#and it was a real negotiation to get him to leave it
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it can be hard to imagine an alternative to kinship guardianship, and historically attempts to systematically separate children from their parents en masse are all just tragically horrifically racist and genocidal, but you don't have to go full crèche; you just have to make it really fucking easy AND NORMAL for kids to seek distance from their parents or to seek backup from other adults
like. imagine a world where instead of little kids "running away" because they're mad at their parents (about something that's only unreasonable if you're 5), they instead all learn in school that if they call 888, someone from the Children's Agency* will come pick them up and take them to a sleepaway dorm, no questions asked and no shade on their parents—kids get crazy mad at even reasonable adults sometimes! and they deserve a safe place to cool down! and if they want to go back after, they should get to!
and this continues to be true forever. if the kid wants to leave they just leave. the sleepaway dorm probably isn't the coolest, but if you want to stay longer you tell an agent what stuff you need from your house and they get it for you.
if the need to legally prove neglect or abuse wasn't a factor, if the kid could just fucking walk out for whatever reason whenever they felt like, AND THAT WAS NORMAL, normal enough that kids would coordinate their 888 calls to have sleepovers and the sleepaway dorm was a couple long-stay traumatized kids with a rotating cast of decently well-adjusted kids exerting their independence and a very large cadre of kids in active negotiation with their parents about the terms of their return....
or mix in an alternative: the Cool Uncle Agent. if your parents are doing something you don't like and you're not sure if it's normal, you dial 888 and you invite the Cool Uncle Agent to stay with you and see whether your parents will keep doing the thing you don't like in front of them. or your parents can call the Cool Uncle Agent themselves if they know they're going to have to implement discipline you're not gonna like!
if your parents won't sign your permission slip for sex ed? cool uncle agent. parents too busy to go to your parent-teacher conference? cool uncle agent. parents don't believe in psychiatry and you think you need some? cool uncle agent. parents checked you into a psych ward? cool uncle agent can check you out!
(this isn't, like, one person; it would be whoever was on shift and available. cool uncle agent is 300 people assigned to your age bracket in your city. they probably try to give you the same dozen agents if they can but the priority is having someone available whenever a kid needs, like, a ride to the abortion clinic or whatever, not that they have a deep relationship.)
the crucial thing would be ease, normalcy, and free choice. the cool uncle agent doesn't steal you, you call him as your free normal adult backup who is legally authorized to act in loco parentis. even if your real parents are there being mad about it. the only consequence to your parents is that you do the thing they didn't want you to do. after all, if you wanted to leave, you'd just leave! nobody has to take them to court to prove they're bad parents! nobody has to go to jail!
it would just take a big chunk of the current american military budget, and a complete reshaping of the way we think about the rights of our children.
but i like to dream about that world sometimes.
(frankly that's what i want for adults too. every parent should have to compete with the Government Cheese of guardianship, and every landlord should have to compete with the Government Cheese of housing: basic, decent, impersonal, nothing to write home about, and free.)
*the Children's Agency...it's a pun. get it. because it gives children agency?
sorry i woke up in my rantsona. but like seriously isn't it fucking twisted that every child in almost every country are basically legal property of their parents. like their parents have complete control over where they can go, who they can talk to, which words out of their mouth are truth or lies; they're allowed, encouraged even, to be the sole interface by which the child connects to everything else in this world. like isnt that extraordinary. like how is it a mystery to anyone that children are constantly dying under parental abuse or growing up into utterly dysfunctional traumatised adults. why are we talking about these nebulous narratives of "the unstoppable and nuanced cycle of abuse" instead of looking straight at the reality we've built specifically for this purpose
#think of the children#family abolition#children's agency agents are not here to judge. if the atheists' kid wants to go to church or the liberals' kid wants to go to a trump rally#then cool uncle agent will take them there#'is this a thing some sane parent domewhere might allow a child to do? then I'll operate as that hypothetical parent'#it's not fair that some kids are allowed to get their ears pierced and some aren't. like on a very very basic level#piercings haircuts and hairstyles are the microcosm of every other other problem with childism#like you can see a million places a market economy with drastically different budgets between families is part of the problem#but if you just look at the sheer 'hunan rights' of it all#if an 8 year old has birthday money and wants to spend it on piercing her ears#then the parent can deny her by simply not driving her there#if we accept the premise that it's not safe for 8 year olds to take public transit anymore (questionable)#then kids need a goddamn ride#anyway this is not a robust theory of family abolition but do you see the vision?#dove.txt#long post
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Henry had an entire love affair with this coconut
#it was already split open and had lots of coconut flesh on the inside#he thinks that's even better than chicken hearts#and it was a real negotiation to get him to leave it#henry#sprig#dogs
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Striking of the Clock
BrainDead or DeadTired idea.
During Tim's BruceQuest he uncovers hidden texts/tombs of a being that controls and watches over the Time Stream and Tim knows this being will have to be his best bet of finding Bruce while also trying to figure out on his own how to get Bruce out of the Time Stream as well.
However the being doesn't have a summoning sigil due to being an Ancient.
He does find the sigil for the Ghost King however, a being that borderlines into Ancients power territory and could in theory grant Tim an audience with the Time being if Tim plays his cards right.
In the end, Tim decides it was worth a shot. He convinces Ra's to 'help' him summon the Ghost King. Ra's wanting to see if such a being could be real and to see how far Tim is willing to go to bring Bruce back, allows League resources to be used.
It takes a few weeks, with Tim also making plans to undermine not just the Council of Spiders but Ra's as well, but eventually the time to summon the Ghost King comes.
Tim honestly was expecting the large eldritch like being that showed up, he just wasn't expecting the being to be basically a formed galaxy mixed with ice and the northern lights itself.
He also really wasn't expecting when he negotiated a deal with the Ghost King, and taken into a place called the Infinite Realms when they shook hands (Tam and Prue is also taken with him, he refused to leave them with Ra's), for the being to shrink down and turn into a white haired, green eyed teen around his age who starts flirting at him.
Nor was he expecting for another being, one that apparently is able to shift aging forms, and a grandfather clock in its chest to appear next to the teen and bonk the white haired teen with a staff and tell him to stop flirting with his future new apprentice....
Wait what?
-x-x-
Danny is rarely, very rarely summoned since taking the mantle of Ghost King. Due to being a new Ancient most old sigils that was once connected to Phantom (mostly teens from Amity tired summoning him a couple of times) no longer worked and the only ones that did were the ones he gave to his friends and family or the Ghost King ones (but again rare due to how rare texts/tombs to the Ghost King is written down)
So when he felt the pull of a summoning he made sure to go in his eldritch form, mostly to see if he could scare them or at least intimidate.
Honestly he was expecting the cult, given the fact they summoned a being known as the (freaking) Ghost King, maybe not them being assassins/ninjas but still a cult.
He wasn't expecting the cute, same age as him too, guy in the room.
(CW totally paused time for a second, gave Danny a file on who and why he was summoned, discussed getting Tim Drake out of Ra's hands (and maybe allowing CW to finally have his own future apprentice because Tim is a smarty smart whose been slowly able to figure out the freaking Time Stream itself.), and then started the timeline again)
Danny decided, after striking a deal, that since he's going to be working with Tim, aka Red Robin (who Danny found out used to be Robin! From Gotham), from now on he might as well shoot his shot and flirt with him and-
"OUCH, CW REALLY?!"
"Stop flirting with my new apprentice for now My King, we have work to do."
#danny phantom#danny fenton#crossover#dp x dc#blue rambles#danny phantom dc#writing ideas#random idea#dpxdc#brain dead#dead tired#tim drake#dannyxtim#clockwork#mentioned Tam and Prue#Danny is around Tim's age on his Red Robin run#and has grown to be a bit more confidant since 14 and since being King#Not fully confidant but he knows how to flirt now#Do I headcanon CW taking Tim under his wing to learn/manage the Time Stream#yes#why?#IDK I just like it#Ancients rarely give out their summoning sigils#Danny's is complex due to being both a New Ancient of Space and the Ghost King
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Weeds
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader
Summary: Aemond approaches Rhaenyra's daughter in childhood, always bringing her small daisies that are not flowers, but simple weeds.
WARNING: No age restriction. Mentions of blood, previous injuries and medieval medical procedures. Other than that, just cuteness and sweetness. No reader discretion!
Word cont: 7.500 k
Author's note: This story was the result of a request sent by an anon, it was the first time I received a request and it made me very happy because usually when I make a request to a specific author it is because I like how that person tells the stories from their own point of view, so… thank you. It is not 100% focused only on what is in the request, since I have already read several stories with this same theme, so I decided to adapt and tell it in my own way. I hope you like it! 🥰💕
Ps: Y/n can be the daughter of either Harwin, Laenor or Daemon, you choose!
The day dawned sunny and warm in Kings Landing, bringing many of the nobles out into the courtyards and gardens of the red keep. While the adults whispered gossip and negotiated positions and power, the children simply played and laughed around the Keep.
-I don't know why you like these silly flowers so much. - Jace rolled his eyes as he watched his younger sister braid the freshly picked bouquet of daisies into a flower crown. - They're not even real flowers! I heard the septa say to a girl that they are weeds!
-I like them. - Y/n sighed in a soft voice, shrugging her shoulders without stopping to braid the flowers. - They're delicate and make beautiful crowns!
Jace rolled his eyes and pulled the flower crown from his sister's hands and lifted it slightly in the air so that the younger one couldn't reach it.
-Jace! - The girl scolded, getting up from the floor and brushing the dust off the blue dress she was wearing for the day. - Give it back to me or I'll tell Mom!
-Leave her alone! - Before Jace could answer, Aemond's shy but firm voice sounded through the courtyard, making Y/n smile and go to meet him, forgetting about the flower crown stolen by Jace almost instantly.
-Hi Aemond! - She smiled, tilting her head to the side in a sweet way, making Jace roll his eyes even more deeply.
-I want to see if you have so much courage when training with dragons… - The brunette spoke provocatively and then started laughing. - Oh, I forgot… you don't even have a dragon.
-If you continue to be mean, I'll tell Muña what you and Aegon did yesterday! - The youngest screamed when she saw Aemond's embarrassment, and Jace's eyes widened and he ran away right away, leaving her alone with the older one.
-What did he and Aegon do yesterday? - Aemond asked curiously and the youngest shrugged her shoulders with a confused look.
-I don't know, but Jace probably wouldn't want our mother to know.
Aemond couldn't help but chuckle at the girl's answer, but the smile slowly faded when he saw the sad look on her face when she saw her bouquet of daisies crumpled on the floor.
-Jace ruined them. - She sighed in a sad voice as she played with the crumpled petals on the floor.
-Don't be sad. - The oldest sat next to her. - I'll get some more for you.
-But you said they only grew in the south of forest! - She sighed even more sadly. - You can't go there alone and there won't be another hunt for another 2 moons!
-I'll find a way to get them for you. - Aemond shrugged as he subtly brushed his fingers against hers, who didn't really believe him, but was happy that he cared so much.
-Aem? - Her sweet voice called him moments later as she looked at the sunny blue sky, full of white clouds.
-Yes? - He looked at her curiously when he heard the nickname coming from her lips.
-Don't pay attention to what my brother says. - She muttered, looking at him. - He can be very silly sometimes.
-Something that our brothers apparently have in common. - He rolled his eyes, making the youngest laugh.
-If Aegon and Jace are mean to you again, I'll tell Hūraxes to set them on fire. - The little girl hissed decisively and the older boy gave a small smile.
-I don't know why, but I don't think our mothers would be happy with that. - Aemond rolled his eyes, lowering his gaze, making Y/n smile too.
The next day, the sun had barely risen and Aemond was already chasing Sir Cole through the courtyard, vehemently insisting that he needed to go to the kings wood.
-I just don't understand what you want to do there, my prince. - The knight looked at him confused. - We were there about two days ago.
-I just want to go, Criston. - Aemond rolled his eyes, poorly raised. - And if you don't go with me, I'll find a way to escape and go there alone.
And overcome by tiredness and fearful that the young prince known for his stubbornness would actually keep his promise, Criston reluctantly led him to the forest.
The morning passed quickly at Red Kepp with the adults immersed in their daily activities while the children just attended their daily classes and played among themselves.
Y/n was laughing amusedly as she watched a rabbit that had entered one of the Kepp gardens, it was very white, fluffy and skittish making her laugh as she tried to imitate it. She had been looking for Aemond all morning, but without success in finding him and only now had she found something fun to do alone.
Until, amidst the soft rustling of the leaves, Aemond's voice rang out through the garden, calling her name softly.
-Aem! - She ran to him excitedly. - Look! A bunny!
But Aemond didn't seem very excited about the fluffy animal, he just waved and continued to look at her, looking a little embarrassed.
-Is everything okay? - She tilted her head to the side. - Was Jace bad again?
-No, it's nothing like that. - He sighed after gathering courage. - I just brought you a gift.
And taking his hands from behind his back, he handed the youngest a beautiful bouquet of fragrant, freshly picked daisies, still with a few drops of morning dew on them.
Y/n's eyes widened and became full of brightness at the same time, a smile lit up her childish face as she extended her hands expectantly to the eldest, who smiled at her reaction.
-How did you get them? - She sighed, smelling the flowers with a whiff of air as she looked at Aemond through the bouquet.
-I asked Sir Criston to take me to the forest and I picked them for you. - He shrugged, lowering his gaze a little blushing, and Y/n smiled even more, tilting her head to the side, admiring him.
-They're beautiful, Aem. - Y/n hugged him, being careful not to crush the beautiful daisies. - The most beautiful bouquet I've ever received!
-Have you received many bouquets? - He raised his eyebrow a little laughingly, and Y/n gently pushed his shoulder.
-Don't be silly, Aem.
The rest of the day Princess Y/n spent weaving beautiful flower crowns for herself using the flowers from the bouquet, except for a few that she separated and kept inside her favorite book, just as she had seen her mother do a few times.
And when Rhaenyra smiled and asked who had given her the flowers with her eyebrows raised in confusion, the little girl simply replied that it had been a secret admirer, making her mother roll her eyes with a smile as she kissed her forehead and stroked her hair.
Time passed more and more, and as friendship and love blossomed between Y/n and Aemond, enmity and hatred grew between him and her brothers. Everything reached its peak on the night of Laena Velaryon's wake, when Aemond reclaimed Vhagar and Luke in return gouged out his eye.
Y/n hadn't seen the commotion, she was a little scared after the wake and hearing Rhaena and Baela crying made her almost cry too, and for a moment she thought about how she would feel if she herself lost her mother. With that thought Y/n left the room she shared with her brothers and cousins and ran to her mother's room, lying down alone among the covers waiting for her to return, sleeping in the middle of the wait.
The girl was woken up in the middle of the night by shrill screams and raised voices breaking through the Driftmark fortress. And even fearful she left her mother's room and walked to the main hall following the sound of the voices. The Vision that greeted her was one of the most terrible she had ever witnessed in her life.
Aemond sat rigid in a chair, biting his lower lip tightly without making a sound, while the maester stitched up a furious red wound where his beautiful eye had once been.
At the same moment, tears ran down Y/n's face. Unable to make a sound, she ran to the foot of the chair, throwing herself on her knees and taking Aemond's hands in hers as she cried and sobbed. She didn't even notice her mother and brothers standing further away.
-A-Aemond. - She finally sobbed the name of the eldest after a few moments. - What happened?
Aemond didn't say anything, he just lowered his head, feeling the weight of everyone's gaze in the room on them both and barely able to open his lips for fear of succumbing to the pain and screaming if he did, even though he had already drunk a certain amount of poppy milk.
-What happened? - Alicent shouted, drawing everyone's eyes back to her. - I already said what happened! My son was attacked in an ambush and had his eye gouged out by Lucerys Velaryon!
Y/n shook her head in internal denial, still firmly pressing Aemond's hands in hers, barely noticing the blood that had not yet completely dried on his hands, staining hers. Finally noticing Luke's broken nose and crimson-red stained face, while Jace hovered protectively in front of him.
She didn't know what to think at that moment, and suddenly felt like a loud ringing was in her ears, and she just held her breath when her mother and the queen faced each other in the middle of the room with a dagger between them. The fear from earlier took over the girl's heart again at the same moment when she saw the blood running down her mother's wounded arm, and before things got any worse, Aemond stood up, assuming a very firm and straight posture.
-Don't cry for me, mother. - He spoke in a firm voice and without wavering even once. - I might have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon.
The youngest looked at him confused, not understanding what he meant by that. And when Alicent dragged Aemond back to his room, Y/n tried to follow him, but was stopped by her mother's soft touch on her shoulder, who looked at her with a stern look while shaking her head negatively.
-Why did you do this to him! - Y/n shouted, walking hard towards Luke, her eyes burning with fury as the others left the main hall.
-It wasn't his fault! - Jace shouted back, interposing himself between his younger brothers. - Luke was just defending himself against your dear friend Aemond!
-Lie! - She shouted at Jace while the two were fighting, not listening to Rhaenyra who ordered the two to stop arguing immediately.
-He stole Vhagar, beat Rhaena, broke Luke's nose and then tried to hit me with a stone! - Jace enumerated furiously, staring at the youngest. - All this while calling us bastards…
-Jace! - Rhaenyra practically shouted, reprimanding him firmly for using such a word.
Y/n just stood still for a moment, her eyes wide as she heard that while she slowly shook her head.
-You're lying. Aemond wouldn't do that. - She practically whispered, not her dear Aemond who hugged her and picked wild daisies just to make her happy, he would never do something like that without reason. - I don't believe you.
-But it's the truth! - Jace hissed between his teeth.
-What did you do to him? - Y/n shouted, livid with fury once again, glaring at her brother while ignoring her mother's reprimands. - He wouldn't attack you without reason!
-But he did! - Now it was Rhaena who shouted. - He stole my mother's dragon that was supposed to be mine and then attacked us.
-If you wanted Vhagar so much, you should have gone to her before someone else did! - Y/n spat back, facing the girl.
-Don't talk to her like that because of him! - Jace snapped back, now in front of Rhaena.
And before the argument could continue any longer, Rhaenyra reprimanded them both firmly, this time, leaving no room for questioning. And fearing that the argument would prevail, she took Y/n with her to her own room, taking her away from her brothers and cousins.
Hours later, when the day dawned looking more gray than anything else, Y/n waited until her mother was busy enough with the preparations for the trip and slipped into the room where she knew Aemond was. She was staring at the door in the distance at the end of the hallway, when suddenly it opened and Alicent left the room.
Taking a deep breath to gather courage, Y/n walked quickly over there, closing the door carefully behind her.
-I just want to be alone, mother… - Aemond's voice died when he noticed Y/n there, and as if she hadn't seen the injury the night before, he tried to hide it, turning his face to the side quickly while holding his breath.
-Aem. - She approached the bed slowly.
-Don't look at me. - He hid even more. - I'm completely deformed.
-T-There's nothing wrong with you. - She murmured, extending her hand slowly, fearing that he would move away once again and when he didn't, she slowly stroked his hair with her fingertips.
-I'm leaving for Dragonstone. - She sniffed, looking at his back and seeing him tense up at the same instant. - I just wanted to let you know that I don't believe anything they said about you. And that I'm happy for you to reclaim Vhagar.
As if those words had a calming effect on him, the older boy back relaxed slightly.
-Thank you. - He practically murmured, still feeling her soft touch on his hair.
And interrupting the moment, Y/n heard her mother's voice calling her from a distance, her eyes widening immediately afterwards.
-I have to go. - She sighed, slowly removing her hand. - Aemond?
-Yes?
-Can I see your face before I leave? - She whispered and he didn't move a muscle. - Please. I don't know when I'll be able to see you again.
Taking a deep breath, Aemond decided to end it and break his own heart once and for all when he saw the repulsion he knew would be in her eyes when she saw his mutilation in the light of day.
He slowly turned to her, barely looking her in the eyes as he did so, fearing what he would see there, and when he finally looked at her, what he found was not what he expected. Y/n had approached him with her face hovering inches away, and when he thought he couldn't get any closer, she left a gentle, soft kiss on the stitches that closed the reddened skin of his cheek that had become a mess of patched skin.
-You're still perfect for me, Aem. - She sighed against his skin delicately, making him almost gasp in surprise.
And hearing her mother call her once again, Y/n said "Goodbye" in a very low voice, feeling tears fall as she ran towards the door, heartbroken for leaving the injured Aemond behind.
After that, weeks passed before the two spoke again because they were so far apart, until one morning Aemond got up practically before nightingale time and ran to send a raven saying he was sorry for not having said goodbye properly weeks ago, placing with the letter a small daisy with slightly wilted petals that he had picked in the forest two days before.
The answer came a day later in the form of a long letter in which Y/n detailed everything that had happened at Dragon Stone in the last few days while stating how much she wished he was there, and how much he would enjoy the place.
From then on, it became common for both of them to exchange letters in secret, talking about their own lives and telling each other daily secrets week after week, month after month. Aemond's letters always included a small daisy attached, which made Y/n smile as she felt the sweet aroma of the flower while reading the contents of the letter.
Until the day Aemond sent her a letter informing her that the Master was preparing to perform a procedure on his missing eye to reduce the constant pain he had been feeling lately, and that he recommended inserting something so that the pressure would help his body readapt.
He did not receive a reply to that letter for days and when he thought, with his heart heavy with pain and shame, that the reply would no longer come, he received a small note through a raven with only a few words written and Y/n's name signed below.
Meet me on the middle island at the hour of the wolf.
Y/n
And without blinking he went.
In the middle of the night he sneaked through the secret passages until he reached the royal forest, where Vhagar slept soundly when she was not flying, and mounted her, leaving as stealthily as he could considering the enormous size of the centuries-old dragon.
As he approached the island, he noticed Y/n sitting on the grass, looking up at the starry sky, her head resting on Hūraxes' wing, covered in silver-blue scales. He caught his breath immediately when he noticed how much she had grown, as had her dragon.
As soon as she noticed Vhagar's approach, Y/n stood up, very anxious, admiring the grandeur of Aemond and his dragon in the sky. And when he got down and walked towards her, the two of them were barely breathing, staring at each other in the darkness, with only the moon illuminating them.
-Hello.
-Hi.
The two murmured at the same time, overcome by shyness and embarrassment after not seeing each other for so long and speaking only through letters.
-Y-You're taller. - Y/n whispered, not knowing whether to look up and stare at him or look down and stare at her own feet.
-Mmmm. - He didn't know what to answer, he was too lost in the melodious and sweet sound that her voice had developed over the years.
The two remained silent, staring at each other for what seemed like hours, while little Hūraxes bothered Vhagar by poking her with her nose and the older one turned away, occasionally snorting when she was prevented from sleeping.
-You called me? - Aemond murmured almost inaudibly after the long silence and Y/n widened her eyes, as if she had forgotten that she had planned all this.
-Y-Yes. - She cleared her throat after stuttering. - Yes, I did.
Aemond looked at her questioningly and with a sigh the younger one walked over to Hūraxes, whispering for him to be quiet and leave Vhagar alone in Valyrian, making Aemond smile and close his eye slightly as he felt a pang in his chest.
-I wanted to give you something as a gift. - She looked back as she took something that was firmly attached to her dragon's saddle, and Aemond frowned in confusion at the prospect of receiving a gift from her.
And without saying anything else, Y/n approached and slowly unwrapped the cloth that previously covered what Aemond noticed was a large block of sapphire.
-You told me that the maester is going to do a procedure to alleviate your pain. - She began a little awkwardly, fearing that he would not like the idea. - And that you would need something for the inside.
With a little more courage she reached out her hand slowly and touched him over the eye patch in a gentle caress.
-I always thought your eyes looked like them when I was a child. - She sighed, looking him in the eye now. - As bright as sapphires.
And seeming to have no control over himself, Aemond inclined his head to her gentle touch.
-I thought I would need something that would do at least justice to the most beautiful blue eyes I have ever seen in my life. - And without thinking about how indecent that would be considered, Y/n leaned forward and put her forehead against Aemond's, staring straight into his eyes. - I found the stone myself, with the help of my guard, of course.
The older one didn't know what to say. He just stood there, staring at her almost breathlessly.
-I am not worthy of so much praise. - He finally muttered a few moments later with his gaze down and Y/n smiled wistfully.
-You are worthy of even more.
And slowly pulling away, she passed the sapphire block to his hands, feeling the touch, previously so soft when they were children, rough and calloused, causing strange goosebumps on her skin.
-I am sorry for not being with you that night. - She lamented, looking at the floor and then looking up at him again. - What my brothers did to you was unforgivable!
-There was nothing you could do, Y/n. - He spoke in a muffled voice, squeezing the sapphire block between his fingers. - You would only hurt yourself too, and I couldn't bear that.
-I also can't bear that you got hurt without me being able to do anything to help. - The pain in her eyes was visible even in the darkness and Aemond would rather be dead than see suffering in her eyes.
-You shouldn't blame yourself for this. - He murmured getting closer to her. - It wasn't in your power to save me.
-But I am grateful for being my confidant all these years, never leaving me alone even for a moment. - Aemond placed the sapphire block on a rock on the ground and held her hands between his affectionately, making her smile with her gaze downcast.
-I have something for you. - He murmured a little shyly, reaching into his pocket and taking out a slightly crushed daisy, making Y/n's eyes light up almost instantly. - I had brought you more, but the wind on Vhagar's back tore them apart, I could only save this one.
-She is perfect. - The youngest smiled, taking the flower from his hands and placing it behind her ear with her eyes shining. - The most beautiful flower I have ever received.
-Have you received many flowers? - He asked with a simple side smile, making her smile beautifully when she realized that he remembered it too.
And breathing deeply as she heard the rustling of birds in the trees as the first rays of morning appeared in the sky, Y/n left a quick kiss on the left corner of Aemond's lips, making him widen his eyes in shock as she ran away with flushed cheeks towards Hūraxes, leaving Aemond stunned behind.
Only when Y/n was already flying through the dawn with her dragon was he able to move again, breathing deeply, feeling his lungs burn as he smiled with his hand on the place where her soft lips had touched.
And still smiling, he reached for the sapphire block on the rock, realizing at that moment that there was a note attached to the bottom, with an anxious look he opened it as fast as his hands could.
"I will be praying to the gods every day and every night for your recovery. I hope you will accept this gift as a demonstration of my eternal affection for you.
With all my love, Y/n"
And looking at the paper affectionately, he put it in his pocket, close to his heart, walking again to Vhagar, feeling his chest heat up uncontrollably.
⚜⚜⚜
The procedure performed by the masters was a success, and even in the midst of recovery, Aemond did not stop writing to Y/n, who was elated to receive the first letter after the meeting, as she feared that he would take her for an dishonorable girl judging by that night.
After that first escape and the healing of Aemond's skin, meetings like that on that small island became frequent for the two. Escaping in the middle of the night and meeting under the moon and stars while they talked and smiled at each other. Every now and then, when he felt bold, Aemond would steal a kiss from her sweet lips, and then they would both blush to death, looking at each other shyly.
A few months after the eye procedure, Aemond felt comfortable showing his almost completely healed eye again to Y/n. He thought it was unfair not to let her see it since she had given him the stone, and he knew she was curious, but he was afraid she would find it grotesque beyond measure and not want to see him anymore after that.
He was completely wrong. As soon as she saw the sapphire attached to the socket where his beautiful blue eye had previously been, she sighed with contentment, carefully bringing her hand to the area and gently caressing the scar.
-Gevie. (beautiful)- She sighed in Valyrian, barely noticing that she had changed languages due to surprise and making Aemond blush slightly with such a feeling of approval for himself.
Over time, Aemond learned a way to bring the daisies to Y/n without them arriving completely crushed and destroyed, and she was overjoyed with joy with each bouquet of flowers she received from him.
There was just one problem, someone started to notice Y/n's constant happiness and the fact that she was constantly surrounded by those weeds that everyone knew didn't grow in Dragon Stone's volcanic soil.
And one day, taking advantage of his sister's distraction, he followed her in Vermax to a small island, landing stealthily among the trees and frowning when he saw her alone admiring the sky. Until a monstrously large shadow covered the moon's brightness over the earth, making him almost lose his breath. And when Vhagar landed with its enormity, the entire land of the island trembled.
Jace's eyes shone with fury when the older man took a bouquet of those damned weeds and held it out to his sister, who accepted it with a bright smile, leaving a kiss on the corner of his lips.
-Get your paws off my sister! - Jacaerys shouted in fury, walking towards them both, making Y/n's eyes widen in shock.
-Jace? What are you doing here?
He didn't answer, he just pulled her arm hard, making her hiss in pain as he snatched the bouquet from her hands and threw it hard on the floor. At the same moment, Aemond pushed him to the ground without making the slightest effort, his face contorted with anger, while Hūraxes approached, growling in an furious manner.
-Don't you dare hurt her, you damn thing! - He growled, taking hard steps towards Jace, causing Vermax to jump from where he was hiding among the trees and threaten to breathe fire on Aemond. But that didn't do much to scare him, since now he had Vhagar who, upon seeing the knight under threat, stood up in a more than imposing manner, hovering behind Aemond and making Vermax back down with just a powerful snort that made the plants spread across the ground.
Aemond threw a smile of maximum arrogance at Jace who was still down, and Before he could hit him again, Y/n intervened with wide eyes, making him stop at the same moment, staring at her fixedly.
-You're going to come home with me. - Jace snorted, standing up, now even more furious at being easily surpassed by Aemond both in physical strength and in the strength of his dragons. - And when I tell our mother and Daemon that you were alone, at dawn, in the middle of nowhere with that cripple, she'll ask for his head for dishonoring you!
Jacaerys had barely closed his mouth when Y/n gave him a loud slap on the left cheek, her eyes burning with rage.
-Don't you dare refer to him that way again! - She shouted angrily, making Aemond's eyes widen. - Do you hear me?
-You want to know? - Jace laughed without humor and even more angrily. - You can stay here with him! It'll be even better to see our mother's and Daemon's reaction when I tell them that you're still here with him.
