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eightmakesonebraincell · 11 months ago
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ateez as mafia boyfriends (christmas special)
genre: mafia!ateez x fem!reader, fluff, angst, smut, crack, brainrot and smutfest of mafia x christmas tropes
length: 13.8k
c/w: nsfw scenes - mdni, explicit language (dirty talk, swearing, insults), graphic depictions of death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, heavy & mature themes (murder, abduction, corruption), pet names (kitten, babe, baby, love, sweetheart)
a/n: this one’s for yumi (@sorryimananti-romantic), mafia anon and everyone who’s sent in an ask about mafia!ateez before 🫶 loosely based on aammwffy but this is still a standalone fic not part two thank you for coming to my ted talk 😙✌️ merry christmas y'all
hongjoong
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the stocking in your hand jerks when you suddenly feel it
it’s a black stocking that hongjoong has made for wooyoung from out of a spare shirt
there are already several other hand-made stockings hanging on nails that he has hammered into the wall of the warehouse
and this whole ‘ateez’s mob boss couple decorates the gang’s old warehouse for christmas’ shenanigan would have been cute and wholesome…
if not for the vibrator that is currently pulsing inside your throbbing pussy
“why’d you stop, kitten?” hongjoong murmurs into your ear from behind your shoulder, knowing very well the reason why is currently in the pocket of his black slacks
when you struggle to answer, he snakes the hand that isn’t toying with the remote around your waist to the front of your pants
“hmm? what’s wrong?” he asks teasingly
your knees buckle when he suddenly cups your core, pressing the vibrator further into you as he switches it to a higher setting
gripping onto his forearm to ground yourself, you’re unable to stop yourself from moaning at the feeling of his muscles rippling underneath your fingertips while he grinds his hand against you
but as soon as you feel your high approaching, it is ripped away from you
hongjoong switches the vibrator off and removes his hand
you are close to cursing him out, but the way that you can feel the hardened front of his slacks chase after your ass for friction whenever you move away even the slightest has you confident that it will not be long until he is cracking
until he begs for you
letting out a shaky exhale, you hang the stocking still in your grip next to mingi’s one; a dark, navy blue that used to be a fluffy towel, now repurposed for christmas
hongjoong passes you the last stocking but you let it drop to the ground
“oops,” you drawl coquettishly
you bend over to pick up jongho’s stocking, slowly and deliberately brushing up against hongjoong’s cock with the curve of your ass
you smirk when the friction draws out a guttural groan from his chest
a hand comes to rest just below your waist, “you’re playing with fire right now, kitten” 
“looks like we need a little…water to put it out, then,” you press back against him once more
he snaps
it’s not long before the tip of his swollen cock is pressing against your entrance, his slacks still bunched around his thighs in his hurry to fuck you
he pulls out the vibrator and he shushes your whines at the feeling of emptiness by thrusting three fingers right into you
“fuck, kitten,” he mouths the side of your neck, “you’re already stretched out and ready for my cock”
your mind goes fuzzy at his words and hongjoong smirks in satisfaction
sliding his fingers from out of you, he lines the tip of his cock between your legs-
you both freeze when a loud clang resonates throughout the warehouse, like someone has hit the outer steel walls
hard.
“kim hongjoong!” an unfamiliar voice yells with fury from outside
another clang, this time closer towards the entrance
there’s not much holding the warehouse doors closed; you two weren’t exactly expecting hostile visitors
“you think we can get a round in before they make it through the doors?” hongjoong asks
“if you can cum in the next ten seconds, sure”
a colourful string of curses leaves his mouth before he pulls out of you and fixes his slacks - with difficulty, you must say - while you adjust your own clothes
just in time for the warehouse doors to fling open
“you killed my fucking brother, you motherfucking bastard!”
“who are you again?” hongjoong leans back to rest against the edge of the table while he watches you pick up jongho’s long-forgotten stocking on the floor. “you’ll have to remind me.”
numerous men stride in towards the far end of the warehouse where you two are - were - hanging up the stockings
you look away with disinterest; it’s nothing you and hongjoong can’t take care of
“kyungseok,” the man grits out, jaw clenching with irritation when neither of you show any signs of recognition. “you killed my brother, kyungtae. leader of the bluebirds.”
at his last word, it finally clicks
“ah,” hongjoong cracks his knuckles and stretches his neck lazily, “the one who thought they could touch my kitten and get away with it”
meanwhile, you step back after hanging the last stocking on the wall, admiring the row of decorations
you direct your question at the man behind you, “what do you think, kyungtaek?”
“it’s kyungseok,” he snarls
you wave dismissively, pressing a kiss against hongjoong’s jaw as you praise, “these look wonderful, babe”
you hear kyungseok yell out at his lackeys followed by a flurry of movement
hongjoong sighs, sneaks a kiss in, and then gently steps the both of you to the side out of the path of an incoming kick
“if we make this quick, maybe i can finish fucking you before seonghwa and the others get here,” he winks
then you two move
in quick succession, you use the momentum of their thrown punches to yank two men over your shoulder, one after the other
the wind is knocked out of them and you aim a sharp blow to their necks to render them unconscious
realising that close combat may not be the best idea, another bluebird member brandishes a knife to gain the upper hand
“weapons? that’s not very fair,” you purr
you lunge forward before you have even finished your sentence, catching him off guard and grabbing hold of his arm
twisting his wrist backwards, he shouts in pain as his grip on the knife loosens and it clatters to the floor
“oh dear,” you mock, your hands twisting up to curl around his throat
vaguely, you register hongjoong yell out your name
“duck!”
you barely have time to crouch, your hand yanking down the man with you from where your fingers are still wrapped around his throat, before a burly male is tossed right over your body and sent careening into the table nearby
you watch in dismay as cookies scatter onto the floor, wood splintering with a loud crack
“fuck you, hongjoong, i spent ages arranging them onto the plates”
he has the audacity to smirk in apology while he wraps his arms around the neck of another man and twists, forearms flexing as the bone gives way with a sickening snap, “sorry, kitten”
the man whose throat you have been squeezing is now limp and he sags to the floor
he’s too heavy for you to throw at hongjoong, so you settle for picking up the knife you disarmed and fling it at your boyfriend
“duck,” you tease
hongjoong rolls his eyes and drops his body towards the ground, your knife hurtling past the empty space where his forehead was just milliseconds ago, before it hits its mark and makes itself home in the chest of a man who has been sneaking up from behind
moving in tandem, hongjoong extends his leg and sweeps it along the ground to knock the thug off his feet
the man’s arms fling backwards as his weight crashes towards the ground, colliding into the christmas tree you had decorated earlier and taking it down with him
you pinch the bridge of your nose as the ornaments shatter
“oops?” hongjoong shrugs his shoulders noncommittally 
stepping over the lifeless bodies scattered by your feet, you move away a little to pull out your phone
most of the bluebird gang has already been taken out; hongjoong can handle the rest himself
“hey, seonghwa and i are nearly there,” yunho’s voice sounds over the receiver
“oh,” you hum contemplatively, “is anyone else still on their way?”
“probably wooyoung. you know him, he’s always late,” he chuckles into the phone, “why?”
