asked.
You put on your best smile. “Yeah! M’fine! Rafe’s here, right?” She nodded and let you pass.
When you reached Rafe’s room, he was sitting on his bed. His eyes instantly met yours. You climbed onto the bed, inching towards him, and eventually straddled him without saying a word while he stared at you.
“Hi,” you whispered before kissing him.
Rafe, being a man with needs, initially kissed you back. But after sensing something was wrong, he pulled back.
“Nah, nah, you were just over here yelling at me. I’m not mad, okay, but you’re not okay,” he said, concern in his voice.
You frowned as tears welled up in your eyes. “Rafe, m’fine. I’m sorry. You’re forgiven. Please just kiss me. Come on, I just need to forget.”
He kissed you again but stopped when he felt you begin to cry lightly, your breath hitching out of sadness.
“Nah, baby, come on,” he said, pulling you into a hug and holding you tight.
You couldn’t cry in front of him. You couldn’t be so attached to him. It freaked you out, and you tried to push him off.
“Rafe, stop!” you cried, but his grip only tightened.
“What is it? Is it me?” he asked softly, stroking your hair to calm you down. “Your parents?” he whispered.
Finally, you broke down, crying into his chest and wetting his shirt with your tears. Although you had previously confided in him, it had never been like this. He whispered a series of “M’sorrys” as he stroked your hair.
When you finally calmed down, you pulled back and got off him, heading to his mirror to clean yourself up. He stared at you with concern.
“Shit, sorry. Okay, well, m’gonna go now,” you said quickly.
He immediately got up and walked over, towering over you. “The fuck you are. You haven’t told me what’s wrong or why you tried to forget by fucking me.”
“I just needed to forget, okay? No point crying over something I can’t change.”
“Something you can’t change?”
“What?”
“What is the something you can’t change?”
“The situation with my dad and your feelings toward me,” you calmly explained.
“Now, why’d you think fucking was gonna make everything better, huh?” he scolded, switching the topic.
You looked away. “Thought that’s what you wanted.”
“What?”
“I thought you’d no longer be mad at me or wouldn’t care if I was crying if you got to fuck,” you said lightly.
He scoffed in disbelief. “You think that’s the kind of person I am? Baby, I care so much more for you than I’ll ever let on, okay? And this isn’t just sex. You are so much more to me as a person. It’s important to me that you know that, ‘kay?”
You nodded, still waiting for him to respond to your earlier comment.
His face softened. “Look, I wanna be your boyfriend, ‘kay? More than anything, fuck, believe me. But I can’t be the man you deserve. You deserve so much better.”
You scoffed lightly. “But I want you.”
He sighed. “Let me better myself. Then I promise.” He leaned in and kissed your forehead softly. “Stay here tonight, yeah?”
You nodded.
Later that night, as you drifted off to sleep, he kissed your arms, shoulders, and face with gentle affection. “I love you,” he whispered before the both of you fell asleep.
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron x you#rafe obx#rafe x reader#fanfiction#outerbanks rafe#rafe x you#rafe cameron angst#rafe imagine#rafe cameron obx#luvy writes!
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Hii! It’s me again, back at it with another request (your writing is just so good! I can’t get enough of it).
So this is another dad!Daryl one, one where the reader is pregnant. So we know that some of the Saviours in season 9 didn’t particularly like Daryl because of everything that happened. What if a couple of the Saviours cornered the reader and kidnapped her, taking her to some place to keep her in. Daryl, naturally, is seeing red and will do just about anything to get her back. Angst with a happy ending.
Love you if you write this, love you if you don’t! 💜
What I do, I do for You
Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader
Summary: When two Saviors kidnap you - Daryl's pregnant wife - in order to score him off, the archer sees red and does everything to safe you... Everything.
Set in Season 9!
Warnings: Lots of bad stuff is happening, so please act with caution! usual TWD stuff, a lot of angst, pregnancy stuff, violence, blood, character death, murder, brief mentions of rape, FLUFF, Justin & Jed (yep, they're a warning), please tell me if I missed something!
Also, protective!Daryl alert. He goes absolutely feral.
Word Count: 6.9k
a/n: @dixons-sunshine I really hope that I could do your request justice. 🙏🏼 I loved to write it and tried to give my absolute best. 🧡
EoH Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist
"Ya sure 'bout that?" Your husband asked with a tinge of concern and fear in his voice. "Ya really wanna come?" You gave him a smile and stepped closer; invading his space. "Positive. I am drop-dead serious about it," you announced and raised your hands to his chest; adjusting the lapels of his angel-winged vest. "I absolutely hate it when you're away and I'm alone in Alexandria... Especially now..." Your gaze fell onto your yet small baby bump; Daryl's blue-greyish eyes following.
He couldn't suppress the soft smile on his lips, neither the quickening of his heartbeat. The man who had lost more in his whole life than he had won, had still a hard time to believe that he actually wasn't dreaming. That this was real. You. The 'wedding band' around your ring finger. The life he was granted to spend with you. Or hence, the new life growing inside you. Him, becoming a father. It was too good to be true. Daryl had to pinch himself on a regular basis, and still questioned himself how a man like him deserved something so precious. Luckily, you were always here to erase the bad thoughts ghosting through his mind... And to remember him how valuable he was to you - and to all the people around you whom you called family.
"A'right. 'M gonna take ya with me to the Sanctuary. Yer maybe right. Best way ta protect ya 's keepin' ya close to me I s'ppose," he agreed in the end and leaned forward to bestow a lingering kiss on your forehead. You smiled. "Thank you so much, baby. You won't regret it, I swear."
"I know, sunshine," he finally answered; his voice huskily with emotion. From the both hands resting on your hips traveled one to the front of your body; gently cupping the bump which was his child. "But 'm not sure..." You pouted. "Please, Dar... I don't want to miss you... And we both know I'd be the safest within your presence."
The archer chewed on the inside of his bottom lip for a long moment; contemplating his next words.
Oh, how wrong the both were going to be...
Barely two days later, you and Daryl made your way to the Sanctuary. Not on his bike, though. The archer had made that clear the moment you and him left the basement apartment you called home. "Hell nah. We ain't takin' the bike. 'S outta question. 'Specially in yer condition," your husband had said, causing you to roll your eyes with a smile. Sure, you understood him and got his point, but you were also aware that this wasn't a 'condition'. You were pregnant. Not sick. And besides, not even that far along. About four months was Siddiq's guess.
Of course, you hadn't even tried to reason with the archer; knowing already that you'd fight a battle you couldn't win. So, you had followed him without a word to one of Alexandria's cars - certainly not horse; Daryl would rather walk than riding on a horseback, even if it would take him days to get to his destination on foot - and were now comfortably seated in the passenger seat. Daryl steered the car to the place you actually still despised deep down in your heart; not having forgotten the things Negan and the Saviors had done. What they had taken and almost took from you.
A few former Saviors were out and about. Most of them tending to the crops and other things planted in the makeshift gardens. The lot of them greeted you and Daryl with respect; some even gave a smile, but others... If looks could kill. The coldness and hate in theirs eyes sent a shiver down your spine. Of course you knew that some Saviors didn't quite... appreciate the mercy you showed them, neither the things you did for them. They were still hanging on to Negan. Daryl knew as well - and he didn't tolerate them. Unfortunately, he had to. At the end of the day, he bent and listened to his brother; being faithful and loyal.
You passed by lots of beautiful places on your way; proofs that mother nature had taken back what belonged to her. But you also saw a lot of rotting corpses trudging and staggering down the abandoned streets, meadows and woods. Life and death battling over the world domination. Nobody would've seen it coming that the line between decay and reincarnation was going to be that thin at some point - and here we were.
"Ya a'right, sunshine?" Daryl's deep, but comforting and definitely slightly worried voice urged suddenly to your ears. You blinked and tried to refocus again. You didn't notice that you had your head in the clouds; lost in thoughts. Neither did you notice that Daryl had parked and turned off the engine of the car. "Uh, yeah, sure. Sorry. Just spaced out a bit." Daryl nodded and gave you a last look, before he opened the car door and moved to get out of his seat. "C'mon. We're here."
It was strange to be back at the Sanctuary. Only the mere look at the huge, old factory caused an uneasy feeling to spread within your stomach. And you could tell that Daryl wasn't quite at ease either. How could he? After all he had to go through here... After all the traumatizing experiences...
"Daryl." A blond woman approached the two of you. Your eyes scanned her face; realizing that you knew her. Laura - if you remembered correctly. The archer jutted his chin into her direction; silently addressing her. The both of them started to talk. Something about the crops and an incident with a 'living' walker as a scarecrow. You didn't pay fully attention to your husband and the former Savior, since you could clearly feel a pair of eyes on you. In search for them, you looked to your left; meeting eyes with a man. Tall, longer black hair and a beard. He was quite a few yards away from you but you could clearly tell that he was the one watching you.
You blinked and waved it off. It was most likely 'cause he had never seen you before.
"Let's get our stuff inside. 'S gettin' dark soon." Your husband's voice caused you to redirect your attention. "Yeah..." You nodded; still a bit absentmindedly, and followed Daryl inside the building.
He led you down several corridors, until you reached a spacious room with a bed, attached bathroom and a few other basic things. While Daryl put down his backpack and your bag alongside his beloved crossbow, you sat down on the bed; feeling a dull ache in your feet. "Ya okay, darlin'?" Of course, Daryl noticed immediately. His senses seemed to be even sharper since you told him about the pregnancy. You nodded. "Sure, Dar. Just some swollen feet." He gave you one of those cute, little smiles you adored so much. "Guess yer in for a foot rub tonight then."