And after spitting out the words, he turned and climbed onto Vermax with ease, already flying towards Dragon Stone.
-No! - Y/n screamed desperately, unable to stop him, and even at a disadvantage since he had left first, she ran to Hūraxes, ready to mount.
-Y/n! - Aemond's voice sounded tense. - Where are you going?
-I need to stop him! - She practically cried, staring at him in despair. - If my mother finds out, and especially… if Daemon finds out, they'll say you dishonored me and they'll want to hurt you for it!
-You can't go like this! - He murmured, visibly worried, as he caressed her face affectionately.
-I'll be okay. - She forced a smile, stroking the dragon's silver-blue scales. - Hūraxes will take care of me.
Y/n was preparing to climb onto the dragon, but then a terrible idea crossed her mind. What if she never saw Aemond again? What if everything went wrong and the two were separated forever? And faced with these catastrophic thoughts, she turned back and kissed him on the lips. A real kiss, different from all the others they had shared up until that moment. Their tongues intertwined and danced between them, and they only let go when they were practically out of breath.
Aemond pressed his forehead against Y/n's, and they both closed their eyes in silence for a few moments, trapped in that mutual understanding that had always been so common and certain for them.
And with a final sigh, Y/n separated from him and climbed onto Hūraxes' saddle, feeling tears almost escaping her eyes as she flew away from her former safe haven.
Aemond looked at the other beautiful daisies, now crushed and trampled on the ground, and feeling his heart heavy with pain, he mounted Vhagar and took flight towards Kings Landing.
Unfortunately, no matter how fast her dear Hūraxes was, Y/n couldn't get to the Dragon Stone before Jacaerys. And when she landed on the sandy ground and walked towards the castle, Y/n could see her mother and stepfather with deadly looks on their faces.
-Y/n, I want you to tell me the truth. - Rhaenyra spoke in a restrained manner as soon as she reached the top of the stairs. - Did you let him touch you?
Rhaenyra wanted to say more than kisses and soft hugs in the starlight, but Y/n didn't know that and so she just stared at her own feet, blushing, unable to say a single word.
-By the gods. - The older woman sighed, looking at her husband.
-For me, the solution is clear, we ask for his head for taking away her virtue and solve all our problems at once. - Daemon hissed furiously, making Y/n's eyes widen.
-No! - She practically screamed. - It wasn't that way! Aemond never touched me like that, I swear!
-How do I know you're not just trying to protect him? - Rhaenyra looked at her very seriously.
-Muña, I swear to you! - Y/n pleaded. - I swear! He would only kiss me and bring me flowers! That's all! Don't hurt him, please!
-Go to your room right now and get ready, we're going to Kings Landing! - Rhaenyra's voice sounded very serious, making Daemon smile widely while Y/n shivered in panic.
-Muña, I'm begging you. - Y/n cried, looking deeply into the older woman's eyes. - Don't hurt him. If anything happens to Aemond, it will be as if it had happened to me!
And wiping the tears with the back of her hands, she walked with long strides towards the chambers, finding Jace standing in the way.
-If Aemond suffers any harm or is exiled because of you, I will disregard you as my brother! - She practically spat those words angrily at Jacaerys, making him shiver.
Rhaenyra and Daemond argued all morning before leaving for Kings Landing, the shouts in Valyrian could be heard from miles away. Y/n understood some parts, especially what Daemond was saying, since his angry voice could reach the seven hells at that height.
Basically, he continued to ask for Aemond's head or exile, which according to him was the best possible option and the most beneficial considering the whole situation and thinking about a not too distant future. Y/n wanted to understand what her mother was saying, but she used a strangely low tone of voice with screams when she was angry, making it difficult to hear anything from a distance other than angry and disjointed growls.
Rhaenyra didn't even want to leave by ship, since only Y/n, Jace, Daemon and Rhaenyra herself would go to the capital. They all went by dragon, and Y/n had never had such a terrible flight in her life, feeling her stomach churn to the point of almost vomiting on poor Hūraxes.
When they finally arrived and got off the carriage in front of the Red Keep, Y/n didn't know if it was just her impression, but the silence there seemed morbid while Alicent and Oto waited at the top of the stairs.
-My princess, what brings you here without giving us any warning? - Oto murmured, raising his eyebrow in curiosity.
-This is still our house Hightower. - Daemon spat, rolling his eyes. - We don't need to give you any warning or ask for your permission to come.
-That's not what I said, my prince. - Oto spat back, trying to maintain his composure.
-I came to discuss very serious matters with my father. - Rhaenyra finally spoke, and before Oto could open his mouth she cut him off with a serious voice. - Only with my father!
-You don't need to guide me, I know the way. - And without saying anything else she put her right hand on Y/n's back, guiding her into the Keep.
Y/n couldn't feel anything other than fear. All she could think was Aemond. Her eyes ran through every corner and crevice of the castle, looking for even a figure that could indicate his presence, but she didn't see him anywhere.
When they arrived at Viserys' room, a strange smell took over Y/n's nostrils, momentarily distracting her until she realized where the smell was coming from when she saw her grandfather sitting reading a book in an armchair with twice the wounds he had the last time she had seen him.
–Dad? - Rhaenyra whispered and the old man's eyes instantly shone as he looked up.
-My beloved girl! It's so good to see you!
And Rhaenyra hugged him, feeling warmth in her chest as she did so, and for a moment Y/n thought she would reconsider bothering the king by seeing him in such conditions, but she didn't reconsider. She whispered something inaudibly in his ear, making Y/n's skin crawl with pure anguish.
-This calls for an audience with all those involved. - Viserys finally spoke out loud and Y/n felt her heart drop in her chest.
Almost an hour later, they were all gathered in the main hall with Viserys wearing the crown for the first time in months and sitting on the Iron Throne.
Alicent and Otto had morbid looks on their faces while Aemond remained motionless, avoiding looking at Y/n so as not to make the already bad situation even worse.
-As your king, your father and your grandfather, I order you to be sincere. - Viserys did his best to keep the firm voice he once had.
-Aemond, did you take away Y/n's virtue?
After that question, the empty hall was dominated by a deadly silence, and with a sigh Aemond murmured.
-No, I would never dishonor her in that way.
-But would you take her to a piece of land in the middle of nowhere at the hour of the wolf to just exchange kisses? - Daemon mocked and Viserys gestured for him to be quiet while Rhaenyra glared at him with a deadly look.
-Y/n, is what Aemond says true?
-Yes, your grace. - She spoke as firmly as she could while holding her hands tightly so as not to tremble. - He never touched me in an inappropriate way.
-Well, if they both vehemently deny any accusations against my son, you can't do anything against him! - Alicent scolded with contained fury facing Rhaenyra.
-Nothing may have happened between them, but tongues speak! - Rhaenyra hissed very rigidly. - Servants hear things and tell each other and before we know it, the royal houses are aware of everything that happens within our walls too!
-Father… - She looked seriously at the throne. - I will not allow my only daughter to be defamed.
Y/n felt tears blurring her vision, prepared to beg her grandfather not to listen to her mother when she demanded Aemond's head or exile.
-I demand that Aemond marry my daughter so that she will not be dishonored! - Rhaenyra growled unyieldingly and Y/n almost froze in shock, barely feeling the tears roll down their cheeks at that moment.
For the first time in that day, Y/n and Aemond's hearts beat in surprise and then in joy.
-What? - Alicent hissed furiously, and Y/n could see from the corner of her eye that Daemon didn't seem happy with the idea either.
The only one in the room besides her and Aemond who seemed happy was Viserys, who upon hearing Rhaenyra's solution seemed to almost shine with a breath of life again.
-I accept the princess's demand.
Alicent's eyes widened as did Oto's upon hearing Viserys speaking, making the decision so seriously and clearly. And before either or both of them could intervene, the morbid king continued.
-It is hereby proclaimed that from this moment on, Aemond of House Targaryen and Y/n of House Velaryon are betrothed and shall be married within a maximum period of three moons from today.
Y/n could very well die of such happiness with those words. And when she looked in Aemond's direction, her heart brightened even more when she saw the almost palpable joy in his eyes, even though his face was serious, and he could hide it from everyone, but Y/n could notice the curve in his serrated lips.
As she left the hall, Y/n could not hear the sounds around her, it was as if a sweet song sounded softly in her ears, bringing her peace of mind while a smile of enchantment hovered on her lips.
She found Jace waiting anxiously outside, not even having been called to say what he had witnessed, she simply hugged him and left a loud kiss on his cheek before walking, still humming, towards her own chambers, being closely followed by a member of the royal guard so as not to stray from the path.
And when a secret passage opened hours later and Aemond appeared inside the room holding a single, slightly wilted daisy in his hands, Y/n ran towards him, hugging him fervently, laughing outrageously when he spun her around in the air, holding her by the waist.
-We're engaged. - He murmured as incredulous as she was, his eyes still shining with that uncontrollable joy. And Y/n just shook her head positively, holding his face between her palms, bringing their foreheads together, still smiling.
Aemond left a soft, sweet kiss on her lips, and carefully placed the daisy behind Y/n's ear when he let her go.
-She remained in the bag, separated from the bouquet. - He smiled, caressing her soft hair with the back of his hand in a reverent way, and Y/n practically trembled with joy at the sound of his voice and his touch.
Hearing footsteps coming down the hallway, Aemond left a sweet kiss on her forehead and disappeared through the secret passage. And when Rhaenyra entered, she only arched her eyebrow when she noticed the slightly wilted flower stuck in her daughter's hair, but decided not to comment.
From then on, the days seemed to pass like the wind in winter. The rest of the family came by ship from Dragon Stone, while the preparations for the wedding were made with all the care in the world, with Y/n smiling and giving her opinion on every detail.
Jace was appalled by everything that had happened. The intention was to disappear with Aemond, not to marry him to his sister. And no matter how much he tried to dissuade his mother, she was adamant about the idea, as for Y/n, she laughed at his expense, constantly emphasizing the great fool he had made.
Letters and more letters with invitations were sent, and as the wedding day approached, nobles from all over the kingdom arrived in Kings Landing to witness the celebration of a marriage that many believed would bring lasting peace to the kingdom.
When the day of the wedding ceremony finally arrived, Y/n could barely breathe. She hadn't been able to see Aemond up close for two weeks, it was to be expected that the bride and groom would be able to spend time together, but she saw him more when they were hidden than now, with so many eyes watching every possible slip-up before the wedding.
Besides the fact that with so many political and royal tasks for both of them before the ceremony, there was barely any time to talk. She couldn't wait to finally be married to him and nobody never be able to separate them again.
That afternoon, when the sun was high in the sky, Princess Y/n Targaryen entered the sept of Baelor in a beautiful white and gold dress, with a radiant smile on her face, and her arms linked to her stepfather, Prince Daemond, who, on the contrary, had a dark frown on her face.
But what caused whispers to take over the sept was the fact that a Targaryen princess, currently considered third in line to the Iron Throne, behind only her mother and older brother, was getting married with her hair loose and a simple crown of daisies braided on her head, with dozens of other daisies sewn onto the train and skirt of the wedding dress..
"A princess marrying with simple weeds on her head!"
Exalted voices whispered through the sept, trying not to be heard.
What none of them knew was that even though he was up to his neck in tasks, Prince Aemond had woken up early that morning riding his horse and headed towards the royal forest just to pick a bouquet of fresh daisies for his future wife, leaving it on the table in her bedroom for her to find when she woke up.
When Y/n woke up that morning, a smile of pure joy took over her lips as she wove the most beautiful flower crown she had ever made in her life to wear at her own wedding. And making the royal seamstress almost growl at her, Y/n ordered the rest of the daisies to be sewn into the train of her wedding dress, only being satisfied when the last of the flowers was attached.
She didn't care about any mocking looks or laughter from the other nobles who spoke of her dress full of weeds. The only eye that mattered was Aemond's, which looked at her wide-eyed and full of happiness so wide that it almost made the already huge smile on her face tear up her cheeks.
When Daemon finally handed her over to Aemond reluctantly, heading to his place next to Rhaenyra, the septon stood up and everyone immediately fell silent as the wedding ceremony began.
The two repeated the septon's words, breathing deeply as they looked at each other in love with an almost childlike happiness overflowing from their eyes.
After uttering their oaths of fidelity and love, Aemond removed a sapphire ring from his cloak, making Y/n's eyes water at the same time while her lips trembled with anticipation.
-Is-Is that the one? - She whispered only for him to hear amidst a trembling smile as she extended her hand to Aemond.
-Mmmm. - He murmured as he nodded positively with a sideways smile. - Exactly the same stone. - He whispered very quietly, but with a palpable pride in his voice. - United forever now, wife.
And under the watchful eyes of the septon and the entire court, Aemond kissed her hand, making her smile beautifully at him, and then he caressed her daisy-scented hair, gently running his thumb over the flower petals.
-Forever now, husband. - She sighed back, laying her head against the palm of his hand and closing her eyes as she felt the soft touch that would forever be hers now, ears ringing moments later with the deafening noise of the court's applause as Aemond finally placed a sweet kiss on her lips, the first they had finally married, the first of the beginning of a lifetime together.
divider credits, It took me hours to find this perfect divider, thank you to the sweet person who created it! 🥰💕
Final notes: I saw somewhere (I don't remember where) that daisies are weeds! And I became obsessed with this fact because I had no idea that a flower that I like so much is considered a weed by many! From this subtle information and the request mentioned here, this story came about! I hope you like it! 💖💖💕🥰
Ps: Aemond only didn't call Jace a bastard on the island because Y/n was there, and he wouldn't be foolish, but know that inside he did! 🤡😂
#house of the dragon#hotd#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#hotd aemond#aemond x reader#aemond fanfiction#prince aemond#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen imagine#hotd imagine#hotd fanfic#hotd x reader#aemond x y/n#aemond x you#hotd x you#aemond stannies#aemond targaryen x female reader#hotd fic#house of the dragon fanfiction#house of the dragon fanfic#aemond imagine#aemond fluff#aemond fic#hotd fanfiction#hotd fluff#house of the dragon fic#house of the dragon imagine
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a moment too late
Characters: Ayato, Diluc, Childe, Cyno, Wriothesley, Zhongli
— your husband doesn't make it to you in time...
CW: ANGST w/ very little to no comfort, gn!reader (they/them pronouns), scars (Diluc), blood (Diluc, Childe, Cyno, Zhongli), death (all except Cyno and Diluc), kidnapping (Cyno), minor Fontaine Act 1 + 4 spoilers (Primordial Sea Water - iykyk), spoilers for Childe’s real name
val's no sympathy novemeber masterlist
I don't know if I can take a month of hurting my boys....
Thinking about them not making it in time...
Ayato, who had been in an important meeting.
He'd given strict instructions to all his retainers and the Shuumatsuban to not interrupt under any circumstance. So, when one of the newer helpers knocked on the door, the commissioner was less than pleased. Without letting the young man get a word out, Ayato cuts him off, a sharp smile on his face. "Please, wait outside. I'll deal with the matter after this."
When the retainer tried again, a feeble "but, my lord-!" sputtering over his twisted tongue, the change in Ayato's tone couldn't be missed, and it left no room for interjections.
When a second knock echoed through the room some minutes later, it took everything in the clan head not to sigh out loud in front of all the powerful politicians and businessmen. This time, however, when it was the familiar face of Thoma that stepped in, a scarily straight face as his expression, something shifted in the male. It didn't help that the pyro user didn't stop his advancement toward him, even at the call of his name.
It was like the whole world shattered the moment the blond leaned by his ear, the news that you'd been placed in the nearest hospital plummetting his heart into his stomach.
There's this inner struggle that takes over, the role of a leader and your husband fighting against one another - he can't just leave so abruptly, but he also feels like he might crumble if he isn't by your side in the next ten seconds.
It's the firm hand that's placed on his shoulder that breaks him away from his thoughts. Following the arm he meets the slight smile of Thoma, "I have this handled, my lord. Go, be with them."
He's up and out of the room in an instant, briskly walking in the direction of the hospital. When he gets there he borderline demands the receptionist to tell him your room number, off again the moment she gets the last syllable out. Just as he reaches the curtain separating you from him, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest, a doctor steps out.
"Lord Kamisato..." his tone is grave as he blocks the entrance with his body. Despite the obvious attempt to stop the young lord from entering, your husband tries to sidestep him. He's stopped by a simple raise of the hand and he feels a mix of disdain and unsettlement swirl within.
"Please, let me speak with them," Ayato nothing but begs, something he never does. He's known as a negotiator, a logical reasoning man, he doesn't need to beg for what he needs in the political world, but for you, his world, he'd gladly grovel at this man's feet just for you.
The aforementioned man licks his lips, adjusting his clipboard so it rests against his chest, "I'm sorry Mr. Kamisato, but that won't be possible..."
The urgency rises and Ayato moves the doctor out of his way, stepping into your room. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together about what was trying to be said, but your lover can't bring himself to believe it. Not you too.
The moment he's at your bedside he leans close, trying to wear a smile as he places his hand on your shoulder, softly shaking you the exact same way he did that very morning. "My dear... wake up. This is no time for your silly tricks, we have to go home and have dinner together like I promised." His warm hands move up to your cheek, brushing his thumb along your equally warm skin, but when you make no move or noise the reality finally sets in for him.
His broken smile slips and all he can manage is a soft call of your name. Of course, there's still no answer, and Ayato is stuck flipping between the different stages of grief.
What if he'd listened the first time? Let the retainer who initially walked in speak? Would he have gotten a chance to speak with you? To tell you he loves you? To say goodbye properly?
You can't actually be dead, right? There's no way this is happening to him again.
He starts to promise to spend more time with you, he'll take off as much time as you want him to, he'll take you to that restaurant you've been wanting to go to but couldn't bring yourself to without him, he'll visit the land of Liyue with you - he knows you've been gushing about the scenery and culture recently. He'll do it all and more, you just had to open your eyes again for him.
Silence.
"Damn it all..." he whispered, face twisting in agony. Of course he couldn't have it his way this time. As if his parents weren't enough, the world just had to take you away from him too.
The doctor watches for a moment as one of the most powerful men in Inazuma sheds tear after tear before him, the droplets falling and hitting your lifeless body. As Ayato sinks to his knees before you, the doctor takes this as his cue to step out.
For the next few hours, the hospital is noticeably quieter, no one daring to interrupt a man who's just lost one of the dearest people to him.
For the next few hours, Ayato's tears slowly soak your shirt, his grip on the bedding knuckle white, his sobs muffled by your skin as it slowly grows colder and colder, fighting to commit everything about you to memory.
That night, he could not bring himself to eat dinner, for all he could remember was you, the way you smiled at him and how it was all ripped away from him, never to be seen again.
———
Diluc, whose connections are spread all over the world yet no one could locate you.
It should be impossible. The owner of Dawn Winery only associates himself with competent business partners. So, how could it be that the best of the best from all walks of life and all backgrounds couldn't locate the one person he needed to find?
Tirelessly, the redhead looked for you. Many sleepless nights weighed on him from shouldering so many responsibilities at once. He constantly asked for updates on the investigation and every time the news that there were no advances was just another layer of stress for him. So, of course, the moment the word of your location reached his ears, Diluc was up and out the door, claymore in hand, a fury in his eyes that few have seen only a handful of times.
When he got there, there being some far corner of Starfell Valley on the mountainside, there was no time to process or ask questions. All he knew was that you needed help if you wanted even a chance of making it out alive.
By a stroke of luck, you managed to escape the Abyss Mages that had been holding you hostage, an atrocious act that was no doubt aimed to make The Darknight Hero suffer. However, weaponless and exhausted, the creatures of down under easily caught up to you, surrounding you and throwing you around like a ragdoll. Diluc counted seven - one hydro, two electro, two cryo and two pyro - each using the elements to keep you from running too far.
With a few swift strikes of his enflamed claymore, the cryo and hydro mages disappeared in a cloud of red and black. Of course, they'd be the easiest of the group to get rid of. The last four would be the real challenge.
In between strikes, Diluc managed to get close to you, bending down to your fallen form. “Are you alright? Can you walk?” He did a once over of your body, noting that dirt clung to you and a couple cuts littered your skin. You could barely move too, having the shit kicked out of you.
“Not very far…” you groaned, raising your body slightly off the ground. Your lover nodded, glancing at the enemy before helping you stand.
“That’s alright, just get to that tree over there. I’ll come get you and take you home soon.” Diluc watches for a moment as you nod and begin to make your way over, turning his back to you once you've made decent progress. Taking up his weapon once more, it's a brutal clash of sparks and fire as he lets his adrenaline and rage fuel his every move. Soon, one electro mage goes down, and then the second and then one of the pyro ones until all that stands between him and getting you medical care and a nice bath is a single pyro Abyss Mage.
The demonic creature cackles loudly, a shrill sound that echoes in the silence. As it begins to wave its staff, a shock of recognition strikes Diluc and he glances around, looking for where the fire-breathing faces are going to appear. When he doesn't spot any dread fills his being and he chances a glance towards you, praying to the Archons that what he's thinking isn't about to play out.
The gods weren't in his favour.
Time seems to slow as he watches the triangle of heads surround you; he watches as you slowly turn to face one head-on, your tired eyes widening as you register the situation. Dilcu's only able to catch you turning your face away before he attacks the mage while its guard is down, interrupting its early dance of victory.
The next few minutes are a blur, both for you and your husband. Everything hurts, any slight movement or breath sends shooting pain through your body. When Diluc picks you up off the ground you let out the most heartbreaking cry he's heard and it took everything in him not to just stand there and soothe you.
He mumbled apology after apology, offering words of comfort as he ran as best he could without harming you further. When he made it to the cathedral he was ushered out of the room, every nun available flocking to your side. Despite the overwhelming emotions building in him, Diluc lets you go, waiting with as much patience as he can muster, which isn't a lot at that moment.
It takes about an hour before a sister approaches him, every second that he waited excruciating. She tells him that while your face was unharmed, you having managed to lean out of the way just in time, your upper arm, shoulder and the base of your neck on your left side were burned pretty bad and that scarring was almost guaranteed.
"But are they alive?" is all he asks in return. He cares that you were hurt, but he cares more to know if you'll live to spend another day with him. All the sister can do is nod, informing him that recovery will be slow, but you are alive. She adds right after that while you passed out from everything he was still allowed to enter and sit by your side. So, he does.
The nun didn't lie when she told him that things would be slow. It took several days before you could be discharged, and even when you were the days and nights that followed were filled with more torture than the usual joy.
Your burns would irritate at the slightest things, and you started to doubt your looks, wondering if your husband would still love you by the end when the wounds were all healed. At night you were haunted by nightmares of your time in captivity, and by the face of the abyss spell that burned you. It didn't help that the face was red and fluffy, just like Diluc's hair, leaving you to back away from him every time you woke up from that recurring dream, your mind tricking you that that thing had come back.
And all Diluc could do was hold you close to his chest once you saw that it was just him. He'd rub a warm hand along your back as you sobbed and shivered, quietly blaming himself for not being fast enough - to find you, to defeat the enemy, to get you out of the way of the fight. If he had been, if he succeeded in any of those things, then maybe you wouldn't have to live with this pain and trauma.
You were alive, but at what cost?
———
Childe, who was all the way in Inazuma for a mission.
Your husband left you that fateful day with a tight hug, a promise to come home and a kiss on the lips. As he walked further and further away from you all you could think about was greeting him in the same fashion. Your touch was his favourite thing after all, a reminder that you're there with him and that you love him despite all his wrongdoings.
The day came when Ajax set foot back in his homeland, and the first thing he did was search for you at the dock. When he didn't spot you, he'll admit he was a little disappointed but didn't think much of it. You were most likely just relaxing at home.
Yet, when he walked through the door he couldn’t find you anywhere. “Strange… where could they have gone? Maybe mom and dad’s?”
A quick trip over there reveals nothing however, just the tidbit of information from his mother on how it’s been a couple days since you’ve visited and that you last told them you were needing to chop some firewood.
Now he was not only confused but a sense of dread plagued his chest. Hoping it’s just his normal worrying, Ajax bids farewell to his family and heads back home. Sure enough, he spotted some stacked logs off to the side. What didn’t make sense though was the lack of an axe and the footprints that lead further into the tree line behind your home.
Following the tracks, the male’s eyes widen and his expression falls as the patterns in the snow go from clean prints to frantic clusters, as if you began running. What really injected fear into him though was the barely visible Treasure Hoarder insignia buried in the snow, its gold sheen glistening from the sun.
At this point his feet had a mind of their own as he picked up the pace, his mind running a mile a minute with the scariest thoughts his brain could conjure.
He wasn’t sure if he should've been relieved or frightened when he found you lying in the snow. Either way, he sprinted the rest of the way to you, calling out your name. You were on your side, back to him; you must’ve rolled into the fetal position to stay warm.
And that’s when he noticed it, the pink tint of the usually pure white snow surrounding your fallen form. Panic shoots through him as he rolls you onto your back, his hand recoiling at the state you were in, covering his mouth.
"No..." your cold gaze stares up at the sky, skin lacking the warmth he craves after a long day. Between the folds of your undone coat reveals where most, if not all the blood flowed from, now dry from days passed. With a shaky hand, he moves the cloth aside, surveying the damage.
The cut was deep but didn't hit anything major from the looks of it... you would have bleed out slow and painfully, and the mere idea makes him sick to his stomach. More and more he looks at the damage done to you and the more his blood boils and his heart stutterers. You were innocent, his spouse, his best friend, you had no intimate dealings with Fatui work, so why you?
His eyes narrow back in the direction of the insignia, the sorrow morphing into anger; they were fucking cowards, going after you instead of him. At the sanctuary of your home no less.
Looking back at the body that once housed your soul, he noticed something odd about your hand. It was clasped shut like you were holding onto something.
He starts to pry your fingers open, and for just a moment he can imagine that you're alive, back in the warmth of your home, grasping his scarf in a game of keep away. He'd pull you close, wrapping an arm around you and trapping you to his chest, grasping your wrist and trying to get the red fabric from you. Your husband would laugh merrily, "demanding" that you give him it back or else, to which you'd tell him no, because as long as you had it then he couldn't leave for the day.
When your palm finally opens up is the same moment time really stops and the world doesn't feel real around him. Picking up the small object, Ajax clasps it in his own hands, bringing it close to his chest - his heart - in hopes of feeling just the last bit of you left behind. He won't ever know this, but what he's doing now was exactly what you did in your final hour - you held the tangible promise you made with him close to you, your thoughts filled with him and only him as you took your last breath.
From that day onwards, your wedding ring rests against his collarbone, a string looped through it. He never takes it off, nor does he remove his own ring, because to him, you were the only one fit to take the place at his side in life. He doesn't want anyone else to love him, because no one could ever love or hold him in such high regard like you did.
It was everything or nothing, and you are his everything. Since you're gone, he'll gladly settle for nothing. Anything else and he'd label himself a cheater to your love.
———
Cyno, who prioritized catching the mastermind, lest any more innocents get hurt.
The General Mahamatra trudged back through the desert sands, clouds of dust trailing behind him. His grip was tight against the criminal’s wrists, leaving no room for escape. While part of him was solely focused on the captured mastermind, another part of him was thinking about you and how he's going to make it up to you for neglecting you the last few weeks. How could he ever possibly thank you or repay you for your neverending patience?
Rounding the last rock, Cyno finally makes it back to where he left you, having instructed you to wait there until he returned. You know that it was vital to stay put, so why is it that you've disappeared? Eyes red like the sunset scan the camp, finding that nothing was missing among your personal belongings or supplies.
As he continued to try and piece together the clues, you stood frozen in the shadows, an arm pulling you against a chest, keeping you in place. The hand over your mouth didn't help quell your fear, nor did the warm, rancid breath that tickled your neck.
How hard do you have to stare at the back of your lover's head for him to just turn in your direction!? Apparently very hard, because no matter how much you will a telepathic message his way, he still fails to find you. Tears begin to slide down your face - is this really it? Will this be the end? When he's so close to you? Will he turn and walk in the wrong direction, giving the man holding you time to escape with you in tow?
The looming threat that if you step out of line you risk harming yourself and Cyno plays in your mind, but you also remember nights lying in bed with your husband, whispering reassurance to him that no matter the situation you knew he'd always save you. You had full confidence in his abilities.
Gathering your resolve you take a leap of faith and elbow your captor, biting the hand that impairs your voice. Making a mad dash from the hiding spot, you scream for Cyno, watching as his head whips in your direction.
It all happened so fast after that. One second there's just you, him and the two Eremites and in the next, you're surrounded. The mastermind Cyno had been holding manages to retch his arms free, whistling a tune causing other desert dwellers to pop up from seemingly nowhere. A capture net is being thrown over you, aiming true and trapping you once more. Cyno, now flanked from all sides, can only watch helplessly as two men grasp the ends of the net, dragging you like you're nothing but a sack of goods.
You squirm with all your might, but it does nothing as you're effortlessly tossed in a caravan, screaming and sobbing for your husband. Amidst the scuffle, the leader orders the others to "shut them up" and right after a powder is poured on you, the effects taking seconds to kick in.
You begin to quiet until you slump on your side, and Cyno feels the urgency build even more. He channels all the strength he has into at least breaking through to get to you, but the moment he does the snap of reins echoes out and the cart takes off.
So, he runs, because for once something much for valuable that his life is on the line. Because he can't afford to let the bad guy get away this time.
But a man cannot match the pace of a horse, and it isn't long before his stamina reaches its limit and he stumbles, and you disappear over the horizon.
———
Wriothesley, who believed he could save everyone.
By no means was the warden of the Fortress of Meropide lacking in skills. He's proven time and time again that he's worthy of the title of Duke among the underwater structure, able to shoulder the responsibility of keeping each and every inmate well cared for and as comfortable as possible.
Perhaps that was the reason he's failing now to protect those he really cares for, for you were no inmate, but rather the person he swore to spend the rest of his life with.