“can you see if he can buy some new ornaments? and pick up some fresh cookies while he’s at it”
there’s a yell and a loud thud as a body rolls to a stop just a few feet away from you
“what was that?” yunho startles
hongjoong has picked up the fallen christmas tree and is currently swinging it around like a crazed batter
“just hongjoong having some fun”
when you hang up, you are just in time to hear the loud thwunk as the tree connects with kyungseok’s temple
you’re not sure whether the splinter you hear is a result of the trunk or his skull cracking
the last bluebird member drops down dead, blood pooling out from under him
hongjoong scoffs, “merry fucking christmas”
and for good measure, hongjoong shoves an intact bauble into the man’s mouth
it’s finally silent
“now,” he turns to you, “where were we before we were��interrupted”
at hongjoong’s predatory gaze, you feel the arousal from before washing over you
he approaches you leisurely as he uncuffs his sleeves to roll them up, loosening the top buttons of his shirt, all the while undressing you with his lustful eyes
you drink up his appearance, eyes raking over his exposed chest that shines with a sheen layer of sweat
he’s in front of you now
“looks like i’ll have to prepare you again, kitten”
his fingers start to slip under the waistband of your panties when-
“heard you fucktards knocked over the cookies!”
his voice echoes throughout the warehouse before he even steps foot into the warehouse
wooyoung is fucking early.
you’re quite positive hongjoong is about to deck him through the roof
“wow,” wooyoung lets out a low whistle as he walks in to survey the scene, eyes scanning wildly over the splattered blood and mutilated bodies across the floor with an expression that appears mostly impressed
hongjoong’s clenched fists are white
uncaring of his leader’s lack of response, wooyoung continues, “when you told us the dress code was red, i didn’t think you meant this kind of red”
he approaches you two to squat down beside kyungseok’s body and taps the bauble in his mouth with interest, “rad decorations”
you watch in amusement as hongjoong’s last string snaps
“wooyoung,” he says evenly
it goes in one ear and out the other
wooyoung looks around as he asks, “can i tie him up with tinsel before the others get here?”
“jung wooyoung”
said man finally blanches
good thing too
because you don’t think hongjoong is joking when he says,
“if you don’t get the fuck out right now, you are going to become part of the decorations.”
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seonghwa
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“remember, as soon as i leave-”
“i need to lock the door,” you finish seonghwa’s sentence cheekily
he chuckles as he shakes his head fondly, “and if you feel like anything is off-”
“call you or hongjoong straight away,” you mimic, emphasising the last two words with the same seriousness he nags you with all the time
despite your words, your heart flutters shyly at seonghwa’s neverending protectiveness and worry for you
with his line of work, it isn’t easy for him to leave your side, much less leave you alone in the apartment
he understands though
it’s only been a few months since he found you; barely a shell of the curious, energetic and endearing person that you are now
under his careful nurturing, you have flourished and learnt to love and trust again
it doesn’t mean that you are quite ready to leave the apartment just yet for something other than a quick grocery run or walk in the park with seonghwa at your side
but it’s okay - baby steps
“i’ll be back at 6 and then we can cook dinner together,” he kisses your temple sweetly, “see you later, love”
you watch as he lingers outside the door, feet always ever so reluctant to leave
he motions for you to close the door and you know he won’t leave until he sees that you have closed and locked it
so with a final wave, you shut the door, turn the lock and then press your ear right up against the wood
he thinks you don’t know that he does it, and you won’t admit to it in fear that he will stop out of embarrassment
but you hear him whisper love you before his footsteps recede down the corridor
you have most of the day to yourself until seonghwa comes back
he had said that hongjoong was giving the gang christmas night off, a pleasant and welcome change from all the nights you fight the sleep tugging at your eyelids as you wait curled up on the sofa for seonghwa to come home
you occupy your day with little odd jobs here and there around the house, like washing the dishes and doing the laundry and cleaning the bedroom
he always tells you off because he wants to be the one doing them for you, but the small exasperated smile that he gives you every time barely conceals his underlying fondness
and then when you have exhausted the chores, you pull out a pencil and some paper and start drawing out ideas for a gingerbread house
because seonghwa had promised to make one with you later tonight once he discovered you had never tried it before
you cannot contain your excitement as the clock finally ticks to six
your little sketches lay abandoned across the coffee table as you start to pace the living room skittishly, ears perking up whenever you hear noise outside
half an hour passes just like that but there’s still no sign of seonghwa
that’s okay, you tell yourself
you understand that he doesn’t have a normal office job where he can just clock out and walk away as he wishes
sending him a quick text asking if he is on his way home, you busy yourself with lining up all the utensils on the kitchen counter perfectly parallel, just the way he likes it
the chopsticks
the spatula
the knife
the cooking board
again.
the chopsticks
the spatula
the knife
the cooking board
you glance up at the clock
it’s seven
you tap on your phone to bring the screen to life
no notifications
you try to quell the growing panic inside of you
but you cannot ignore the fact that seonghwa would usually send you a quick message when he is held up by something, especially on a day where he has clearly told you when to expect him home
what if something went wrong?
what if he is hurt?
what if he is missing?
what if he is…dying?
you take a shuddering breath as you pick up your phone again with shaking fingers
7:24 PM
the glare of your screen seems too bright all of a sudden
you press on the first contact of your speed dial, seonghwa’s name popping up, decorated with a little heart that he added himself when he first entered his number into your new phone
the call rings and rings and rings
“the person you have called is not available, please leave a short message after the tone-”
your chest heaves to force oxygen into your lungs
you haven’t had a real reason to contact him yet, not with seonghwa personally keeping you in the loop
but you don’t hesitate to press the second contact on your speed dial
hongjoong greets you with a little surprise, obviously not having expected a call from you, “hey, is everything alright?”
you fight to keep the panic out of your voice as you ask him, “is hwa still there?”
there’s some rustling in the background
“hwa? no, he left almost two hours ago”
your stomach lurches dangerously
you don’t realise you’ve let out a soft whimper until hongjoong is repeating your name over and over again into the phone
“take a breath for me,” he soothes, “what’s wrong?”
“he said he’d be back by six,” your eyes start to well with the tears you’ve been suppressing. “he’s still not home”
hongjoong curses, calling out for the others still at base
then his voice filters through the speakers again, “we’re going to look into this, okay? everything’s going to be fine. you’ve done a good job letting me know”
with reassurances and words of comfort, a promise to call you back in a couple of minutes, hongjoong hangs up the call
yeosang and jongho sidle up to hongjoong on high alert, having heard the end of the conversation
“seonghwa’s missing,” hongjoong grits out, already trying to track down the other’s phone location
san appears in the doorway to the room looking grim
he holds up seonghwa’s phone in his hand, “he forgot to take it with him”
hongjoong curses lowly, “park fucking seonghwa. i swear if he isn’t already dead by now, he will be when i find him”
he tells yunho to hold down the fort at base while he, yeosang and wooyoung trace the route to the apartment you now share with seonghwa
you are unsure how long it will be until hongjoong calls you again
what you do know is that you’re not going to sit around idly while seonghwa could very well be in danger
your mind flashes back to all those times you both stand in the expanse of his living room, coffee table pushed to one side, as he gives you what he coins the ultimate self-hwafense class
he demonstrates and talks you through both defensive and offensive stances and how you can use your size and agility to your advantage
sometimes, he hates that he has to even teach you how to protect yourself
because if it were up to him, he would be your protector forever
but seonghwa knows the dangers of being involved with the mafia and so instead, he gently adjusts your movements, gives you praises when you grasp the concept, and demands kisses when you successfully pin him down
and more often than not, his self-hwafense classes end up in giggles and laughter because there is nothing less intimidating than his sparkling doe-eyes and wide grin as he pretends to act the part of a threatening intruder
just as your fingers brush over the cold steel of the gun hidden underneath the table, your blood runs cold when you hear your doorknob jiggling
it’s not purposeful - it is hesitant, intermittent and careful
exactly how an intruder would open a door
you know you do not have a choice
you have to protect yourself
slinking slowly towards the door and positioning yourself so that the intruder will walk in with their back to you, you grasp the gun in your hand a little tighter with bated breath
the lock clicks open and you watch the knob turning to nudge the door open
your mind screams at you to run and hide as you fight every cell in your body to keep your feet rooted where they are
amongst the fogginess of fear clouding your brain, you have enough sense to wait for the perfect opportunity
…now.