It was the fourth day you spent at the Sanctuary. Daryl tried his best to be around you as much as somehow possible, but unfortunately, there was a lot of work to do for the 'leader'. So, you just decided to stay around him. Luckily, you had a few books packed and you'd always find a comfortable seat - no matter where. You just felt safer when your husband was close, and you could tell that it was much appreciated by him that he could throw a watchful eye on you from time to time.
Daryl wasn't the only one who had his eyes on you, though... Day after day, you could feel the unpleasant stare of that man who already had watched you at the day you set foot here... Justin, like you got to know. He didn't let a single opportunity slip to eye you. It was highly uncomfortable and quite confusing. You didn't know why he was doing what he did. It wasn't like you knew each other. You never even had exchanged a single word! Yet he was always looking... And when you'd catch him, he just gave you a little smirk - what didn't make you feel any better.
After day two, you just accepted it and tried to brush it off and ignore it. You didn't dare to confront the man. If you weren't pregnant, you wouldn't have even give it a second thought and walked straight up to your 'stalker', but... You were pregnant and didn't want to risk anything.
And telling Daryl wasn't an option in your eyes either. He was already so occupied and definitely way more on edge now that he was back at this former hellhole. This wouldn't end well; you knew it.
"You gotta come! Reilly and Mark are fighting. They're yelling at each other like kindergartners!" Daryl scoffed. "Dun care. They can handle their shit alone." The Savior standing opposite you frantically shook his head. "Man, if you don't intervene, this is gonna escalate! They're gonna beat each other up - or worse! You know how they are!" The archer groaned and rolled his eyes. Unfortunately was that idiot right. He couldn't let this escalate, even if he didn't care if it did. He had silently promised Rick to keep this place sane and running, so... "Fine," he finally answered, and turned to you. "Ya gonna find the way alone, sunshine?" You nodded, and placed a hand on his chest with a soft smile. "Of course. Go. I'll be waiting for you in bed. I'm tired." Your husband nodded and gave your hip a soft squeeze; an apologizing look on his face. He didn't want to leave you alone - but knew he had to. Turning on his heel, he followed the Savior and vanished around the corner.
"Dixon!" You flinched at the sudden, unanticipated voice of a man echoing down the corridor you and Daryl just walked through. You were actually on your way back to your room; ready to call it a day. Well, apparently not...
The archer stopped and turned; you both witnessing Dean - a Savior, of course, sprint around the corner. "Dixon!" "Wha'?" Daryl snarled in annoyance. He have had enough of that day. All he wanted was to disappear in that room and not leave it - and you, until tomorrow.
"Hello, Y/N."
You sighed and gazed behind you down the empty corridor, as you felt a flutter within your belly. You smiled; placing a palm underneath your baby bump, which was well hidden since you wore way too big, but comfortable clothes from the day you got here. "I know, munchkin. Daddy's gonna be back soon. Let's go to bed. We could both use some sleep," you talked to your unborn baby quietly; the smile never leaving your lips.
Everything was eerily quiet. Well, no wonder. It was quite late and most of the Saviors were already sleep, you reckoned. Hopefully me too, soon, you thought; pushing down the door handle and opening the door to yours and Daryl's room. You switched on the light - thanks to the generators.
An unknown voice suddenly urged to your ears; causing you to flinch and almost stumble right back out of the room again. You spun around to seek out the origin of the voice; finding the man who had watched you for days sitting on that one chair in the corner of the room with a smirk on his face. You swallowed hard.
"Justin, right?" You tried to sound brave, even though you had a very uneasy feeling brewing within your gut. "What are you doing here? Can I, um, help you?"
Justin's smirk widened. "Oh yes, indeed. You can help me... Close the door, love. I wanna talk." You did what he said and slowly closed the door, but your hand kept gripping the handle - just in case.
"I have never see you before," he started. "Surely we both crossed paths before without knowing - blame it to the war." "Most likely, yeah..." You answered. Justin shook his head and let his eyes wander over your body again. You felt like a piece of meat. "You're a true sight for sore eyes, Y/N... What a shame..." You frowned. "Shame?" The black haired man nodded. "It's a shame you have such low standards and waste your time on a man like Dixon. You are his girl, aren't you?" Your frown deepened at his words; feeling anger bubble up inside you.
Just as you wanted to speak up, the Savior cut you off. "Or... Wait... Are you just his little toy? An occasional fuck? God, how pathetic," he laughed to himself. "What do you get in return? Protection? Food? A shelter? Or are you doing it for free? His dick that good?"
Your jaw almost dropped at the foul words leaving Justin's mouth. He definitely went to far. You've had enough. Nobody threw mud at Daryl like that. Nobody. You were not having it.
"I'm his wife! I-" "His wife?" Justin cut you off once more; laughing. "So this is some serious shit, huh? Wow... Never thought a guy like Dixon could pull such a hot girl like you. You're too good for him, you know," the man said with a dramatic sigh and pulled himself up from the chair. With calculated steps, he crossed the room - and the predatory smirk he wore on his lips, made you feel even more uneasy than you already felt. "You certainly deserve..." Justin licked his lips. "...better."
The Saviors eyes widened, "Fucking hell... He... He knocked you up?" and he laughed. "You're dumber than I thought." Justin shook his head; still smiling amused. "We're witnessing the fucking end of this shit show called life," he gestured around himself. "And you don't know better than get pregnant with that asshole's bastard child."
You swallowed hard and took a step back, feeling your back pressing against the door; grip on the handle still painfully tight. "N-No, I don't. Daryl is more than enough. H-He treats me right." "He treats you right?" Justin asked mockingly, "Aww, how cute." and chuckled. "What if I told you that other men could treat you so much better?" He whispered in a low voice and reached out a hand to cup your chin with his thumb and forefinger.
Your heartbeat quickened; pumping adrenaline through your whole body in fear. Your primal instinct to run already knocked against the door to your brain, but another instinct was stronger just yet... Protecting your baby. So, out of instinct, your free arm wrapped around your baby bump, before you could even stop yourself - and it didn't escape Justin's notice, of course. Your well kept secret suddenly wasn't a secret anymore.
The last sentence was the straw that broke the camel's back. Insulting the husband of an expectant mother wasn't wise. But insulting the child of an expectant mother was suicide.
It was the whistle which sealed your fate.
Before the rational part of your brain could intervene, did your palm already collide with Justin's cheek; slapping him hard.
A soft groan of pain left his lips as he stumbled back. His hand immediately rubbing the now stinging skin. "You bitch!" The Savior exclaimed angrily. "Alright, that's enough." Justin stomped back over to you and already reached out his hand to grasp your wrist, but your instincts kicked in again. This time, they told you to run. So, you did.
Quickly opening the door, you stormed outside and wanted to flee - but you unfortunately didn't get far.
Suddenly another Savior appeared in the corridor ahead of you - and you immediately stopped. Frantically turning around and searching reverently for a way to escape, you soon figured out that there was no way out. One man in front of you, Justin coming up behind you. And in the blink of an eye, you found yourself in the same situation like seconds earlier - just that it was way worse now. Pressed against the wall; trying to shield your unborn child from any possible harm and danger. "P-Please, don't p-please..." You begged for mercy, but it was no use. The men just laughed; having you cornered. "Not so brave anymore, are we?" Justin snickered. Tears stung your eyes. "T-The baby, p-please..." You whispered through tears; feeling your knees buckle and almost give in from underneath you. Silently, you prayed to every God and higher force, that Daryl would walk around the corner now.
He didn't.
"Get her. We're gonna make that asshole pay." It was the last thing you heard, before the other man lashed out. You felt a throbbing pain in your skull and within seconds went everything black.
Grumbling in annoyance, Daryl made his way finally back to yours and his quarters. To solve the stupid, boyish conflict between those two primitive idiots took longer than he thought it would. It got him even more tired than he already was. All the archer wanted was to sleep with you safely in his arms.
However, when he reached your shared room he found the door ajar; causing his heart rate to quicken on an instant. Without wasting even a second, he literally stormed in - only to find the room empty and deafeningly quiet.
"Y/N?!" He called out, but didn't receive an answer. "Y/N?!" In a frenzy of panic, Daryl started to search for you. To his sheer horror, he couldn't find you. Fear and the nagging feeling of guilt and failure already eating away at him. He swore to protect you. You felt safe whenever he was around - and now he had failed you; failed to protect you and his unborn child. Whatever happened to you, Daryl could tell that it wasn't something good. This was the Sanctuary, after all. This hellhole was worse than what laid behind the gates.
Nevertheless, he hoped to find you unscathed, and that all of this was just a big misunderstanding.
Of course... He should've think of that. Jed was - among a few others - a Savior, who didn't quite like how things went down. Negan being defeated... Rick's plan to 'convert' them to be better people... Daryl taking over the Sanctuary... It didn't suit their plans. Daryl knew they hated it - and they hated him. So, why wouldn't Jed - or hence, any of them, do something to get at him? And what was the best way to inflict pain to somebody? Exactly. By hurting someone the person loves.
Life didn't treat the archer kind - of course. You were nowhere to be found. Not in the kitchens, the sanitary rooms, nor the common room; his next destination being the gardens.
"Daryl?" A female voice suddenly urged to his ears - not yours, though. So, he simply ignored it. "Daryl?" Laura stepped into his view. She was on watch and saw her visibly distraught 'leader'. "What the hell is wrong? You run around like a mad man. What are you looking for?"
The archer froze in his movements for a moment; breathing labored. "Y/N. Can't find 'er. Somethin' happened to 'er. Someone took 'er. I'm sure 'a it," he spoke in a low, deep voice. Threateningly. "Ya know somethin' I should know?" Eyes full of a anger were staring the Savior woman down. And Laura knew that this wasn't a version of Daryl you wanted to get yourself into a fight with.