He knew that this day would come, but he was still so, so unprepared for it. The damn seal was due to break sooner or later, and it chose today of all days to do so. The evacuation was quick, maybe even quicker than the first one, but there was one difference this time around. Today was also the day that a couple Melusines had come in Monsieur Neuvillette's place, delivering some reports to Wriothesley while also taking this time to speak with Sigewinne.
"Where are they?" The Duke grits his teeth, running through every area he can reach. You weren't far behind, having insisted a second pair of eyes was better than one. When another room turned up empty he slammed his first into the wall, cursing loudly.
You did another look through in the places he missed before sighing, placing a hand on his chest, "We'll find them Wrio. Take a deep breath, please." He stares at you for a moment, doing as you suggested. You offer a small smile, "There aren't many rooms left, they've gotta be here."
"I know," he sighs, running a hand through his messy hair, "but we're running out of time."
Just as he says that the building rumbles and shakes, the sound of a pipe bursting in the distance sending fear through your body. All it takes is a shared look for you two to start running again, eyes and ears sharp as you try to catch even the slightest signs of life.
There were only two rooms left to check when you heard a call, not by a Melusine but by a pair of inmates. Turning to look, your stress levels spike.
“Shit, this isn’t good,” Wriothesley mutters, surveying the situation the moment you both made it over. One of the inmates was trapped underneath a metal panel, and his buddy wasn’t strong enough to lift it off him on his own.
They plead for help and you can see the cool grey eyes of your lover start to unfocus, a million thoughts passing through his mind. Time is running out, and as he's internally about to lose his cool the sound of your voice brings him back.
Laying a hand on his shoulder you squeeze firmly, "Listen, how about we split up? You deal with this and I go find the Melusines. We'll be faster that way."
His eyes widen at your proposition, and he doesn't even have to think twice about denying, "Now, hold on just a-!"
Another tremor, and you have to harden your tone to get your point across, “We don’t have time Wriothesley, help them and I’ll search the two rooms. When you’re done get them out of here, I won’t be far behind!”
He wants to say no, wants you to get to the surface and he'll take care of the inmate and missing Melusines, but as he looks at the crumbling Fortress he finds himself biting his lips before nodding. "You better stay safe, or else."
You smile, turning and disappearing into the second last room. A quick search proves nothing and when you leave you see your husband beginning to pull out the stuck inmate. You're able to meet gazes for a moment only to break it off, rushing into the last room.
It's easy to spot the brightly coloured blue beings amongst the dreary Fortress walls. "Thank Archons!" You sigh, almost tripping over your feet in your hurry to get them, scooping them up in your arms, "we have to go now you two!"
There's a groan of metal and the clatter of something collapsing in the distance, and it's safe to say you didn't waste time sprinting out of there. As you pass where you last saw your husband, there's a momentary wave of relief at seeing him no longer lingering there. You know then that he's gotten out, and that he's probably waiting anxiously for you.
The thought pushes you to get out faster, jumping over any puddles that have formed or debris. But just because you can jump doesn't mean you can dodge.
One piece then two fell from above, but when you look up dread courses through you upon the realization that a good section of the roof is about to drop. You acted before you could fully think and tossed the two tiny beings in your arms, sprinting just a little faster before leaping yourself. You're glad you managed to throw them out of the collapse zone, but you weren't so lucky, your leg getting trapped from midway to your knee and down under the pile of rubble. All it took was one attempt at tugging your leg out to know it was stuck under there good.
"Go," you pointed in the direction of the exit, immediately beginning to dig yourself out. The least you could do was get them to safety. The Melusines however hesitated, looking at each other before looking at you again. You knew they weren't strong enough to lift anything off you, so you repeated the one-word order, adding that you'd be right behind them.
You hear more than you see them run off, and after a minute of struggling you manage to free yourself, continuing towards the exit.
Wriothesley didn't stick around the entrance, instead busying himself with checking on everyone. If he didn't then he'd go mad and rush back in to get you. As he made another round he spotted the two creatures of the sea clutching onto the Iudex, their heads buried in his neck. If they were safe, then you must've made it out too, right?
Wriothesley gives the order to close the Fortress of Meropide off completely, and he watches unaware as he cages you in. It's only by chance that, once he's almost to the surface, he looks out the window of his escape submarine and through one of the windows of the Fortress. The horror sets in.
Even if it's useless, you stumble and limp up to the glass, banging on it, screaming for him. You're not sure what he'd do though, maybe you just wanted to see him one last time, wanted to tell him you love him, that it's not his fault. You stare at him, tears streaming down your face before turning your back to the ocean and sliding down to the ground.
Even if he can't hear you, you whisper out your love for him, how you'd never hold this against him. You pray to the Archons, to the Traveler, to Neuvillette, to Clorinde to watch over him for you.
You eye the rising water, and to make it just a little more bearable you pretend it's the first time you got Wriothesley to go swimming with you. You had dip your toes in first, as a show that the water wouldn't bite. He wasn't scared of the water, and he knew how to swim; he wasn't ashamed of the scars on his body either. No, he refused to go swimming back then because he didn't want to freeze, and it took you and the trust he placed in your word to tell him the water was perfect.
So, you repeat that same action, imagining Wriothesley is right beside you like that day years ago.
From the water pod, your husband watches frozen as you vanish in an instant, continuing to watch as the water rises until it's above the height of the glass. In that single moment, most of the warmth in his heart vanishes along with you.
"You promised you'd be safe... I trusted you..."
It was the first and last time any prisoner would see the almighty Wriothesley cry out, for he swore sometime later that he'd close off his heart and never let anyone get as close as you did. He knows deep down that's not what you'd want, but he knew he could never go through the same pain again and still continue to live.
———
Zhongli, who you were fighting side by side with.
It's always been like that, you and him up in arms against the world. It was like that in the Archon War, in the Cataclysm and any other time someone threatened the safety of the Lord of Geo's territory. You had his back and he had yours, something that only grew stronger as your relationship developed from war buddies to friends then finally to lovers.
It was... naive of you both to think that you'd be able to spend eternity together without issue. You were too blinded by the fact that you were both going to withstand time and he believed that there was no way he'd fail to protect you, not with the strength he possessed.
Your downfall was not due to time or a lack of strength, but rather your own desire to keep the man you love safe from harm.
Zhongli did not see the sword pierce your skin, but he did hear the strangled cry you let out. He felt the fear wash over him, he saw the bloody aftermath as you fell forward into him, no longer able to hold yourself upright.
Instinctively he wraps his arms around you, sinking to the grass with you. Crimson stains his hands and clothes fast as if the wound was his own and he knows right then that your time together is limited.
The pain you feel is searing and with each breath you take you're fighting to keep that air in your lungs long enough to get more. Your husband spoke softly as he stroked your shoulder, "Why did you take the hit for me?"
When you looked up into his warm, amber eyes you knew then that this was the last time he'd hold you, the last time you'd speak with one another. How interesting it is that you both realized at different points that this was the end.
"You..." you cough, body trembling in his hold and Zhongli almost regrets asking you to speak. He just wants to make you comfortable in your last moments, to act as if everything is okay. "You... were going to get hurt."
The man you knew to never weep lets a single tear slide down his face, a light chuckle getting stuck in his throat, "ah, how like you to put me above yourself. I'm the same way with you, so I suppose I can't point fingers, now can I?"
“No… you can’t,” you smile back, but it’s tough to force it through the pain. You cough again and this time a little blood comes up as well.
It’s getting harder and harder to breathe as the seconds tick by. “Morax.”
The former Archon stiffens; you rarely ever call him by his real name unless you're serious about something. "Yes, my dear? What is it?" When he sees you trying to lift your hand to his cheek, Zhongli dips his head, placing his own hand over yours.
Glazed eyes watch as you swallow, stuttering on your own breath, "I'm... I'm very proud of the man you've become compared to the Archon I first met. I'm very proud of the things you've done for Liyue, and I'm grateful for the things you've done for me."
Your eyes droop a little, and he knows your time to depart is near when he sees you rest your head against him more and with the way he has to hold up your hand for it to stay resting on his cheek. He swears he won't let you slip away until you've said your final peace.
"I... I need you to promise me something Morax."
"You know I will always do my best to honour your wishes," he tells you, his grip tightening on your hand. A sudden breeze picks up, blowing his hair in such an elegant way that your face softens, never not amazed by his beauty. Tranquillity washes over you, and it may sound crazy, but the scent the wind brought to you smelt like home, like a simpler time in your life.
All other sounds are drowned out, the wind blowing them far away so he could hear you clearly, "You have to find happiness again... even though I won't be there for you. Can... can you promise me that?"
He pulls you impossibly closer, removing your hand just to place a gentle kiss on your palm before returning it to its place, "I promise." In that moment he feels like he's lied to you, for he believes he'll never truly recover from your death, but that doesn't mean he won't try for you. And as you smile up at him for the last time, Morax feels that he could live with his answer to you.
Much like his friends of old, he knows he'll see you in the little things around the city - a lantern, a blooming flower, a cup of tea, the fires in fireplaces - as if you're watching over him. He'll continue to walk forward as everything passes him by, mingling with the ever-changing people and culture and surrounding himself with friends, because that's what he promised you, and he wants you to see that even when you're not by his side to experience it yourself.
"I'm happy now, see? But I will never be as happy as I was with you"
Tag list (both regular and event exclusive): @spoopy-fish-writes // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @kaeyaloml // @x-zho // @mariposa666haruka // @quackquackmfs // @kunikuzushiii // @genshin-impact-writings // @ventisweetheart // @lordbugs @leena-shi // @ari-the-wr1ter // @xiaos-wife // @milkwithspiceyicecubes // @stygianoir // @francisnyx
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@kaiserkisser // @multipleshadesofblue // @moloteco-real // @kithewanderingme // @scaramood
#val’s nsn#genshin impact#genshin x reader#diluc x reader#childe x reader#cyno x reader#ayato x reader#wriothesley x reader#zhongli x reader#genshin angst#genshin x reader angst#diluc x gender neutral reader#childe x gender neutral reader#cyno x gender neutral reader#ayato x gender neutral reader#wriothesley x gender neutral reader#zhongli x gender neutral reader#ayato x you#diluc x you#childe x you#cyno x you#wriothesley x you#zhongli x you
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The idea of Crowley previously being a very powerful angel and still carrying around shards of that power is just so delicious to me. I'm a sucker for characters who aren't at all what they used to be. Underdogs who were obviously once a Big Deal, and you can't see it most of the time, until some improbable bit of classified knowledge or mention of higher connections leaks out. Especially if they really don't like to talk about it or dwell on who they were, if for one reason or another, they want to leave it all in the past.
I have had a feeling about Crowley since season 1. His position on Hell's hierarchy is relatively low, so it's not immediately apparent at first. But things stood out. How he bends reality to his will without seeming to even think about it, sometimes even without realizing. He decides it would be funnier if the paint guns were real guns, but also makes sure no one actually gets shot. This seems to take no effort or concentration on his part; it's done almost offhandedly. Or how he drives the Bentley through a wall of fire, keeping it from falling apart by sheer determination, while the much higher-ranking demon in the seat next to him is discorporated in seconds. Almost as impressive is how he negotiates London traffic, which from what I've heard is a borderline miraculous feat normally, let alone at 90 miles per hour.
And of course, the time stopping. Something even Aziraphale apparently isn't capable of. Something that, with a particularly fierce effort, literally stops Satan in his tracks. The sort of power wielded by a cosmic engineer who once needed it to do his job - 'I helped build that one,' he says, eyes a little distant as stares at a picture of a nebula - and he still carries it with him, skulking around on Earth, far from the cosmos he helped to create. Having let go of most of the rest, even the memories of it, burying them with the person he used to be. He's changed who he is but he can't change what he is, and if you cracked open that lowly serpent, you'd be blinded by the starlight within.
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— NOISE COMPLAINT ; eijiro kirishima ; 切島
summary: red riot feels really bad about absolutely wrecking the shit out of your treasured plants, or eijiro kirishima falls in love at first sight. pairing: f!reader / pro hero!red riot word count: 3.7k tags: mutual pining, fluff/comfort, humor, very gentlemanly make-out, reader is a fan of red riot, mention of ingenium thirst (truth) a/n: kiri might be a twenty-seven year old pro hero in this fic but he is an absolute lovesick virgin who gets all his romantic cues from k-dramas. you cannot force me to think otherwise.
This is exactly the sort of night you needed.
The television, low and quiet, drones on as a deep-dive video on terrariums plays. Your apartment is clean — dishes done, laundry folded and trash taken out. There's a new candle burning on the coffee table, and a Dynamight-themed, cucumber-melon eye mask plastered to your delightedly thoughtless expression.
It's supposed to be good for dark circles. It kinda burns. You wonder if maybe that's, like, part of the gimmick. Y'know. Burns. Dynamight.
Whatever.
No thoughts. Only the pleasure of turning everything off — brain included — for a perfect Friday night, complete with a mediocre glass of wine and no pants.
The oversized Red Riot t-shirt clinging to your frame is your favorite. You've had it since college — it's a simple red tee with REAL MEN RIOT blazoned across the front, complete with your favorite hero popping a cheeky, shark-like grin and a double bicep. It's faded, stretched out, and broken in but it's also clean, and it smells like fabric softener and comfort.
This is the life.
Even Twitter is decidedly pretty calm tonight.
You're scrolling through your timeline, snickering at your friends' recent thirst tweets over Ingenium's recent GQ Japan shoot when it starts.
Apparently, your upstairs neighbors are home.
You thought those guys were out of town for the week.
You've had beautiful, silent bliss for too long. The buck stops tonight, you suppose.
There's a shout overhead, then a scramble. Another voice joins the fray, and you swear you hear someone call someone else an idiot. You frown deeply as your eyes trail upwards. You wait, expecting more noise, but unsettling silence follows.
Your eye twitches.
Annoyance tips into a simmering rage.
The apartment complex is old. It's in decent shape, and the rent isn't half bad, but the walls are thin. Your upstairs neighbors have been like this as long as you can remember: shouting, stomping, fighting... Some nights it's like being subjected to musical chairs, modern contemporary tap dance, and experimental sound drum solos all at once.
Your first week was the worst. You dragged yourself up the back to knock on their door and politely negotiate some silence — but the man who opened the door was less than pleased to have his little dude-bro circle-jerk interrupted. He told you to fuck off, get bent, and leave him the fuck alone.
Then, before he slammed the door in your face, he procured the sort of audacity only assholes possessed and laughed at your Red Riot shirt — which is just plain unforgivable, frankly.
"That guy's a fuckin' pussy."
Sure, sure, sure, right, right, right.
The interaction told you everything you needed to know about the two (or four?) men who lived upstairs. They were losers. And they were fuckin' annoying.
And, as it turns out, manufacturing bad batches of Trigger.
You don't know that yet, but truth be told it isn't exactly shocking.
Maybe it's your fault for picking an apartment complex in this part of Tokyo. This part of Arawaka Ward is rarely found on those top-ten-neighborhoods-for-young-professionals lists, but it's affordable! And for day laborers like you, it worked. And hey, in recent months, the crime rate has gone down at least 5% — which only quelled the anxieties of your mom and dad by about the same percentage.
The candle on the coffee table flickers, and you're about to turn back to your slow Twitter feed when there's another bang upstairs — this one admittedly loud enough to send a wave through your wine beside you. You slip your eyes slowly to the glass, perched on a coaster, as another bang rattles your apartment. You reach to still the vibrating glass on the side table.
That's when the shouting really starts.
And it's when you notice the growing brightness of red and blue lights outside the window.
The apartment complex is pretty big. There are about sixty residents and six floors. You lucked out and managed to snagone of the last available Western-facing studios with a balcony — which made for a perfect plant haven.
It was a recent hobby, but one that quickly became your calm after the chaos of the day-to-day. Working for the city's Heroics Response Department left you picking up the physical pieces (literally) of a lot of lives. Your quirk might be the usual, run-of-the-mill strength-based ability, but it comes in handy in the aftermath of property damage due to — what the Nation's Safety Commission has labeled — "villain-aggressed encounters".
All in all, it's a good gig. It's physically demanding but rewarding. The pay is good, you've got union benefits, and you even have a per-diem schedule. It keeps you busy, and though it's not your father's construction business, it's a career path your parents are proud of.
The slice-of-heaven balcony is bustling with plants. Some are happier than others, sure, but it's pretty. You've admittedlyformed an emotional bond with those vines, leaves, and flowers.
It's perfect.
It's also perfect for snooping whenever things like this go down in your complex, or the sister complex across the parking lot.
The shouting match upstairs is escalating, and you take the moment to tip-toe towards your balcony door to peek outside. It looks like two or three police cruisers have pulled up outside. Maybe someone called for a noise complaint? Maybe the property manager was tired of dealing with those losers?
Cackling to yourself, and hoping for a vindicating show of revenge (NO ONE CALLS RED RIOT A PUSSY), you yank open your balcony door and slip outside just as the sound of a pot crashing meets your ears.
Then:
"Shit, shit, shit—"
There's someone on the balcony. That someone's boot is currently stuck in an empty terracotta pot you were saving for spring. Your eyes are wide as you watch the shadow leap to his other foot, lose his balance, and unceremoniously knock over your entire, six-foot-tall, and well-treasured plant stand. You slap a hand over your mouth mid-shriek, hands flying to try and save whatever you can.
You fail.
Eijiro Kirishima freezes.
What the fu—
It takes a second.
Like, a full second. Maybe even two. Your brain can't make sense of the sight before you. Neither can his, really.
There's a girl on this balcony. A pretty girl. Like, mega pretty. Like soft and warm and cute and you smell kinda like vanilla — and there's... You're wearing his merch. His merch and... nothing else. Nothing else but a Dynamight eye mask and a pair of fluffy socks.
...Is this what it's like to fall in love at first sight?
Shit.
Red Riot is on your balcony.
The Red Riot.
Red Riot, the hero in question, catches himself staring. His wide eyes openly wander over your figure (woah, okay, hello thighs), and the second he realizes it, he quickly snaps his eyes up to your face with a mortified expression. "Uh... hi!"
"...Hi...?"
Your expression is tied between shame, fear, and sheepishness as you blink once at him, then twice at the mess of your hobby's destruction. There's dirt everywhere, a plant stand blocking the doorway, and carnage. Your precious babies have been murdered.
By Red Riot.
And... Red Riot is on your balcony.
You repeat: Red Riot is on your balcony.
Abort mission, abort mission.
Your lips part, your mouth hangs open, and every single thought in your head seems to stutter. Kirishima winces as you look down dejectedly at your plants (or, what remains) before he speaks.
"I, uh— is it cool if I..." he points upwards, "Use your balcony?"
You're speechless.
You draw your mouth shut and nod hurriedly.
"Thanks," he grins, giving you a thumbs up — and a smile. A toothy, cute, nervous smile, "Lemme just... I gotta handle something. B-But, I'll be back. I'll help fix this mess — just... five minutes, okay?"
It hits you suddenly that his voice sounds different from all those interviews you've watched. It's a little warmer, a little raspier, a little less heroic. It's cute.
Your brain is still having a hard time connecting the words coming out of his mouth to the scene before you — like, yes frontal lobe, this is real. This is happening.
Red Riot is real and Red Riot is on your balcony.
He's shockingly gentle when he finally frees his boot from your terracotta pot, setting it down with purposeful delicacy — he even whispers 'please stay' as he props it upright — and then steps back to eye the balcony above yours like an athlete remembering a gameplan.
He's trying to figure out the best way up.
How he even got up here is news to you.
(It was Uravity, as it turns out. They've been patrolling together more in this Ward.)
Red Riot is huge. Like, huge.
Broad shoulders, rippling biceps, and long, fluffy crimson hair. It's daunting to realize how tall he is in person. The guy is a beast — everyone knows it — but his chivalrous nature is that thing that usually draws in his fans. It's no secret that Red Riot is sweet. He openly champions the need to be a good role model for men everywhere. Y'know, you can be strong and nice!
A sharp canine glints in your apartment's light as he pokes his tongue out and thinks for a second.
Then, he settles on his plan.
"You might wanna head inside," Red Riot says as he rolls his shoulders and bounces on the balls of his feet; he's readying up for a fight — and you blink as the beautiful realization dawns on you, "This could get kinda loud."
Loud?
Oh my god.
Is he here for your upstairs neighbors?
Oh my god, he is.
Your jaw falls open as you bark out a laugh — it's an incredulous rasp that sends you into a spiral of joy; you're not a vengeful person by any means but...
"They're gonna shit themselves," you grin, your eyes alight with pure delight and a spark of something that reminds Kirishima a lot little bit of Bakugo, "They called you a pussy—"
Kirishima's brows shoot upwards as he pauses. He was about to jump and dig his hands into the underside of the balcony, but his quirk is stalling at your words. There's a roaring fire blazing in your eyes, one that screams retribution.
It's... comical.
You cackle again at him with a wide grin, hissing conspiratorily. "They made fun of my shirt!"
You point down at the REAL MEN RIOT tee with both hands, your face set in a look of vindicated glee. Then, the second realization of the night hits — that you've got no pants on, and that stupid, goofy Dynamight eye mask is still on your face. You make a soft sound of embarrassment and tug your shirt down lower, trying to cover up. He cannot see your underwear. No. No way, no fucking way. Without a single word, you reach up, snatch the Dynamight eye mask off your face, and whip it off the balcony without a second thought.
Slowly, Kirishima's face splits into a pointy grin.
Holy shit, he's so fucking hot.
"Oh, man," Red Riot rumbles, his face cracking into a sharp, playful smirk, "That's real rude. I might have t' teach these guys some manners."
Your smile returns, washing away the wobbly look of embarrassment sticking to your cheeks.
Man, it sure is cute.
You are really cute, Kirishima realizes.
"Right! And who calls Red Riot a pussy?" you counter excitedly, before reigning it in and awkwardly lowering your arms as you try to tug your shirt down to hide the tops of your thighs again. Your glee has stifled a little bit, but it only reaffirms Kirishima's duty to wrap this all up.
"Yea, that's, like, super misogynistic," he muses as his quirk kicks in and his hands flick into a hardened state. It's insaneto witness the way his large hands transform into weapons with a single breath. You can see the jagged extension of his quirk working up his large arms, too, "Lemme just have a lil' word with these boys, alright? Head on inside, I'll be back in a sec'."
Then, with graceful ease, he hops upwards with a little hup before latching to the base of the upstairs neighbor's balcony.
It's insane how effortless it is for him to haul himself up the balcony, his hands dug into the cement. His upper body strength is insane. He's scaling the terrace, alternating his grip. He disappears into the dark, swinging his body upwards and reaching his destination.
You tamp down your awe in favor of heeding his directions: head inside.
You're closing the balcony door when you hear Red Riot's voice greet the unexpecting gaggle.
"Hey, fellas! I heard you guys are some super fans. Got anything you want me to sign?"
You snicker to yourself as you hear the beginning of a fight.
Again, as it turns out, the guys upstairs sucked. Like, mega sucked. They'd been responsible for several recent Trigger overdoses; Uravity and Red Riot were working with law enforcement to track the small-time manufacturers — which explains why they'd been so quiet lately. They suspected someone was on their tail.
As Red Riot scaled their balcony, law enforcement waited to break down their door. They arrested the four men (Seriously? Four? In that studio?) without much incident — however, you did spy a broken nose on one of them as they were hauled into the back of the awaiting cruisers.
Sweet, sweet revenge.
By the time your neighbors are carted off, you've shimmed into some sweats and made a half-assed attempt to look sort ofpresentable, all while firing off a few contextually incomprehensible texts into your group chat.
red riot has seen me in my underwear wtf do i do know kiss him?
You're really weighing your options when there's a knock on your balcony entry. It's gentle and cordial. You turn, head snapping, and spy that trademarked (and a dozen times retweeted) smile through the glass. He waves.
Your heart leaps into your throat. You try to remember to breathe as you shuffle over and tug the balcony door open. The night air is cool.
Be like the night air.
Stay cool.
Eijiro feels so silly. And guilty. And honestly? Really into you.
You're still wearing that shirt — the one with his face on it. You have opted to put on pants, but Kirishima still reminds himself to keep his eyes on your face. No ogling. That's not very gentlemanly.
There's a beat of awkward silence as the two of you wait for the other to speak, and Kirishima is the one to break it with a raspy laugh.
"I wanted to apologize about your plants," a large hand moves to rub the back of his neck, "I cleaned up as best I could. I'm really, really sorry."
You wave him off, leaning into the doorframe. "No, it's okay! It's nothing I can't... fix. I think?"
You look beyond him to the catastrophic mess of plant matter. He must have tried tidying up while you rattled off the rapid-fire texts in the group chat.
Red Riot's face warbles into something tied between mortification and guilt. "Please forgive me."
"Seriously!" you cry, waving your hands as you try to placate his dejected expression, "Please don't feel bad. It's a fair trade, y'know. Those guys upstairs were, like, the worst."
"I can only imagine," Eijiro concedes, frowning a little, "They didn't give you too much trouble, did they?"
You shake your head and laugh a little, "Aside from insulting my favorite hero to my face? Not really."
Kirishima can feel his face get a little hot. He shifts from boot to boot. His smile is a little woozy. "So... you're a fan?"
You don't need to tell him the underwear you have on matches the shirt — red, with an embroidered RR on the front. You keep that to yourself. You just nod happily.
"Really?" his grin cracks into something so excitable it makes your entire stomach flip, "I don't meet a lotta fans who are..."
His words drift off.
He's staring at your eyes. You're so... soft. Warm. Your eyes are swirling with quiet, astonished adoration and it's making Kirishima feel like he's floating.
"Who are...?" your brow quirks as you lean deeper into the doorframe, trying to coax out the rest of the sentence.
"Gorgeous," he breathes, his posture relaxing a little as he soaks in your expression.
It's like getting sucker punched to the sternum.
All the wind rushed out of your lungs.
The soft moment only lasts a beat, because suddenly Red Riot's face screws up and he waves his hands hurriedly. "Wait, no. Hold on, I mean — all of my fans are gorgeous, because, uh, they're my fans and I love them, right? It's not like they're not gorgeous, I just — I'm... I... My fans are, like, usually dudes? A-And that's totally cool because dudes can be gorgeous, too, y'know? But—"
You're laughing.
Kirishima is realizing he was not paying enough attention in his agency's PR training last month and you're laughing.
"I get it," you giggle, crossing your arms and grinning up at him, "I mean, I definitely don't think I'm gorgeous but—"
"You are," he assures firmly, his expression serious.
Are you dead?
Are you, like, literally ascending to a higher plane right now?
There's no fucking way this is happening.
Your lips part in quiet shock as you bite back a smile that threatens to cramp up your cheeks. Kirishima eats it up, his posture perking up at the way you seem to melt at his compliment. His smile is boyish — almost dizzy.
You duck a bashful look towards the tiled floor of the balcony, not really giving a singular shit that your beloved monstera has been stomped on.
Kirishima clears his throat, then — in a move he totally hasn't swooned over in those K-dramas he's secretly obsessed with, that'd be ridiculous — he props his arm up against your door and leans over you. Your faces are close in the warm light of the balcony.
Your eyes stutter up his abdomen, chest, jaw, lips, and eyes. Kirishima notices. It's really, really cute.
"Are you, uh... Are you seeing anyone?"
Of course, Red Riot would ask that. Red Riot, the king of chivalry. How is something like that so endearing? For the tenth time tonight, he makes your stomach flip.
You shake your head no, a little too stunned to speak.
"Cool," Eijiro musters over a shake of nerves, "Cool. Okay. Uh, then would it... would it be okay if I bought you some new plants?"
You nod, swallowed entirely by his shadow. He's so fucking huge.
"And if I took you to dinner?"
Another nod.
"...And — shit. You're, like, so cute," the smooth persona he's put on melts a little as his eyes roam your face; you feel so... shy, "I was gonna ask you something else but..."
"My number?" you offer, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you maintain eye contact.
Is it hot? You're sweating. Is he sweating? He's hot.
Eijiro nods, absolutely mesmerized by the way you tug your lip between your teeth. "That. Yea."
He has to fight back the urge to bite his knuckle when you turn away and move towards your kitchen to snag your phone. Kirishima stays put, allowing himself one moment of ogling. When you turn around, he's clearing his throat and crossing a boot over his ankle.
He's still leaning up against the doorway.
"Here," you slip him the phone.
Eiijiro takes it — then hesitates for a second.
"...You're not gonna leak my number, are you?"
You have to laugh. You rub your cheek and shake your head before crossing your arms and looking up at him. "If you think I'm going to do anything to fumble this, you're wrong."
Fumble this? Fumble him? He's the one that is at risk of fumbling, are you serious?
Eijiro barks out a surprised laugh as he enters his number, shoots a quick text his way then ignores the buzz in his back pocket. He hands your phone back and tries so fucking hard to ignore the way your fingers brush his.
He got your number.
Holy shit, he got your number.
"Hey, Red Riot?"
He blinks down at you. "Y-Yea?"
You gesture for him to come closer, and he obeys easily — he bends a bit at the waist, his hair falling along his shoulders as he smiles down at you in the threshold of your apartment.
"Is everything alri—?"
You pop a chaste kiss against his cheek.
Or, try.
As you hop up onto your tippy toes to kiss his cheek, Eijiro is turning his head at the sound of Urvaity calling his name simultaneously. Trajectory failed, and now it's lips and lips instead of lips on cheek — and honestly? He owes Ochaco one for this.
Red Riot melts — actually, truly, genuinely melts. His posture slumps down as you let out a shocked little sound of apology. But, Eijiro doesn't mind, and fuck, neither do you — because one hand braces against the doorframe above your head while his other hand is suddenly on your waist. He steadies himself, and damn. Damn.
He breaks away when Uravity calls his name again. Kirishima is breathless and blushing, and your knees feel like jello.
"I... Uh, I gotta go—"
"Yea, totally," you breathe, swallowing down the burn of unfiltered attraction, "Sorry, I was trying to kiss your cheek—"
Another call of his name. Red Riot curses softly before hollering a 'COMING!' over his shoulder, out past the edge of the balcony.