with as much strength as your shaking hands can muster, you slam the butt of your gun against the intruder’s head
hongjoong’s phone vibrates in his hand and he answers the call within the first ring
but before he can even get so much as a word out, he hears your trembling whisper
“hongjoong, he- he’s here”
“shit,” hongjoong says at the same time wooyoung steps harder on the accelerator, “who? are you okay? are you safe?”
“oh no,” your voice becomes harder to hear as the phone slips further away from you, “he’s awake”
“we’re close, hang in there- fuck” hongjoong punches the side of the car door when your call cuts off
wooyoung doesn’t need to be told - he floors the car
the tyres squeal as they pull up to the street of the apartment, wooyoung having just barely turned off the ignition before the three of them are dashing in and bypassing the lift for the stairs
as they reach the door of your apartment, they see that it is nudged open
a sign that cues the three of them to immediately slip out their guns
with hongjoong at the front, they barge in and point their guns at the figures in the living room
“move and i’ll blow your fucking brains out,” he commands
“hongjoong?”
said man falters
that’s not your voice
“the fuck?”
of all things he was prepared for, this was not one of them
because seonghwa is in the living room
sitting on a chair nursing a very bruised head with a sorry bag of frozen peas pressed to it
but it is very much seonghwa, alive and kicking
something on hongjoong’s face must show how much he wants to skin the man and feed him to the sharks because seonghwa grimaces and makes a very poor attempt to break the tension
“surprise?”
wooyoung loses it and keels in on himself with laughter
seonghwa gestures weakly with the hand that is not holding the bag of peas at the inconspicuous paper bag sitting on the kitchen counter, which is looking slightly sad and saggy after he quite literally crumpled on top of it, “i bought donuts?”
when hongjoong exhales the longest sigh known to mankind, pinching the bridge of his nose, you completely understand how he feels
“they’re shaped like reindeers and elves…they’re limited edition…” seonghwa’s voice trails off and you see him visibly wilt like a sunflower in a cave
because as much as he knows and is sorry for making you and the gang worry, he had rushed to line up at that donut shop you have recently fallen in love with because he thought surprising you with the cute christmas donuts would make you smile
well, surprise you he did
it’s not everyday you knock out an intruder, only to find out that it’s actually your boyfriend
“i’m sure they are very cute, hwa,” you tenderly replace his hand on the makeshift ice pack so that he can rest his arm, “thank you”
and you really do mean it
seonghwa perks up at your words and snakes his arm around your waist, tugging you closer until you are basically sitting on his sturdy thigh
he looks haughtily at the other three men, “at least somebody appreciates them”
and then he lets out a yelp as his hands scramble to catch his forgotten phone that hongjoong has tossed at him
“i’ll let you off the hook this time, park seonghwa, but only because it’s christmas and i have better things to be doing. we all do,” the leader makes a move with yeosang and wooyoung to leave
but he seems to think better of it because hongjoong whips around to make one last biting remark
“they better be some fucking good donuts, the best fucking donuts you’ll ever eat”
you and seonghwa dissolve into giggles once the door slams shut behind the trio
“how’s your head feeling now?” you take the bag of peas off and gingerly touch the red bump
“much better,” his eyes twinkle, “all it needs now is your kiss”
you blatantly turn your nose into the air and stand up to grab the bag of donuts, “no kisses. that’s for scaring me”
he grumbles indignantly under his breath like a five year old; nose scrunched up, lip jutted out
you laugh, presenting the bag to him and watching as his demeanor immediately brightens
“well, let’s find out if these are the best fucking donuts we’ll ever eat”
seonghwa opens the bag excitedly, having made it very clear that he wanted to do the honours and present them to you
but then he freezes, mouth opening to form an ‘o’
and then his shoulders sag once more
seonghwa wails
and it all makes sense when you peer into the bag
“the donuts are all squished!”
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yunho
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“J, can you take a look at my sniper? i think something’s wrong with the scope”
you dog-ear the page of the file you’re scanning through to look up at yunho
“i’m pretty sure i know the least about scopes out of everybod-”
“cause i can’t seem to take my sight off you,” he waggles his eyebrows at you with an overly-smouldering gaze as he leans oh so casually against the doorframe
you swallow the insult that is about to leave your mouth, instead, undoing the dog ear and dutifully continuing from where you left off
unfazed, yunho steps closer towards your table with an excited bounce, “want to see my gun? i’ve got a pretty big one”
you hum, “i’ve seen it plenty times, nothing new”
his eyes crinkle at having received a reaction, which spurs him on further
yunho leans down a little into your space so that you are forced to look up at him, “then can i put my gun in your holster?”
you finally laugh at the crudeness of his words and you hate that he looks utterly pleased with himself
(you don’t really hate it, but you know that he loves flustering you)
(you can pretend if it’s for him)
“remind me again why you’re my boyfriend?”
“cause i shoot my load into you,” he flirts, complete with a wink, finger guns and then a flying kiss that you pretend to snatch out of the air and slam against the ground
immediately, he looks like a puppy whose tail you have just stepped on, so you reach out for his hand and tug him closer with another laugh, turning your body so that you can bury your face into his stomach and wrap your arms around his waist
one of his arms naturally slides over your shoulders to encase you, his other hand running through your hair the way he knows you like it
“what do you want, you big puppy,” your voice comes out muffled
yunho may have claimed you as the J to his PB, but you think he is better nicknamed BP than peanut butter
BP as in Big Puppy
“i miss you,” he admits
you pull away and shake your head, “you see me every day, yunho. we work together”
“yeah, and i’m sick of work cockblocking us,” he says with finality
yunho swipes your files to the side in one smooth motion, clearing the table as he easily lifts you by the waist to perch you on the edge
you barely have time to complain about the files until he is pressing his lips against yours
“i miss you,” he repeats when you break apart to take a breath, “and it’s christmas. relax”
“you talk too much,” you say, grabbing his tie and pulling him in for another kiss
his large hands settle on your waist, just below the hem of your shirt
your back arches from sensitivity when the fingers of his right hand slip under your shirt and slowly trail upwards towards your chest
his other hand snakes behind you to splay across the pretty arch of your back
you loop your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair for purchase
a stuttered moan escapes your lips when he shifts and his thigh brushes against your core
“you like that?” yunho grinds his thigh against you once more, eyes dark as he watches your face contort with pleasure. “bet you’d like to ride my thigh until you cum”
you’re about to hook your legs around his waist when there’s a yell from the doorway
yunho immediately retracts his hands and you rush to tidy the appearance of your top, both of your heads snapping towards the door
wooyoung is there, body already turning back the way he came from with a hand blocking his own view, “can you guys get a room or close the door at least?”