"Not really, no, but..." She frowned; seemed to recall something in her memory. "I saw Jed hanging around in the hallway of your room this afternoon." The archer clenched his jaw.
He shouldn't have let you accompany him.
"Daryl?" Laura's voice ripped him out of his thoughts. The archer wanted to answer, but all he saw was red. He stormed off; driven by anger, fear and the urge to protect what was his - the most important one of the few good things in his life.
Without any unnecessary detours, Daryl went straight for Jed's room. Not even blinking, he barged through the door; slamming it shut behind him and causing the Savior, who was just about to get changed for the night to flinch badly. Jed spun around; his eyes landing on Daryl. "What the hell, Dixon?!" He complained; not noticing the hands of the archer, which were curled into fists, nor the rage in his blue-grey eyes. "Fuck off! This isn't your-" Before Jed was even able to finish his sentence, had Daryl already crossed the distance with three big steps and grabbed the Savior by the lapels of his shirt; pinning him against the wall. Sure, Jed was strong - but not as strong as the bulky archer. Plus, the momentum was clearly on Daryl's side, since he had caught him by surprise.
Daryl growled lowly in his throat. It wasn't a warning. It was a threat.
"What-" "Shut yer damn mouth 'n tell me where she is," Daryl growled; accentuating his words with pushing Jed a little harder and caging him entirely between the wall and his broad frame.
The man scoffed and pawed - in vain - at Daryl's bare forearms and the bulging veins and muscles located there; trying to free himself. "What the fuck are you talking about, Dixon?!"
"Ya ain't fuckin' with me, asshole. Ya know exactly what 'm talkin' about." His grip on Jed's shirt lapels tightened. "Where is my wife," Daryl punctuated every single word. The Savior glared into the archer's eyes for a moment, before he scoffed once again. "I have absolutely no clue where your little whore is! Perhaps she ran off and found a better dick than your-" Daryl had enough of the bullshit Jed was giving him. Without even letting him finish his sentence, Daryl pulled him away from the wall and threw him harshly to the hard ground. "Dun'cha dare talk about Y/N like tha'." His voice was deep and quiet, but not lacking with danger. "And now tell me where she is." "I told you, I don't know!" Jed tried to defend himself further, but Daryl knew he lied. He could feel it.
"A'right. Then we gonna do this the hard way," Daryl stated and lunged at Jed; fists connecting with the man's jaw and stomach. Jed fought back, of course, landing a few blows himself. Their bodies hit the floor multiple times. Blood flew, bones cracked and furniture got destroyed and wrecked as both men were fighting for the upper hand. In the end, though, had Daryl clear advantage over Jed. He was the more skilled and stronger fighter, and had the Savior snugly wrapped up in a chokehold. "'M gonna find 'er anyways," Daryl grunted; panting and being out of breath. "'N I dun care 'bout how many of yer assholes I gotta go through. I'll kill every damn one of ya if tha's what's it gonna take," he snarled and tightened his deathly grip around Jed's neck; his biceps bulging. "So, do yerself a damn favor 'n tell me where the hell she is!" "Fuck you!" was all Jed answered. The archer growled once again and squeezed, which caused the man to gasp and flail; helplessly trying to escape.
Only when Jed was on the verge of passing out, did he decide to finally cooperate. "Alright, alright!" He spluttered and choked. "I'm gonna tell you!" Daryl loosened his grip, and Jed frantically gasped for air. "S-She... She's in one... one of t-the cells..." The man coughed; still trying to get air back into his lungs.
The Savior didn't have to say more. Daryl knew what - or well, where he meant. "Try anythin' stupid, I'll kill ya," the crossbow-wielding archer warned Jed and gave him last death glare, before he left him on the floor in his room with bruises already forming on his neck.
This ain't 'bout me, damnit, he reminded himself. I gotta keep my wife 'n baby safe.
A lump formed in Daryl's throat as he made his way to the 'cells'. An area he thought he'd never ever in his life set foot in again. Being back at the Sanctuary was bad enough, but the mere thought of going there was even worse. It caused his stomach to flip. He could've thrown up all over the floor if he had let himself...
It still looked the same like back when he was imprisoned. The same way too squeaky clean floors. The same doors leading into the same rooms. The only difference was the infirmary, which had been moved to another part of the other building. But except that... Everything was the same. Daryl had to take a deep breath and close his eyes for a moment to keep his shit together and save himself from an approaching panic attack. His labored breath, shaky hands and the forming sweat on his skin a clear indicator.
"Y/N?" Daryl whisper-shouted; hoping to be close to you and receive an answer. He didn't. The archer had to go a little further to find you, and now that he was standing in front of one particular room with his heart almost breaking free of his ribcage; getting to know that it was locked as he twisted the door knob, realization dawned on him. Of course they'd lock her up here, Daryl thought as he eyed the way too familiar door. That was a part of the sick game they played.
With another deep breath, Daryl fought against the traumatic thoughts which wanted to push themselves to the forefront of his brain and shoved them aside; locking them away and focusing on you.
Precautionary, he freed his knife from its sheath and sneaked down the corridors; checking every room. After all, he didn't know who or what awaited him. Storming into this blindly wasn't probably the best idea, since he was convinced that Jed didn't do this alone.
Clenching his jaw, he had to fight another panic attack; even going as far to cut himself with the knife in his shaking hand, in the hopes that the pain would redirect the attention of his brain. A small grunt of pain escaped his lips as the red liquid dripped down his arm.
"H-Hello?"
His desperate action got interrupted by a soft, weak voice coming from the other side of the door; causing the archer's knife to clatter to the floor and a relieved, shaky breath to leave his throat.
"Y/N?!"
The answer came promptly.
"O-Oh my gosh, D-Daryl! I-It's locked, a-and I can't move, I-" "I know, sunshine, I know. Dun worry, 'kay? 'M goin' to get ya," he cut you off with the intention to calm you down. Taking a few steps back, he let the anger and rage take over his system once again and stormed forwards. The door might have been locked, but it definitely wasn't the same door like ten years ago. It had aged and got less stable, so when the archer's strong, bulky frame connected with the door, the lock gave in and the door busted open. Sure, it took him three tries and most likely cost him a bruised shoulder, but Daryl couldn't care less.
"C'mon. Let's getcha outta here 'n see a doctor. I ain't takin' any risks." Your husband shifted and gently slid an arm under your knees and around your back. "Hold on to me." You wrapped an arm around his neck, but shook your head. "Y-You don't have to do this, Dar. I can walk." "Nah," he stated, "I'm gonna do this. Yer hurt 'n pregnant." and lifted you carefully up to carry you bridal style. You didn't protest further. Why should you? He got a point after all...
The bright light from the corridor flooded the dark room and helping him to get a better look at you. You sat in the corner on the cold floor of the dark room. Your wrists and ankles were tied together with a thick rope - way too tight as he noticed, since he could see the material already cutting into your delicate skin. Tried blood was on the right side of your head.
Daryl's heart shattered into a million pieces, seeing you like this. Fear and concern coursed through his veins. "Y/N..." he whispered in a hoarse, broken voice and immediately dropped to his knees beside you, quickly freeing you off the too tight ropes, before one hand gently cupped your cheek, while the other found its way to your growing baby bump. "Ya both okay?! Ya hurt?! In pain?!" Tears of sheer relief gathered in your eyes; threatening to fall as you felt the gentle, loving touch of your husband and knowing that he was here with you. That he saved you.
"I-I'm okay... W-We are okay. Thanks to you," you breathed; smiling as tears rolled down your cheeks. It's been probably only hours since you lastly saw Daryl, but what had happened happened. The shock was profound.
The archer's eyes scanned your body thoroughly for any visible injuries. "Wha' 'bout yer head, sunshine?" "N-Nothing that can't be fixed," you stated and gazed deeply into his worried, loving eyes. "I'm s-so glad you found me. I-I was so afraid..." Daryl lowered his head to rest his forehead against yours. Your hands slipped behind his neck; tangling a few chestnut brown strands through your fingers. "Yeah, me too." Daryl's eyes fluttered shut, before his lips caught yours in a lingering, desperate kiss.
"Just Jed 'n Justin?" You nodded against his shoulder. "Justin waited for me in o-our room. He insulted you. S-Said I deserve better a-and..." You trailed off; feeling tears blurry your vision once again - but this time, it wasn't happy tears. "Ya dun have ta tell me, darlin'. Dun wanna pressure ya into talkin' 'a me." You swallowed hard and buried your face further in his shoulder and neck; "I-I want to tell you." inhaling deeply. Daryl's natural scent, mixed with leather and smoke filled your airways and - like always - had that soothing effect on you. "I-I think he was only a hairsbreadth away f-from raping me, but-" "Wha'?!" Daryl instantly cut you off. Every single muscle in his body tensed as he came to an abrupt halt. You could tell. "He didn't, Dar. I-I slapped him a-and tried to flee, but then there was J-Jed."
"Which one of those assholes did tha' to ya? Jed 'n who else?" Daryl asked in a drop-dead serious voice as he slowly made his way with you down the corridor. You swallowed hard; having to recall the horrible memory. "J-Justin."
Justin. One word - one name was enough to get Daryl's blood to a boiling point once again. He and that prick didn't get along from the very start - and this wasn't the first time the archer and Justin got in each other's ways... There had been a lot of situations where either of them was only a second away from beating the other up. Justin was - like Jed - one of those assholes who wanted Negan back. A Savior through and through.
The clattering sound of - most likely dishes urged to yours and Daryl's ears and managed to quickly redirect both your attention.