When he turns back, he's fast to sweep you into another kiss — this one hotter than before. This one draws you into his chest, sending your hands colliding with the hot skin of his chest. There's muscle and scars and heat beneath your fingertips. His hand curls around your lower back, and you nearly moan.
He peels himself away with an apologetic look as he backs towards the edge of the balcony. "I gotta go — I'll text you once patrol is over. Is that okay? I'm serious about the plants. And dinner."
All you can do is nod.
Eijiro is kinda proud of himself for stunning you stupid with that kiss.
This is exactly the sort of night you needed.
#noise complaint#kirishima eijirou#kirishima eijiro x reader#kirishima x reader#kirishima x you#red riot x reader#red riot imagine#mha imagine#bnha imagine#kirishima imagine#kirishima one shot#GUYS THIS WAS... THE CUTEST SHIT#SORRY I AM FOREVER A KIRI GIRL
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Unraveled
Summary: It was all fun and games until Loki started wearing that goddamn sweater.
Pairing: Loki x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, dirty talk, praise kink, teasing, orgasm delay, sex, vaginal fingering, godly refractory periods, kitchen sex, semi public sex, Loki in a sweater.
A/N: My explanation for this one is that I saw too many pictures of Tom Hiddleston in a sweater and it gave me thoughts.
Being an Avenger has made you pretty good at rolling with the punches. After your third or fourth encounter with some alien/wizard/android bullshit, your perspective is fundamentally altered and real life seems manageable in a way that it didn’t before. You have to call your insurance company to dispute a claim? Big deal, you’ve negotiated with terrorists; you can handle Garth from Member Services.
The thing is, having that kind of perspective means that the things that do get to you can rattle you a lot more than they should. Natasha had warned you about that, but you were riding high on the thrill of successfully conquering Blue Cross Blue Shield and you kind of got to thinking she was exaggerating.
And then the seasons started to turn and Loki started wearing that goddamn sweater.
You can recognize when someone is out of your league. When you first moved into the Tower, it had been relatively easy for you to assign Loki to that category: he was a god. He’d been featured in last month’s GQ. You were mortal and your most recent press had been a TMZ story featuring unflattering paparazzi photos of you leaving a bodega in your pajamas at seven o’clock in the morning, a bagel halfway into your mouth. You were clearly not the same.
Up until the sweater, you’d managed to keep your cool around Loki and keep your attraction confined to daydreams and the occasional surreptitious lustful glance. Hell, you’d even had the nerve to be proud of yourself for keeping your shit together in front of him.
The sweater lays waste to all of that.
On the surface, it doesn’t seem like a sweater that is capable of completely destroying your carefully constructed composure. It’s a fairly standard crew neck in a deep green so dark it almost looks black at a first glance. But on Loki it just…does things to you. The fabric is well fitted, clinging to his biceps, pulling taut across his chest, emphasizing the line of his pectorals. It somehow accentuates how muscular he is while also still making him look lean and lithe.
The first time he wears it, you find your eyes just trail to him of their own volition, like an incredibly horny moth to the flame. It’s a day of catching yourself staring, panicking, pretending that you were actually looking at something else, and then repeating the process five minutes later when your gaze inevitably wandered again. It almost would have been funny if it didn’t put your blood pressure into the stratosphere.
To make matters worse, at the end of that day’s debriefing, he rises from his chair and raises his arms to the ceiling in a long stretch. The hem of the sweater creeps up, exposing the firm, flat muscles of his stomach, lightly dusted with a trail of hair that meanders in a tantalizing path down to his belt buckle.
You promptly choke on your own spit. Clint claps you hard on the back and asks if you’re okay, which is a question you don’t know how to answer (ultimately, you stick to a thumbs up and mumble something about dust getting caught in your throat). Loki is too preoccupied complaining about the entire concept of office furniture to notice. Or at least you’re pretty sure he doesn’t notice.
You might have been okay if that had been the only incident, but the sweater makes a repeat appearance on Friday. The following Tuesday features the deadly combination of the sweater with a pair of tight, dark wash jeans that nearly send you into cardiac arrest. Your fantasies suddenly become much more frequent and detailed.
You are not really sure what to do about this—it’s not like you can talk to anyone about it, nor can you ask him to stop wearing it without prompting some very uncomfortable questions. The idea that you’ll get used to it is laughable.
You look at your calendar and note that spring is six months away. At least.
Fucking hell.
*
It’s a Saturday afternoon and in a strange quirk of scheduling, almost everyone is out of town for a mission or a personal obligation, leaving the Tower unusually quiet. As much as you enjoy the daily clatter and chaos that comes with living here, you find a lot of comfort in these moments of quiet, however infrequent they may be.
You intended to make yourself a late afternoon snack. That was the plan, anyway. But as you’re standing at the kitchen counter and cutting up the fruit you just washed, you realize that you’re not entirely alone. From this vantage point, you can see Loki lounging on the couch in the next room and reading.
He’s wearing the sweater. Of course he’s wearing the sweater. And the so-tight-they-should-be-illegal dark wash jeans.
Goddammit.
You have the sense to set the knife down at least. The last thing you need is a trip to the hospital because you got too distracted by your hot colleague while handling a knife.
You let your gaze travel along the firm muscles of his chest. It’s just a sweater. It shouldn’t look this good. It shouldn’t prompt these kinds of thoughts. And yet…
He shifts on the couch and the hem of the sweater creeps up. His hand drops to his belt buckle. It’s entirely appropriate, but the way his long, long fingers are splayed against his stomach makes your mind drop straight to the gutter and wonder what they’d look like wrapped around his rock hard co—
“You know, it’s rude to stare.”
His voice comes from behind you and adrenaline surges through you like an electric shock. The Loki on the couch looks up at you and smirks before disappearing in a shimmer of green.
You wonder if it’s possible to die of embarrassment and a heart attack all at the same time. It certainly feels like you’re about to.
You take a deep breath and try to collect yourself, which feels largely futile. Come on, get it together. You’ve negotiated with terrorists and insurance companies. Shake it off.
You slowly turn around, cheeks burning. Loki is standing right behind you, arms folded across his chest. You swallow.
“I um. I was—I was just…” Words escape you as your brain fires in every direction except a helpful one.
“You were just what?” His expression is intense, but you’re not sure that he’s angry.
“Spacing out,” you say, trying to infuse your voice with confidence that you absolutely do not feel.
He places his hands on the counter behind you, intentionally caging you in with his body. You are overwhelmed by the scent of him—a masculine, wintery musk that makes you want to bury your face against his chest.
“Try again,” he says. His voice is deep enough to rattle your bones.
You swallow. Everything you could possibly say seems wildly inadequate.
Loki has never been one to be at a loss for words, though, and after a moment of terrified silence from you, he continues speaking.
“I’ve noticed something curious over these past few weeks,” he says. “When I wear this sweater, you can’t seem to take your eyes off of me.”
Your heart is pounding. Fucking hell. Have you really been that obvious?
“Now why is that?” he asks, his voice a low purr.
You briefly consider trying to lie again, but the piercing green of his eyes instantly makes you rethink it. “I um…” You swallow hard. “It’s just…it suits you. You…you look good.”
He raises an eyebrow. “I look good?”
You nod.
“Interesting.” His lips twitch in a slight smirk as he looks you up and down. “And how does that make you feel?”
Your heart thuds in your chest, your stomach contorting with a strange combination of fear and desire. You’re still humiliated, but the sound of his voice and the dark intensity of his gaze is intoxicating and incredibly arousing.
“I don’t—I don’t know how to answer that question.”
“Oh, I think you do.” There’s a rawness in his voice that makes your cunt clench.
You shake your head, eyes wide. You’re pretty sure he’s not really mad, but you also don't know where this is going. Surely he’s not making a pass at you…right?
“How does it make you feel to see me in this sweater?” he continues, his voice a low whisper. He pauses for a moment and when you don’t answer, he continues. “Does it…arouse you, perhaps?”
Holy fuck.
This can’t be happening.
You try to think of something clever or sexy, but the bluntness of the question and the fire in his eyes kills whatever remaining brain cells you have left. Mutely, you nod.
There’s that smirk again as he licks his lips. “Are you wet right now?”
Your cheeks burn. You give the tiniest nod possible.
“Hmm.” His hand alights on the button of your jeans. “I believe you Midgardians have a saying that is appropriate here: trust, but verify.” He slips the button free and your heart pounds like a war drum in your chest.
You cannot believe this is happening.
“You haven’t been entirely truthful in this conversation.” His palm presses flat against your stomach, the tips of his fingers slipping under the waistband of your underwear. “So I’m afraid I’m going to have to see for myself.”
His hand is achingly slow, creeping lower and lower. He watches you intently as his hand cups your sex, seemingly cataloging the way your breath hitches and all the little shivers that run through you.
His middle finger finally slides between your folds and you can’t help but moan.
“Oh, you did lie to me,” he growls, his index finger joining his middle, both sliding up to circle your clit. “You’re not wet, you’re soaked.”
Your legs are already starting to tremble and you grab on to his shoulders to try and steady yourself. The fabric of the sweater is softer than a cloud against your hands.
“Sopping wet,” he continues, trapping your right leg between his thighs and the counter, the heavy weight of his erection pressing eagerly against your hip. “And this is all for me?”
Wordlessly, you nod. There’s no point in denying it—and you don’t think he wants you to, either.
“What am I going to do about this?” he muses. His index and middle fingers lightly circle your clit again and you whimper.
“Don’t stop,” you gasp. “Please don’t stop.”
“Don’t stop?” he says. His tone is one of light curiosity, like you’re just chatting casually about the weather. “But if I continue, you’re almost certainly going to come.”
“Yes,” you gasp. “Please.”
“Oh, you want me to make you come?” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “Right here in the middle of the kitchen?”
You nod.
“Anyone could walk in, though,” he purrs. “Anyone could come in and see me with my fingers buried in your dripping cunt. What would they think if they saw you so utterly debauched and at my mercy, begging for me to make you come?”
“Don’t care…” you gasp. How are you already so close?
He raises an eyebrow. “You don’t care what they’d think if they saw us like this?”
You shake your head.
“Oh, you must be desperate.” He adjusts his hand, his thumb taking up the rhythm on your clit while his index finger sinks into your slick channel, making you gasp.
“Loki, please—”
“Begging already,” he says, not letting up in his rhythm. “Has it been a long time, sweetheart? When did you last feel this good?”
It’s not a question you can answer. You don’t know that anyone ever has made you feel like this. You moan, your hips bucking hard against his hand.
“Poor thing,” he tuts. “You’re clearly desperate for it. What kinds of filthy thoughts have you had about me?” he purrs. “I’ve seen you staring, I’ve heard your breath hitch. Have you touched yourself while thinking of me?”
You manage a nod and his smile turns feral. “When was the last time?”
“Last…last night,” you gasp.
“How many times did you come?”
“F-Four.”
“Filthy girl.” His free hand slides up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he tips your head back. “Next time, all you have to do is ask.”
His mouth covers yours, his tongue pushing past your lips as he slides a second finger into you. You moan into his mouth as the pressure in your hips increases.
“Oh yes, let me hear all of those pretty noises,” he murmurs. “Are you going to let me fuck you against the counter after I make you come?”
You nod, whimpering.
“Good girl,” he purrs. “I think you need to be fucked properly and hard. Is that what you need?”
“Yes,” you gasp.
“Mmm, that’s what I thought. This cunt is just too wet and needy for any other treatment.” He draws back to look at you more fully, giving you a lazy, hungry smile. “You’re about to lose it all over my fingers, aren’t you?”
Your orgasm is cresting, the tingling pressure in your hips becoming unbearable. You nod, lost for words.
With one more smirk, he curls his fingers inside of you. “Come for me, pretty girl, let me see you.”
Your cunt spasms around his thrusting fingers and your whole body shudders as your orgasm overtakes you, your head tipping back as you cry out.
“Oh, that’s it,” he murmurs, “there’s my good girl.”
A shiver runs through you at his words, your hips still moving against his hand, trying to draw out every last ripple of pleasure.
He kisses you as you come down from your high, and you take the opportunity to run your hands over his chest and tentatively feel the hard planes of muscle that you’ve been staring at these last few weeks. But after a few moments, he takes your hand and guides it to his cock.
His preference for leather pants or those sinfully tight dark wash jeans made you suspect that the size of his ego might actually be proportionate to the size of his cock and your initial assessment seems to confirm that theory. You rub your fingers over the denim that covers his thick shaft, feeling yourself grow even wetter at the low groan he makes in the back of his throat.
“Take my cock out.” His voice is so deep and his eyes are so smoldering, it feels like the command goes straight to your cunt. You are practically trembling with anticipation as your shaking hands make quick work of the button, buckle, and zipper.
You can’t help but suck in a breath when his cock comes into view. He’s long and deliciously thick—big enough to be a little intimidating, but not overwhelmingly so.
He guides your hand to wrap around his shaft. He barely fits in your hand. “Look at what you’ve done to me,” he says, his voice raspy as he guides your hand to stroke his cock. “Feel how hard I am for you, feel how much I want you.”
His cock practically pulses with need, the tip slick with pre-come and you grasp him more firmly, your cunt pulsing as he gives a deeply satisfying groan.
You stroke him from base to tip, squeezing lightly. He groans again. “They told me to stay away from you, you know,” he says.
You aren’t so far gone that you can let this information slip by. “What? Who?”
“Stark. Rogers. Romanoff. My brother.” He reaches behind you and shoves the fruit and cutting board into the side, the knife clattering into the sink. “They saw how I looked at you,” he says. “They saw that I wanted you. They told me you were too good for me. Too sweet.”
You feel your jeans and underwear melt away in a shimmer of green and he lifts you easily onto the counter.
His eyes flash with desire. “I wonder what they’d say if they knew you’d let me fuck you raw in the middle of the kitchen?”
For a brief moment, frustration almost wins out over your lust. “We could have done this sooner?”
His gaze turns serious. “Darling, we could have done this the moment we met, but I’m told a handshake is more appropriate.”
You take a breath, about to embark on a rant about the individuals he’d named and how they hadn’t even asked, they’d just assumed, but Loki puts a hand up against your mouth.
“Don’t make me wait any longer,” he says. There’s a sincerity and a need in his gaze that you’ve never seen before and it’s enough to calm your anger for just a moment.
“Okay,” you say, wrapping your legs around his waist and angling your hips toward his, “but clear your schedule because I’m gonna need you to fuck me a lot to make up for all that time.”
His grin is feral as he pushes into you.
You shiver at the blunt stretch of his cock, your hands gripping his broad shoulders. He indulges in a low groan as his hips press flush against yours.
“If I’d known they were keeping me from this tight cunt, I would’ve done something sooner,” he rasps. “You feel absolutely perfect.”
“Please,” you breathe, “I need—please.”
His hips snap hard against yours and you moan, your head tipping back.
His eyes glitter as he pulls you close, pressing his mouth against your ear. “The next time I have you, I will be sweet and soft.”
“And this time?” you ask, though you think you already know the answer.
“This time—” His mouth presses against the curve of your neck, teeth scraping just this side of too hard against the tender skin. “—I’m going to utterly ruin you.”
His pace is fast and rough—the word possessive comes to mind. You twist the luxurious fabric of his sweater in your hands as his cock hits that sweet, aching spot inside of you, pressing against your sensitive cunt in a way that makes your muscles spasm and clench around him. You moan, a shiver rolling through you as you inch closer to release.
“I’m…fuck, I’m getting close,” you gasp.
His pace abruptly slows and his grin is wide and his eyes are dancing with mirth when he raises his head from your shoulder.
“That was unnecessary,” you say with a scowl.
“Oh, I just want to savor you for a little longer, my love,” he purrs as he settles into an easy and slow pace that still makes your toes curl. “You’re going to take me right over the edge with you and I’ve waited so terribly long to have you.”
“I feel like you’re probably omitting the fact that you like being a tease,” you say.
He grins again, increasing his pace ever so slightly. “Both things can be true.”
He does this a few times—taking up a wicked pace that almost sends you hurtling over the edge, only to slow at the last possible moment, silencing your whimpering protests with a deep and slow kiss that is good enough to make you forgive him until a few minutes later when he does it all over again.
You hold out for as long as you can, but eventually, the ache in your hips overwhelms you.
“Loki,” you breathe when his pace again begins to increase. “Please don’t stop.”
“Don’t stop?” he rasps, somehow finding the concentration to raise an eyebrow. “You’re quite sure?”
You nod.
“You want to come all over my cock?”
Speech is slightly beyond you at this point, but you manage to gasp a desperate plea as you hurtle into the final plateau, right before the fall.
Loki regards you with that same playful look as he fucks you. You wait, unsure of what he’s going to do, your body desperately crying out for your release.
His lips curl into a smile. “Come for me, sweet thing.”
At the sound of his voice, every one of your muscles is tensing and releasing, the slick walls of your cunt clamping down hard on the thick girth of his cock as you shudder and moan.
The remnants of Loki’s composure are fraying, his eyes closed and his jaw slack as he chases his own end. His brow furrows and he throws his head back, letting out a low groan as he comes and you think it might be the best sound you’ve ever heard.
You sag against him as you both come down from your respective highs, his heart beating hard under the soft fabric of his sweater. He reaches for your face, tilting your head back so he can kiss you, impossibly slow and soft.
You’re in the middle of the kitchen. You understand this. In a wholly rational world, you would be quick to hop off the counter, quick to try and negotiate the return of your jeans from whatever pocket dimension he’s sent them to.
Instead, you find yourself wanting to stay in this moment, with his arms wrapped around you, his cock still pulsing inside you as he kisses you breathless.
You count to ten, then twenty. At forty, you draw back slightly, only to have him pull you back into the kiss.
It’s somewhere after one hundred when he trails his lips to your neck and you manage to say what you intended: “We should probably…” you trail off as he sucks at your pulse point, sending a shiver down your spine.
“We should probably what?” he murmurs against your neck, before tracing a lazy figure eight with the tip of his tongue.
It takes you a moment to find that sentence. “Get dressed and such.”
You feel the sharp press of his smile against your skin. “I think not.”
Before you can open your mouth to say anything, the kitchen is fading in a shimmer of green to an unfamiliar bedroom and the two of you tumble into a bed draped in green silk.
“I’d like to stay like this for a while,” he says, a smile playing at his lips as he slowly rolls his hips against you, somehow still impossibly hard. “In fact, I think I need to have you again.”
“I can live with that,” you say. You tug at the fabric of his sweater. “But this is going to have to go.”
His gaze is smoldering and his bare skin is suddenly pressed against yours as the sweater and the rest of your clothes disappear in that familiar shimmer of green.
“Will you like me as much without it?” he asks, rolling his hips against you.
You drag your fingernails up along the firm muscles of his back. “I think I’ll manage.”
“Good,” he says, leaning in to kiss you, “because as I understand it, we have quite a lot of time to make up for.”
#loki smut#loki x reader smut#loki laufeyson#loki laufeyson smut#loki x female reader smut#loki x female reader#loki fanfiction#loki fanfic#loki x you smut#loki x yn smut#loki imagine
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WFH!Nanami
Work From Home Nanami = best house husband
a/n: lol this is nanami brainrot while I wait for my Toji fic to get beta'd so I know how dog it is. ETA: FYI, this is a semi-repost of a self-ship collab with a now deactivated account. I repurposed my selfship part to reader and expanded to WFH. cw: smut (pussy pounding, gagging on CAWK) fluff, nanami being the perf husband and male specimen per usual wc: 1.6k
WFH!Nanami doesn’t have to worry about waking up early to go into the office but he still rises with the sun to get his day started and do his favorite thing, which is to spoil you. Waking you up with gentle kisses, placing a hot espresso by the bedside and being your personal snooze button when you tell him 5 more minutes (he is so punctual it will be 5 mins on the dot).
You will still likely end up strolling into the office late regardless though because knowing you, you can’t start your day until you’re squirting all over daddy. But this is Nanami, he is nothing if not efficient so your early morning romp is definitely in the shower where he can clean you up after in order to get you out of the door sooner, your breakfast is already packed to-go.
WFH!Nanami love language is acts of service. You never stress about what to do for lunch either because there’s always a Michelin star worthy bento waiting for you next to your keys before you leave for the day.
In fact, what Nanami doesn’t know is that his bento is famous not only around your office, as your envious coworkers gather round to see what your perfect husband has prepared for you today, but also on TikTok. The ‘KentosBentos’ TikTok account you made has over 350K followers who not only watch for the mouth watering yet nutritious bentos but to also hear you gush over the cute little notes your hubby leaves for you.
Your top video has over 2.5 million likes and thousands of swooning women in the comments when WFH!Nanami made you an extra special lobster bento for your birthday and left you the note: ‘In all the world there is no love for me if I don’t have yours. Happy Birthday to my lovely wife, whose smile shines bigger and all the more brighter than the sun, moon and stars.’
Continuing with acts of service WFH!Nanami always has an equally delicious dinner ready for you when you get home. On days you work overtime and arrive home late, there's always a warm bubble bath waiting for you first. You love to rest with your back laid against Nanami’s utterly ripped torso in the tub while his thick arms envelope you. Relaxing into the safety of WFH!Nanami’s hold, your doting hubby kisses your temple and gives your keyboard fatigued hands a delicate massage. Nanami is nothing but a patient yet active listener while you recount your stressful day at work.
On days when you both get the opportunity to work from home you email WFH!Nanami a meeting invite to block off his calendar for 30 min during lunch. The invite is always titled ‘Ken and Barbie’s Lunch Meeting’. The location? ‘Pound Town’ The time? Noon, sharp!
Of course WFH!Nanami never actually schedules it on his work calendar lest his boss sees the meeting. (Gojo would never let him hear the end of it). As a result, since he never actually has the time officially blocked off, on some rare occasions he does actually get booked for a real lunch meeting at Noon that he cannot reschedule.
Meeting or no meeting though you are determined to keep your lunchtime dick appointment with WFH!Nanami. A noon dicking is a noon dicking and it’s a non-negotiable for you as you don’t often get to stay home from work!
WFH!Nanami is focused and poised during his camera-on meetings with his team. Therefore he doesn’t hear you open his office door. Nor does he see you as you drop to the floor with feline grace, hips swaying seductively as you crawl right under his desk. In fact, Nanami does not notice you at all until your soft hands grip his thick powerful thighs and you’re sliding your body up between his legs. Never faltering on-camera, WFH!Nanami’s stiffened jaw and tensed shoulders are the only tell-signs of you palming his rapidly hardening cock under the desk.
WFH!Nanami who tests the absolute limits of the stress ball he keeps handy (usually for tough negotiations) when he feels you press your hot mouth on the fabric covering his dick. You know your stoic husband won't ever outwardly falter when on the clock but you know inside he is a mess. That much is clear to you by the girth bulge straining against his tan fitted slacks.
WFH!Nanami who knows you are upset about him working through your ‘lunch meeting’, but wishes you wouldn’t torture him like this while he’s on the clock. He can tell you are enjoying yourself though as your sinful little tongue drags tiny kitten licks over the hard bulge in his pants. Soon though you are pawing at his zipper and pulling his girthy cock free through the hole, not even bothering to undo his belt. Taking him fully into your mouth, WFH!Nanami bites his inner cheek, when his boss Gojo makes a comment on how he looks more tense than usual when he should be thrilled after closing the biggest deal of the year.
WFH!Nanami who takes a long moment to deeply clear his throat before he calmly relays to Gojo that he is very pleased with the win but already thinking of the next big acquisition for their company. Yet Nanami’s voice hitches ever so slightly when your pink stiletto nails dig into his muscular thighs. It fools the rest of the team but Gojo merely raises a brow before cheerily moving on to the next subject.
WFH!Nanami spares a look downward at you once the work conversation has shifted to see you gazing up at his mouth full of his cock. You wear an angelic look as if he can’t tell the hand that left his thigh and is now slotted between your own isn’t furiously rubbing at your clit. He knows you are pleased at finally drawing a reaction, even a small one, from him while on the clock.
WFH!Nanami whose eyes twitch when he’s closing the call he sees his boss Gojo’s knowing smile and hears the start of the question, “So Nanamin… is Y/N, working from home to–”
WFH!Nanami doesn’t stay to hear the end of the question, quickly exiting the call and ignoring the message pings full of raunchy emojis he receives from Gojo.
WFH!Nanamiwho is still seated grabs you by your hair and ruthlessly face fucks you as soon as his camera turns off. He forces you swallow all eight and a half inches of him as you gag and slobber around his girth. Your jaw begins to ache but your eyes still roll back into your head with pleasure and you go limp in his grasp. You are willingly allowing your loving husband to turn your throat into his personal cocksleeve as you rub your cunt up against his leg, so close to cumming from the chafing of his slacks against your cunt.
Frustrated and annoyed it isn’t long before WFH!Nanami cums himself. His leg you are riding jerks up into you giving you the extra push you need as you moan around his cock and cream on his leg leaving a wet spot. WFH!Nanami has you choking down his thick seed. His cum and your drool dribble down the sides of your face when he finally slides out of the warm cavern of your throat cunny, leaving you panting as you try to catch your breath.
WFH!Nanami wordlessly wipes your face with the tissues he keeps on his desk and promptly ushers you out of this office, locking the door behind you. You aren’t upset though as you know what's in store for you once his work day is over. The locked door is more to keep him IN, than keep you OUT. Nanami would have to take the rest of the day off if he were to properly discipline you now. You being forced to wait and wonder how long he would take to finish his work was part of the punishment anyway.
You know WFH!Nanami is ready to administer your punishment once he calls you out by your FULL government name “Y/N Nanami!” Tonight is different and there is no dinner nor warm bath for you. Just a tired Nanami, weary of his bosses teasing and ready to take out all his frustrations on his wife’s naughty little cunt.
Your cunt in question nearly starts voguing in anticipation as heat pools between your legs once you are called into the bedroom. You already know what time it is once you see WFH!Nanami loosen his tie and take off his belt slowly while sternly saying your name once more.
The belt and tie?
Oh, the belt is used to tie your arms behind you and the tie is now a gag, for having such a filthy cock-loving little mouth he will tell you. It’s not long after that until you are face down, ass up getting pounded into the mattress as WFH!Nanami nearly cracks the headboard with the force he is using to thrust into you. Your cries of “K-Kento!” are muffled into the makeshift gag when a firm slap causes your ass to ripple more aggressively against his pelvis.
Nanami growls deeply into your ear.
“Welcome to Pound Town, Barbie.”
Any muffled cries for mercy fall on deaf ears as WFH!Nanami is too focused on his retribution for your earlier antics as he continues to wreck your pussy from behind. His heavy balls smack against your clit and your sloppy cunt echos vulgar squelches that bounce off your bedroom walls and erotically ring in your ears. The hand pressing your head further into the pillow beneath you is the same hand Nanami wears his wedding band on. It glimmers brightly even in the dimly lit room.
WFH!Nanami loves seeing his ring and remembering his vows in the moment. 💖
©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or graphics, do not translate.
a/n: Nanami brainrot overload (i wfh! lord god when is it my turn, bring me a nanami i BEG) and day 18 without adhd meds lol, finally finished something though. Nerd!Geto and The Nursery ft. Toji is soon I promise!
reblog to get your on WFH!Nanami but comments and likes are always appreciated!
#♋︎kizzatcooks#♋︎kizzatcookedthat#♋︎ kizzatcanons#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#nanami x reader#nanami smut#nanami x reader smut#tw smut#cw smut#tw sex mention#cw sex mention#kento nanami smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#nanami kento smut#jjk fanfic#jjk fanfiction#nanami fanfiction#nanami x black reader#nanami x y/n#nanami x black y/n#black reader#black author#jujutsu kaisen
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Open Arms
Two players, one last name. Only one of you is suffering from the legacy attached to it
Alexia Putellas x sister!reader
masterlist
Warnings: angst and/or hurt + bit of an inconclusive ending lol not happy or sad kinda just… 🫠
A/N: more alexia angst in the place of aapa pt. 4! heavily inspired by open arms by sza, and i highly recommend that you listen to it because this will make a whole lot more sense if you do + it’s amazing. this song is so dear to my heart and honestly one of my favourites ever, so i had to write something inspired by it because the meaning is so deep and interpretable in many ways. this is just one of them :)
You thought that playing for Barcelona was your lifelong dream.
It was a picturesque scene; two players sharing the same last name stepping onto the pitch in the same jersey. It had been your dream at one point, until you realised the influence of your sister was leading you to believe that.
This set something off in you, like it triggered a chain reaction of thoughts and epiphanies that led up to the inevitable.
It was so hard to shine as your own individual self, when all you were credited for was the name on your back and the uncanny resemblance you had to Alexia. You were good, you were so good, but nobody ever noticed. You knew it would stay like this forever if you didn’t do something for yourself.
You could remember your hometown of Mollet de Vallès to be a place that was rife with FC Barcelona pride; it would’ve been the ultimate betrayal to your neighbourhood if you hadn’t elected to play for the club. It would be the ultimate betrayal to leave them, as well.
You were born and raised in Barcelona. The culture, the people, the club, all of it was surely intertwined into your soul. That wouldn’t stop you from running away from every bit of it and breaking out of the manacles this city held you in.
If it wasn’t for your sister and the fact that all your years spent at the club was deeply rooted in the love you had for her, you would’ve been gone ages ago.
At first, you thought you were just having one of those days when nothing felt like it was going your way, but the feelings persisted and you became more acutely aware of the real problem — you were staying for Alexia, and her feelings were beginning to come above your career and self-esteem.
You could only spend so much time in the dark before you started craving the light. Living in her shadow was simply not good enough. You had spent enough of your life feeling hopeless.
Being on the same team as her meant that the closest you’d ever get to being called good is comparisons to your sister. Alexia was La Reina. Alexia was everything. You? Well… you were barely anything if not Alexia’s little sister, the other less impressive Putellas.