“or you can stop walking in on us,” yunho suggests with a red face
but the younger is already out of earshot, too busy prancing through the rest of the base announcing, “PB&J are fucking in the office again, nobody disturb them!”
yunho rubs the tips of his flushed ears and you pepper one final kiss along his jawline before you bend down to pick up the scattered files from the floor
“don’t tell me you’re going to read your stupid files again,” he groans
“well, reading these stupid files happen to be direct orders from hongjoong,” you retort
“then good thing i’ve already asked him for permission to take you out today”
he snatches the file from your hand and tosses it haphazardly onto the table, quirking an eyebrow teasingly
“what do you mean?”
yunho grabs your hand, leading you towards the door as he tells you excitedly, “let’s go on a date”
and that’s how you find yourself wrapped up in yunho’s coat over the thin sweater you slipped on because nobody told you that you’d be fucking freezing your ass off on the open rooftop of a building on christmas night
it had taken all but three seconds of stepping out onto the rooftop for a shiver to descend through your body from head to toe
“this is a date?” you had groused
yunho had then immediately taken off his coat to wrap around your shoulders as he made a pleased noise of affirmation
“then do tell me why you took your sniper along,” you sniffle a little, compliantly allowing yunho to button you up. “you want me to tell you how sexy you look while you shoot someone through the head?”
yunho grins down at you
“you think i’m sexy when i snipe people?”
you roll your eyes at his selective hearing
(you think he’s always sexy)
at your playful shove, he reaches into his pockets to pull out a pair of earplugs for you
“put them in,” he tells you before you can even ask what they’re for
when you make no move to do so, he gingerly tucks your hair out of the way so that he can put the plugs into your ears
watch me, he gestures with his hands
and then he is perching along the edge of the rooftop, setting up his sniper in front of him and adjusting the scope as he looks down the sight into the far distance
you watch as he applies pressure to the back of the rifle with his broad shoulder, as his slender fingers curl around the trigger, as he closes one eye and exhales a slow breath
then he shoots
you think that he is going to get up and finally tell you what he is doing, except he pulls the bolt back to chamber a new bullet and adjusts the angle of his rifle
and then he shoots again
you catch yourself staring at the veins running across the back of his hand and the way his finger flexes around the trigger
because you know all too well how it feels for his finger to flex in…other places
you lose count of how many times yunho pulls the trigger - at one point, he even reloads a magazine
he has almost finished the second round of bullets before he finally appears to be satisfied, scrambling up and dusting off his knees
with an eager tug once you have taken out your earplugs, he brings you to his sniper that he has left in its place on the floor
“look through the scope!”
you are careful to ease yourself down into a mimic of yunho’s earlier pose, knowing that even the slightest of nudges can displace the target by miles
hovering behind you, he shifts from foot to foot, waiting for you to see it
and when you do, your eyes nearly fall out in surprise
“yunho!” you exclaim, unable to fathom what you are seeing
because yunho has shot a fucking heart shape made out of bullet holes into the side of an abandoned building
“is this meant to be romantic?!”
contrary to your tone, you don’t think you have ever found your deadly 6’1” sniper boyfriend to be more endearing than now
he preens with the widest smile on his face, “yeah!”
you stand up with a matching smile of your own and step closer to pull him into a hug
“i don’t think i’ll be forgetting about this christmas for a while”
“you better not forget about it ever,” he threatens with a harmless tickle to your side
“thank you,” you tell him sincerely, “i love you”
he peppers your face with kisses, “i love you too”
distantly, you hear the sound of sirens, no doubt the sound of gunshots having been reported
“i guess that’s our cue,” he grins, stepping away from you and slinging the sniper over his shoulder
“our cue to do what?” you allow him to lace his fingers through yours
“our cue to fucking leg it”
and so with his hand warmly encasing yours, laughter bubbling out of your chests and cheeks flushing as the first flakes of snow start to fall, you both make a run for it
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yeosang
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“get some napkins, snacks, cooking oil and maybe a couple of drinks if you can carry it all”
you listen while seonghwa lists off the things you need to get from the shops for the christmas party
it’s nothing huge - just a get together between you, your older brother, hongjoong, and the rest of the ateez gang
yeosang sidles up to you to ask, “ready to go?”
as you smile with a nod and lean into him, hongjoong narrows his eyes from where he’s sitting on a chair
it seems like the two of you have gotten quite…close recently
not that you two weren’t already close before
and granted, hongjoong was the one who raised hell to ensure yeosang followed you everywhere as your bodyguard
except you and yeosang are getting a little too chummy for his liking
but then you’re giving seonghwa a quick goodbye peck on the cheek and you are turning around to look at your brother with that damned smile of yours to ask if he is coming along too, and hongjoong thinks that he’s just looking into things a bit too much
“yeah,” hongjoong gets up from his seat, “let’s go”
once your little trio makes it to the mart, you decide to divide and conquer the items on seonghwa’s shopping list
you’ve just grabbed a packet of napkins when someone suddenly tugs you down one of the aisles
the squeal of surprise that comes out of you quickly turns into an exasperated laugh seeing that it’s just yeosang
he’s looking at you with his sparkling eyes and expectant smile
“you’re hopeless,” you tell him because you know exactly what he wants
“hopelessly in love,” he corrects you, still waiting with an eager expression
you hiss his name and frantically look around to make sure your brother isn’t around before you relent and press a chaste kiss against the corner of his lips
yeosang immediately blushes and tries to hide the smile on his face like he didn’t literally just kidnap you into a shopping aisle demanding for kisses
you always find his bashfulness endearing though, so you rest your hands on his shoulders to balance on your tiptoes and quickly pepper several more kisses over the apples of his cheeks, the tip of his nose and the sharp of his jawline
“i don’t think santa needs rudolph this year,” you tap his nose affectionately, “you’re much brighter”
as you watch yeosang grow even redder at your statement, you wonder how this is the same man who will move heaven and earth to protect you
“y/n? yeosang?”
hongjoong’s voice is frighteningly close and you’re pretty sure he is just in the next aisle over
grabbing the first thing that you see, you clutch the item and the napkins to your chest and walk out to meet your brother
“there you two are,” hongjoong frowns, “what took you two so long?”
you reach out and touch his elbow in apology, “sorry, joong. i needed help finding the plastic plates”
except hongjoong doesn’t think you two are very sorry at all, because not only did he pay, but the backpack stuffed full with the shopping bags is now on his back
“why am i carrying the backpack,” he complains, looking at you and yeosang already mounted on the latter’s motorbike
yeosang smiles innocently and jerks his head back in your direction, “i’ve already got a cute little backpack”
“well that cute little backpack also happens to be my sister so shouldn’t she sit behind me- hey!”
you press yourself closer against yeosang’s back, both of you breaking out into laughter as he revs his bike and leaves hongjoong behind in the dust
your brother flips the bird at your backs, grumbling colourfully under his breath as he twists the throttle on his own motorbike to catch up to you two
and for someone who prides himself in being an observant mafia boss, it takes hongjoong many, many days to belatedly realise that plastic plates were never even part of the shopping list
yeosang gently takes your helmet from out of your grasp and tames an unruly strand of your hair that has become ruffled as you two walk back inside, bypassing seonghwa hanging a wreath on the front door
the eldest watches you two for a moment, seemingly in thought, before he picks up something else to hang up
that’s how, when hongjoong arrives a few minutes later with the shopping, he runs into seonghwa fixing mistletoe to the doorframe of the kitchen
“mistletoe?” hongjoong questions as he places the bags onto the countertop, “the fuck for?”