"'M gonna kill that sonofabitch," Daryl growled lowly under his breath, but you understood him anyway, of course. "Baby-" "Nah. Ya ain't gonna talk me outta this, Y/N," your husband stated firmly, while opening the main door to the building and stepped outside. Meanwhile, the sun had risen; fresh, crispy morning air hitting your bare arms.
"He's going to pay for tha'. He put you 'n our baby into danger. I ain't havin' tha'." "I know, babe, and you're right. He... He has to pay. But Rick's gonna-" "I dun care 'bout wha' Rick's gonna say. This ain't 'bout him. This' 'bout my family. We both know tha' he'd do the same in the end 'n-"
Justin stood a few feet away across from you and Daryl on the yard. What you had heard was indeed dishes breaking; the shards and content laying on the ground in front of the man. It looked like he had been just on his way to bring you some 'breakfast'. But now, the Savior stood frozen to the ground; eyes directed on you and Daryl. Your husband held his gaze, of course, and if looks could kill, Justin would've been dead already. You felt your archer's muscles tense once again, before he gently let you down. "Sit, 'kay? 'N stay there, please," he whispered and jutted his chin at a wooden bench. You did what he said and slowly walked backwards over to sit down; eyes never leaving both men.
The tension was literally cuttable with a knife as Justin and Daryl stared each other down. The archer out of pure hate and the Savior still in shock and in realization at failure of his plan. You knew this was going to escalate. Two 'alpha males' with completely different, but strong intentions.
Daryl knew it, too. It would've escalated someday anyway. For him, it was just sooner than later.
"Fuck," cursed Justin out loud then; awoken from his rigidity - and instantly started to run. Daryl wasn't having this, of course, and sprinted right after Justin. "Fuck, indeed..." You muttered to yourself; feeling your heart rate picking up. You had to fear for your life and the life of your unborn child for hours and now you had to fear for the life of your husband. Mental stress was your current program as it seemed - something not just you felt... You could feel some movement inside your baby bump. "I know, I know... I'm sorry, munchkin... I just hope your daddy knows what he's getting himself into..." Your palm cradled your protruding stomach in an attempt to soothe your antsy 'roommate'.
Meanwhile had Daryl caught up to Justin and tackled him to the concrete ground - where they still were. Fists connected with several body parts; each of them trying to gain the upper hand. Justin was definitely stronger than Jed. The archer had a hard time taking him down and couldn't do so without taking several hits and punches himself. However kept him the anger and adrenaline going, and gave him the strength he needed.
Somehow, they had made their way back to you. You gasped as both men entered your field of view again - just in time to witness Justin's fist colliding with Daryl's jaw, who let out a grunt of pain. Your eyes widened and you were instantly on your feet; breath hitching in your throat. "Daryl!" He had turned his back to you; spitting out some blood and blindly reaching out his arm to signal you to stay where you are. "Nah, stay back! I got it!" He yelled and violently shoved Justin away, as he wanted to deliver another blow.
You took a step back again, but didn't sit down; face full of concern. You wouldn't let him die. That much was certain. You'd intervene before that happened. How, was the part you hadn't figured out just yet...
The fight went on - without mercy. Daryl, you and Justin knew that only one would walk out alive. Neither the archer, nor the Savior intended to stop. Sure, you could stop it, but how were you supposed to do that?
The sound of a cracking bone almost send you into another frenzy - until you saw that it wasn't a bone of your husband's body. It was Justin's. His nose, to be precisely. The man winced in pain; crimson red blood already tripping down his nose and onto his shirt and the ground. Justin was clearly in a daze; stumbling a few steps back. This didn't slip Daryl's notice, of course. He knew that this was the moment. He had to grasp this chance and use it, before it was too late. The archer was well aware that he was hurt, too and didn't know how much longer he was able to hold on. So, without thinking twice, Daryl reached for the other knife in the sheath attached to his rugged jeans, freed the blade, spun around - and slit the Savior's throat in his movement. Your eyes widened to the size of plates; watching the man splutter and helplessly trying to put pressure on the wound, but it was in vain.
The clatter of a knife caused you to avert your eyes and look at your husband, who had sunk to his knees only a few feet away from Justin's now dead body; panting heavily. Your heart immediately screamed at you to look after the man you loved. Not wasting a second, you ran over to the archer; crouching down beside him.
"Daryl?" You cupped his cheeks and gently lifted his head to make him look at you. "Baby?" Heavy, clouded blue eyes gazed into yours. "You okay?" He nodded meekly. A breath of relief left your lips, although you could already see the bruises forming on his face and the dried blood on his lips and chin. Your thumbs caressed the rough, stubbly skin beneath them, before you gently pulled him closer and rested your forehead against his. Daryl sighed; his bloody hands gripping your wrists. "Y/N, 'm sorry, I-"
The bubble you and Daryl had been in bursted. You lifted your head; only now noticing Rick and a lot of other people standing around you. Mostly Saviors. Swallowing hard, you stood up; holding onto Daryl and helping him up as well. "Rick-" You started, but the leader of Alexandria interrupted you; shock, disappointment and anger clearly visible on his face. "You killed 'im? You killed Justin? Why?" You wanted to speak up again, but Daryl leapfrogged you. "'Cause he was a damn asshole, tha's why!" "Daryl, that's not-" "He kidnapped Y/N, Rick! He hurt her! He wanted to rape 'er 'n do god knows what to 'er!" Your husband yelled at his brother. "Wake up, man. We can't change them, Rick. They are wha' they chose ta be... 'N I ain't no longer puttin' my family on risk for this bullshit," Daryl stated firmly and wrapped his arm around your waist; anchoring you to him. "Let's getcha outta here, sunshine."
He didn't get any further. Another voice cut suddenly through the air. Familiar, but unexpected.
"What the hell is goin' on here?"
Rick was way too stunned to speak; could only watch as his best friend guided you across the yard.
Slowly, you slid closer and placed a hand cautiously on his bare back. "D-" "I failed ya." You couldn't even utter his name, before the words spilled from his lips. "I failed ya 'n our kid. Swore ta always protect ya 'n now look wha' happened..." You sighed. Of course... He blamed himself for this. You should've seen it coming. "Dar..." You spoke up again in a hushed voice; sliding even closer to him. One hand found its way around his waist, the other still resting on his upper back. "This wasn't your fault. Please stop blaming yourself. It was Jed and Justin's doing. Not yours," you tried to soothe his raging thoughts of guilt and littered his shoulder blade with tiny kisses.
A few hours, a visit at the infirmary and a shower later, you sat in yours and Daryl's room - still in the Sanctuary; trying to process what happened.
Only the mattress dipping beside you managed to rip you out of your thoughts. Daryl, who had just taken a shower as well sat down on the edge of the bed; muscles tensed and without saying a single word. He hadn't said a lot anyways since the incident. Sure, the archer had never been a man of words, but... You could tell that something was still bothering him.
You, though, stayed awake and watched him sleep with a soft smile on your face; fingers carding through his soft, still damp hair. "I just hope you reconciled with your brother, Mr. Dixon. You both need each other and you damn well know it."
Daryl shook his head. "Nah. 'S my fault, Y/N. Should've protected both 'a ya better." "You are protecting us the best you can, Daryl," you stated firmly; shifting once again to sit beside him. "You risked your life more than once for me. And you did what was right yesterday evening. You did what you had to do. You acted like a leader should act." "But-" "Nu.Uh. No buts," you cut him off and gently placed your lips in on his to keep him from speaking; entangling them in a sweet kiss. "We're right here, okay?" You prompted; taking one of his hands and placing it on your baby bump, while you intertwined the other with yours. "We're right here and we are completely fine." Troubled eyes gazed into yours; his touch never ceasing. "'M sorry," Daryl whispered; voice quivering.
"C'mere." You laid back on the bed and gently tucked at his hand; inviting him to join you. He immediately obliged and melted against your body with his head resting on your chest, while he was holding onto you for dear life. "That's it, baby... Relax. Deep breaths." Your husband followed your words, and found himself drifting off into dreamland at some point. He was just way too exhausted and unable to resist your soothing, comforting touch.
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Sorry for leaving this in your inbox, but I need to vent and ask for advice in a place where people won't mock me. What do you do when sex is super difficult because of your fat? I've recently gotten into my first relationship and. I thought I had a handle on my internalized fatphobia and self hate but this has made it worse than ever. We can't have satisfying penetrative sex (we've tried all the tips and workarounds. Nothing works. I'm larger than most of the FA community.), and recieving oral sex is also difficult for me. I also get tired and sweaty extremely quickly if I have to like hold up myself on mostly my arms or something, so he has to do most of the work. So sex is just. Mostly the one that works on repeat, and we don't have it very often because it isn't that fun for either of us, and it also makes me cry afterwards sometimes because of how disappointing it is & me beating myself up over it.