Talks with your agent made the decision you had to make crystal clear; you could continue to be downplayed as long as you stay at Barcelona, or you could leave the club and feel what it’s like to be appreciated for the skill you possess instead of your relations to Alexia.
The hardest part of this entire thing? Telling her.
You could pack your things and book your plane tickets, call your agent and tell him to start negotiating with clubs, let the board know that you’re leaving for good and never turning back, but breaking the news to Alexia was easier said than done.
When you were in her kitchen one night, bearing a burden on your shoulders, you hesitated to speak. The knowledge of your career at Barça coming to an end after one more match was severing your tongue, preventing you from speaking, and eventually you’d cave beneath it and keep it all to yourself until Alexia found out in the worst way possible. The deal was done, you put pen to paper, and you were set to join Bayern Munich. All that was left to do was tell Alexia.
Bayern Munich, so far away from Barcelona, it was perfect. You could restart and build a name for yourself, completely separated from your family name. Even if Alexia did get angry, you would be in Germany within the next month (give or take a week), so what did it matter?
Part of you had faith that she’d understand, recognise your intentions and not take it to heart. The entirety of you hoped and prayed for that.
“Alexia,” you started, turning around in your seat at the dining table to look at her while she poured herself a glass of water. She hummed in response to you, as to indicate that she was listening.
“I’m leaving the club. I’ve signed it — the contract — and it’s done. I’m going to Bayern.”
She turned off the faucet suddenly, standing at the sink with her back to you. Her grip on the glass tightened ever so slightly, and you could hear the deep breath she took.
“What?” she mumbled, turning around to look at you with eyes narrowed in disbelief. You glared at the table, nodding your head slightly.
“I’m going to Bayern,” you repeated, looking up to meet her now widened eyes as she placed her glass down. “I’m leaving Barça.”
She glanced at you, her eyes softening for a moment, and you could tell that she was barely registering the news.
“You can’t,” she responded, “Barça is your home, we belong here, both of us–”
There went any chances of her understanding you. That other part of you that knew she wouldn’t be rational about this, had been proven right. “You belong here, Alexia. I don’t,” you shot back, pointing at her with an almost accusing finger.
“What’s wrong with the club?” Alexia snapped. You glared at her, your angered façade crumbling away to reveal the true sadness that remained behind it.
“This club is your dream, (Y/N). I mean, I don’t get it,” she laughed, her expression seeping with disbelief, “You love it here, I love you here– don’t you remember? We used to talk about retiring here together, assisting each other and scoring from each other’s passes. Remember how you’ve always wanted to score a bicycle kick off one of my corners? Why do you want to leave, when we haven’t done all this, when there’s still so much for us to achieve?”
It wasn’t her fault that everyone kept you in the dark. Alexia would never want you at Barça if she knew this was going to happen. Still, you couldn’t cave now. There was no use in regretting anything, because it was done. Maybe if you had told her about your plans to leave, you would’ve felt this regret earlier, and things would’ve been different. Empty ‘what-ifs’ only reminded you that it was too late.
But still, her plea to make you stay was solely built on whatever regarded her. Not a single thing about what you wanted to do was taken into consideration.
“Tell me what made you want to leave, and I’ll make them change it. Just don’t ruin your career by leaving,” she continued.
“You know what?” you started, standing up so you were eye-to-eye with your sister, “I thought you out of all people would understand, but no. You’re selfish, Alexia. This is what’s best for me, I can’t stay here if I want to be any good!”
You were yelling, and you never liked to yell, but it felt like the only way to properly convey your feelings to the woman.
“I’m not even second best to you. Sometimes I feel like I’m only kept at this club to make you look good, and I am so, so sick of it. For years I’ve– I have no confidence left, no sense of pride in myself, I barely ever feel happy wearing this jersey because it’s always been your dream, not mine! I’m not the Putellas that belongs here, everyone knows that, so don’t try to make me stay because this is my only chance to be great. I want to be great, Alexia, and you should know better than anyone what it’s like to want that.”
It was only normal that you began to tear up amidst your words, and they trembled on your waterline as you spoke.
Alexia looked defeated.
More than anything, she felt unbridled amounts of guilt running rife through her. She wanted to reach out to you, hug you, tell you that everything would be alright and she never looked at you as a dim light that made hers look brighter, but she was glued to the spot, her muscles twitching and urging her to step forward with no avail.
“I love you, and I’ve stayed all this time for you. Honestly, I never even wanted to stay. You’re the only one that’s holding me down.” It was like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders, and in its place sat a mix of relief and guilt.
Alexia stayed silent, only a singular tear slipping down her cheek, the start of many that she would shed behind closed doors that night. It was more than just losing a teammate to her, and she wasn’t so emotional because her sister was leaving; it was the realisation that she didn’t know you very well in the first place, and the culpability of realising that she really had been holding you down.
That conversation was one of the last you had with Alexia in person. You played one last match for the Blaugrana, and then you left for Germany the following week.
Even weeks of knowing prior to your final match couldn’t soften the blow as Alexia stood on the pitch, clapping for you as you waved goodbye to the fans and teammates alike, tears brimming in your eyes that were akin to the ones rolling down her cheeks.
She walked up to you, and she embraced you like she never has before, like you were disappearing into nothingness instead of another country. You gripped her tightly, savouring the hug and trying to memorise the feeling, and when she pulled away, she had a pensive smile on her face.
“If you ever want to come back to me, I’ll always be right here with open arms. Cuídate, hermana.”
#fcb femení x reader#fcbfemeni#fcb femení#woso#woso angst#woso imagines#woso x reader#woso community#woso fanfics#alexia putellas#alexia putellas x reader#fc barcelona femeni#fc barcelona x reader#fcb femeni
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if you are still taking requests could you do the opposite spin off where we the experiment like Sebastian of having a shop as for Sebastian being a prisoner who enters the reader shop?
Payment recieved
Words: 1k
Tags: Reversed roles, inhuman reader, human!sebastian, slight fluff, sebastian is still grumpy
authors note: Wrote it on my phone! This was actually requested by two people so I finished it now.
"How much?" Sebastian glanced up at you, his face a mix of exhaustion and relief. Your eyes followed his gaze, realizing he was referring to the jacket you were wearing. It was a brown leather jacket lined with cozy alpaca fur, keeping you warm ever since your body had stopped producing its own heat. The jacket wasn’t particularly important, but you enjoyed the comfort it provided.
You had known Sebastian for a while; he always wore a grumpy expression and often greeted you with sarcasm when he entered your shop. "How much?" he repeated, this time with a hint of impatience.
You blinked, scratching behind your ear fins with a free hand, and smirked. "600 and a smile."
Sebastian hesitated, his brows furrowing as he processed your words. He was used to bartering, haggling, and the occasional hostile negotiation with you, but this was different. A smile? That was new.
“600 and a smile?” he echoed, his voice tinged with disbelief. His usual grumpy demeanor was momentarily replaced by confusion, as if trying to gauge whether you were joking or just odd. He looked at you closely, taking in your strange, inhuman features—the ear fins, the scaled texture of your skin, and the way your eyes seemed to shimmer in the dim light of the shop. Despite your otherworldly appearance, there was something oddly comforting about you, something that made him relax just a little in your presence.
You nodded, your smile widening just a bit. “That’s right. A fair trade, don’t you think?” Your voice was light, almost playful, as if challenging him to go along with your terms. You tilted your head, the movement causing the fins on the sides of your head to twitch slightly.
Sebastian frowned, glancing down at the jacket again. It wasn’t just that he needed it—the halls of this facility were unforgiving, and his own clothes were worn thin from constant wear. It was more than that, though. This jacket seemed different, not just because of its quality, but because it was yours. He knew you valued it, even if you pretended otherwise.
But a smile? It was a strange request, one that felt more personal than the usual business interactions he was accustomed to. Sebastian wasn’t exactly known for his cheerful disposition, and smiling wasn’t something that came naturally to him. He was a man of few words and fewer expressions, and the idea of smiling just to get a jacket felt… uncomfortable.
He sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?” His tone was less accusatory and more resigned, as if he knew he was about to lose a game he never intended to play.
You simply shrugged, leaning casually against the counter, your eyes never leaving his. “Completely serious. You want the jacket, right? Well, I want to see that grumpy face of yours break into a smile. It’s not every day I get to see something so rare.”
Sebastian narrowed his eyes at you, but there was no real malice in his gaze. It was a challenge, one that poked at the walls he’d built around himself. He could just walk away, keep his pride intact, and find another way to stay warm. But something in your relaxed, confident demeanor made him hesitate.
Finally, he let out a low grunt, something halfway between annoyance and reluctant acceptance. “Fine. If it means getting this jacket, then fine.” He looked down, taking a deep breath as if preparing himself for an ordeal.
Then,slowly and awkwardly, he tried to smile, hoping it was enough.
It wasn’t much—more of a twitch at the corners of his mouth than an actual smile, and his eyes remained as stoic as ever. But there was an effort, a hint of something softer beneath the layers of his usual gruffness. It was brief, almost too brief to notice, but it was there.
You watched him with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction, your own smile widening in response. You would never say it but his smile made your heart skip a beat. “Not bad, Sebastian. Not bad at all.”
Sebastian’s face quickly returned to its usual neutral expression, though a faint flush colored his cheeks. “Yeah, yeah. Just give me the jacket.” He stretched out his hand, wanting you to hurry up already.
You chuckled softly, unzipping the jacket and sliding it off your shoulders. The cold immediately hit your skin, but you barely noticed, more focused on the small victory you’d just won. You handed the jacket to him, your hand brushing against his as he took it.
“Take care of it,” you said lightly, but there was a sincerity in your tone that made Sebastian pause. “It’s seen a lot, that jacket. It deserves someone who’ll appreciate it.” It was one of your last personal items you owned.
Sebastian nodded, slipping the jacket on. It fit him well, and the warmth was immediate, enveloping him in a sense of comfort he hadn’t felt in a long time. He looked at you, unsure of what to say. He wasn’t used to kindness, especially not in a place like this, and the way you treated him—like an old friend rather than just another customer—left him feeling off balance.
“Thanks,” he muttered, pulling the collar up to shield his neck from the chill.
“Anytime,” you replied, your smile still lingering as you watched him turn to leave. “And don’t be a stranger, Sebastian. My shop’s always open.”
As he walked out into the dimly lit corridor, the warmth of the jacket spreading through his body, Sebastian found himself thinking about that brief, awkward smile. In the end it was more than worth it because he was warm and he knew basked in the slight confort that it gave him. The smell of your scent going up his nose, making him feel grateful for your presence. With that, he crawled through the vent with your image in his mind.
“YOU FORGOT THE KEYCARD, SUNSHINE!”
#sebastian solace#sebastian solace x reader#sebastian solace x you#sebastian solace fanfic#roblox pressure
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—⟡ covert desires | kim mingyu
summary: the mission is simple - infiltrate a high-stakes auction that the top leaders, businessmen, women, and politicians of the world attend every year and steal one of the most highly guarded and hidden-away paintings from the target’s collection. the only downside, you had to work with kim mingyu, whom you absolutely hated. and to make it even worse, you had to pretend to be his wife for this mission to work.
pairing: spy!mingyu x assasin!reader (fem!reader)
themes: spy au, mafia, enemies to lovers, fake marriage, mutual pining, spies, angst, fluff, killing
warnings: suggestive, kissing, use of curse words, weapons, guns, knives, violence, use of drugs/painkillers, blood, gore, killing, death
wordcount: 19.5k
a/n: i had so much fun writing this! thank you so much to @fairyhaos to listening to my random ideas and helping me with the title and just being really helpful, ily. and tysm to @gyuswhore for beta-reading this and giving me valuable feedback, lifesaver honestly. tysm! i'd love to know your thoughts on this ^^
full fic under the cut!
— character guide
seungcheol - underground mafia leader
jeonghan - manipulator, gets things fabricated like documents, ids etc.
joshua - keeps a log on the accounts/transactions and assets
jun - spy
hoshi - spy
wonwoo - in house doctor
woozi - in charge of gadgets and other necessary equipment
the8 - in charge of weapons
mingyu - spy and your partner for the mission
seokmin - gathers informations and intel
seungkwan - negotiator and works behind the scenes
vernon - hacker
dino - spy
you wipe the last of the blood off your hands and carefully move the body, manipulating the crime scene to make it look like it was a suicide. with a carefully crafted suicide scene, the police wouldn’t even blink an eye and just close the case as a suicide, not wanting to bother investigating further. you just had to leave around the right clues and bait them. once they’d find it, they’d conclude the case without thinking any further and your job was done. you were sure no one would even miss the bastard that you had just sent to hell anyways. after scanning the room, you make sure everything is in place before exiting quietly and disappearing into the shadows.
when you reach home to your apartment, you swiftly change out of you soiled and bloody clothes. that idiot decided to put up a fight, making things harder for himself really. you planned on killing him quietly, but the fight he put up was unnecessary and he wasn’t going to stand a chance against you regardless. you would have finished earlier and your clothes would have been significantly less bloody. sighing, you peel off your clothes and they fall to the floor in a heap as you step into the shower. the hot water offers some sort of relief and relaxation, your muscles relaxing under the hot water. wrapping a towel around yourself, you step out and hear the faint ring of your burner phone fill the room.
“hello?”, you say as you put the phone to your ear.
“did you get the job done?”, the voice on the other side asks.
“yes, you didn’t hire the best for no reason, did you?”, you scoff back, offended he’d even have a sliver of doubt in your skills.
“good. we have another urgent matter on hand and it has to be discussed in person. you know where to meet me”, the voice adds.
“i swear if it’s another-“
“you’ll love this one, trust me”, the voice says, cutting you short and hanging up as you begin to say something. you curse under your breath; that idiot never had manners. you huff, throwing the phone on the bed and changing into something comfortable before you crash into bed, too tired to complain or think about anything else.
you were an assassin or a hired killer you could say. but you liked to call yourself an assassin - because let’s be real, it sounds cooler. you were trained, skilled, and good at what you did – which was killing people, bad people specifically. when you weren'’t out hunting people down, you were working as a barista at a local cafe. it was somewhat therapeutic compared to your other occupation. but you had to if you wanted to survive in this world. if you wanted your life to have some semblance of normalcy. the world was a cruel place and somehow you ended up doing this for a living but hey, at least it paid well.
the next morning you’re sitting in the hall of seungcheol’s fancy office, or what you liked to call the safehouse.
“you’re here! let me tell seungcheol”, dino says upon seeing you, flashing you a friendly smile. you give him a small smile as he retreats, making his way to look for seungcheol.
seungcheol walks in a few moments later, and his presence can be felt in the room immediately. no one messes with him – everyone knew that. he was the most feared man in the underground mafia and a threat to the government as well. his connections and dirt on powerful people ran too deep with secrets only he knew and used as leverage. hell, even the government would hire him to do their dirty work so he was practically untouchable.
“what’s this urgent matter that needs to be discussed in person?”, you ask, once he sits down opposite you.
“no hi?”, he prompts, raising his a brow as he looks at you.
“no thank you for yesterday?”, you prod back, challenging him. you were really the only person seungcheol let speak to him like that. he’d pretty much raised you and he didn’t seem to mind, especially since you did most of his dirty work.
“we seem to have gotten ourselves another lucrative mission”, he starts off, treading carefuly with his words. “it’s something worth millions if not billions, so this is a really high-stakes operation”, he tells, observing you. “and we’re getting paid handsomely for it and so will you if it goes well”, he completes.
“alright, that seems like a piece of cake. what are we stealing?”, you ask.
“a painting”, he tells, as he takes a sip of his bitter black coffee in front of him.
“it’s going to be displayed in the national museum of culture and arts”, he says as he continues briefing you. “but that’s not all. the annual auction takes place in three weeks. many if not all the influential, powerful people, businessmen and politicians are going to be at this event, so it’s expected that the security is going to be very tight and advanced. they’ll be bidding for art and plenty of other stuff there but not this painting. this painting is special because it’s not for sale, it’s only on display and it’s the first time it’s being shown to the public in twenty years. the mission is to steal this painting, while also making sure no one finds out – so we place a knock-off”. he explains.
“all right, that doesn’t sound too hard”, you say, calculating everything in your mind.
“oh, don’t underestimate this. this painting is going to be highly guarded and anyone can’t just enter the auction either. you need to be specially invited to the auction otherwise you cannot enter, and you can’t go alone, it’ll be suspicious”, he adds.
“what do you mean i can’t go alone? how else am i going to do this?”, you ask, confused.
“mingyu’s going to be your partner for this mission and the only way it’s going to work is that you pretend that you both are a married couple”, seungcheol completes, making you whip your head up. your jaw drops to the floor upon hearing the words that came from seungcheol’s mouth, absolutely appalled.
“did i hear that right? i need to be mingyu’s wife?”, you repeat, leaning forward and seungcheol doesn’t say anything, only looks at you with a knowing smile.
mingyu and you don’t exactly get along together. he was always somehow getting on your nerves and you hated him.
“seungcheol, you know i don’t like him”, you say, annoyed already. “and i work alone”, you add, glaring at him.
“it’s for the mission and we don’t have any other option. everyone else is busy with other missions and mingyu was the only one who’s free at the moment, and i trust him on this one”, seungcheol explains. you can’t really argue with seungcheol because, at the end of the day he was your still your boss and he called the shots.
“i suggest you get friendly with mingyu because we don’t have a lot of time on hand. the auction is in three weeks and you and mingyu need to play a convincing husband and wife role starting today”
“today?”, i repeat. that was really short notice.
“mingyu has it sorted out”, he says, and your burner phone pings. “that must be him”, seungcheols says.
“please try to get along with him”, is the last thing seungcheol tells you before he stands up to leave. he emphasizes his words with the look he gives. it was a ‘don’t mess this up’ look and you sighed. he gives you a small ‘good luck’ before turning around and walking out, getting busy with something else.
you stand up to leave, opening your phone and reading mingyu’s text.
“meet me at the fountain park at 11am”.
you grumble as you make your way to the park and see mingyu sitting on one of the benches. there aren’t many people, but the sun shines warm and the sky is blue - a complete contrast to your mood right now. you’d very much like to walk away but you can’t. you drag you feet and will yourself to walk towards mingyu, who smiles when he spots you. you don’t reciprocate the smile, giving him a stern looking, already annoyed at the sight of him.
"you know, most people don’t scowl when they see a handsome face”, he says when you’re close enough. you roll your eyes and mentally flip him off, crossing your arms across your chest as you glare at him. “handsome my ass”, you mumble under your breath.
“long time no see”, he greets. you don’t sit. “i’ve been busy”, you tell him.
“you look good”, he adds, gesturing for you to sit.
“seungcheol briefed me on the mission, so what’s next”, you ask, getting back on the topic, not wanting to indulge in small talk with mingyu.
“i found us a house to move into until the mission is over and-“,
“wait, why do we have to move in together?”, you ask in horror and he just looks at you like the answer is obvious.
“because we’re husband and wife? and i don’t think i can come by your apartment and suddenly tell all the neighbours that the poor girl they thought was lonely and single is actually married, now can i”, he says.
you scowl again. “they won’t even care!”
“it’ll be a problem if they become suspicious. it’s better to move in elsewhere and you can move back to your apartment when it’s all done and they won’t even blink an eye about what happened. you can also avoid questions about your husband who mysteriously appeared and disappeared”, he explains. “unless you want to explain why you kept such a handsome man a secret and-“
“shut up”, you cut him off and he chuckles.
you weigh out all the options in your head and mingyu’s idea was the best and most promising, even though you didn’t like it very much. you hated the idea in fact. but sometimes desperate times called for desperate measures.
“fine”, you huff, gritting your teeth. “what else?”, you ask.
“jeonghan’s working on getting us the invitation to the auction. we can start by moving in. pack only your essentials. i’ll pick you up by 2 pm tomorrow so you can move your stuff into the new place”, mingyu tells.
you stack the last box with all you stuff and things that you’d need in the new place, dusting your hands on your shorts. if your neighbors asked, you were away, traveling back to meet family who lived in another state. you’d be back soon so you were sure you could get away with that excuse.
mingyu arrives at 2pm on the dot as promised. you start to carry the boxes out. he carries the other two effortlessly and follows behind you. the elevator ride is quiet, with neither of you saying anything. you’re sitting in his car as he drives you to the new house. you look around, all the houses looking more fancy, manicured and elite. that’s when you realize you’re entering the richer part of the neighborhood.
“how’d you manage to get a house here?”, you ask mingyu, knowing the rent or prices would not have been cheap.
“i invested in some land here and once they announced that they’re going to develop this area, the prices skyrocketed and i got rich. i own the house now and i thought it would be nice to finally use it.”, he explains.
“cool”, is all you can say as you look around at all the villas and large houses occupying this space. if anybody lived here, they definitely came from the wealthy and posh side. in hindsight, it was a good cover for you and it would make it easier for you to blend in if you had to pretend to be from a wealthy background.
you finish unloading and unpacking your stuff in the room when mingyu knocks on the door. you both thankfully had separate rooms because there was no way in hell that you were going to share a bed with him. you’d rather sleep on hot coal than do that.
“jeonghan’s finished gathering some documents so i’ll just go over and pick them up. do you wanna come along?”, he asks.
“sure”, you say, because you really didn’t know what you’d do here alone, plus it had been a while since you last saw jeonghan and oh he was a real menace.
“jeonghan!!”, you say upon seeing him, going up to give him a hug. “y/n! it’s been a while huh, you look great”, he says, a small smile on his face.
“that’s not fair, you didn’t give me a hug when you saw me now did you, baby”, mingyu complains.
“what did you just call me?”, you ask, not sure if you’d heard that right.
“baby”, he repeats casually.
“don’t call me that”,
“i have to if we’re going to play a lovely doting husband and wife couple”, he says and you give him a glare, lasers practically shooting out from your eyes.
“we’re not playing husband and wife right now so watch your mouth, mingyu”, you warn and he just shrugs as you fix your attention back on jeonghan.
“it hasn’t even been 24 hours and you guys are already arguing? i just hope you survive the mission and don’t rip each other’s throats by the end of this”, jeonghan says, amused.
“speaking about that, here’s your marriage certificate. i made it so you’ve both been married for a year and a half, less suspicious that way”, jeonghan explains. “oh, and i also sneaked you both an invite to a party hosted by yeonjun. it’ll be a good opportunity to gather connections and intel. it’s tomorrow night”, jeonghan adds as he hands you the invitations.
“damn how’d you manage that?”, you ask. “i have my ways, you should know that by now y/n. i'm the man who can get away with anything”, he replies giving you a wink. you chuckle at his words. “how could i forget, you’re called a menace for a reason”, you tease, laughing along with him.
“and i’m still working on getting the invite for the auction, it should be done in a few days”. jeonghan later says and you both leave after chatting a bit more.
that night you lay in bed, barely managing to fall sleep. the hours fly by and you check your appearance in the mirror one last time before stepping out of the room. you’d worn a simple black dress and just lightly styled your hair. you didn’t want to go overboard since this wasn’t the actual mission, so you kept it pretty but to a minimum, but still enough to make it look like you were wealthy and could blend into the crowd at tonight’s party.
“are you ready? we’ll be late”, you say, calling out to mingyu who was in his room.
you hear the shuffle of his shoes as you do a quick check of your small handbag – tissues, lip gloss, phone and most importantly, a pocket knife. when you look back up, mingyu is staring at you.
“what? hurry up, we haven’t got all day”, you add, walking to the front as you slip into a pair of matching black heels. you know our cover when we’re out yeah?”, mingyu asks as he comes up to you.
“yup, we just moved in the neighborhood, you’re an ER doctor, and i’m a lovely housewife who spends her time shopping, relaxing and spending your money”, you say with a fake smile.
“but do you even know anything about being a doctor, you better not mess up if someone asks you medical terms and shit”, you say, pointing a finger at him.
“don’t go underestimating my skills y/n, i’ve got it covered”
“you better”, you snap back, walking ahead of him towards the door.
the party is high in security but you make it through without a hassle. you had gone through the files seokmin had sent on the people attending and memorized everyone’s name, face, job, and even what they eat for dinner. you had to know everything in order to blend in. you step out of the car and mingyu offers you his hand to hold onto. you smile and take it because you do have to act. you put on your friendly face and enter the party, your eyes scanning the crowd. you spot a few people you recognise from the files you’d read last night, the connections forming in your head. just then mingyu sees someone and whispers that’ll he’ll be back, parting ways with you and you’re left alone.
you take this chance to mingle with the other women that you spot in a corner – who were all your new neighbors. this was a good time to introduce yourself, so you walk towards them and smile.
“hello!”, you say brightly and they turn around to look at you. one of them seems to recognize you and smiles.
“hi! you’re new to the area, right? i saw you moving in the other say”, she says.
“yes, i just moved here with my husband”, you explain as a waiter comes by, offering you drinks on a shiny tray. you take one and so do they.
“where’s your husband?”, one of them asks.
“oh, he’s just talking so an acquaintance over there”, you say, looking back as you nudge your head in mingyu's direction.
“what does he do?”, another one asks excitedly upon spotting mingyu in the crowd. you already knew what they were thinking at the way they were looking at him.
“he’s a doctor, he works in the ER”, you tell.
“oh you poor thing. he must be working late often”, she adds and just then you feel a hand wrap around your waist and the whiff of cologne in the air.
“hello ladies, i don’t think i’ve introduced myself. i’m mingyu, nice to meet you”, he says and all the ladies smiles, shamelessly checking him out. but like you cared.
“your wife was just telling us that you work at the ER, it must be tiring, coming home late every day. i’d hate if my husband came late every day”, one of the women says in mock pity.
but mingyu only smirks. “i may come home late, but i always make it up to you in bed, don’t i baby”, he says, looking at you and you almost choke on your drink.
you clear your throat, changing the topic, and all the ladies giggle. after you finally manage to separate from them, you walk around, assessing the situation.
“i can see a lot of people from soyeon’s side”, you say and mingyu agrees. ”jihyo’s here too”, he adds. she was the it woman in business right now and she was rising up the ranks quickly. “jihyo is definitely going to be at the auction”, you add. “should i get friendly with her?”, you ask and mingyu thinks for a few seconds before answering.
“be careful, if you approach her suddenly she might be wary”, he says softly. “you’re not drinking?” you ask, noticing how his glass has gone untouched. “gotta drive us back, so no, i won’t be drinking tonight”. of course, you had forgotten about that. at least he had some manners, unlike seungcheol.
after managing to gather enough intel and make some connections, you and mingyu decide to retire for the night. you both walk out hand in hand and just then your stomach growls. you were hungry, you hadn’t eaten anything there, not wanting to get distracted and also maybe drinking that glass of champagne on an empty stomach wasn’t such a good idea.
“hungry? we can grab something on the way”, mingyu prompts.
you see a mcdonalds’ drive-thru on the way back and tell mingyu to stop by there. “you don’t want real food?”, mingyu asks. “what do you mean, this is real food”, you declare.
“do you eat this often?”, he asks.
“that is none of your business, just get me some nuggets, fries, and a mcflurry”, you say.
he doesn’t get anything, saying he’ll make himself something at home and you don’t complain. you offer him a nugget and some fries but he declines, just driving as he tells you to not spill anything as you munch on the nuggets.
“i’m sure i can make better nuggets than that”, mingyu finally speaks.
“good for you mingyu, i don’t care”, you say, plopping the last bite of nugget into your mouth.
“yeah i’m sure you’ll start caring when i make you breakfast tomorrow and then you’ll never want to eat anything else, only something i’ve cooked”, he boasts.
“is that so? you’re going to spoil me, looking forward to it”,you add, going back to your mcflurry.
the next morning, mingyu does in fact get up early and makes breakfast for the both of you. it would be a lie to say that it wasn’t good, it was actually the best thing you had eaten in a while. over the course of the next week and the days building up to the auction, you attend a few more events together, getting to know more people and making connections. you make yourself friendly with the neighboring women and go shopping together. with all the new intel gathered each time, you pass it over to seokmin.
mingyu and you stop by the safehouse again to collect the invitation to the auction that jeonghan finally got and to update seungcheol on the mission’s progress. you both had somewhat managed to get along…well, almost. if mingyu didn’t make some snarky comment or say something to get on your nerves once in a while it would be better, but he should just be grateful he was alive right now. the urge to strangle mingyu was immense.
“what’s the progress?”, seungcheol asks.
“it’s good. we know for a fact that jihyo is attending the auction and maybe some people from soyeon’s team might attend on her behalf”, mingyu tells.
“im glad you guys seem to be getting along”, seungcheol tells, surprised.
“barely, i need to tell him to shut up and not spew stupid stuff, it really gets on my nerves. and please tell him to stop walking around the house shirtless. it’s damaging to my eyes ”, you complain.
“i didn’t even do anything, i’m just looking out for her well-being, she has some really peculiar habits and also it’s hot? and it’s literally my house? i can do whatever i want”, mingyu defends.
“excuse me?”, you cut him
“you heard her mingyu”, seungcheol directs your words to him. and just then seokmin and jeonghan enter.
“here’s the auction invitation, keep it safe”, he says, handing it to mingyu.
“here’s how the painting looks. it’s called the great fields done by the 18th-century artist lily lee. it’s been hidden away from the public eye for twenty eyes and it’s supposed to be one of her best paintings. it’s worth billions from what i know”, seokmin explains as he shows us a picture of the painting. it was pretty indeed but it was weird why it had been hidden away for so long.
“i already have someone working on the knock-off for the painting”, he adds.
“it better be a damn good knock-off”, seungcheol warns, raising his eyebrows.
“it will be. the guy i asked will get it down to every detail and even mimic each brushstroke. the historians wouldn’t even be able to tell a difference”, seokmin assures.
“good. now y/n, i have a small task for you, it would be great if you can complete it by tonight. it’s for a high-priority client and i’ll pay you extra”, seungcheol says.