seonghwa shrugs vaguely, “the couples”
“the only couple i see is the couple of losers over there”
hongjoong stares pointedly into the living room, where san is starting to wriggle under the weight of the ornaments balancing on the top of his head and shoulders and hanging off his ears and fingers, courtesy of wooyoung who is currently yelling out stay still!
except the ornaments all come tumbling off in a flurry of movement when yunho thunders past them, mingi in tow
“snowball fight!!”’
it’s not snowing heavily but there’s a layer of snow thick enough for all nine of you to stumble outside in glee
and as it turns out, yeosang is very serious about his job as your bodyguard
even during snowball fights
jongho and yunho have formed some sort of alliance, so by an unspoken agreement, pretty much everyone else has teamed up in hopes of defeating the formidable pair
(no one’s entirely sure which side mingi is playing for, but he’s having fun scooping handfuls of snow and dumping them onto people, which is all that matters)
hongjoong is busy fending off wooyoung’s snowballs - another person who has broken the unofficial alliance - so yeosang stays close to you
he alternates between adding fresh ammo to your snowball pile and blocking any snowballs that are thrown around
it doesn’t matter if they’re thrown in your direction or not; if yeosang sees a snowball, then he is ready to keep it far, far away from you
somehow, amidst all the chaos, yunho manages to unearth a whole slab of snow that is still intact
he cackles evilly as he lifts it above his head and hurls it somewhere into the centre of the whole group
now, the deadly snow slab is nowhere even close to landing on you
but again, yeosang takes his job as your bodyguard - and boyfriend - very, very seriously
he makes a dive in your direction to take the hit and the angels up in heaven blow their trumpets in celebration when he knocks you over instead and you two fall into the snow together
he lands on top of you, arms bracing himself as he encases your frame underneath him
you’re a little winded - the breath has been knocked out of you, you want to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, and also yeosang looks extremely stunning
you can see every single snowflake that has fluttered down and clung onto his long lashes and soft hair, and it certainly doesn’t help that he’s looking at you with the most tender eyes
“merry christmas,” he murmurs with a smile, “i love you”
the sounds of snowballs breaking and consequent screeches mute themselves into the background, the crystal petals falling from the sky blurring in slow motion as yeosang dips down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss
one of his hands cradles your face gingerly as you sigh into the kiss, almost as if he is afraid you will melt and seep into the snow
jongho is about to take the opportunity to pelt yeosang’s exposed back with snowballs, but pauses his deadly pitch when he sees that the older is actually a little…preoccupied right now
he realises very quickly that not only have you two caught his attention, but you’ve also managed to grab hongjoong’s attention
said man squints his eyes at who he thinks is yeosang and…you?
you’re both awfully close together in a heap on the ground and hold the fuck up are you two kissing?
right before hongjoong can rub his eyes and take a closer look, a snowball is smashed to smithereens against his face
hacking snow out of his mouth, he searches furiously for the culprit, eyes landing on jongho who is staring right back at him with his hand still pitched forward from throwing the snowball
why jongho looks flustered, hongjoong has no idea
but it’s not like hongjoong can take on the younger anyway so he chooses to ignore the snowball and looks back in your direction
…where you and yeosang are both lying on your backs making snow angels
hongjoong frowns, rationalising that the kiss had just been a glitch in his imagination
because surely he would’ve noticed ages ago if you and yeosang were indeed dating
seeing as the leader shrugs it off and drops to the ground to shovel an enormous snowball with renewed vigour, jongho lets out a sigh of relief
that is
until wooyoung very helpfully points out, “why are yeosang’s lips all glossy”
you and yeosang freeze mid-snow angel
like zombies in a horror film, you and yeosang slowly sit up with unease creeping through your bodies as you both look towards your brother
his back is turned, body eerily still
most of the other members have also frozen, snowballs still clutched in their hands as their knowing pupils waver
then mingi also helpfully tacks on, “it looks like he kissed y/n or something”
at his words, hongjoong’s arms start to move again
he does not turn around yet, simply hums and says, “interesting”
yeosang nudges you with an elbow and theatrically whispers, “if we leg it right now, do you think it will notice”
it starts to stand up from its crouching position
“...i think it will, yeo”
hongjoong finally turns around and you can see that, similar to yunho not too long ago, he is carrying a huge slab of intact snow in his hands
what’s different is that hongjoong is most definitely not smiling
you have a feeling that he is going to be putting a new definition to snowball fight
hongjoong approaches with his snow weapon
“snowballs?” he shakes his head mockingly with a frighteningly blank expression
“after today,” his gaze drops down pointedly towards yeosang’s nether region, “no balls”
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san
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you don’t need to rely on your past experience working in an underground casino for you to know what the odds of your current gamble are
you are a mouse walking into the lion’s den
the last time you were with crescent - the mafia gang you had been brought into and was supposedly your family for almost a decade - you were wrongfully accused as being a traitor and had nearly lost your life
now here you are, walking back into crescent’s base with your own two feet just a mere few weeks later
and yet, you are not afraid
your former gang does not know, but tonight, you are the dealer of this poker game
minsu, crescent’s mob boss, leers at the sight of you entering the small building
they do not have many affiliates, having kept their numbers small over the years, but most of them have gathered together for drinks tonight
you already knew this, though
you have chosen to confront them on christmas for a reason
“ahh, merry christmas, darling,” minsu drawls saccharinely, “has santa answered my wishes for a personal slut?”
his words do not register in your ears when your eyes involuntarily flit over to the back of the room
there’s a face sitting in the corner that haunts you
the day you were labelled a traitor, you had been accompanying your capo to make a trade deal with a relatively new gang
the boss of the gang who is currently sitting in the same room as the rest of crescent, comfortable smirk on his face like he wants to show you that he is where he belongs
you realise now that it was a set-up all along
there was no deal to be made and there was no emerging gang
it was - is - crescent against you
looking back at minsu now, you address him, “why did you betray me”
he pretends to look appalled, one hand perched daintily against his chest as his jaw drops
“we saw the way you were getting closer to choi san of ateez,” he spits out san’s name, “and after you betrayed crescent during the trade, you ran pathetically to his doorstep like a damsel in distress, which only proved our suspicions”
he states it so believably, as if your loyalty wavered and led to your own inevitable downfall
it’s all bullshit though
you and san have never interacted outside of the negotiations your gangs made with each other
without anywhere to go after crescent had backstabbed you, only then had you sought san’s help
“so what are you doing back here, darling?” minsu stands up
he stalks closer towards you with fake pity plastered across his face, “to beg for forgiveness? to beg for us to spare your little boyfriend’s life?”