I'm genuinely worried my boyfriend is going to leave me for this. He's clearly very frustrated with the situation, even though he tries to be nice about it most of the time. Earlier today I tried to like be flirty and hint at stuff and he just. got a bit sad. and then said that clearly neither of us enjoy the sex we're having and that he has a lot of trouble staying hard.and that he doesn't see the point when we're both forcing it for no reason. I think he's going to break up with me soon. His ex is way lighter than me, so he's probably comparing the normal sex he had with her with whatever the fuck this abnormal shitshow is :/
All the work I've done on myself to be happy with being fat (including working up the courage to date, what a mistake that was lmao) is all gone. This has ruined my self-esteem so much. I feel like one of those fatphobic jokes but a person.
first and foremost, please try your best to remember this: your body is not the problem. one more time. your body is not the problem. I'm so very sorry you're concerned that your boyfriend would leave you over this. it sounds like he has a lot of preconceived ideas about how sex is supposed to go. I promise you that it doesn't have to be this way. if this is something that could really end the relationship, know that this person is not compatible or open to exploring your needs, rather than your needs being "too difficult." I promise it's him, not you. I know folks who are 600+ pounds who have excellent sex lives and partners who satisfy them and enjoy satisfying them. when someone starts treating your pleasure like a chore, that's just shitty. I know how much it hurts. it also does damage to your own openness to pleasure. when you're caught up in feeling like sex/your body is something that needs to be "fixed," nothing is going to feel sexy, because all that pressure puts stress on and takes you out of the mental state where you're able to experience pleasure. does that make sense? so many couples get stuck in this cycle.
there are so many ways to engage in pleasure without penetration or orgasm. there's a lot that goes into foreplay, setting a mood, making your partner feel appreciated and attractive. words and touch play a huge part in this. something as simple as exploring each other's bodies, not with the intention of reaching climax, but simply to be vulnerable and engage each others' senses. have your partner give you a massage. play with your hair. tickle your back with a feather. shower together. kiss you. compliment you. if either of you are into any kinks or dirty talk, that could be a great way to engage each other sexually without the pressure of "achieving" a goal. the goal here is just to feel good, close, and connected. societal messaging about sex has placed so much importance on orgasm instead of pleasure - when taking the time and space to relax and receive attention, is key.
feel free to check out my other posts on fat sex ed, there's lots of assistive toys that can make pleasure more accessible, but I think that should be a tool for later, since the biggest issue here is the pressure to perform. know that pleasurable sex can exist for you! but for now, I would recommend taking a break from sex altogether since it is not pleasurable for you right now. because pleasure is the whole point. forcing it is only going to feel worse. you do not owe it to your boyfriend, especially if it doesn't feel good and is taking an emotional toll. I hope you both are able to take a step back, reassess and communicate, and are able to reconnect and create a safe space to explore.
I understand why you're beating yourself up over this, I've been there too. but also know that it's just another societal standard that's been internalized (and it doesn't sound like your boyfriend is helping). like you said, you've done a lot to unlearn fatphobia. there's a lot of internalized beliefs we absorb from society surrounding sex, just like body image. I promise that there is nothing wrong with you. If your boyfriend takes his frustration out on you instead of making you feel safe to express your needs, then he's not a supportive partner. you deserve someone who takes delight in your pleasure and your body. believe me, we're out there.
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YES THANK YOU!! ALL OF THIS!
i also want to add on the fact that kant is in such a hard spot bc being put in this mission has made him bring down his guards abt commitment and i have a really big suspicion that he falls easily if he did let himself go further than just ons.
now he’s falling in love with bison despite his hesitance abt love and he’s stuck in this protect babe or let himself fall for bison dilemma and it’s so unfair to him cause they are kinda a package deal at the moment.
he feels like he can’t win in this situation so the only choice is for him to complete the mission and move on but it’s just so hard for him to do that and we will definitely see it next episode how deeply he’s actually fallen for bison despite his greatest attempts not to
it is absolutely true what you said abt ppl being deceived by the story having an unreliable narrator. you can see everyone’s actions and motives so simply except for kant’s making the ppl that have already written him off as some manipulative douchey player from the moment they saw him feel validated in brushing aside all his meaningful qualities to continue to label him this master of deception with no remorse for it.
it’s so tiring to see this constant mischaracterization of him and having to explain every little expression he makes when it’s honestly pretty simple to understand if you put down the pre-determined notion of want he is and who he is that these ppl have been clinging onto for dear life.
they will take the most insignificant things to be mad abt and pick apart but then ignore all the moments that explain why he’s acting like that and why he wears a mask so much and hides himself away.
they never see him as the orphaned older brother of a minor that turned into a parental guardian over night who took the role immediately who probably had very little time to grieve his parents death if any at all, someone who was at such a rock bottom that he needed to turn to thievery in order to provide and give as much as he can to his brother so he won’t have to go down the same path that he had to, someone who cares abt ppl despite their bad actions towards him and still cares to go out of his way to be sure they don’t get hurt when he had no obligation to give a fuck abt his stalker ex one night stand that literally sexually harrassed him, someone so selfless that he doesn’t even know how to be himself anymore and choose himself and can’t do it bc he basically has a son to worry abt.
i just don’t get it. how does anyone hate him? esp the ppl that love every other character but him. it makes no sense
you know, i think the reason people fall into the 'kant doesn't care about bison at all, none of what he's doing or saying is real' thing so easily is because he's so good at compartmentalising. it's one of the most consistent parts of his character. we get shown in damn near every single scene he's in: kant constantly sets his own feelings/opinions/wants aside in favour of getting done whatever it is he needs to get done. and if you aren't paying attention it gives off the impression that he doesn't care, but that isn't the truth at all.
i know i talk about kant's role as a big brother a lot, but i genuinely believe that's where it stems from. from the moment his parents died, he had to tuck his own grief away in favour of tending to babe's needs, both emotional and physical. and in ep 6 babe refers to kant as the one who raised him, so babe really must have been quite young when their parents passed - young enough that kant is the one he considers to have raised him, not them. and i know i already talked about it in this post but it's worth reiterating that that wouldn't have come without sacrifice for kant. from context clues it seems as though he went from a student just like any other to basically a single father to a young, grieving child overnight. and kant loves babe. he clearly prioritises his wellbeing - in every sense - above his own. and that means kant's own feelings and wants and desires and even his needs getting thrown aside over and over and over again in favour of babe's. this is a pattern that must have gone on for years atp. kant probably no longer knows any other way to be: he always becomes what other people need him to be. who he is and how he feels get smothered in favour of that every time. and please understand that him doing that isn't an act of manipulation, but likely started as him adapting to the circumstances he found himself in as a teenager and became so ingrained in who he is that he doesn't even realise he's doing it anymore. (besides you can see when kant is manipulating someone. it's completely different. he's not great at it.)
because i mean really, do you honestly think kant was never scared going out stealing cars? do you think he wasn't petrified when he was caught? do you think he never wished for something else for his brother, for himself? do you think he never walked through the streets at night looking for cars to steal, wishing he could just go home? wanting his mum and dad? wanting to someone to take care of him for once?
of course he did. of course he was scared. of course he was upset. he's not a sociopath, nor is he some kind of professional criminal. he's just a guy who's been doing whatever he has to to get by, and sometimes that meant doing bad things, but he still has feelings and wants and wishes beyond that.
but the thing is, as it always has been, is that above kant's wants or needs or feelings sits babe. babe's wants and needs and feelings. his wishes. his dreams. and so kant pushes his own feelings to the side so that he could do what he needed to do - first out of necessity, then because he had no choice. but that doesn't mean those feelings aren't still there. it doesn't mean he doesn't still feel them.
but what place is there for kant's feelings? what use are they? babe needs feeding. he needs education. he needs school uniforms and books and new shoes. he needs someone there, on the outside. kant is of no use to babe in a prison cell. so what good does kant's fear do? where do his desire and his wants and his feelings get him? nowhere. dreams don't put food on the table. so he tucks them away, time and time again. he's scared, but he gets on with it because there's no other option. he wants, but he has babe to think about, so what use is it wanting anything? wanting to go somewhere, to do something, to be with someone - what's the point when he can't have any of it. he has a child to take care of, and that child's needs must always come first. that's the sacrifice any good parental figure must always make. so that's what kant has done. he's spent half of his life pushing his feelings away in favour of making sure babe is good.
why, then, would love be any different?
style can love fadel. he can want him, and he can voice it, and he can show it, because style doesn't have to think about anyone other than himself. there's no one relying on him, not the way babe relies on kant. and so if he acts stupid and reckless and falls in love with an assassin, the consequences of that will be his and his alone to deal with.
kant doesn't have that luxury - the luxury of loving bison. he never has. he has babe to think about. and on top of that, kant can't allow himself to want anything because to him, wanting is useless. it's pointless. he never gets to have what he wants. and he especially can't allow himself to want bison, not when bison is literally his get out of jail free card. kant can't go to prison because he has to look after babe. and it's the same pattern all over again: babe comes first. what kant actually wants doesn't matter.
so he locks it away. he compartmentalises it. we've seen it over and over and over: he gets angry at christ and he swallows it because he can't afford to made him mad. he gets scared and he grits his teeth and smiles. he starts to feel something real for bison, starts to see him as something other than his ticket to freedom, and in the next breath he's reminding himself (or style) that he can't. that they just need to get the job done, asap. if the captain just arrests them, then it'll be over and kant will be free and he can tuck those feelings and those wants back in their fucking boxes and he can move on. over and over and over you see him trying to convince himself of that, because that's probably what has worked before: just one more car, just one more job, just one more time.
but the problem is it's not that simple. being in such close proximity to bison and pretending to love him has shaken the walls he's put up around himself, and they've started to crumble from the foundation up. the feelings that were supposed to be fake, that were supposed to be kept on the outside of the wall have started leaking in to where the real kant is. his walls haven't fallen down, not yet, but they've been breached. and now he's knee deep in these feelings that he shouldn't be having. now, no matter how hard he tries to resist it, he wants.
i think that's what makes the scene in the bowling alley so heartbreaking for me. when i saw the preview i thought that kant was doing it for bison's benefit, to make sure he has one last good night before he's locked away. which he definitely was. but i also think for the first time in the whole show we really get to see kant - no games, no agendas, no angles. even their first meeting wasn't entirely innocent like that - kant was putting on a persona to get bison into bed. but in that bowling alley, when they're all alone and no one's looking and there's a very real chance they'll never see each other again, kant just lets himself be. he lets bison see him, even the ugly parts, the parts that have him breaking into places and cutting off the cctv and stealing from the drinks fridge. because bison told him, didn't he? that he loves every story on his body, even the fucked up ones? so in that bowling alley kant is no longer trying to be some perfect version of himself, the one with no history or flaws, the one trying so desperately to win bison over. he's not trying to be christ's informant. he's not even trying to be babe's big brother for once. he lets himself just be kant.