“sure, what do i need to do?”
and that’s how you were now on the balcony of a 7th-floor apartment, trying to break in by unlocking the window. the guy you had to kill was a traitor. he took money from innocent people and then threatened them. he was getting in the way of business for the client so he had to go…forever. you opened the window and jumped in, landing soundlessly on your feet as you crouched down, scanning the room. you didn’t like to drag things out so you were going to make this quick.
you hear the hiss of a shallow breath and you quickly realize you’re not alone. someone else is here. you turn around and hide in the corner, peeking out and that’s when a man comes lunging at you with a knife. you dodge and grab his arm, twisting it as you push him against the wall, the knife falling from his hands as you bang his head against the wall. he grunts in pain and falls to the floor and you quickly move to locate the target, who’s heard all the commotion and is coming downstairs. he sees you and his eyes widen as he turns around and starts to run back upstairs. you run after him, placing your foot in the door before he can close and lock it. you push the door with all your strength, willing it to open and he stumbles backward. you waste no time in getting out your gun and shooting him in the chest. the silencer on your gun made sure no sound was heard as he fell to the ground with a thud, clutching his chest and gasping for air as blood oozed out of the wound, staining the wooden floor crimson red.
but just then, something hits you on the back of your head with a sudden force and you clutch your head in pain, falling to your knees as you try to look up. you grit your teeth and get up, dodging the other attack but your head is still ringing from the hit. you see how the man grabs the near-empty wine bottle and smashes it against the wall, creating a sharp glass shard, almost like a dagger. you get up as he attacks, swiftly trying to move out of the way. unfortunately, you end up tripping on the carpet that folded over and you miss the way his other hand lunges out, and the sharp glass shard pierces into your skin, just over your waist as it drags along your lower abdomen, digging into your flesh. you hiss in pain and raise your gun, aiming at his leg as you shoot him and he yells out in pain and falls down. after you torture him a little and find intel on him and who sent him before putting a bullet straight through his head.
fifteen minutes later, you kick his body, adjusting the position and plant information in the room and his phone to look like this was done by his employees who were tired of his threats and doing all the dirty work for him. you climb out the window and use the window ledges to climb down. you discard your coat in your bag and cover yourself with another coat, adjusting your outfit before walking out of the alleyway and onto the sidewalk. you walk straight ahead, not looking back. the dull pain of the stab starting to sting as you walk as you clutch your coat tightly around you.
you reach back home, ignoring mingyu in the kitchen as you go straight to your room, the door slamming unintentionally behind you.
“y/n?”, mingyu calls out. you ignore him and go to the bathroom and locking the door, sitting down against the bathtub as you lift your shirt up to access the wound. it was a deep cut no doubt, thankfully no vital organs had been hit. you don’t know if you should say that you were lucky or if the bastard just had terrible aim. but the cut was messy and well bloody.
“are you ignoring me now?”, you hear mingyu shout out. he knocks on the bathroom door.
“y/n what happened?”, he asks, a sudden shift in his tone.
“nothing i’m fine mingyu, i can’t use the bathroom in peace?”, you counter.
“stop lying, i saw the drops of blood trailing to your room. open the door now”, he demands.
you sigh. why did he have to be so aware of his surroundings. talk about occupational hazards.
“i’m fine mingyu, stop overreacting”, you say, not hearing a reply, thinking he must’ve left.
after a minute, you hear the door lock rattle and unlock, mingyu pushing the door open and once his eyes land on you they darken.
“what the fuck, mingyu? i could have been naked, you can’t just barge in like that”, you say, annoyed and shocked.
“i can if it’s an emergency and did you forget i have the keys baby, this is my house so my rules”, he counters as he walks over to you and sees you cover the wound with your hand. not that it helps because your hand is all bloody too.
“shit baby, you’re bleeding bad”, he tells, kneeling down so he could match your height so he can acess the wound, seeing the blood ooze out from the side of your palm as you pressed against the cut, trying to put some pressure on it.
you glare at him at the mention of that stupid nickname. “i told you not to call me that and i don’t need your help”, you grit out, pushing his hand away when he moves to help you.
“you either take my help like a good girl or you can shut up, your choice sweetheart”, he says, staring you down.
and before you can even protest or say anything, he’s lifting you off the edge of the bathtub and sitting you down on the countertop beside the sink.
“are you deaf? i said i can manage on my own, i don’t need your help mingyu”, you say, trying to move but the movement causes pain to shoot up through your left side, making you let out a soft whimper of pain.
mingyu wastes no time in fetching the medical kit and his hand is already moving to lift you shirt so he can see the wound. you side-eye him as you lift the shirt, bunching it at your ribs.
“you’re so annoying”, you mumble as he assesses the wound.
“you should look at yourself in the mirror”, he says, making you lean back a bit so he could see the cut fully. you hiss in pain when the disinfectant comes in contact with your skin, biting your lip as it burns. this was the one thing you could never get used to.
“ow, just make sure there are no tiny glass pieces”, you mumble and he snaps his head up. “glass?”, he asks and your nod confirms his suspicions. he takes his time, making sure no tiny shards of glass are left as he cleans your wound. you close your eyes as he cleans the cut and wipes away all the blood, but your heavy breathing wasn’t helping, making a little blood seep out every time you took a breath in and out.
“relax baby”, he coos, his hands resting on your thighs as he looks at you, standing between your legs as he discards another piece of bloody cotton to the side.
“i would if you just left me alone”, you snap out.
he rolls his eyes. “you’re so stubborn, it’s infuriating”, he says, leaning closer
“i could say the same thing about you, you’re so fucking irritating”, you answer back.
“i really don’t know why you’re acting like an idiot when i’m trying to help you”
“i never asked for your help did i, mingyu?”
“so what? i’m doing a favor and being nice”
“by helping me when i said i didn’t want your help”, you emphasise, as you move up to sit up straighter, not realizing how close you had ended up getting to him.
“just stay still”, he demands and you don’t bother talking back this time as he cleans up the cut.
“whoever did this, i’ll kill him”, he mutters as he wraps a gauze around your waist to cover the cut.
“already did”, you confirm and wince a little as he tightens the gauze.
“there, you’re all set”, he says once he’s done, looking at you, and he’s still so close. your gaze flickers down to his lips before flickering to the side. maybe a part of you hated him because of how attractive you found him…god. you didn’t want to make things unnecessarily complicated. it was easier to hate him than admit he had an effect on you.
you’re walking back home after just killing someone (yet another side assingment seungcheol put you on) when you notice a car following you from behind. shit. did they place someone to guard the house? you had to think quickly and shake off the tail otherwise things would get complicated. but then the car speeds up and honks, the window opening, and to your horror, it’s mingyu. what the hell was he doing here?
“what are you doing here?”, you nearly shout. “were you stalking me?”
“i’ll explain later, but get in”, mingyu says.
“i can get home myself thank you. i need to stop by somewhere too”, you say, which was a lie. you just didn’t want to listen to him given you weren’t playing house right now.
“it’s going to rain”, he adds, as you start walking and he follows you with the car.
“it’s not going to rain mingyu”, you say, walking ahead, ignoring him.
and not even a minute later, you feel the first few drops of rain fall on you. dammit.
“see, i told you it was going to rain”, he says.
“i have an umbrella, i’ll manage, just go”, you tell, annoyed that he was right.
you pretend to look in your bag because, of course, you don’t have a fucking umbrella. the rain starts to pour down heavier and if you don’t make a choice now, you were going to get drenched.
“i know you don’t have an umbrella, y/n, so stop being stubborn and get in the fucking car”, he yells louder, getting impatient.
you stop and look at him. “did you just yell at me?”, you ask, narrowing your eyes at him.
he rolls his eyes and sighs. “you’re so stubborn god, what are you going to lose by getting in the damn car. you’re already getting soaked,” he adds.
“ask me nicely”, is all you say as you stare back at him, challenging him.
“y/n get in the car because it’s raining”, he says giving you a fake smile too.
“you didn’t say please”, you add and he sighs, gripping the steering wheel harder.
“y/n please get in the car”, he repeats and you shoot him a small satisfied smile as you open the door and get in the car.
“okay now care to explain why you were following me?”, you tell.
“care to explain why you’re so damn stubborn?”, he counters.
“i am not stubborn, stop being an ass and just tell me why you were following me”, you say.
“i’m the ass? like you weren’t acting like one by not getting in the car”, he says making you scoff.
“fuck you, mingyu”, you sneer, looking out the window as the rain poured harder. the rest of the car ride is silent but you’re glad. if you had to talk to him for another minute right now you’d end up strangling him on the spot.
the rest of the few weeks goes by with you going to a few more events to socialize and familiarize yourselves with the environment, the people and also gather valuable information and intel. mingyu and you seem to play the husband-wife role pretty convincingly. you both come back home late that night but you barely manage to sleep. since you were up early, you decide to hit the gym. one of the perks of this house was that it had a fully equipped gym room, courtesy of mingyu of course.
when you enter the room, you quickly realise you’re not alone and mingyu was there too. great. you were almost going to exit but you catch yourself. you didn’t do anything wrong, so why run? you walk in to see mingyu doing some pull-ups. his back was to you but you’re sure he noticed your presence - of course he did. you watch as he does a few more pull-ups, the muscles on his back and arms flexing with each move.
“stop ogling me”, mingyu’s voice floats in the room, breaking the silence.
“im not ogling you, gross”, you scoff, disgusted. “i thought seungcheol told you to stop walking around shirtless”, you add, giving him a look.
“relax, baby, i’ll put on a shirt later, i know you’re enjoying the view”, he smiles back as he jumps down and turns to face you. asshole.
“yeah, right”
“you were literally ogling me right now”, he deadpans.
“I WAS NOT! stop calling it that. i was just assessing where i need to strike first in order to kill you, you know, for research purposes”, you snap back, only for him to smirk back at you.
“yeah? i’ll choose to believe that little lie for now but i’d like to see you try”, he provokes, walking closer to you.
“oh yeah? i’d love to. the moment this operation is done, i’ll be coming for you, so you better watch your back”, you tell, playing along as you cross your arms across your chest.
“hm, whatever you say, baby”, he says, stepping closer until he’s towering over you. you look up at him and stare back. not that pet name again. you told him countless times not to call you that, it was infuriating, but he just didn’t get it, did he? he needed to be taught a lesson. in a blink of an eye, you grab your knife which you kept concealed and grab mingyu’s arm, swinging him so his back hits the wall with a thud, the cold metal of the knife to his neck.
“if you call me baby one more time, i swear i will actually strangle and kill you”, you threaten, staring right up at mingyu. mingyu’s surprised and amused. it would be a lie to say he didn’t find you hot right now.
“always carry a knife around with you?”, he prompts, raising his eyebrow.
you smile, leaning closer to him as you whisper in his ear. “it’s my favorite one, it’ll slice your neck and you wouldn’t even know it until you’re choking and gasping on the floor”, you tell.
“yeah, baby? i can’t wait to see you try”, he whispers back, his hands grabbing your waist, spinning you, his other hand reaching up to hold both your hands up by the wrist, pinning you to the wall. you try to move but his grip was solid.
“so, how are you going to kill me now?”, he mocks, pushing you against the wall, his body pressing against yours. he looks at you, his nose almost brushing against yours.
“i could maybe snap your neck right now or still slice your neck, your choice”, you say, blinking up at him innocently.
“yeah? care to show me how?”, and so you do, bringing your leg up to knee him in the shin, swiftly wrapping your arm around his shoulder as you kick his feet, making him lose his balance. you push him down and knock him to the ground and he falls on his back. he’s lucky he lands on the foam mattress that was on the side and you waste no time in bending down and straddling him, holding your knife to his neck, and adding a little pressure this time for fun.
“any last words?”, you ask and he just smiles up at you.
“i’ll spare you for now because we have a mission to complete”, you add, getting up as you push off him but he grabs you, flipping you over in the blink of an eye so that he’s hovering over you now.
“i take it you want me to stab you anyway?”, you ask, the knife still strong in your grip.
“why do you hate me so much?”, he asks, looking down at you, his body caging yours.
“you really want to know?”,
“im so curious”, he tells lowly.
“because you’re so fucking cocky about everything and too full of yourself”, you tell, looking up at him. “and you’re an idiot who only thinks he’s handsome and just everything about you is infuriating”, you spit.
“really? i think you forgot to add the part where you have a small crush on me?”, he adds with a smirk and you’ve had enough. you place your hands on his chest and push him off you, sitting up.
“that’s the biggest lie i’ve ever heard”, you say.
“i just know it baby…oops i mean, y/n”, he says, getting up to fetch his bottle of water as he walks to the side.
“but you did just call me handsome”, he points out as he takes a sip of water.
“i did not”, you grit out. “and i do not have a crush on you. if you were the last man on earth i would gladly die single”, you grit out.
“lies, you spew such lies, y/n”, he says, laughing.
the next morning you see mingyu in the kitchen and he smiles, fucking smiles at you.
“i was expecting you to sneak into my room last night and-“ “slit your throat? oh yeah i was so tempted but i thought that would be too painful”, you tell innocently.
“or you’re just scared to do it”, he says.
“i think you forget i’m a trained assassin. i know more than 20 ways to kill a man so you should be careful. you should start by hoping i didn’t poison the coffee you’re drinking right now”, you say before turning and walking away.
you hear him chuckle but it fades away after a few seconds. “wait…you didn’t really spike my coffee right…y/n…”, mingyu asks and you smirk to yourself, not giving him an answer as you make your way back to your room. 1 for y/n, 0 for mingyu.
things are starting to get serious now. it’s two days before the big event and you have a meeting at the safehouse with seungcheol, dokyeom, dino and vernon, who are all going to help you in pulling this off by working behind the scenes. seokmin told you that he’ll get you the knock-off painting in a van that evening and dino would help assist you while vernon be there to hack the security systems and cameras when needed.
the plan was that you’d leave to the auction and watch around. you’d have to make a few bids too, so you’d blend in and seungcheol had given you the money so you were free to bid on anything you liked. then there was a 45-minute break between and it was in that break that you had to steal the painting without getting caught. dino would be waiting down in a van, pretending he was a driver and he’d take off with the painting. the only thing left was pulling this off. with the level of security that this event was going to have, you needed to do everything right to pull this off. you were excited.
it's finally d-day. you’re getting ready in your room, due to leave in 15 minutes. you spent the entire day figuring out what to wear. it was a posh event, so you had to wear something pretty, something that would make heads turn, something that would make me look like you fit in there - something exquisite. you decided to go buy a dress earlier because you didn’t have anything fancy to wear with you, since you’d left most of those types of dresses back home, only bringing essentials along when you moved in with mingyu for the time being. you ended up buying a pretty sweet and head turning dress, something fancy in your favourite color too. it was a maroon, satin dress, which went all the way down to the floor. there was a slit for the leg that stopped just short of your thigh. the highlight of the dress was the back – it was backless, with a criss-cross strap that had to be tied. the only problem, you couldn’t seem to reach back to tie it tight enough that it wouldn't unravel during the night.
you wore your heels - white glitter ones to contrast the red dress. you checked your makeup in the mirror one last time and tried to tie the strings on your back again but you couldn’t seem to get the crisscross pattern right and you were struggling to tie it up. just then you hear a knock on your door.
“y/n are you ready? we have to leave in five minutes”, mingyu says from outside.
“okay!”
and five minutes later, you’ve given up, groaning as you bring your arms down, knocking your arm on the table in the process. “ouch”, you say in frustration and mingyu knocks on your door again.
“y/n? are you okay?”, he asks again, opening the door slightly. you get up to open the door and mingyu looks at you. you watch as his eyes rake all over your body as checks you out. you stare back at his face and he’s still staring at you, his eyes moving over every part of your body. you ask him something but he doesn’t reply, still staring, devouring you with his eyes as he takes you in.
“finished eye fucking me?”, you ask, annoyed, bringing his attention back to you. he looks at you and smirks. “i wasn’t done but i can continue later”, he teases.
“whatever, can you help me tie my dress in the back? i just can’t seem to reach it”, you ask him and he stands up straighter and you realize this wasn’t the sort of question or help he was expecting you to ask.
“sure”, is all he says and you turn around, holding your hair up so mingyu could tie your dress.
“you have to crisscross it and then tie it”, you explain, looking at his reflection in the mirror in front of you.
as he ties your dress, his fingers rub your bare back occasionally, sending sparks all over you body. he pulls back the threads to make them tight. you watch from the mirror as he tries his best to carefully tie it. he looked…so fucking good tonight. the suit was tailor made for him, making him look crisp and sharp. you’d have to painfully admit that he did indeed look hot tonight but you catch yourself and swat those thoughts and any other intruding thoughts away immediately. you’re about to move a bit forward when he pulls back again, securing the knot, and then his eyes find yours in the mirror reflection.
“you look gorgeous”, he whispers against your ear, making a shiver run down your spine.
“i know, thanks for the confirmation though”, you say, not willing to be swayed by his comment and how much he seemed to be affecting you right now.
“let’s go steal a painting”, you say with a smirk.
you drive to the event, and somehow mingyu managed to snag a limo to the event. don’t ask how, it was probably seungcheol’s doing but now you’re driving there. you put your in-ears on for further communication with mingyu and the others on the mission. woozi had designed it so it look like an ear cuff, making it look less suspicious on you. mingyu’s was transparent in the front, so it blended in.
“relax”, mingyu says after a few minutes of silence in the car as he sits opposite you.
“i am relaxed”
“you look tense”
“i’ve stolen plenty of stuff before so this is a piece of cake”, you tell.
“we got this”, he assures.
you reach the venue and get down, mingyu offering you his hand as you step out of the car. you take it and you automatically wrap your arm around his as you both walk in together. you stand behind a few people, all waiting to move inside and everyone is holding the same invitation you are holding. when it’s finally your turn, mingyu shows the person your invites and after scanning it for a few seconds he hands it back to us, telling us to enjoy our time here. you’re handed a number picket from the counter the moment you enter, for you to make bids.
the auction starts in an hour since people are still coming. most of the vvip and vip guests coming later for security reasons. you walk to the hall and scan the crowd for anyone you know or can recognize. mingyu does too. you agree to split up and scan the hall so it would be faster, mingyu going left while you go right. after you’ve confirmed who’s coming and who’s yet to come, cross checking with the guest list that you’ve memorized that jeonghan managed to get his hands on. there were still a few guests and vips left to arrive. all the vvips or vips who did arrive were on the other side of the hall, with higher security. jihyo hadn’t arrived yet and you couldn't see anyone from soyeon’s team either. but you did spot hwasa; she had multiple businesses and was a trendsetter. anything she touched, ate or wore was sold out, she was that good, and everyone loved her. it was going to be interesting to see what she bids for here.
after gathering all the information you needed, you’re turning around when a man bumps into you.
“oh, im so sorry”, he says, turning around.
“it’s no problem”, you say, putting your hand up. he looks at you again, shamelessly checking you out and you roll your eyes as you turn to walk away again, but he grabs your hand.
“wait, i don’t think i’ve seen you around, are you new here?”, he asks, hopeful, but you had no interest in entertaining him.
“yeah, i just moved here”, you say, quickly, pulling you hand out of his grip. “i have to go”, you add.
“see you at the auction? which number are you, i’ll try to sit at your table”, he asks, getting desperate.
“that’s all right, im fine”, you say again, trying your best to be nice.
“come on, don’t be shy”, he adds with a chuckle. “girls are usually falling all over me”, he adds, maybe not liking how you were not falling for his tricks.
“can’t let beautiful women like yourself be alone at an event like this, can i? which table will you be seated at? i can show you around if you like”, he asks again and now you’re really starting to get irritated. you would have knocked him out by now if this was any other circumstance but you hold back, not wanting to cause a scene or mess anything up.
you’re about to say something when you feel a warm hand encircle your waist and from the smell of the cologne, you already know who it is – mingyu.
“there you are baby, i was looking for you”, he says sweetly, kissing your cheek as he pulls you closer to him. there’s a hint of possessiveness in his voice as he looks at the man who was talking to you.
“who’s this?”, mingyu asks, looking at you, his grip getting tighter around your waist.
“oh i’m sorry i just bumped into her and was apologizing”, the man fills in.
“i see. next time i suggest you watch where you’re going”, mingyu tells, glaring at the guy as he pulls you away, telling you that he wanted you to meet someone.
as you walk, you notice a few heads turn and people look at you but you just ignore it and walk like you belong there. you hear mingyu faintly curse under his breath.
“what?”, you ask
“you shouldn’t have worn that baby, everyone is staring at you”, he grits out lowly, jealousy evident in his voice.
“excuse me? are you sure you’re not the one staring? it doesn’t matter to me, as long as we steal the painting and get the job done”, you say, lifting your dress up slightly as you walk up the stairs to the auction hall.
“that idiot is following us”, he adds, spotting him from his peripheral vision.
“well, that’s annoying, we don’t need him tailing us. should i knock him out and throw him somewhere?”, you ask as you walk, smiling at a few people who welcome us at the top of the stairs.
“i’d have knocked him out myself if i had to but that’s a risky move for now”, he says. we reach the upper floor and mingyu holds your hand as he leads me to the left side of the hall, where there are fewer people. mingyu’s back faces the people as you look ahead.
“is he still looking at us?”, mingyu asks, his back facing the man who was still following you.
“yeah but what do we-“, you’re cut off by mingyu’s hand tilting your chin as he leans in to kiss you, his lips pressed against yours. he pulls away ever so slightly as he looks at you.
“mingyu-", he kisses you again, this time moving his lips against yours and your move my lips too, kissing him back. he pulls away a few seconds later.
“what are you doing?”, you finish your sentence, shocked.
“now look, he’ll be trying to find a new target to woo”, he tells and you look, seeing the man already talking to another group of women, hoping to find a different date.
“worked like a charm”, he says, with a satisfied smirk. and that’s when the action of what mingyu just did hits you, but you decide not to say anything, not wanting to yell at him or draw any more attention to yourself. you’d give him hell about this later.
the auction is about to begin and you find a table to the front, and sit down. you mentally make a note of where a few other vips are sitting and scan the crowd. you spot jihyo in the front, surrounded by a few bodyguards who are off to the side.
“good evening ladies and gentlemen! welcome to the annual auction hosted by the national museum of culture and arts. we are pleased to have you all here. we will be starting the auction and the rules are simple – the highest bidder wins, so have fun. we would also like to mention that part of the funds collected from the auction will be put aside to aid in cultural growth and in preserving national treasures and artifacts. we will also be partnering with Vision to offer scholarships to five students. your contributions will be deeply appreciated.", the host welcomes and explains.
"and the most anticipated part of the night, the beautiful painting ‘the great fields of sorrow’ by lily lee will be unveiled to the public after 20 years. you do not want to miss this, it is truly a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and we are so glad you are all here to witness history in the making. now, let us begin”, the host announces, gleefully.
the auction begins and the first few bids go by fast, people bidding left, right, and center. but it’s towards the end that the most valuable artifacts and paintings start coming out. you have your eye on this one painting, you’d seen it in the auction catalog earlier and you were determined to get it. the moment the painting comes up to be bid, you grab the picket from mingyu and raise you hand, making a bid.
“what are you doing?”, mingyu asks.
“bidding?”, you tell like it wasn’t obvious to mingyu right now.
a few more people bid on the painting but you bid again, raising the bid higher and higher each time. but some women keeps bidding along as well and you weren’t going to lose this. you raise you hand, making the bid higher and now it’s just you and the other woman raising hands as you both try to outbid each other.
“what are you doing? drop it”, mingyu says next to you.
“no, that painting’s mine”, you grit out, raising your hand again to raise the bid. anyone could be able to feel the tension in the room right now.
“y/n, we don’t have that much money to spend, are you crazy?”, he asks, turning towards me.
"i don’t care, i want that”, you tell, raising your hand to make another bid, raising the price impossibly high. people who were bored and had no interest in the auction were suddenly watching us carefully, eager to see who would finally win the bid.
the lady falters, wondering if she should raise the bid and no one else raises their hand to make another bid. you smile to yourself.
“going once”, the man says, hoping the lady would change her mind and raise the bid.
“going twice….and sold”, he declares, the wooden hammer hitting the wooden plate and you’re smiling in victory.
“i won”, you tell mingyu.
“yeah and you better be explaining to seungcheol why his assets suddenly depleted” mingyu tells.
“at least seungcheol would let me have it, unlike you, sitting here and complaining, it’s so annoying”, you add, clicking your tongue.
“you’re the annoying one”, he says without missing a beat and you kick his leg from under the table, giving him a fake smile. “shut up and don’t get on my nerves”, you tell through gritted teeth, making a few heads turn. you clear your throat and sip on your champagne, smiling at the few people who turn to look at you.
that was the last bid and the auction had now ended. people start getting up to either grab a drink and talk or to go make arrangements to collect their paintings or artifacts that they just bought. this was indeed a good way you could sneak the real painting out. you quickly intercom with dino and you coordinate with him, vernon listening in too so he’d know which cameras to hack and take down.
“we should go, we have only 45 minutes before the painting is revealed”, you tell, getting up and walking out to the outer hall. there is music playing and someone is singing. the host announces that people can dance if they like and a few people do, couples peppered across the floor as they dance and sway together. you steer right away from the crowd and start moving downstairs when mingyu grabs your hand, blocking your path.
“care to dance?”, he asks.
“no i don’t dance”, you tell but mingyu ignores you and holds your hand as he guides you to the hall where the crowd was, choosing a quiet corner and pulling you closer to him, his hand resting on your waist as his other hand is intertwined in yours.
“mingyu i said i don’t want to dance”, you tell, slightly annoyed.
“i know, but i do”, he says and you find yourself moving closer to him as your rest your other hand on his shoulder, trying not to bump into the person behind you. you both sway to the soft music that plays and mingyu locks eyes with you, a small smile playing on his face and you don't realise how close you've gravitated towards him.
“we’re wasting time, let’s go”, you tell after two minutes.
“a little fun never hurt, you need to learn to let loose a little, sweetheart”, he tells, looking at you and you don’t miss the way his gaze flickers down to your lips.
“but you really should have worn something else”, he whispers near your ear. “i’m starting to get jealous at the way all the other guys are starting at you."
"it's a pretty sweet outfit isn't it”, you say softly and the the corner of his mouth lifts into a faint smile.
“hm let’s go”, he says, pecking your cheek as he intertwines his hand in yours. you walk down together and walk towards the restrooms. when the path looks clear, you take a detour to the staff room, which would give you access to the basement and other private areas of the building. jeonghan had given you copies of the access key too, so you could now slip into any room you liked without having to break any alarms.
you’d already memorized the layout of the room and knew exactly where the safe room would be located.
“you brought a gun right?”, you ask.
“what do you think baby, of course, i did”, he answers raising his brow. it was hidden using a chip that emitted waves and would not be picked up by any electronic scanner, which is how it got sneaked in successfully. another one of woozi’s genius creations. you reach the safe room but there were two guards up ahead.
“vernon, can you hack the walkie-talkies? tell the guards to move to the upper level”, you ask.
“on it”, vernon responds immediately and in two minutes the guards start walking away and turning around the corner.
you run up and unlock the door using the key card, opening the door and quickly shutting it behind you. you unlock another door and finally head inside the safe room, where the painting and other treasures were stored.
the painting is easy to find, it’s kept in a bulletproof glass box but that’s when you realise something is wrong.
the painting is bigger. it’s not the same size seokmin had told you. you panic because this would now hold you back and you had to think on your feet to figure something out quickly.
“what the fuck?”, you tell. “how are we supposed to discreetly steal this huge painting?”, you almost yell at mingyu who’s looking at you, confused as well.
“i don’t know, we just take it and walk out”,
“and let everyone know we stole it, mingyu? that’s just genius. why don’t we just announce it to the whole world then”, you yell back, annoyed.
“i thought seokmin told us it was going to be smaller? this isn’t the same size he mentioned”, you tell, running a hand through your hair.
“i think he forgot to add one digit in the dimensions”, mingyu tells and you mentally face-palm yourself.
“so now what do you want me to do?”
“i don’t know just take it and we place the decoy and leave”
“the decoy isn’t even the same fucking size mingyu”, you yell, getting impatient.
“fuck”, he curses under his breath. “let’s just take the painting and go”,
“how do i just take it, mingyu? do you want me to shove this painting up my ass and leave? how the hell are we going to walk out with it? didn’t you tell dino was waiting down in the van? how can we possibly walk with this huge painting all the way to the basement and give it to dino without anyone seeing us and not put the knock-off.”, you tell, getting more and more impatient with each passing second.
“jesus, y/n im trying to figure it out so please calm down”, mingyu snaps back.
“is everything okay?”, vernon’s voice fills your ear.
“wait guys, seokmin just told me that he has the proper decoy size in the van downstairs”, vernon tells after a few minutes of silence.
“wait what do you mean?”, you ask.
“he just told me saying he put the correct decoy painting size in the van, and that he realized he’d messed up the dimensions and got it remade. he said his printer had ran out of ink and missed printing one digit”, vernon explains calmly.
“then send it in, we have like 20 minutes before the painting gets showcased!”, you yell at vernon.
“dino’s on his way with it, just hold on”, vernon assures, going back to intercom with dino.
meanwhile, you and mingyu try to figure out how to unlock the box. the box had a passcode and three wrong tries and it would alarm the security, so you had to be careful. woozi had given you a decoder which mingyu had hidden outside and you grabbed on the way to the safe room. mingyu attaches the decoder and you watch as the numbers scramble, trying to decode the pin and unlock the box.
“what’s taking so long”, you groan, clicking your tongue.
“y/n calm down. we’re fine”, mingyu says as he locks eyes with you.
“if seokmin hadn’t realized we’d have been fucked over big time mingyu, do you understand? we could have gotten caught. do you understand how big of a fucking problem that could have been? and you’re acting all high and mighty asking me to just take this painting and go like it won’t be so fucking obvious that it’s not the same painting. and dino needs to hurry up because there are only ten minutes left, and we need to take this and transport it all before they come in to take the painting out to display, so we’re short on-", you’re cut off by mingyu’s hands cupping your cheek as you feel his soft lips on yours, again.