the flicker of fury inside of you is quickly growing into an inferno at minsu’s mocking tone
but before it starts to consume you, a new voice enters the fray
“i don’t think we’ll be the ones begging by the end of the night”
a figure steps in and you hear the sound of metal buckles scraping against the ground as a limp, bloodied body is also dragged along
the person comes to a stop beside you before they toss the body in their grasp carelessly to one side
the familiar lilt of their teasing reaches you
“hey, sweetheart”
the inferno inside you smothers itself out at their words
“choi san,” minsu snarls, hackles now raised at the unforeseen addition of his presence
the rest of crescent also seem to become restless, shifting on the edge of their seats or making a move to stand up
because they’re not foolish
they know san’s reputation for ruthlessness, particularly when someone has wronged him
and by extension-
more footsteps resound behind you
-the rest of ateez
you may be a mouse walking into the lion’s den
but when you have poachers behind your back, it becomes your den
minsu’s face finally drains of all blood when he realises the deep shit he has landed himself in
and so do several others, it seems
you wince slightly in embarrassment when a handful of his men scramble up from their seats and push past the ateez members surrounding you to run out of the building
for a moment, no one dares to breathe as they watch you and ateez with trepidation
san simply raises a brow as his eyes narrow with disinterest
the sounds of the cowards’ feet striking the pavement once they make it out onto the street are suddenly replaced by the crack of gunshots and the distinct thump of flesh falling to the ground
from somewhere up high, yunho chambers another bullet as he stares down the scope of his sniper with impassivity
“anyone else want to give that a try?�� san taunts
no one answers
hongjoong finally emerges from the flanks and almost immediately, the already-frigid atmosphere drops another several degrees
“a gang of members who have no qualms betraying their own will only end up destroying themselves eventually,” he calmly approaches minsu, who shuffles backwards in response
hongjoong continues, “as much as crescent isn’t worth my time, i don’t really feel like waiting for that day to come”
before anyone can react, he swipes a glass bottle from one of the tables and swings it across minsu’s head
the latter stumbles backwards in shock with a hand flying up to stem the blood flow coming from his temple
ateez do not need a further command
all at once, the members jump forward bloodthirsty for vengeance, save for san, who grabs a chair that mingi has quite literally tossed a person off and brings it over for you to sit on
he winks as he quips, “we’ll probably be on santa’s naughty list this year, but maybe if you just watch you’ll get away with it, sweetheart”
san knows you can hold your own in a fight, but he also knows that your ribs are still sore and bruised
so he waits until you sit with a laugh before he turns around to face the others
he doesn’t really care about most of the crescent lackeys
he knows hongjoong and the rest of ateez will wipe them out fine
who he really cares about is that bastard who pretended to lead the fake gang
and that motherfucker minsu
san is going to make them regret hurting you
san is going to make them wish they were never born
he advances towards them with deceptive calmness
minsu is slumped against a table, still licking at his wounds pathetically
he’s only alive because none of the members have bothered with him
san leaves him for the time being and takes out a dagger as he advances upon the nameless member who had duped you
easily evading the man’s frantic punch, san responds by slamming the hilt of his dagger against the other’s temple
the man goes crashing down and minsu tries to scramble away from them in fear
“i would cut your tongue off, since you spew so many fucking lies,” san grips the man’s jaw hard enough that his fingers turn white, “but i don’t want to touch your filthy mouth”
instead, san drags the dagger across the gang member’s throat
blood rapidly gurgles out of the wound as the man’s fingers make futile attempts to grasp san’s hands, but very quickly, he attempts to stem the blood flow instead
but a fence can only hold a dam back for so long
san shoves him aside and lunges for minsu
“your turn,” san smirks
whipping out his pistol, san flicks the safety off and shoots minsu’s hand as the latter lets out a primal shriek of pain
san shoots again, this time at his other hand, once more, through his calf, once more, through his stomach
minsu swears to the high heavens in between wails and howls, begging for san to stop
“what did i say,” san places a foot on his stomach wound and pushes down, “it wouldn’t be me or my sweetheart begging tonight”
minsu’s animalistic cries are silenced with a final gunshot
san exhales and makes his way back to where you are still seated to reassure, “you’ll never have to worry about crescent ever again”
“thank you, san,” you sink into his embrace
you’ll thank the rest of ateez later, but for now, you focus on the man in front of you
“i said that i would protect you, didn’t i, sweetheart?”
he gathers your face in his hands and thumbs the round of your cheeks sweetly
you nod in his grasp, blinking up at him through your eyelashes
“i want to kiss you,” san suddenly confesses, “can i kiss you?”
a teasing smile tugs at your lips, “it’s christmas. shouldn’t you kiss me under a mistletoe?”
san looks up to check, as if he really thinks that a mafia gang’s base would have mistletoe hanging from the ceiling
when he confirms that indeed there is not, his eyes wander around the room for a substitute until something appears to pique his interest
you watch as he unsheathes another dagger from his belt and points it in the direction of minsu’s body
“i can cut his foot off,” san tells you with determination, “then we’d have a minsu-toe”
amidst the last of the fighting amongst the room, someone overhears and chortles at san’s words
“i can’t believe you,” you let out your own laugh
“so…” san beams, “is that a yes?”
“fuck the mistletoe,” you laugh as you pull him forward, “just kiss me already”
and kiss you he does
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mingi
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for the first time ever, you think you hate the snow
even if it’s christmas eve today and it’s the first snowfall of the year
you had been prepared for a peak in business at your little bar, the mist, but with the sudden onset of heavy snowfall and a rapid drop in temperature, you’ve barely had any customers
admittedly, you are used to slow business considering there is a much larger bar, the chilli peppers, just across the street
but not even your few, regular customers have shown up today nor for the past few weeks
you’ve scanned the outside of your bar several times already, each time unfruitful as you are met with an empty street save for the falling snow and soft glow of the streetlamps
sighing, you decide to look out once more before making yourself a mixed drink when you spot a figure walking up to your doors
your breath hitches when you recognise who it is
it’s him
the handsome stranger who, you suppose, is not really a stranger anymore
it has been almost two months since he first took refuge in your bar while being chased by another gang
his visits since have been rare and infrequent, but they will always span late into the early hours of dawn when he does
“hey,” mingi softly greets you as he steps into your bar, a shy smile adorning his face
your stomach flutters as you stand up from your stool, “mingi, hi, hey, i wasn’t expecting you to come today”
you internally cringe at your own words
you hope he doesn’t pick up on the connotation that you wait for him to come on other days
he peers around hesitantly at your words, “should i, uh, go?”
one of your hands reach out in his direction before you even realise what you’re doing
“no- i meant,” you lick your lips, “it’s a nice surprise”
mingi’s shoulders relax
“i heard some areas lost power because of the snow,” he starts to explain, “so i thought i’d come to check on you- your bar”
your heart grows warm at his seemingly nonchalant words
fighting back a blush, you gesture around your bar, “well, i still got power-”
just as it fizzles and dies
the steady hum of the heater in the background of your bar also halts, creating a world of both darkness and silence
startled, you jump slightly
you can hardly see him in front of you as your eyes struggle to adjust to the gloom, yet mingi’s hand naturally finds your searching ones
he slips your smaller hand into his, gently squeezing and rubbing a thumb over your knuckles as he soothes, “i’ve got you”
you let out a nervous chuckle, not because you feel awkward but because it feels so natural to be soothed by his touch, and he reciprocates with his own soft laugh
“well,” you look up at him, “looks like business is closed for the night”
his eyebrows knit together in concern, “are you sure? i can call someone to get your power back up and running. i know a person”
he scratches the back of his neck as he continues to ramble, “or they could probably fix your whole area…yeah that’s a better idea, wouldn’t want you getting singled out or anything”
you’re not sure whether to be endeared or to be impressed by his connections
“you can do that?!” you gawk
mingi blinks twice as if to say, you can’t?