kant, who wants to be alone with bison in the place where they first met. kant, who laughs so hard his body can't even hold him up. kant, who sets up a fucking projector to project the northern lights all over the walls because he saw the pictures on bison's wall and knew how much he loved them. bison never told him that. but kant is thoughtful, and kant pays attention, and kant is romantic, and none of it is an act. all of it is him, loving bison despite himself. wanting him to be happy. wanting to give and give and give because that's how kant loves: by giving until there's nothing left of him. by putting himself second and the person he loves first. it's what he did for babe, isn't it?
and it's the real kant who, for just a moment, lets himself be reckless and stupid like style gets to be, like kant never gets to be, when he looks down at bison's face and says should we just get in the car and run? and means it. he poses it like a joke, but he means it. he wants it. and it's the real kant who sits in the middle of a bowling lane and plans a trip with bison, who lets himself truly want something for the first time since he was a child, probably: 15 days, kant will drive, bison will run the playlist. they'll see the northern lights and the puffins and the waterfalls. and maybe it's the freedom of knowing he'll never get to have it that makes it so much easier to allow himself to want it, but isn't that so much worse? knowing the only way he's allowed to want anything is if there's guardrails up, keeping him in line? stopping him from making the mistake of actually thinking he ever gets to have what he wants?
none of that scene was an act. none of it. in fact imo the only person he actually puts a front up with in ep 6 was style, trying to convince him to just let them go. that it doesn't matter. bc that was all bullshit and he knew it. and you can think what you want about kant's actions and his feelings up until now, but if after watching episode 6 you still genuinely don't see that kant is head over heels for bison, then you're either not paying close enough attention, or you've let your bias/dislike of his character cloud your ability to be objective about what you're seeing, and i mean that. he is so obvious.
just because kant isn't expressing his conflict or his discomfort or his feelings the way style is doesn't mean he doesn't feel any of it. he does. his words are lies. we've already established that about him. but his conflict and his love are written all over him, all over his face, all over in his actions. the love he feels for bison is delicate and it's fragile but it's undeniably there. and if you don't see that then i genuinely feel sorry for you because you're not only missing out on half the plot, but you're also missing out on something so genuinely beautiful it makes my bones ache.
#the heart killers#kantbison#thk meta#sorry i kinda just ranted in your quotes#i’m tired#kant is a victim#kant is in such a bad place#i will never get anyone who hates him bc how#how do you sit here and see all the things he is sacrificing for his brother#all the things he did to protect his ex ons who didn’t deserve shit#everything he has went through and is trapped into doing and having so much remorse for#and still sit here calling him a heartless person#acting like he is doing all of this for fun or to get a good fuck#being mad that ppl are calling him a victim#when he is very much a victim of captain chris and he is stuck due to his past criminal actions where he had no idea what else to do#and had no idea it would end up in him being in trapped in this neverending cycle of police corruption where he can’t get out of it unless#he goes to jail and leaves babe behind and that’s one of the last things he wants to do#and now he’s had to break down his own walls abt love to pursue this mission and then he’s going to have to yank that love away himself to#keep his brother safe and so he can have a future that kant himself never got to have#nothing abt this situation is fair to him and the backlash is even more unfair bc i don’t get how ppl can’t see how broken he is#they could never make me hate you kant#sorry i ranted again in the tags but i have a lot to say on this subject#kant pattanawat#fuck captain chris#also it annoys the fuck out of me when ppl think that captain’s actor is so hot that they just literally zone out of the whole scene#saw it so much in reactions and then they just say the most annoying things abt kant bc of it
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Glinda gets what she deserves at the end of Wicked
I don’t necessarily mean this in an all negative light either, Glinda’s ending is bittersweet – sad, but hopeful. But she does not deserve an all out happy ending at the end of the musical.
I don’t know if I’m gonna be crucified for this, but here goes.
Glinda in Act 2 is a key part of a fascist regime. She doesn’t just live in it, she isn’t forced to take part in it and she’s not working as a double agent (like Fiyero). She knows what they are doing to the Animals (which includes separating infants from their mothers and putting them in cages, and making Animals so afraid they literally forget how to speak), she knows and loves people it is hurting and yet she continues to actively promote it.
(I won’t point out the connections to real world situations, but I’m sure you guys can all think of examples and think of how you feel about people who are active participants in helping such regimes.)
We see she knows all this too. We see she excuses it for her ego and the power:
Glinda: Do you think I like to hear them say those awful things about her? I hate it!
Fiyero: Then what are we doing here? Let's go, let's get out of here!
Glinda: We can't leave now, not when people are looking to us to raise their spirits.
Fiyero: You can't leave, because you can't resist this. And that is the truth.
Glinda: Maybe I can't. Is that so wrong? Who could?
Elphaba: No, of course you never! You're too busy telling everyone how wonderful everything is!
Glinda: I'm a public figure, now. People expect me to...
Elphaba: Lie?
Glinda: Be encouraging!
And if one could possibly argue (weakly) that, given she’s not actually doing any of the regime’s actual violence, just keeping people’s hopes up she’s not as bad as those who are, she gets worse:
Morrible: Well, we'll just flush her out and force her to show herself.
Wizard: But how?
Glinda: Her sister
Morrible: What? What did she say?
Glinda: Use her sister. Spread a rumour. Make her think her sister is in trouble and she will fly to her side... and you'll have her.
Even if one argues that Glinda is somehow not clever enough to realise that they’ll end up killing Nessa, she sure as hell knows it will get Elphaba captured. And there’s no way that Elphaba being captured won’t lead to the execution of her best friend. Yes, she’s heartbroken, yes, she might not have said this when emotions weren’t running high, but it doesn’t make her terrible words less deadly (and bear in mind Elphaba hadn’t even done anything to hurt Glinda! It was Fiyero who chose to go with her).
Glinda only really starts realising what she has done in March of the Witch hunters, when Nessa is dead, Fiyero is tortured and presumed dead and Elphaba has descended into madness – all because of her own action. And, kudos to her, this is when she decides to change, she immediately goes to Elphaba and tries to warn her about the Witch Hunters, apologises and ultimately Elphaba trusts her with the Grimmorie and to continue her legacy (which she immediately does by overthrowing the Wizard). She has started down the track to good but she still has a long way to go.
I am not the first, nor will I be the last to point this out but “Goodness knows the wicked’s lives are lonely, goodness knows the wicked die alone”, sung by Glinda,is clearly not about Elphaba. Elphaba was not wicked, nor did she die alone (literally Dorothy was in the room and metaphorically Glinda supported and loved her). Glinda is singing about herself, Glinda knows she has been wicked, Glinda knows that it is her own actions that have lead to the “death” of her friends.
So what Glinda is left with is a chance to do good. A chance to live up to her name and make up for what she’s done. A chance to use what she’s most talented at, making people like her, to continue the legacy of her best friend. Despite everything, Elphaba does trust her, if she didn’t she wouldn’t have left her with this responsibility.
Glinda: Fellow Ozians, friends, we have been through a frightening time. There will be other times and other things that frighten us. But if you let me, I'd like to try to help. I'd like to try to be... Glinda the Good.
This is why she is going to “try” to be Glinda the Good, because she hasn’t been good yet. She has learnt a lot of very hard lessons through the narrative, been dragged kicking and screaming out of her selfishness, ego and giving into her worst impulses and is grateful for a chance to repent. And honestly, I’m sure she will suceed.
And one last thing:
Elphaba: I only wish...
Fiyero: What?
Elphaba: Glinda could know that we're alive.
Fiyero: She can't know, not if we want to be safe. No one can ever know.
I know a lot of people take ire with this line. But Fiyero, always the best strategist of the group, is right. The last time Glinda was trusted with important information it led to a death and two more people nearly dying. She has not earned that trust yet.
But, remember, Glinda isn’t stupid, Glinda is in a position where she’s going to have to think more and more. Glinda has presumably seen her roommate get wet before, she saw Fiyero’s reaction to the rumour, no matter how much searching happens Fiyero’s body never turns up, how long is it really going to take for her to connect the dots? Sure “Glinda can never know” for sure, but she sure as hell can be comforted by the fact she’s almost certain her best friend did not melt from a bucket of water.
#wicked#wicked meta#Glinda#wicked movie#wicked musical#I feel like Gelphie shippers might be mad#but it's not that I don't like her character#she's a facinating and deep character#she's just a pretty bad person for a lot of the show#but not irredeemable#Fiyero in contrast makes decisions to be on the right side once he has the chance#Fiyeraba works because Fiyero supports Elphaba and cares for the same cause#galinda
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Haven't finished my day one fic but here's my entry for @charles-rowland-week Day 2: Chorb!
I see a lot of cute orb-ghost content and love it, but for some reason when I sat down to write my brain went: that experience must be terrifying on both ends. Especially if it happens when they're pushed to the brink, a circumstance that otherwise leads to ghosts just... dissolving. Especially the first time.
So here's the first time!
***
Charles can't remember how he got here; he hasn't really got any idea where here is, except that the ground he's lying on is too hard and the light is so bright it burns his eyes whenever he opens them.
Though that might actually be something wrong with his eyes, judging by how much the rest of him hurts. He must have pissed someone off real bad, to be in this much pain, but he can't remember who or why. He hopes it was worth it.
"Charles," says a voice, a voice he knows. Edwin's here, and he sounds upset, and like he's trying to hide it. Charles manages to pry his eyes open for half a moment before the searing pain forces them shut again, but in that brief second he gets a glimpse of Edwin-- just his neck and the bottom of his face, the harsh press of his mouth.