“you really need to shut up sometimes”, he mumbles against your lips. maybe it was because you were in the heat of the moment, but you kiss mingyu back, grabbing him by his tie to pull him closer, closing the gap between you both.
“guys?”, vernon’s voice fills my ear through the in the ear but you both ignore him. “dino’s almost there”, he adds but none of you bother to reply, too busy kissing each other.
the safe door opens and closes in silence and dino steps into the room. (it had a anti slam and quiet door so it would be discreet and safe)
“i hope i’m not interrupting something?”, dino asks, making you break away from the kiss and the look on dino’s face is mischievous.
“n-no"." shit.
"did you get the proper knock off? hurry up we have to be out of here in ten minutes”, you tell, pushing mingyu off you and walking up to the box, which had successfully unlocked.
dino handles the real painting carefully, wearing a pair of cloth gloves before taking out the painting from the box with care and placing it on the wearable rack, and replacing it with the knockoff that he streathly managed to bring here; courtesy to vernon for hacking the camera footage and security walkie talkies. if you were asked to play spot the difference between the real painting and the fake one, you wouldn’t have been able to guess shit, the fake one was just that good. dino quickly covers the real painting in a satin white cloth and you quickly walk out. dino disguised as one of the staff and security members, so it would look like he was just taking the painting you had just bought to your car so you could take it home. thankfully the painting you bid on and bought was around the same size too and you bring it along as you leave. no one gives you any suspicious looks as you leave and you walk out with confidence, your arms locked in mingyu's as you both walk together.
you make it back up to the upper level and back to the hall before you take the elevator to the basement. dino loads the painting into the van and he and vernon take off. mingyu and you bounce as well, getting in the limo and telling your driver to take you back home, making the excuse that you weren't feeling to well when someone approached you, asking why you weren’t staying back to see the painting that was going to be revealed shortly.
as soon as you get in the car, you kick off your heels, relief flooding through your feet as you sit. you let out a big sigh and take the chance to open the bottle of champagne that’s in the car, pouring yourself a glass and mingyu one too, offering him the glass.
“to successfully stealing a painting”, you say, raising the glass to make a toast and he smiles. you down the glass in one shot, the adrenaline still pumping in your veins. placing the glass down, you look at mingyu, who’s still watching you.
“what?”, you ask mingyu, who looking at you like he wants something.
“nothing, you’re just…gorgeous”, he says.
“you flatter me too much, mingyu”, you say, getting up to move, picking up your dress slightly as you move to sit on his lap, straddling him. his hands find your waist immediately, pulling you closer against him as your hands rest on his shoulders. his hand cups your cheek as he leans forward to kiss you, moving his lips against yours, slow and long, kissing you like he’s been craving this all along. he deepens the kiss, biting your lower lip teasingly, making you let out a soft moan, your mind too fuzzy to care about what you were doing right now.
“fuck, you’ve been wanting this, haven’t you?”, he groans, kissing your jawline.
“i know you wore this dress on purpose baby, to rile me up”, he says and you kiss him in response and he kisses you back, this time with more vigor and passion.
“maybe”, is all you can say as mingyu’s lips are on yours again.
“i’ve been dreaming about this for so long, to kiss you, to have you”, he groans as he kisses your neck, your eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. your hands busy themselves with loosening his tie and undoing the first few buttons of his shirt.
“look at you, i thought you hated me baby”, he mumbles against your neck.
“i still do”, you tell, your voice coming out breathy and soft as he leaves a trail of kisses along your collarbone, his hands roaming your body, his touch sending shivers and sparks throughout your body.
“what if dino tells on us”, you realise, whispering softly as he continues to leave soft kisses on your neck.
“you’re worried about that baby? worried he’ll run his mouth and tell everyone you were kissing me? the person you claimed you hated?”, he teases, pressing a kiss to the corner of my mouth.
he kisses you again, trailing more kisses to your jawline before his hand reaches over to cup your cheek as he pulls you in, capturing your lips with his again, making butterflies erupt in your stomach. you kiss him back, and somehow you couldn’t seem to get enough, getting dizzy on how he feels and tastes. he was driving you crazy. he pulls you closer against him, his grip on your waist tightening with each kiss and you start to lose track of how long you’ve been at it, making out. thank god for the partition between the driver and you was tinted. the car finally comes to a halt in and mingyu breaks away. “we’re home”.
and just like that, mingyu guides you home and wastes no time in kissing you again once you’re behind closed doors, guiding you to his room while he never breaks away, kissing you breathlessly.
the next morning, you wake up tangled in mingyu’s arms and the events of last night come crashing onto you. you turn around to face mingyu and he lazily pulls you closer to him, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.
“go back to sleep”, he mumbles and you push away a few stray hairs from his face.
“you’re so lazy”, you say, as you move to get out of his arms, but he tightens his grip, not letting you leave.
“don’t make me slit your throat mingyu, let me go”. you say teasingly, poking his arm and he finally loosens up. just then the doorbell rings. you get up and take a peek, seeing seungkwan standing outside. you open the door but the expression on his face tells you that something is wrong.
“what’s wrong?”, you ask, as he steps in.
“dino- he- the painting…dino is…”, seungkwans stutters out, making no sense.
“what happened?” you ask again, putting your hands on seungkwan’s shoulders to try and calm him down.
“dino, he got intercepted by another gang and they’re holding the painting and dino hostage”, seungkwan spills out.
fuck.
after hearing that you waste no time in going back to the safe house with mingyu.
“how’d they contact you? how did they know we were going to be there”, you ask seungcheol. with him are joshua, vernon, seokmin, and hoshi.
“we’re not sure”, seokmin says.
“but what i’m sure of is either they had a tail on you or you told them our location”, seungcheol says, looking at you straight in the eye.
“what the fuck are you implying?”, mingyu defends immediately.
“no i would never do that seungcheol and you know that”, you tell, staring him down.
“how can you even say that”, mingyu adds.
“because they want you in exchange for returning the painting and dino back safely y/n”, seungcheol tells and you pause, trying to process what he just said.
“what?”, is all you can say after a few seconds of silence.
“that’s what they negotiated with seungkwan”, seungcheol tells. “and if you two had responded to vernon then we could have maybe sorted this out earlier. there was no response from the both of you after last night”, seungcheol adds, looking between you and mingyu. you gulp, hoping he can’t possibly guess what you and mingyu were up to last night.
“here are the terms of negotiation”, seungkwan adds, sliding over a piece of paper to you.
if you want to get back your precious painting and friend, do the following. tell anyone or try to pull anything funny, otherwise the only thing you’ll be getting in return is your friend’s dead limp body and a police raid. so, follow the instructions carefully
1) we want the girl in exchange for the painting and your friend
2) come to the abandoned warehouse by the paddy fields tonight at 8:00pm
3) the girl comes alone and that’s it. once she comes, we’ll have the painting and your friend released.
4) no guns, or weapons, and don’t try or even think to act smart in any way unless you want to be responsible for your friend’s death.
the letter was signed off with a stamp of the gang seal, which you faintly recognized for some reason.
“i’ll go”, is all you say because it doesn’t look like you have any other option right now. you didn’t care about the painting but you did care about dino and you had to make sure he’d come back safe.
“there’s no way in hell she’s going alone”, mingyu interjects, cleary upset.
“mingyu, stop it”, you yell at him. who was he to tell you what to do?
“mingyu stop putting your emotions into the mission, we have a problem, and i’m going to deal with it accordingly, or else im putting you out”, seungcheol says.
“what is wrong with you? you’re just going to let them have y/n?”, mingyu asks, getting up, frustrated, running a hard through his already messy hair.
after a few more arguments, things start getting heated between seungcheol and mingyu, seokmin pulls him away from the room and you manage to finish the rest of the conversation with seungcheol. back home, mingyu’s still tense and he hits the gym to try and take off some of his anger and frustration.
you don’t know why he was acting like this to be honest. you could manage perfectly well on your own, it wasn’t like you were going to die or anything. he seemed to be making a big deal about this and it was getting on your nerves. you’re in your room and you can hear the sound and impact of mingyu’s punches on the boxing bag through the walls. what the fuck was he so worked up for? you try ignore the sound and get back to getting ready for tonight.
you know they said no weapons but you weren’t going to go in blind. your pants had a secret pocket where you could hide my small knife easily and it was undetectable. you decide to carry a few more, concealing them in secret pockets so no one would even know. you had everything planned and you weren't going to let the person who took dino off so easily. just then you hear mingyu’s footsteps as he leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. you ignore him, getting up and checking the time. you had to leave in five minutes if you were going to make it there in time. you look at mingyu’s who’s studying you closely.
“what mingyu? stop staring it’s annoying”, you tell, breaking the silence, walking towards the door so you can leave, but he blocks your path.
“you’re not fucking going anywhere y/n”, he grits out.
“what the fuck? who are you to tell me what to do? i know what i’m doing okay and you need to chill out”, you say, trying to push past him but he doesn’t let you.
“mingyu move, im getting late”, you say in a stern voice.
“i’m coming with you then”, he hisses, grabbing you as he pushes you against the wall.
“no you’re fucking not, stay out of this mingyu, it’s none of your business”
“it is because it involves you”, he says, without missing a beat, leaning closer.
“mingyu, don’t let what happened last night make you all soft for me okay, whatever happened just happened. don’t try to use that to determine what our relationship is now”, you say, trying to sound stern but your voice falters a bit when his hands dig into your waist tighter. he crashes his lips into yours, and the kiss is hot and heavy and angry. your lips move on their own, kissing him back, grabbing his arms for support.
“just promise me you’ll come back to me…alive”, mingyu mumbles against your lips.
“are you doubting me?", you scoff but he ignores the threat.
“and the first thing you’re going to do when you come back and see me is that you’re going to kiss me”, he demands.
“that’s so cheesy and cliché”, you tell, rolling your eyes.
“i’m not taking no for an answer”
“fine oh my god, you’re so stupid”, you mumble, kissing him one last time as he lets you go.
you reach the abandoned warehouse on time, with two minutes to spare. you look around but see no one around, the place dark and deserted. you decide to wait and stand outside to see if anyone shows up. after two minutes of waiting, you hear a rustle in the grass, standing alert, only to see a stray dog appear, but it had something in its mouth. the dog drops the things it was holding in front of your and runs off without warning. you carefully bend down to pick up the things, seeing a piece of paper and a black face cover that was meant to cover you entire face.
put on the mask on and be a good girl and wait
you crush the paper and scan your surroundings one more time before putting the mask on. after a few seconds, you realize the mask is laced with something, something strong and it’s too late because you’re already getting dizzy. your hand slips down as you fail to remove the mask and your knees give in as you fall to the ground, unconscious.
you wake up with the mask still over your head and groan, shaking your head, trying to get rid of the dizziness that’s was still lingering.
“she’s awake”, you hear someone say, immediately getting alert.
“call boss”, another voice adds.
you try to move but your hands are bound together tightly with a rope that’s painfully cutting into your wrists. you can faintly make out the light in the room, it must have been dimly lit. you hear a door open and footsteps, as they come closer to you and suddenly, the mask over your face is harshly yanked out. you close your eyes shut at the sudden intrusion of light and look around, trying to gather your surroundings as your eyes adjust to the light. you manage to look up, seeing a figure looming over you.
“hi there pretty girl, remember me?”, he asks menacingly. you blink your eyes as you scan his face, trying to remember who but you don’t.
“who the fuck are you?”, you lash out.
he clicks his tongue in response. “i’m disappointed, i thought you’d remember me after what you did, that’s a shame. but no worries, we still have time”, he says, one of his men dragging a chair and he takes a seat in front of you, leaning forward to get a better look at you, at your state.
“look at you. you’re supposed to be highly skilled right? but here you are, tied up for me to play with. i’m excited”, he tells laughing, a grin forming on his face.
“fuck off, where’s dino”, you spit out and you see the flash of anger that courses through him.
he grabs your face harshly, making you look at him, his hand gripping your jaw.
“behave or else i’ll get angry and slice up your friend. you don’t want that do you?”, he warns, putting pressure on your jaw as he squeezes your cheeks tighter. you squirm in his grip and he finally lets you go, your head hitting the wall in the process.
“where is he?”, you ask again, breathing hard. “i kept up my end of the deal”, you grit out.
“oh i will tell you where he is, but i just want to have a little fun with you before that happens”, he says, a glint in his eyes. he gets up and walks away, saying something to the other men in the room which you don’t quite catch.
that night, you’re alone, only with one guy, whom you assume was supposed to keep an eye on you. you try wriggle out of the rope, and even though it burns, you brush the pain away as the rope digs into your wrist. you smile to yourself once your wrists are free. people really had to learn how to tie secure knots really. you stealthily get up while the guard is pathetically snoring. you roll your eyes and get up, stretching and grabbing a stone from the floor as you walk towards him. he opens his eyes just as you stand in front of him and he doesn’t get the chance to speak as you crash the stone into his skull and he falls to the ground, unconscious. you knocked him hard enough to knock him out but not kill him. you’re eyes have been trained to see in the dark and you make your way across the room, putting your ear to the door to hear for any voices or signs of life. your hands encloses on the doorknob and you slowly turn it, opening it and peeking out. the coast is clear and you step out and, your footsteps silent as you make your way to the end of the hall. the place abandoned so debris and dust was everywhere. after a few steps you faint voices coming towards you and you still against the wall, peeking your ear out to pick up on the conversation.
“how much do you think seungcheol would pay to have her back? i think he’s her most valuable asset”, the voice says, which you recognise as the boss’s voice. “hm let’s see if he wants the painting or her”, another voice chimes in and you furrow your brows. first of all you didn’t need seungcheol protecting you and secondly you were getting pissed at these thugs. you move your foot and knock into something on the floor.
“what was that?”, you hear the voice ask. you mentally curse and get ready to strike, coming out of the shadows and landing a kick right in the chest of one of the thugs. he falls to the ground with a grunt and loud thud.
“oh my, i see you seem to have escaped”, the boss man tells, looking at you, chuckling.
“where’s dino”, you ask, gripping the broken pipe you picked up on your way.
“I think it would be wise to drop that and not do anything stupid, unless you want your friend chopped up in pieces, i’ll glady do it and you know it”, he says, raisng a brow at you.
you study his face and you can tell he would. you’d dealt with enough people in the years you’d taken up this job to be able to read people like a book and this guy was not fooling around when he said he would indeed chop up dino. you grit your teeth as you drop the pipe and it rattles as it hits the ground, echoing in the empty hallway.
“good girl”, he tells condescendingly, smirking, satisfied. “now let’s get you back”, he adds, and this time you’re cuffed in chains, but you’d figure a way to get out.
two days go by and this boss guy is nowhere to be seen. you can tell he’s trying to weaken you by starving you but you could handle this. you’ve been through worse honestly. it’s the third night now and you’re getting impatient and a little tired of this waiting game.
“where the hell is your boss? did i scare him off? ask him to come here right now”, you demand
“he’s busy”, the guard tells, not even bothering to look at you, dismissing you completely.
“busy doing what? chickening out? tell him to come here right now”, you yell and probably because you kept belittling his ‘boss’, you hear him send another man to give the message. and sure enough, a few hours later the boss man comes walking in.
“i hear you were causing a ruckus”, he tells.
“where’s dino”, you demand.
“don’t worry about him. i’d worry about you because”, he says, getting down on one knee to come at eye level with me. “i’m going to take my time killing you slowly”, he says.
“yeah i’d rather enjoy killing you first”, you say.
“you really don’t recognize me, do you? stupid girl”, he spits out.
“uncuff her”, he says, getting up.
“boss but-“
“DO IT”, he shouts, the men cowering and one of them immediately scrambles down to undo the chain on you. as soon as you get free, you leap up, swaying your foot as you kick him down.
“why the fuck should i know who you are”, you say, reaching in your concealed pocket for a knife, but only feeling an empty space instead. there was no knife.
the boss chuckles and looks at you, laughing as he gets up, dusting himself off.
“looking for your precious knives? i thought i said not to bring anything. you thought you could fool me? i think not” he tells, smirking.
“how”, you whisper.
“you’re not the only one who has tricks up their sleeve”, he says in sing song voice, making you narrow your eyes at him.
“i’ve dedicated my whole life to this moment, to seeing you and killing you and you have the audacity to not even remember me”, he sneers, coming closer.
“cloud 9 enterprises, does that name ring a bell?”, he asks, stalking closer to you.
you wrack your brain. cloud 9 enterprises. that name was familiar and that case was famous too. the owner was supposedly making drugs, and disguising them as medication to sell, making people addicted and in plenty of bad ways too. lots of people died, innocent children and adults died because of those drugs he had disguised as a harmless medication. and you remember because you were the one sent to kill him. you look at the man’s face, looking at his features that somehow resemble the man you killed and it hits you.
“you’re his son”, you say.
“bingo”, he says smiling before landing a punch to your gut, making you fall down. “did you know i watched you kill him. i was hiding under his desk as i saw you slit his throat. can you imagine what that does to a child?”, he spits out. “after that day i’ve sworn i would get my revenge and now that i have you, it feels good”, he explains. he kicks you again but you dodge, swinging your leg and tripping him. you kick him again but his men come forward, grabbing you by the arms, holding you back. you thrash in their hold as he gets up. you knee one of the men and get loose but a few more men come forward and hold you down as, pushing you to your knees. he holds his hand out and someone gives him something – a syringe.
“this is a special concoction i made, just for you. i can’t wait to see how long you can last”, he chuckles coming forward and stabbing the syringe in your arm. the stab of the needle is sharp as he pushes the contents of the syringe inside your arm. you thrash even more, angry and they finally let you go. you yell out in frustration and try to land a punch but you miss.
“fuck you, i’ll kill you with my own hands”, you snap out, getting up and looking at him but your vision was playing tricks on you. you shake your head in an attempt to regain yourself and grab a metal stick that was thrown off to the side and jump to hit him, but you miss again. you groan in frustration.
“what did you do”, you shout as you get up, regaining you balance.
“you’ll die a slow painful death, as your organs and body start shutting down. you’ll probably last 36 hours or 48 hours if you manage to pull through”, he tells with a smile, stepping forward and you move to grab his arm, but before you can do anything you feel a sharp piecring pain in your abdomen and he looks at you and smiles as he pushes the knife furthur into you, stabbing you. you whine and yelp as he roughly pulls the knife out.
“how does it feel?”, he asks as you headbut him, not giving up yet. he groans as he pushes you off him, your back hitting the wall as you slump against it. he looks at you angry but chuckles as he looks at your state as he wipes his bloody nose with a cloth. you vaguely hear him say something like “dispose of the body where nobody can find it” and you hear dino’s name too but he’s already out the door.
you try to sit up and stop the bleeding, covering the torn flesh with your palms, and applying pressure to stop the bleeding. you’d managed to tear a part of your long sleeve shirt and use that to tie up the wound, putting the knot tight to somehow slow down the bleeding. you try to move and locate an escape route. there is a window but it’s too high up with no way for you to get to it unless you managed to move the stack of old wooden boxes. but in your state, you don’t think you could.
you don’t know when you fell asleep, it was probably the effect of whatever the drug he had injected you with. you sit awake, pain shooting through your abdomen in the process. the cloth you tied around is now soaked in blood and it’s starting to pool next to you. your hand is heavy as your try to lift it up and tear off your other sleeve to wrap it around the area.
in the far distance, gunshots can be heard and an angry and determined man is making his way into the hideout. “where the hell is she?”, mingyu shouts, the gun digging into the skull of a man who’s on his knees, his hands cuffed behind his back. his henchmen are all knocked out and scattered on the floor.
“she’s probably half dead by now”, he says, smiling, showing no remorse. this riles up mingyu even more and he pulls the man up and smashes him against the wall, his hand closing around his neck.
“what did you do?”, he asks, putting pressure on the man’s neck as dino stands behind him with jun.
he only half laughs as he starts to choke. “go find out yourself”, he mumbles and mingyu throws him to the ground and points his gun at him, shooting him point blank in the head, twice.
“mingyu! seungcheol wanted him alive”, jun rasps out, seeing his limp body.
“he was going to kill him any way i just did him a favor”, mingyu tells, only earning a look of disapproval from jun. “i’ll explain it to him”, mingyu adds.
mingyu searches the entire building, looking for you, until he stumbles across a room that’s been locked from the outside, and something familiar glints in the corner – knives, your knives. mingyu grabs a broken-off stone from the side and uses it to break open the lock, hammering down on it till it breaks. the door swings open and he spots you slumped on the floor in the far corner of the room.
“y/n”, he shouts as he rushes towards you and kneels down in front of you. “fuck fuck fuck”, he mumbles as he sees the blood pooling on the side.
your body stirs awake again at the familiar scent of cologne and you open your eyes. mingyu? were you hallucinating? was this a side effect of the drug?
“mingyu?”, you ask, not sure if this was real.
“y/n, hey, it’s okay, im here now”, he says hurridely, pulling you onto his lap and you yelp in pain.
“shit sorry, but we need to get you out of here”, he explains.
“what are you doing here?”, you ask stupidly.
“i’m here for you, y/n. you didn’t come back and we got another threat and i knew something was wrong. fuck, i should have come earlier”, he explains.
“w-what about dino?”, you muster out with whatever strength you had.
“he’s here and he’s okay. we have the painting too. the van is down, i just need to get you out”, he says.
he tries to carefully scoop you in his arms but you whimper in pain again.
“i’m sorry but we’re almost there okay”, he assures, carrying you out. the jerks from the way he was running caused pain and you whined as he kept saying we were almost there. you hear dino’s faint voice as he opens the back of the van and mingyu rushes inside, gently laying you down on his lap.
“drive drive go!”, mingyu shouts, getting anxious.
“she’s hurt. badly”, dino adds.
“we should’ve brought wonwoo along, dammit. call him and ask him what to do to stop the bleeding”, mingyu commands.
“he-he injected something in me, some drug. said it would stop my organs and body functions within 36 hours”, you mumble out and mingyu’s face pales.
“how long as it been?”
“i don’t-maybe 24 hours”, you mumblr out, your memory hazy.
“here, wonwoo’s on the line”, dino says, holding out the phone so mingyu can speak on speakerphone.
“wonwoo, she’s bleeding out, she’s already lost a lot of blood, what do i do”, mingyu asks helplessly.
“just apply pressure to the wound and get her here”, he says, stern.
“fuck and he injected something in her, supposed to stop a person’s organs and body functions within 36 hours”, mingyu adds. “you can stop that right”, mingyu asks desperately and the line is silent for a few seconds.
“i don’t know it depends on how long it’s been-“
“24 hours”
“get her here, i’ll see what i can do”, wonwoo says, and the line drops.
he keeps talking to you so you can be conscious but after a ten minutes, you eyes start to close, and your body falters. your head starts to spiral and you get dizzy, seeing two mingyu’s above you.
“why are there two of you”, you ask no one in particular, starting to get delirious.
migyu’s pressure on your wound falters and you shrivel up in pain, the burning pain getting too much.
“it hurts, everything h-hurts”, you cry out softly and mingyu wishes he could do something to help ease the pain.
“i know baby you’re going to be okay, it’s going to be okay”, he says, panic evident in his eyes.
“hey hey y/n, don’t-“ mingyu pleads looking at you.
“mingyu”, dino says but he ignores him.
“y/n look at me”, he pleads, pulling you into him. your grip on his shirt loosens slowly and mingyu notices the way your hand falls down.
“fuck no no no, stay with me baby, i’m right here”, he pleads, almost crying but all you see is black as you lose consciousness.
(you were recovering in mingyu’s house since you couldn’t risk going to the hospital with an unknown drug in your system, it would cause a red siren everywhere and bring unwanted attention)
wonwoo tried his best to help save you but you were still lying unconscious after ten days. most of the drug had been flushed out of your system but it was taking some time for your body to recover from its effects.
“go get some rest mingyu”, wonwoo says as he walks in, seeing mingyu beside your bed.
“i need to be here when she wakes up”, mingyu says, his eyes red and his face tired from the lack of sleep.
“she’ll wake up, right?”, he asks for the tenth time today, hope reflecting in his tired eyes.
“i can’t make promises like that mingyu, it depends on the way her body is recovering”, wonwoo tells.
“this is all seungcheol’s fault”, mingyu declares, suddenly seeing red.
“where the fuck is he, he didn’t even come to see her once.”, mingyu adds, getting up.
“mingyu, you need to calm down.”
mingyu ignores wonwoo and shoves him to the side as he leaves for the safehouse in search of seungcheol.
“WHERE’S SEUNGCHEOL”, mingyu yells as he enters, causing seungkwan and vernon to jump and turn around.
“mingyu-"
“where the fuck is seungcheol?”, mingyu asks again, angry.
mingyu stalks ahead and bursts open the door to seungcheol’s office.
“this is all your fault”, mingyu says as seungcheol stands up from his desk and walks out a few steps before mingyu grabs seungcheol by the collar of his shirt.
“if you hadn’t sent y/n alone like i said, she’d be okay, she’d be okay”, mingyu spits out, seething in anger. “did you even go see her, do you know what he did?”, he adds.
“i know what happened and it’s unfortunate”, is all seungcheol says, making mingyu even more upset. in blinding anger, mingyu brings his hand up and lands a punch to seungcheol.
jeonghan runs in. “what-“, he asks but stops upon seeing the scene in front of him.
“im only letting this off because we got the painting”, seungcheol says, wiping his busted lip.
“fuck you, i bet you don’t even care if she dies”, mingyu spits stepping front again but jeonghan blocks him.
“she’ll live, she’s a fighter”, seungcheol tells before seungkwan comes along and he and jeonghan guide mingyu out.
that night mingyu is back home, laying next to your bed as wonwoo administers another round of IV.
“her wound is healing but slowly. it’s still a good sign that her body is functioning and working. otherwise, she would have gotten another infection if the drug had really affected her”, wonwoo says, hoping to bring some sort of relief to mingyu.
“you really love her don’t you”, wonwoo adds as he observes the way mingyu holds your hand.
“i should’ve insisted she doesn’t go alone, but she said she’d come back”, mingyu says defeated.
“if she doesn’t respond in another week, we’ll have to really do something then”, wonwoo tells, and by the way mingyu’s jaw clenches, he doesn’t like the sound of that.
mingyu stays by your bed that night, falling asleep and holding your hand.
you’re dreaming, someone is chasing you. you’ve been running for so long and you’re getting tired. you don’t even know where you’re running, you’re just running and running, hoping to find something.
mingyu stirs awake when he senses your grip on his hand tightening and he’s super alert.
“y/n?”, he asks softly.
someone is calling out to you. you can’t figure out where it’s coming from but you hear the sweet voice calling out my name again. you run towards the voice.
“y/n”, mingyu calls out again as he looks at you, trying to see if you can hear or understand him.
you’re running and running, trying to follow the voice and you vaguely make out a figure standing in front of you. the man stands out with his arms open as he calls out your name one last time and your eyes flutter open.
mingyu lets out a small gasp.
“mingyu”, you try to say, but no voice follows and you close your eyes again.
mingyu wastes no time in calling wonwoo, telling him the news and soon wonwoo is at the house.
“just keep an eye on her”, wonwoo explains saying he'll be back in the morning for a checkup.
in the morning, you wake up, a bit hazy but conscious. what woke you up was the pain and something cold and when you look down you realize your bandage had bled out, probably from sleeping on your side. you try to sit up but your arms give out, and your eyes close. you hear the faint steps of mingyu walking in and he says your name, rushing up to you. he gently sits down next to you, the bed dipping.
“you’re awake, you’re awake”, he says, his hands fumlbing for his phone as he dials wonwoo. you slowly manage to turn and face him, blinking up at him in a daze. he looks down and see’s your bandage that’s bled out.
“im just going to change your bandage okay y/n”, he says to you and you weakly nod. he helps you sit up, lifting your shirt up ever so slightly so he can take off the soiled bandage and replace it. he gently cleans the wound with a wet cloth and you slightly hiss at the pain, your hands clawing at the bedsheet. you take a moment to look at mingyu as he carefully tends to my wound. the way his hair falls over his face, the way the light bounces off him, the way his brows are furrowed in concentration, the way his hands are gentle so that he doesn’t hurt you.
“mingyu”, you say softly and he looks up worried and surprised. this is the first time you talked.
“do you want something? water? or are you hungry? i made some rice porridge earlier i can just-“
“thank you”, you weakly say and try to smile at him, and at this, he crumbles. he gently moves his hands to envelope you as he slowly pulls you into him for a hug.
“i thought i’d lost you there”, mingyu admits softly and you can hear the fear in his voice.
“i’m a fighter”, you mumble out and he laughs.
“‘im just glad you’re awake now. i thought- i was really preparing myself for the worst”, he says, pulling away to look at you. his hand cups you cheek, his thumb gently caressing my cheek. you lean into his touch and rest your head on his chest.
over the next few days, mingyu makes sure you’re comfortable and okay. he’s always checking up on you and you start to feel better. you’re able to get up and walk a little and your wound is healing too. you’re in less pain and wonwoo is impressed and satisfied with the way you’ve been healing.
“where’s dino? i hope he’s okay, i never got to see him afterward”, you say later one night. “do you want me to call them over?”, mingyu asks and you nod eagerly.
you walk over to mingyu and sit down next to him on the couch, looking up at him as you lean against his arm and suddenly you remember - you owed him a kiss when you came back. you sit up a bit and mingyu seems to have caught you staring.
“what?”, he asks, looking at you lovingly. “did you want something?”, he adds.
you simply move so that you’re straddling his lap and before mingyu can say anything, you’re kissing him. he kisses you back a few seconds later and his hands rest on your waist. he moves his lips against yours and his hand tilts your jaw closer to him. your hands wrap around his neck as you tangle your fingers in his hair and mingyu lets out a soft groan as he pulls away.
“fuck. i missed that. i missed you”, he mumbles against your lips.