laughing, you shake your head and pat his hand that’s still holding yours to tell him that it’s okay
“i wasn’t getting customers anyway,” you reassure
selfishly, mingi is glad that you weren’t busy
because it means that he can have you all to himself
“do you want to stay for a bit?” you offer, “it’s probably not safe to leave with all the snow”
mingi is a member of a mafia gang
snow is the least of his worries
but he nods solemnly in agreement anyway
he thinks that his heart cannot squeeze with any more fondness at your concern until you carefully tug him forward by the hand to lead him up the stairs at the back of your bar, murmuring that there’s another step and the doorway’s a little low
it doesn’t matter that you’ve seen him being pursued by other gang members, or that he smells like gunpowder and has a pistol hidden on him - you still look out for him and mingi has to fight the urge to pull you into a hug
instead, he grips your hand a little tighter under the guise of not knowing where he should be stepping
in reality, he wants to make sure that he can keep you steady should you be the one to trip
usually, when the power cuts out like this, you will simply bury yourself under your covers until you fall asleep
but it seems like it’s a common occurrence now - when mingi is by your side, sleep is easy to forget
so you take him to the small room you’ve leased above your bar and it is as though you have both rediscovered the innocent joys of life
hushed giggles are shared as you rifle through your storage and take turns lighting up the stubborn candles you have found
you nudge him as he nudges you back over where to scatter the candles around the room for maximum brightness, both of you falling into another bout of laughter when a particularly hard nudge ends up snuffing the candles in your hands
mingi takes out his phone and creates a playlist of cheesy christmas songs that he lets run in the background
grabbing your hands, he twirls you around the cramped space of your living room as you flush with joy
you shyly let him lead you through his silly little dances, but very quickly, you are both spinning and jumping and swaying barefoot to the music as the candle flames flicker in tandem all around you
the excitement teeters off slowly as the playlist transitions to slower instrumentals and you realise that without the heating on, your room is starting to become freezing
mingi is first to notice, attuned to the way a quick shiver racks your body
“come here,” he says, arms already moving before he can think better of it
he grabs the blanket that covers the back of your small couch and throws half of it over himself, one arm extending the rest of it so that he can wrap it around your form too
mingi slowly rubs his hands up and down the sides of your arms as he shuffles the two of you over to sink down onto the couch
you have to remind yourself to keep breathing, even as his every touch leaves behind a trail of goosebumps and electricity
“better?” he asks after a while
untrusting of your voice, you nod instead whilst clearing your throat, trying not to chase the feeling of his embrace when he retracts his arms from around you
silence falls upon you two
it’s not uncomfortable
but with the lack of noise to distract you, you are acutely aware of his close proximity and the warmth that he emits from your side
“it’s pretty, isn’t it,” he muses, gaze focused on the falling snow outside the window
“it is…”
…with you here
“you know what they say about the first snowfall of the year?” he nudges you softly
you chew on your bottom lip
shyly, you offer, “that if you confess your love it becomes true,” at the exact same time mingi says-
“that you shouldn’t eat the snow for the first hour or two”
you quickly cough and splutter out a question to cover up your statement, “h-how come?”
“the snow absorbs all the bad stuff in the air when it first falls”
the grin on his face makes you think that he may have heard your answer after all
slightly embarrassed, you avert your gaze and fumble for something to say
mingi saves you though
he points at the clock that has just ticked past midnight
“merry christmas, y/n,” he says tenderly
“merry christmas, mingi”
you relish in the moment, not wanting this night to end
“did you have anything you wanted for christmas?” you ask him
he hums in affirmation, slowly mulling over his next words before he answers, “there was someone i wanted to see”
he’s looking ahead, and from where you’re sitting next to him, shoulders brushing with each slight movement, the warm glow of the candles accentuates the sharp slopes of his side profile
you’ve noted this before, but in this moment mingi is beautiful
“did…did you get to see them?” you’re unsure why you’re holding your breath in anticipation
he doesn’t answer straight away
there’s a beat of silence
then he’s slowly turning his head with a gentle smile
“yeah,” he breathes out, looking at you with his soft, round eyes, “yeah, i did”
with your rosy cheeks and bashful expression, mingi cannot help himself
he confesses
“and i still am”
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wooyoung
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wooyoung very naturally reaches across the counter with the barcode scanner so that he can align the laser with your id badge
he hums happily as your employee discount is applied to the bag of chips he is purchasing
at this point, you don’t even bat an eye
he has long made himself at home in your convenience store whenever you work the night shift
“so,” wooyoung says as he finishes ringing up the price, “why are you working on christmas eve?”
you tilt your head, confused
“why shouldn’t i be working on christmas eve? and why aren’t you working? don’t you need to manage all your lackeys at the boxing rings?”
“no? because it’s christmas eve? everyone takes the week off,” he frowns as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world
you didn’t realise the mafia celebrated christmas too
apparently you say that out loud, because he is suddenly crossing his arms
…a little too defensively for you to take him seriously
“i didn’t know you were the mafia police,” he grumbles, “you gonna pull out a handbook and tell me that section 3.2 bans christmas for the mafia?”
you chuckle as you attempt to appease the childlike fire in his eyes, “sorry, you guys just seem like-”
you think better of your words and pause
“seem like what?”
“nothing”
“what? tell me what you were going to say!”
he pounces on you, attempting to bite your forearm as you squeal and relent
“you guys seem like the type to beat santa up, not celebrate his existence”
he stares at you
you stare at him
“you have three seconds to run,” he tells you
and run you do
filled with glee, you dash out from behind the counter and weave through the narrow aisles in a circle, wooyoung hot on your heels with his own matching shrieks
you both collapse in a fit of uncontrollable laughter when he suddenly switches direction and you end up running straight into his arms
sitting on the dirty floor of your convenience store during the quiet hours of night, your eyes teary from how hard you and wooyoung are laughing, you do not think there is a better way to spend your christmas eve
“i get paid almost double for working today,” you explain when you have both settled back behind the counter, sharing the bag of snacks he paid for earlier
you toss a chip in the air for wooyoung to catch as you continue, “plus, i can’t just take holidays when i want to”
it bounces off his forehead and he fumbles to catch it before it hits the ground
“why not?”
“because my boss won’t let me”
“oh. that’s it?”
“tHaT’s iT? shut the fuck up,” you shove a chip into his mouth as he sniggers
he excuses himself to make a quick call, so you take the opportunity to finish off the remainder of the snacks
hah.
this time, when he walks back in and sees the empty packet, he does bite you
and he makes you buy him another bag as compensation
(honestly, he should be buying you snacks because if you’re honest, you’re pretty sure he has enough money to buy your store and the whole chain)
you’re sharing the second bag of chips - read as: wooyoung being petty and hogging the snacks - when the store is suddenly plunged into dimness for a split second
you look up, blinking as you watch the lights flicker once, twice, and then completely die out with a fizzle
there’s still enough light coming from the frozen section as the standby generator kicks in for you to make out the inside of the store and wooyoung’s raised eyebrow
then the door chimes, alerting you to the arrival of customers
…or not-customers, you suppose
honestly, you should really be used to this by now
two men saunter in with shoulders squared like they own the place
you take one look at their balaclavas and the pistols in their hands and deduce that, “they wouldn’t happen to be some of your friends, right?”
wooyoung steps a little closer to whisper back, “nope”
“well, fuck. you going to do something about them or what?”