Charles has seen that expression before, knows it comes along with wide eyes that give away what might look like frustration otherwise; this is the face Edwin makes when he's terrified.
Edwin shouldn't be terrified. Charles tries to reach for where he thinks he was, to comfort him, but just the idea of moving his arm reminds him of how much his shoulders hurt, and he half-screams before he can swallow the sound.
"Charles, just-- just lie still a moment," Edwin says beyond the roaring of his ears, and it shouldn't be a hard request with how much moving hurts, but Charles doesn't think he can bear to lie here like this much longer, the ground digging into him and the pain burning through his bones.
There's something wrong about that. Charles shouldn't be able to feel the ground, however hard it is; he doesn't actually have bones to burn.
He's dead, but he's still hurting, somehow, and that doesn't seem fair, does it? He'd sort of thought he'd escaped it, for a while. Maybe a little pain was the cost of being alive, but now-- unable to feel any good thing-- it just feels cruel.
He's so tired of hurting.
"Charles," Edwin's voice breaks through again, only this time the tone is different, somewhere beyond fear. "Charles, please, don't-- please just stay--"
His voice breaks on the plea. Because he is pleading, which is all kinds of wrong. Edwin doesn't beg when he's terrified; he goes silent and still like a hunted rabbit, which Charles hates with all his being but he hates this too. Edwin shouldn't beg. He shouldn't have to, not with Charles, who has embarked on the afterlife-long project of making him as happy as possible.
Not going anywhere, he tries to say, but his mouth doesn't want to obey him and instead he just sort of groans. He can't move his fingers-- he's not sure he has fingers, right now. They don't hurt anymore, but he can't really feel them either.
He remembers that: losing his fingers first, then his toes, then more and more. Edwin had been there then, too, strange and funny and unbelievably kind, and Charles hadn't had the chance to worry about his toes. Edwin had given him that gift, the gift of not being scared, and then he'd tried to run off like it was nothing, like after all that he'd thought Charles would just leave Edwin to the lingering terror in his eyes when he spoke of Hell.
That terror has never left completely, despite Charles' best efforts. He's started to think it never will, and the thought hurts, but at least he'd thought it was getting better; except now Edwin is terrified, and he's the one begging Charles to stay. He's still talking, somewhere beyond the pain, and though Charles can't make out the words, that heartbreaking tone is still there.
Charles isn't leaving him. He refuses. But he can't bear this either, the pain making it so hard to think, to remember. Edwin's voice is a lifeline, but it's getting more and more difficult to hear it, and he's not sure it's just the ringing anymore.
He's a ghost. He doesn't have ears to ring, not really, or bones to ache or eyes to burn when he opens them. Piece by piece, half on purpose and half unable to hold on, he lets it all slip away, until all that's left is the conviction: whatever happens, he wants to stay.
It feels a little like changing his hair, the way Edwin had taught him, just holding on to what he wants until that's what he is.
Mostly, though, it feels like dying.
***
He knows less and more, like this. He doesn't know where he is, and there's no feeling to help him guess, no pain or light or voice in the ears he doesn't have anymore. He doesn't know how he got here, doesn't know how long he's been here, doesn't even know who he is, really.
But he's not confused, because what he knows is this: he's dead, and it's not fucking fair, because he had so much left to do. He knows he was going to do better, that he was going to fix things, and now he'll never have the chance. Part of him seethes at that, and part of him just wants to take the hint and stop trying.
Except he also knows, somehow, that he does have another chance. That he's still here, even if he can't feel or taste or smell-- or even see or hear. That he can move things, somehow, change them, sometimes even fix them. He can solve crimes and save lives and on very good days he can make Edwin laugh.
He remembers that, the last time he'd made Edwin laugh-- just a little chuckle, really, but helplessly sincere, and the smile had stayed on his lips when he'd said, really, Charles--
The world unfolds around that voice speaking his name, first just memory into sound and then the awareness of ears to hear it, of a head to turn toward it and arms to push himself up, of something soft and forgiving under his palms, and of eyes he can open to see Edwin's face, remarkably close and blinking with surprise that, as Charles watches, collapses into relief.
"You came back," Edwin breathes. From this close, Charles can see the tears well in his eyes. Edwin, who he's seen burn half his hand off without even noticing, is crying over Charles.
It's not really a choice, to reach out with hands that still look a little misty and pull Edwin close. Edwin clutches him back, curling his hands in the back of Charles' shirt and tucking his chin over Charles's shoulder like if he just holds Charles close enough, he can hold him together.
Maybe he can. Charles curls his own fingers into Edwin's coat, breathes deep just to feel his ribs expand into Edwin's grip, ghost-cool but firm and real, real, real.
"I was afraid you were gone," Edwin says.
I was too, Charles doesn't say.
"Told you," he murmurs instead, "you're stuck with me."
#dead boy detectives#charles rowland#dbda#edwin payne#dbda fanfic#charles rowland week#something is bugging me about the structure of this so i might edit a bit before putting it on ao3#and im still learning the boys' character voices#but here it is! my first dbd fic#my writing#god how do people write short pieces this is so hard
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THE RICH MAN’S GUIDE TO CORRUPTION
GIVE IT UP FOR LOVE
warnings… i mean some absolute swine talk, gojo and geto are evil men, you’re a sweet and pure virgin. swearing, mentions of fucking, really just vile pig shit.
synopsis… suguru and satoru have a lovely chat over a warm summers breeze. oh! and sweet, un-expecting, vulnerable you is the topic of discussion.
a word from the creator… idk if i mentioned this but this fic is based loosely off the movie cruel intentions! banger film, check it out. i wrote a lot of this chapter awhile ago so if the writing style switches up next chapter don’t sue me. i’m excited!!!! here’s to the next eleven chapters of hell
series masterlist
Gojo hates the heat. He thinks he's tolerated it before on his father’s yacht or when he did an unnecessary shirtless carwash for extra money he didn't need; but right now with the breeze through the window— that Suguru demanded be open— overbearing the air conditioner, he's absolutely positive that summer is the worst.
“Start of the year’s comin’, yknow.” He typically broke the silence— as if he could ever shut up to begin with— and he was almost always met with a:
“No shit.” strident response. Those seemed to be Suguru’s speciality, and provoking them seemed to be Satoru’s.
It’s too hot. His white hair presses into the drywall, feeling much cooler than the air outside. “I’m not stupid, Suguru. Neither are you, you know what I mean.” It’s an overdramatic sigh— a call for attention— as he turns his head over to look at him.
“They’re gonna ask us about it soon.” And, in some way Suguru can’t really comprehend, Gojo sounds excited.
His manner isn’t necessarily wrong, not so much as it is unexpected. The ‘new year, new fuck’ competition of Azabu was practically famous among the young men certain to attend— the sons of the sons who started it, and all their nephews or cousins or any synonym for a pig of a relative that they could come up with. And, luckily enough, they had the privilege to be top candidates.
The competition was started by the current dean’s uncle, a horny fuck-all type who would take any and all excuse to boost his ego while tearing down a girls— or maybe he really did just want a good lay. But, it grew and grew and grew, and now it was almost ritualistic, a second identity of worthiness in the form of fucking a virgin before anyone else did.
Sure, they were nothing but thrilled for it as high school reached an end, or even the first or second year of university. But now it just seemed dull.
But, traditions are custom, and customs are a necessity. It’s almost become lore throughout their little clique of affluence; whispered stories from childhood turned into real competition after a long wait, especially from a group of people who so rarely have to wait for anything. It’s inspiring, they think, means to associate themselves with a lower class; normalize themselves just a little more.
Alumni share stories at functions, putting the frat in fraternizing, nonchalance on the tips of their tongues. Sometimes the tone almost feels dark, and Suguru thinks if he were a better person he’d feel some type of sympathy for the girls. Any fragment of empathy he had wiped away when he won for the first time, though, wide smirk as his year mates glared at him; memories of the tight, albeit idiotic, girl engrained behind the lids of his eyes.
Even so, it gets old quick. And it’s not like they don’t fuck dumb, stupid, silly girls with nothing to say for the rest of the year anyway. So, he can’t quite figure out what Gojo is all too excited about.
“Well try to make sure your dick doesn’t get hard from the thought, you fucking freak.” There’s a giggle from the other man, a scoff too, and he pushes his hand out at him.
This is crucial. This is who they are together. A pair— whether it’s a pair of awful men or not.
There’s also a sense of trepidation that comes with it, of course. It’s exclusive, more so than they already are, and if you do one thing wrong- speak a little too loud, come off too brash, give a lackluster lie after actually getting caught— you’re out. And whose pride would want that?
“It’s stupid we always gotta wait for them to sit us down, it’s not like we don’t know what’s coming up.” He scoffs, arms crossing over his chest. “Plus, what a fucking weird thing to say to your kid.”
“I mean the whole thing’s odd if you think about it.” Gojo shrugs, hands stuffed in his pockets, forearms bare against the linen of his trousers.
He’s right, of course. Even if neither of them feel guilt for their actions, they can’t ignore the sinking feeling in their stomach when their own fathers sit them down and incite such a twisted view on them.
Be that as it may, it’s not too bad when that’s all they know, and it’s not like either of them are going to complain at a quick orgasm, a nice pair of tits, and that goddamn feeling of triumph.
“Do you think they’ll cry again?” Satoru mocks, brimming with glee as he leans in the direction of his friend. “It’s always funny, dontcha think?”
“As if you’d know,” There’s a smirk despite the aggression in his tone. “Dunno why it matters so much to you, you already got bitches babbling about you all the time.”