“i promised you a kiss when i came back right”. you say and he smiles.
“you remembered”
“a little too late if i have to say”
“i’m glad you’re back baby, i missed you so much”, he says again, leaning forward to kiss you again, chasing after your lips. his lips are soft against yours, but the way he’s kissing you is like he hasn’t seen you in years. he kisses you with yearning and emotion, with a sort of urgency. his hand grips your waist tighter but you let out a small yelp since the pain is still there as the wound was still healing and his grip softens.
“shit sorry”, he says, looking to make sure you was okay, only to kiss him back, wanting to get lost in the feeling of his lips on yours. you’re too busy to notice that wonwoo opened the door and the rest of the boys walked in on you both kissing.
“y/n i got your favorite-“ seungkwan starts but stops dead in his tracks upon catching you both.
you pull away and turn your head around to see seungkwan’s mouth hanging open before he smacks a hand over his mouth in shock. dino just gives you a small shy smile and smiles when you smile back at him. you’re about to move off when mingyu pulls you in for one last kiss, just to tease you as you whack his arm and he pulls away chuckling.
wonwoo looks at us as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “i thought i said no strenuous activities for y/n”, he says, looking straight at mingyu.
“she started it”, mingyu says, throwing you in the fire as he gently slides you off him.
“what no! i–“, you start but falter, the words crumbling.
hoshi is immediately by your side, asking you if you’re okay and what happened before he starts pestering you for more details about how mingyu and you started liking each other because in his knowlege you hated him so now he need to know all the gossip and details.
after a few more months, you’re all healed but wonwoo still makes you do a checkup once every month, to make sure you were healing okay and that there were no leftover effects of the drug in your body.
2 years later
“baby i told you not to wear that fuck”, mingyu groans in your ear as he pulls you into a tiny room to hide from the security guards looking for you both.
“concentrate, we still need to get the gold bars”, you say, adjusting his tie as he pushes you into the wall.
“you look so fucking hot i told you that you’d get in trouble if you wore that”, he says, whispering against your ear.
after you healed and got back in the field, you and mingyu had been on countless missions together. this time you had to steal some gold bars from a corrupt politician, and once again to build connections and friends, you had to pose as a married couple. so here you were.
“my wife likes to be a brat sometimes”, he mumbles before pecking your lips.
“watch it, im not your wife”, you say, poking his arm.
“not yet, but i can change that”, he says, giving you a wink.
you stare up at him tilting your head to the side. “are you proposing to me, mingyu?”, you ask.
“maybe”, he says with a goofy smile as he leans in to close the gap between you with a kiss.
and yes, you did successfully steal the gold bars and you maybe tortured the corrupt politician a little, but everyone needs to have a little fun right?
— taglist
@daisycheols @naaaaafla @slytherinshua @weird-bookworm @idubiluv @qaramu @n4mj00nvq @itsveronicaxxx @joshuaahong @fallingforshua29 @frankenstein852 @lvlystars @fairyhaos @rubywonu @aaniag @junniesoleilkth @m1ngyuc0re @wheeboo @hyunyin @minhui896 @fancypoisonapple @raggedypansexual @k-ajla12 @asyre @ilovesungjun @jyiiscool @tis-niki @foxinnie8 @nobraincellmode @ne0c0r3 @nishloves
#covert desires by skye!#skye's writing!#k-labels#caratlibrary#seventeen imagines#seventeen fluff#seventeen scenarios#seventeen drabbles#seventeen au#seventeen x reader#svt fluff#svt imagines#svt x reader#mingyu fluff#mingyu oneshot#mingyu imagines#mingyu scenarios#mingyu x reader#mingyu series#kim mingyu fluff#kim mingyu scenarios#kim mingyu x reader
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(what’s the story) morning glory // lando norris
summary: noel gallagher’s daughter has a reputation for two things: being the funniest woman on the internet, and really having a thing for american guys. to the delight of all, she shows up at one of her dads concerts with a boy from bristol on her arm.
pairing: lando norris x gallagher!reader
yngallagher just posted!
northern quarter, manchester, united kingdom
liked by oliviarodrigo, heatherbarongracie and 3,457 others
yngallagher break through the barrier - tina turner
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user mommy? sorry, mommy. sorry!
user she really is that bitch
user real question: is she united or city?
-> yngallagher would you hate me if i said neither?
yngallagher just posted!
manchester, england
liked by noelgallagher, rollingstone and 4,170 others
yngallagher acquiesce - oasis
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yourbestie SLAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY
noelgallagher it was an honor sharing the stage with you, my wonderful daughter
-> yngallagher awe love you too dad!
user is it just me or did it look like she was blowing kisses to someone off stage?
-> user no ur so right someone was definitely there for her
user yn could single-handedly bring oasis back together
entertainmentbuzzmanchester
liked by 984 users
entertainmentbuzzmanchester YN Gallagher spotted last night in the VIP area of her fathers Manchester show cozying up to this unidentified man. Gallagher, who performed at the show, was later seen leaving the arena with the same man.
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user has she finally found her american prince?
user we’ve lost her to a fucking yank y’all! the hold that eighties matt dillon had on her was too much!
stacey_spacey I’ve seen that shitty haircut somewhere before
yngallagher posted to her story!
landonorris so born jovi is better than me?
yngallagher maybe maybe not ;) listen i'm ready to hard launch whenever you are, but don't feel like we need to rush things
yngallagher you have my dad's approval, and where i come from that's like being knighted
yngallagher just posted!
liked by noelgallagher, caitybaser and 2,391 others
yngallagher my daddy likes him so you guys should too :) silvo dump is incoming, just have to get some film developed
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user hottie
user now that's defo lando norris fight me
-> user idk bro it seems like a reach to connect them together
-> user yes but have you seen the twitter thread by user stacey_spacey? she makes some good points
noelgallagher im just gald you aren't dating an american. i wish he was from manchester, but beggars can't be choosers
noelgallagher im just kidding, darling. glad youre happy xx
yngallagher just posted!
tagged: landonorris
liked by landonorris, stacey_spacey, noelgallagher and 5,000 others
yngallagher . . . surprise!
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user holy shit
charles_leclerc what the fuck
-> oscarpiastri what the fuck
-> carlossainz55 what the actual fuck
-> alex_albon what the literal fuck
-> yngallagher why are you guys being so mean to pookie?
stacey_spacey i was right HAHAH
landonorris you're my wonderwallll
-> yngallagher i love you too my sexy loser boyfriend
-> oscarpiastri what is wrong with both of you
user lmao why is everyone so shocked?
-> maxfewtrell when i saw them together at silverstone i was certain it was like a joke or a pr thing?
user he looks like he negotiated with god to be allowed on earth
#lando norris x reader#formula one x reader#f1 x reader#f1 smau#lando norris smau#lando norris x you#f1 imagine#ig aus#f1 x you#f1 x female reader#Spotify
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29 / 2.1k / soap soulmate au, part 6
...
Ghost looks up as Soap storms out of the weapons closet.
"Still herself, I take it?" Ghost asks.
"She's a stubborn pain in the ass is what she is."
As expected. Soap misses the dry amusement that crinkles the corners of Ghost's eyes very slightly. "Didn't talk, then," Ghost says.
Soap scowls. "Not a goddamn word we can use. She won't listen to reason. Thinks she can face down an army. Dense, irritating--"
"Strong-willed," Ghost says.
"To a damn fault. Canny see what I'm trying to do for her. I'm-- she's--" Soap can hardly articulate his frustration. He's got this sick feeling in his stomach like he's been kicked in the gut hard enough to make him hurl.
It's not just you being too stubborn to give up the intel. What happens when you’re freed? You’re not going to stick around. What if Graves snaps his fingers and you go right on back to him?
Soap lets out a rough sigh. "There's more than Graves keeping her from talking. I don't like it."
"You've got a plan?" Ghost guesses.
Soap nods. "Aye. I need to talk to Laswell--"
"Done." Ghost produces a beige folder and drops it into Soap's hands. "Had her look into it for you."
"I'll be damned." Soap flips through the pages in the folder. "Christ. Bloody thin file." He fans the pages inside like a flipbook as if checking for extra pages. "Where's the rest of it?"
"Not much there to dig up."
"Then she's gotta be missin' some--" Something catches Soap's eye as he skims through, and he pauses, lingering on a photo.
Hell's fuckin' bells.
"Think that'll help?" Ghost asks.
"I'd wager so."
"Good. You goin' back in?"
"Aye.” Soap folds the file into his jacket and gives Ghost a good-natured fist bump to the arm. Then he brushes past him, knocking into his shoulder.
Ghost grabs Soap’s arm again before he slips past. "We don't have much time. Price wants to move on Alejandro. Says if you can't get the intel, we go in blind. Rodolfo leads."
Soap sets his jaw. "How long?"
"Three hours. Tops." He claps a firm hand on Soap's shoulder and turns to leave. "Get some sleep."
…
A moment later, the metal grate door slides open. You straighten back up and steel yourself again.
There's something different about the way Soap carries himself this time. He's not wound as tightly. But the way his eyes settle on you is... odd. The shift in his expression puts you on edge.
He sits down across from you. "We've not got much time. If talking gets us nowhere, we'll try something else."
You lean back, mirroring his posture. "You gonna torture me?”
“That what you’re expecting?”
“Maybe. You ever tortured someone before?"
"Aye. Can't say I care for it, but I know how if that's what this takes." He examines you again with that sharp gaze. You don't feel like he's undressing you with his eyes anymore. It's more like he's searching for something. "Why ask? You want me to put my hands on ya?"
You ignore the mental image that imprints. "I want you to waste your time."
Soap smirks. "What I wouldn't give to let you waste my time. You, me, all this animosity between us... I've got a few negotiation techniques I'd very much like to try." He leans back into the chair, his hands folded in his lap with an easy grin. "But you're no' the type to break under pressure."
"Better men than you have tried."
"Tried torturing you?" His grin tightens just slightly. "Anyone I know? Names, locations?"
Your cheeks heat up again. At that, for some reason. "I can take care of myself."
"I know you can."
He produces the thin file and tosses it onto the table between you.
You look down at the papers that slide out. They're grainy and covered in redactions as if printed and bound, pulled from the deep end of some filing cabinet, scanned, rescanned, and printed again. But you glimpse your name. Your real name--the one printed on Johnny's skin, too. Your chest twists and your stomach sinks.
Soap sees the change in you and leans forward, elbows wide. He opens the file and pushes it across the table. "I'll do anything to protect you, darlin'," he says. "But I need information."
The file is everything you don't want anyone to know. But what catches your eye is that photograph. "Who else has seen this?"
"Me and Laswell. Maybe Ghost if he was feelin' nosy. Does Graves know?"
You pull on your cuffs, wanting to reach for the pages and push them away. "Captain Graves said he'd make this disappear."
Soap leans back, broad palm sliding out to touch the edge of the pages, and his expression softens for a moment. "Some things you can’t make disappear."
You look at him, twisted up with pain and anger. "So, what, if I don't talk, you're threatening to expose all this? Is that it? It won't work," you add with false confidence. "Captain Graves knows everything."
"What I want to know," Soap says, voice quiet, "is what he did with it."
"What?"
Soap leans forward again. "Did he threaten you? Did he say he’d make this go away if you worked for him, hold it over your head?"
"No!” you snap. “After this happened, I couldn't-- I was discharged from the military. I couldn't find work. He reached out to me. Said he didn’t mind if I had… history. Then he offered to have it scrubbed if I wanted.” You stare down at the papers. “He never threatened me. He helped me."
Soap lets out a breath. He was prepared to deal with something a lot worse than that. Maybe he hoped for something worse. If Graves were blackmailing you, the solution would be easy. He'd give you protection, offer to have Laswell erase that file from existence instead, CIA-style. After all, if Graves got his claws into you and onto his payroll that way, why couldn't he? Probably got you dirt fucking cheap, too. Bastard.
Part of Soap wants to press that angle. He could tell you Graves never intended to deliver on his side of the deal. But the truth is that Graves would've had little control over this. Seeing the state of the file, Graves likely did what he could to have it redacted, sealed, destroyed--but someone over his head intervened. Shepherd, maybe. There'd be nothing Graves could do.
Soap wants you more than anything, but the pain in your eyes when you look at these documents tears him up inside. He can’t manipulate you that way. Even if he got you to himself in the end, he'd never forgive himself.
"That's... that's good. He protected you." Soap crosses his arms, squeezing his fist hard around the object inside, the one he pickpocketed off Ghost a few minutes ago. Much as he hates Graves, the man kept you safe. But that's his job now.
"I don't care who you tell," you snap, suddenly full of anger and spitting fire. The sight of those pages puts you on edge. You feel like a cornered animal. "I'm not telling you a goddamn thing. Do whatever you want to me. You're no better than--"
"Am no' blackmailin' ya." Soap's expression sours. So much venom in that mouth of yours. He runs his thumb over his tightened knuckles to suppress his own temper. He's amazed at how easy it is for you to get under his skin, how you push all these buttons when he's the one who's supposed to be pulling the strings.
But he realizes how this must seem. You act tough, but you're vulnerable, exposed, and he has every reason right now to drive the knife in and twist it hard. Maybe he should. Going into the Las Almas base blind means danger for his squadmates.
Christ, he’s tired. He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Darlin’, I... I know now you've done things you're not proud of. But that doesn't change anything. Not to me, not to Ghost-- hell, none of us would bat an eye. You don’t need to protect yourself anymore. I need you to talk to me. We're out of time."
He thinks this is about you protecting yourself? You shake your head. "If you’re storming the Las Almas base, you're going up against Shadows. You're asking me to help you kill my own."
"If that matters to you, then tell me how to get to Alejandro without alerting the guards. Nobody has to get hurt."
You scoff, looking away. "There's no way to do that and you know it."
"We don't have to shoot them if they stand down first."
"That's not going to happen. They'll shoot you on sight. It'll be a bloodbath."
"Not for us."
You close your eyes. "I know. That's what I'm worried about."
Soap lets out a frustrated breath. "We're going in whether you talk or not. The blood's on our hands. Not yours."
You keep your gaze angled away, clearly not believing that. "I don't see why you care about security. I don't see why you need intel at all. This is what you're good at, right? This is what 141 does. You break in doors, you kill people."
Soap grips the edge of the table. "The only thing gettin' you out of here is information. I don't care what it is or if it's useful. Price wants intel."
"I don't have it." Your voice is flat and cold. Whatever you can do to make him understand you're not worth the effort.
He leans in and grabs your chin, gently forcing you to look at him. "Then lie to me."
"What?" You stare at him, feeling pinned under that intense gaze. "Are you fucking insane?"
"Might be," A small, sly, half-smile curves his lips. "I'm also desperate, runnin' out of time, and at the end of my rope after starin' at you this long, knowin' I can't have you." He runs his thumb along your cheek. "Maybe I'm bankin' on you losin' your mind before I do."
You swallow. "You'll be waiting awhile."
He smirks. His thumb moves from your cheek to your chin, fingers trailing down the side of your neck. "Do you think you're a good liar?"
Before you can answer, someone bangs on the metal door, rattling it. Price's voice echoes in from outside.
"Get some sleep, Soap," he calls. "We're briefing soon. Give it a rest. We’ll press her for more intel after we’ve got Alejandro back.”
Soap tenses at the sound of Price's voice. "Wasn't planning on sleepin'," he calls back.
"Wasn't a question," Price calls back. You hear him walk away.
Soap withdraws his hand, letting out a soft curse.
"Why would you give your own Captain false information?" you hiss. "You could lose your job. You could get court-martialed. Even if it worked, what if Shepherd finds out? He's still in your chain of command."
"Guess that's a risk I gotta take."
"Then what if I tell you something that gets your teammates hurt, huh?"
"Won't happen. I'll be in the front when things get risky."
"Then how do you expect me to-- if it means you're the one who's--" You huff, words failing you. "You're so goddamn thick."
"Am I? Because here I am, tryin' to make plans and get a read on you, and all you wanna do is piss me off and run your mouth. I'm learnin' a lot." He tilts his head. "In fact, it's startin' to sound like you're worried about me."
"Absolutely not."
"Could always tell me the truth. Extra insurance if you do. Maybe it’ll keep me alive."
"You don't need it," you snap.
"I think I do." He leans in, crossing his legs and folding his arms. "Got a bad feeling about this one. No Shadow worth their salt wouldn’t send us straight to hell if it meant finishing the job. Especially Graves."
You feel another pang of dread in your gut. He's right.
He watches you for another long moment. Neither of you speak.
Finally, he stands, sighing deeply as he goes to the door. "Alright."
"Are you coming back?" The words spill out of your mouth before you can stop them.
He pauses in the doorway. Then he turns back, staring at you like there's something he wants to say. He looks down at the stolen object still clutched in his hand--the key to your cuffs.
He opens the door, slipping through without another word.
...
part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / [part 6] / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12
more Soap / masterlist tag
#soulmate soap#mine#story#soulmate au#fem reader#john soap mactavish#johnny soap mactavish#soap cod#johnny mactavish#soap mactavish#soap x reader#x reader#soap x you#johnny mactavish x reader#johnny mactavish x you#cod#cod x reader#call of duty#call of duty x reader#cod mw2#cod mwii#tf 141#tf 141 x reader
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let down - leah williamson x reader
pairing: barca!reader x leah williamson
warnings: barça being broke
In truth, you shouldn't be nervous.
This conversation had been going on for months - it was no secret that Barça had many financial problems, and paying you, Alexia and Aitana as their midfield would always have been difficult. You had had countless conversations like these before - negotiating your new contract, negotiating your new wage, which you knew would be significantly lower. It didn't bother you, though. You would've picked up a second job if it meant playing for your childhood club, even if they refused to pay you.
This setting, however, seemed a lot more official than it should've, in your opinion.
You were still dressed in your clothes from training, and so was Jona, but the rest of Barça's management was dressed properly - in suits and leather shoes. They shouldn't have even been there yet. This conversation was meant to simply verbalize your new contract, not to sign it yet. You were in no conditions to take the usual photos and sit in front of the camera for an interview after the contract extension. It confused you.
"Y/N, we are so sorry."
That was how Jona started, and in that particular moment, your heart stopped. No, this couldn't- they wouldn't dare-
"We can't renew your contract."
Silence followed. Then, your shaky voice. Barely above a whisper.
"What?"
This whole situation seemed too surreal to be true. Maybe in a few seconds, your eyes would open and you would find out that this was just a horrible dream. If it hadn't been for your manager's piercing gaze on you, you might've pinched yourself under the table.
"We don't have the financial means to pay you enough to stay. I know it's not what you want to hear, but-"
"No, Jona, we talked about this. You can cut my wage, I don't mind. I'll stay here, whatever it takes. Alexia said she would-"
But the man in front of you didn't let you finish.
"You are right, we talked about this. And I told you that you deserve more than what we can give you, and that you cannot let us undermine you. It's not fair to you, it's not fair to all the women who are-"
This time, you were the one to interrupt him.
"But this? This isn't fair to me!"
That was how the argument unfolded, and only after your voice was hoarse from crying and pleading, your cheeks stained with tears and your manager stained with guilt, did you leave the office to fall into Alexia's arms, who had been listening in from the other side of the door for God knew how long.
It was January currently, which meant that as soon as you silently agreed with them to sign you to whatever club payed the most, you were out.
Just like that, the chance to play in front of the Culers for one last time was ripped away from you. They received a half-hearted announcement via Instagram, you received twenty women in your apartment, ready to pack your things. In all honesty, you had wished for no one to see as you organized your life into moving boxes and shipped them over the sea for whoever from Arsenal to receive, mostly because it would've felt even less real. Mostly because then, the goodbye wouldn't have hit you as hard. Ona tried to offer you advice on how to get by in England, telling you all about her experience abroad. Mapi tried to lift the spirits by joking around. Ingrid held you as you allowed tears to fall, and Alexia made sure you didn't forget anything, offering to take care of the things you would leave behind in Barcelona.
It was only you and Alexia at the airport. Your best friend, since the day you had been selected to play for the senior team of Barcelona, had shared many angry words with the management, and at one point even threatened to leave if you really had to. But the papers were signed, and the boxes were packed, and there was nothing left to do for Alexia besides holding your shaky frame as tears clouded your vision for what felt like the millionth time.
"You'll be okay, bebita. You'll enjoy London, and then you'll come back. I promise, you'll come back."
The both of you knew that there was no way she could ever promise that - Barça's financial difficulties were far too severe to sign you back soon - the most expensive player in the world, currently. When, or if the smoke would clear up, neither of you could know. Still, her words soothed you the tiniest as you held onto the glimpse of hope your best friend gave you as if it was a lifeline.
"Enjoy London, okay?"
You nodded, although you knew that you wouldn't. What good was London compared to Barcelona? What good was the capital of England compared to your lifelong home?
"Vamos, carino", Alexia huffed as she let go of you, gently pushing you towards your gate.
"Call me, okay? ¡Te amo!", she yelled after you as you turned away from her, and the hurt in her voice made a new layer of tears stream down on your cheeks, but you knew that if you looked back at her now, you would never board that plane. If leaving to England was what it took for your club to keep functioning, you would. If playing for Arsenal meant that you would be back in blaugrana one day, you would wear that ugly red shirt and call yourself a Gunner. You wouldn't do it happily, though.
London looked ugly when you flew over it, and London looked ugly when you landed in Heathrow Airport. You had expected people from the club to be there to pick you up, wearing Arsenal clothes and a sign with your name on it. It was apparently standard procedure, as Alexia had told you, though neither of you could really know because neither of you had never left the country to play football if it wasn't with the Spanish national team. What you hadn't expected, however, was Laia waving at you excitedly from across the hall, with two women dressed in the same hoodie as her, one significantly smaller (you guessed she was Kim) and one Leah Williamson.
You had never followed English football much, likely why you hadn't recognized Kim when you'd first searched up your new team on the internet, but Leah was the kind of footballer everyone was just.. aware of.
Admittedly, she was even prettier in real life.
"¡Hola, guapa!", Laia shrieked as you strolled over to your new teammates (the word 'teammate' along with 'new' still left a bitter taste in your mouth), dragging your suitcase behind you tiredly. The plain ride had worn you out - in all honesty, the entire past week had worn you out. Ever since you'd been told that you would leave the club that you had bled for, you hadn't been able to close half an eye.
Still, Laia's excitement was unmatched as she pulled you into a tight hug, allowing your face to sag against her shoulder. You didn't allow yourself to cry anymore, and so you could see Leah and Kim smile at you softly from a few steps behind the other Spanish woman without tears clouding your vision.
Laia continued to speak in Spanish, asking you about the flight, about how the Barça girls were, about how excited she was that you were finally here and she wasn't the only Spaniard at the Arsenal.
If Kim and Leah thought it was rude that they were left out of the conversation entirely, they didn't say so. Still, you pushed Laia off gently, mustering the smallest of smiles you could.
"Hello."
Your English wasn't very good, but even you winced ever so slightly at the realization of how truly cold you sounded. You didn't want to be here, didn't want any of them to show you your new apartment, didn't want them to show you the club, to bring you to training, to give you a red jersey and call you a Gunner.
But you needed to suck it up. Life wasn't fair. And if Alexia's words held any truth, this would merely be a temporal situation.
"Hey", Kim smiled at you. Her English sounded funny, but her smile was more genuine than yours as she introduced herself and Leah. You hadn't needed her to, but it was a nice gesture anyways.
"It's good to have you here", Leah smiled as she gently lay her arm across your shoulder.
"Wanna see your new flat?", you nodded as Leah guided you out of the hall, your luggage left with Laia who strolled behind you alongside Kim.
Leah's confidence and her proximity to you, your side pressed against hers, was making your head spin ever so slightly. You had, admittedly, hoped that Leah, as co-captain and being about to return to the pitch, would understand how badly you didn't want to be at Arsenal, seeing as she bled for the club the way you did for Barcelona. Maybe she could grasp the idea of being forced out of her home, and sympathize with you in the slightest. And it seemed she did, as she pointed towards what you guessed was Kim's car, leaving you and Laia in the backseats as you drove through the city. London was different from Barcelona.
It was slightly less ugly now, with impressive buildings and a few bits of nature sprawled around as Kim maneuvered the car through the streets. It was cold, though, and as you were shivering slightly, Kim put the heat just a bit higher. It was grey, as well. Not a single ray of sunshine was able to break through the barrier of clouds in the sky, and it reminded you a lot of your current mood, though you were hesitant to show it.
Leah and Kim seemed genuine in their efforts to make this transition as easy for you as possible, given the fact that your apprehension to leave Barcelona was a very well known fact. You had dedicated an Instagram post with a very heartfelt caption to your departure, which made it very clear that you did not leave on your own accord.
Their dedication to welcome you, though, made you feel the tiniest bit of unfair. The women were genuinely trying, and they promised you during the car ride, when asking whether or not you were nervous, that the whole team was excited to meet you. Maybe you could try a little bit. Maybe you could enjoy this for the time being.
"Here we are."
You could see Kim's smile through the rearview mirror as she parked her car in front of an old building which you guessed was your new apartment complex. The car had left the central of London around twenty minutes ago, and at your confused expression, Laia had huffed that the club was in North London, not Central London.
"¿Es un poco feo, no?", (It's a bit ugly) you asked Laia as you stared at the shabby building. The walls were grey, and the parking lot was grey, and it seemed like everything in London was just.. grey. Plain.
"¡No, Y/N! Leah vida aquí también", (Leah lives here too) Laia huffed at your comment, shaking her head while chuckling at your statement. You shrugged, ignoring the way Leah and Kim furrowed their brows at your Spanish conversation while climbing out of your seat to retrieve your luggage.
You insisted on carrying your suitcase up the small flight of stairs as well, though Laia offered to do it for you. The two of you hadn't been super close when she'd still played at Barcelona, but you had been quite good friends, and having at least one familiar face soothed you.
"This is it", Leah smiled softly as the four of you stepped into the hallway, following your curious steps into the flat. It was plain as well, of course it was. For the first time since calming down on the plane, you had to fight tears again. The flat was nice, sure. The club had organized a quite spacious place, with lots of room and comfortable-looking furniture. But it was bare. You knew that shopping for furniture would be a hassle in the middle of the season, so you had rented it furnitured.
You missed your green couch, the thrifted, quite antique sideboard, the golden-framed mirror. You missed the framed shirts on your wall, the clothing rack with all of the shirts you had swapped with other players. All of those things were now packed away in a storage room somewhere in Barcelona. You missed Barcelona.
"Es pretty", you mumbled, dropping your keys on the white coffee table and turning around to look at Leah, who was still holding on to your large bag, the Barcelona badge imprinted on it. The look she gave you, eyebrows slightly raised, eyes looking somewhat defeated, told you that you hadn't been able to fool her.
Laia and Kim left quickly, with the excuse of having early training tomorrow and needing to run whatever errands, but Leah stayed.
"I live in the same building, so I could help you unpack if you want?"
In truth, you didn't want her to help. You didn't want her to swoop through your things, eyeing all of your personal belongings, all of the tokens of your previous home that you had left so promptly, but you didn't have the heart to tell her no. So, the two of you got to work, after a small tour through the whole unit, finding the bedroom, the bathroom and another room that you guessed you would use for storage. Your kitchen was small, after all, and it was filled with things you didn't know how to use.
"What's this?", you asked as you held up a scoop of some sort, that you had found while rummaging through your cupboards.
"It's a tea scoop, for making loose tea", Leah explained with a chuckle, taking the utensil from your hand to showcase how one scoops.
"I don't drink tea", you huffed, taking the scoop back and shoving it into the back of the cupboard before closing it a little harsher than you would have expected.
"You're in England now, you're gonna drink tea."
You decided to ignore her comment, instead opening the next drawer.
"I have a microwave", you pointed out, moving slightly to the side so that Leah could look. She was awfully close to you again, and it made you nervous.
"So you can make paellas", Leah snickered, nudging her hips against yours playfully. At that, you turned towards her, taking a shocked step back.
"Joder, you don't microwave paellas! What is wrong with you? Mujer loca", (crazy woman) you exclaimed, nudging her back playfully before diving into the next cupboard. Maybe London wouldn't be as horrible as you thought.
notes: this is baaaaad honestly but we move
#woso imagine#woso community#woso fanfics#woso one shot#leah williamson#leah williamson x reader#awfc imagine#awfc x reader#barca femeni x reader
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Dick Grayson's not big on keeping physical mementos of you around his apartment on the off-chance his identity might be compromised. He figures it best to leave you with all of the important stuff; that way, he doesn't have to worry about accidentally putting you in danger.
Scrapbooks, ticket stubs, jewelry, photobooth flics, etc., all of it stays tucked away in your little apartment on the other side of town, away from the enemies of his alter-ego Nightwing, ready for him to rifle through when he comes to visit.
Everything is always in your possession; it's "non-negotiable," he says until you remind him of his exception to the rule. The one singular photo he keeps under a stack of boxers in his underwear drawer.
It's a picture of you, lips puckered and wrapped around the tip of his cock. Your cheeks are hollowed as you make eye contact with the lens, and your eyes are lit up and filled with a childish kind of glee despite the lewd act you're engaging in.
The glossy sheen of the picture is foggy now, covered in fingerprints from all the times he'd held it in his hands late at night when he was alone. He says he'd just been "reminiscing" and insists that he keeps it because he thinks you look pretty, but you know him well enough to know better.
He'll text you in the middle of the night, "I miss you," and you know that at that moment, his cock is in his hand, coated in pre-cum as he tugs at it, longing for it to be inside of you instead.
And you always have half a mind to tell him to come over and get the real thing, that he doesn't have to substitute it with memories when you're right there and waiting; that he can bring that damn camera so you can, at the very least, provide him with some new pics.
#dick grayson#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson x you#dick grayson x gn!reader#dick grayson smut#dick grayson imagine#dick grayson drabble#nightwing#nightwing x reader#nightwing x you#nightwing x gn!reader#nightwing smut#nightwing drabble#nightwing imagine
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