Gojo sighs, expression bored and childish and fucking greedy. “Yeah, I know but…” His voice peters out, lost in the room. Elation bubbles back into his features, warming his cheeks and animating his eyes as he looks at Suguru.
“Yknow, I heard the dean has a daughter starting, actually. Real sweet gal, even wrote a whole fucking magazine article about the importance of ‘saving your innocence’” his voice wobbles, eyes rolling as he sneers. “for someone you really love.”
“Sounds like she’s ugly.”
“Thought so, too, but..” He trails off, hand fishing in his back pocket for his phone, pupils dilating at the light on his screen. It doesn’t take him long to find the photo; clearly he’s been sitting on his discovery for awhile, anticipating when he could tell him. “Look.”
Suguru doesn’t like to be wrong, much less will he ever admit it. “Holy shit.” You aren’t necessarily the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, probably not even the prettiest he’s seen in the last month, but you were definitely something.
Maybe it was the curve of your jaw or the tint in your lips, but the photo set something off in him. On the surface he thinks it’s the just barely explicit face you’re making in your mirror, phone in hand as you look into your lens, but really, honestly, if he’s searching deep down— it’s the fact he knows you’re the one girl who wouldn’t just throw herself on him if he so kindly asked.
“Sugu, are you ever bored of this? It feels too easy, right?” Suddenly Gojo’s previous excitement feels misplaced, voice itching for more. “Hardest part about it is finding out who’s actually a virgin or not, and that’s pretty simple with how awkward they get.”
“What are you saying?” Maybe he already knows, maybe he’s hoping for the obvious, but he asks like he doesn’t care. The former moves fast, hand steady on the desk as he leans far too close for comfort. In any other situation, he’d probably be met with a harsh jab to the face, but this feels different— secret.
“Let’s do something, on our own, just you and me.” He almost seems too impatient, pressure digging into the ground from the toes of his shoes and gaze begging. It was the kind of thing that made you want to agree, if nothing else to just feel a fraction of the way he seemed to be. Before Suguru could even consider the idea, test the waters and make Gojo beg a little bit, said boy opened his mouth again.
“I mean, unless you’re not up for it. You don’t really seem like the type to make a girl give it up for love.” He snickers, raising the back of his hand to his forehead as he feigns swooning.
“Geto, I— I love you.” His voice is high, wheezy in his imitation and a little rude. “I think.. I think I’m ready- I want it to be you.” He cuts himself off with his own laugh, hand circling over his mouth to try to stifle himself. “Could you imagine?”
“The fuck does that mean?!”
“Cmon, Suguru, you’re not really the endearing type.” He’s edging him now, tone manipulative and pressing and snarky and Suguru knows— of course he knows, but it can’t help but irk him.
“What are you thinking?” And now Gojo’s beaming again, feet guiding him back across the room to his bag, books stacked neatly inside, lying even against each other. He pulls out a magazine and tosses it to him haphazardly before he reaches back for a notebook and a pen.
“Page 36, read it.” The article is cheesy. It’s too long and feels like something right off a self care Facebook page. Suguru is sure he physically recoiled a couple times reading it; especially when you wrote ‘Virginity is a miracle— the ability to show someone how much you love them in such an intimate way should be saved for someone special.’.
It’s shocking that you’re the daughter of the man who oversees their little sex game.
Suguru thinks you’re vile— embarrassing and pathetic and a huge fucking waste of what seems like a really good pair of blowjob eyes. It makes his skin crawl and he verbally scoffs when he reads your finishing sentence about cherishing your virtues, so focused on the arrogance in your punctuation that he doesn’t even hear Gojo’s laugh.
“Pretentious as shit, right?” He snorts, eyes flickered as he recites the passage in his head. “It’s gonna feel so good to fuck the words right out of her mouth.” Suguru didn’t know what he expected from his friend, but it wasn’t that. It’s clear through, through and through, that he’s dedicated to the idea.
“I mean sure, I guess you’ll have your turn. Maybe she’ll fuck just about anyone after I win.”
“Wait, so you’re in?”
“Whatever.”
“Fuck yeah!” He’s joyful, fist pumping into his chest in a quick celebration before he’s holding up his notebook, standing directly across the floor from the desk.
The wood is dark, deep and marbled, glazed over the top and lined with little symbols of power in the form of trophies. It’s clearly something too nice to serve as a welcome mat, but nonetheless Suguru rests his heels on the surface, ankles crossed over each other as he leans back in his chair. His eyes point to the ceiling to look at anything other than the annoyance in front of him.
“Well clearly we need to set up some rules.” He sneers in his seat when he remembers not looking at him won’t make him shut up.
“Okay well we have the obvious: whoever fucks first wins. And I mean fucks, none of that sloppy anal shit. Doesn’t count.” It’s almost funny, but neither of them acknowledge it. If they do, that’ll come hand in hand with the fact they’re acting just like their fathers.
“She has to be sober.” He didn’t really expect himself to say that, but he did expect Satoru to whine.
Gojo lets it sit in the air for a second before he nods curtly and jots something done.
“Would it be too cocky to say she has to cum?” The journal’s away from his face now and someone could, and probably would, argue that the walls are lucky to see the boyish grin he’s got. His smirk pulls up at the corners of his lips, but Suguru just finds it vexing. Gojo is far too full of himself, he thinks, and he hates to admit there’s good reason.
Nonetheless, he has to give him a little shit. “Do they normally not with you?”
“Hey! That’s not what I meant, asshole.” There’s something sweet to Satoru, under all the sickening that is his personality. It makes people understand just why girls fall for him, and definitely helps him keep a good image to the public.
And there’s something smart to him that makes you feel like he could really pull whatever he wanted off. It makes the idea of competing with just him much more appealing.
“Are we gonna have like a— fuck I don’t know— like a time limit?”
“Fuck is this? A video game?”
“I mean no, but competition wise if it takes us like half a year isn’t that kind of stupid? Because who’s to say she won’t ‘really love you’ by then, and then you’re not making her go against anything, yknow?” And there's also something meticulous about him that makes him aggravating as all hell.
“Fine. A month.”
“Just a month?”
“Yeah, you’re right. Plus, anything longer than that and we’d just be a couple of fucking losers chasing after a bitch.” Suguru knows Gojo is giving him a look without even seeing it, the slightly judgmental and almost kind one he does. “What? You’re the one who said it to begin with.”
“Yeah, okay, whatever. A month.” It’s silent for a second, comfortable with all their years of each other, before he clears his throat.
“That it then?” Maybe they’re the same kind of evil. Maybe they deserve each other.
“One more, actually.” There’s that feeling from him again, the tone that makes Suguru want to agree aimlessly for no fucking reason other than the possible rush. And before he can fester; before his skin can start to crawl and his hands can get clammy just from that sheer desire in his voice, Gojo grins.
“You need proof. And I don’t mean her saying it, because you can bribe anyone into saying anything. Gotta show it, photo or video or something, balls deep or whatever the fuck.” That almost makes Suguru laugh.
“I don’t think she’s gonna go for that one, no matter how good the dick is.”
“She doesn’t have to know.” Now he’s really thrilled. He doesn’t know what it is, but that lights something in him, stirs in his stomach and causes a little quiver in his brow.
“Fuck yeah, man,” he’s really laughing now, pointing at the journal harshly. “write that shit down.”
There’s something unspoken over them now, a deeper bond than they thought they could have. Neither of them would ever admit it, but it feels like they’re those two high schoolers again, counting down til they can become something fucking great. This is the feeling they’re supposed to get from their fathers’ stupid fucking contest. This is actual competition, a chance to actually win.
A new air falls on them, mixed back in with that warm, rich breeze.
“Okay, that settles that then.” Gojo offers, fingers tapping the binding of his book. “She has to be attending the start of the year banquet so that’ll be an excuse to meet her. Everything from then on is up to us.” Suguru always dreaded that shitty event, but now he finds himself doing mental math to count how far away it is.
Even if the whole thing is trivial, and even if you seem like the most uptight thing ever, Suguru is a man of pride. And prideful he’ll be.
“We still gotta do the ‘new year’ thing, you know. They’ll burst a fucking artery if we say we’re not interested.” His voice is gravelly and calm and so not anything he’s feeling, but he thinks Gojo buys it when he chuckles.
“Can you be excommunicated from being a womanizer? Because I think we would be.” They’re almost joking like everything is normal. It’s different, so much different, but they’re acting the same.
“I’m gonna go grab some water and maybe call one of your maids to make lunch, you want anything?” Suguru shakes his head, shifting in his seat as he tries his hardest not to look at the journal Satoru set on the side table.
“Suit yourself, I’ll be back.”
“Whatever,” He waits after Gojo walks out. Waits a good forty five seconds before he stands up, and he crosses the room in about three.
He glances over at the thrown aside notebook, eyes quick as he scans it. The handwriting is adjacent to messy, scattered and the page is littered with semi vulgar doodles and side bars. It’s coherent, though, and even though they both know Gojo had no intention of giving it to him, it’s got his signature at the bottom.
1. Full fucking!! Penis in vagina
2. No signs of being inebriated. Absolutely stone cold sober
3. If it takes longer than a month after everyone is introduced we’re both “a couple of fucking losers” (< Sugu’s words)
4. Orgasms are important ! Or at least near orgasms (she is a virgin)
5. Photo / video proof. If you can’t get it, you aren’t in it (haha! get it?)
He snickers at four, the uneasy tone in the second sentence almost self deprecating. Despite that, he can’t help but feel a smidge of respect that he ended up adding it to begin with.
He grabs the pen from the table, pressing into the paper too hard as he leaves his chicken scratch of a John Hancock. Okay, maybe this will be fun.
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