“are you kidding me? they’ve got guns”
“you’re part of the mafia. you’re telling me you don’t have one on you?”
he has the fucking nerve to flirt with you as he flexes his arms
“the only guns i got are these bad boys”
the men point their guns threateningly and wooyoung has the common sense to pipe down, both of you raising your hands cautiously
“get in the car,” one of them snarls
wooyoung moves after a split moment of hesitation, arms still raised as he walks towards the door
he looks back at you to see if you are following along, as if you two are taking a walk in the park and not being kidnapped at literal gunpoint
you’re going to roundhouse kick his head off once you make it out of this alive
his stupid gang better be real good at finding people
the kidnappers usher you and wooyoung into the back of a car, a very nice one you must say
it’s spacious and well-cushioned
at least the trip to whatever warehouse or abandoned building they take you to will be a comfy one
the door locks click and you hit the headrest behind you when the driver steps on the accelerator
“jesus christ! can you drive any faster?” wooyoung yells
you jerk your head sideways to look at him in horror
what is he thinking, provoking the armed men like that?
the man in the passenger seat must also share the same thought, because he whips his head around dangerously fast to stare at wooyoung
oh shit shit shit-
he raises a hand
he’s going to shoot wooyoung-
and pulls off his mask
“that’s not what you were saying when you called us 15 minutes ago, wooyoung”
“san?!” you screech in recognition
“hi again, darling,” san greets you with a sweet, dimpled smile, as if everything is okay
the driver also takes off their mask and he looks at you through the rearview mirror as he introduces himself, “hi, i’m mingi!”
you are absolutely incredulous
“you staged a whole fucking kidnapping for fun?”
wooyoung looks overjoyed, “so you can enjoy christmas eve!”
you’re not sure whether you want to laugh or cry at the ridiculousness of the situation
“you do realise the police are going to interrogate me, right?”
“don’t worry. jongho has connections with the police,” san reassures you
“what about the security footage?”
“hongjoong jammed the feed so there’s none,” mingi pipes up
“my boss is going to find out when he comes to check the morning shift”
“nah,” wooyoung waves away your concern this time, “he’ll be out of commission for a solid week or so”
now that catches your attention
sighing, you pinch the bridge of your nose as you close your eyes and ask very calmly, “what did you guys do to my boss?”
wooyoung lets out a weak chuckle as he presses himself a little closer to the car door; a little further away from you
“yeosang may have, uh, knocked him out”
at your silence, he scrambles to redeem the situation, tugging at the end of your shirt for forgiveness, “we made sure to give your boss a pillow for his neck while he’s out cold!”
“you’re insufferable,” you tell him, starting to feel exhilarated from the whole situation
“just for you,” wooyoung puckers his lips teasingly
you sigh to conceal the smile that is starting to creep onto your face, but you are weak for him and he knows, so you don’t pull away when he laces his fingers through your hand
“merry christmas eve,” he beams at you
there’s the faint sound of someone gagging
wooyoung’s adoring gaze doesn’t leave you, not even as he kicks the back of san’s chair hard
you laugh, truly happy and free, “you know i’m still going to get fired for this, right?”
there’s silence
“well,” wooyoung contemplates
and for a split second, you think he is going to offer you a solution for the mess he made
but then again, what did you expect from wooyoung
“does this mean we get to spend christmas together then?”
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jongho
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jongho has one hand in the pocket of his slacks
his stance is relaxed, even as his other hand aims the gun at the police officers in front of him
they cower despite the abundance of money piled on the table before them and the stars and service strips that decorate their uniforms
after all, what use is dirty money and corrupt power in the face of death?
pathetic
their pleas for mercy fall on deaf ears
several gunshots ring out, followed by the thud of bodies dropping to the ground
elsewhere, you notice that it’s nearly time for you to clock out
it’s christmas eve and you are not spending a minute longer than you need to here in this hellhole
double checking that your badge is somewhere in your bag, you make a move to leave the police station when there is a sudden influx of noise
pagers beep, phones ring, voices shout
your ears perk up to catch the conversation and you hear the same few names leaving the lips of the police officers around you
the blood coursing through your veins freezes
because you know these names
these names have been burned into your brain, only recently, but still to the point where you can see them clearly whenever you close your eyes
they’re all officials in positions of high power, spending their days in air-conditioned offices and not actually doing anything apart from accepting bribes
but the thing that truly links them together - the secret that quite possibly, of the people in the station right now, only you’ve discovered through your connections - is that they are all involved in covering up the death of an officer five years ago
your father’s death
jongho and his gang have made sure that your father’s murderer has paid the price with his own life-
“all killed?!” you hear the police of chief gush with disbelief
-as have the corrupt officers who buried your father’s case, so it seems
a sense of calm settles over you
the clock tells you that it’s now three minutes past the end of your shift
the news is not a bad note to end on before your two-day christmas break
you sling your bag over your shoulder while the rest of the officers continue to speculate with nervous energy
the police force had no qualms turning their back on you years ago, so neither do you on them
you leave
when you make your way home, back to the modest apartment you now share with jongho, you are greeted by the smell of a cooking meal and the warmth of the blasting heater
you enter the open kitchen whilst removing your scarf
jongho is there in his suit, his coat slung over the back of a chair, tossing an assortment of diced vegetables into a pot of boiling soup
his sleeves have been rolled up to his elbows and you feel your throat go a little dry when the muscles along his forearm flex as he holds up the chopping board
you notice there are streaks of dried blood across his sleeves
and you would be concerned about the blood if this weren’t such a common occurrence
you know now that it’s never his own
when he notices your quiet presence, jongho turns to look at you the same way he always does whenever you come home from work
like he can never quite believe that you’re here with him after so many years apart
he greets you, smiling with anticipation, “did you like my christmas present?”
your mind flashes back to the frenzied panic at the station just earlier
“that was you?” 
the smirk you receive is more than enough of an answer to your question
“you didn’t have to, jongho,” but despite your words, you walk over appreciatively into his outstretched arms
“of course i did,” he shushes you with a deep kiss as his arms wrap around you tightly. “nobody messes with my girl”
his words send a hot rush right through your body
the corner of his lips quirks as he feels you squirm a little in his hold
“cop or not,” he nudges your head to the side so he has easy access to nip at your throat, “you’re mine to protect”
you fist the front of his shirt in an attempt to hold back a needy whine, instead, letting out a shaky breath that does little to hide how affected you are
in a last-ditch effort to take control of the situation, you take a step back and reach into the side pocket of your uniform to pull out your handcuffs
“too bad this cop is going to arrest you for murder,” you joke
jongho cannot help but smile at the cocky facade you put on when your cheeks are so clearly flushed
he brings his wrists together in front of him and offers his hands to you
“are you going to frisk me too, officer?”
when you swallow, now silent, jongho continues, “i might be armed with something that could…destroy you”
a shiver of excitement runs through you and it doesn’t go unnoticed
he steps forward to close the gap between you both, one hand reaching for the handcuffs hanging loosely from your grasp
jongho pauses when his fingers touch the cool metal, waiting for you to look at him properly
you see his eyes darting between your own as he searches for any signs of discomfort or hesitation
can i?
you let go of the handcuffs so that they are in his hold alone
yes
his gaze turns predatory almost immediately
“my turn,” he rasps lowly
he flips you around so that you face the kitchen counter, grabbing your arms and holding them behind you
you are pliant under his touch, but you cannot deny that it turns you on when he is a little rougher with you
jongho cuffs your wrists together and he waits as you tug on them experimentally
you feel the flutter of his fingertips dancing around where the metal surrounds your wrists
“is this okay?” he asks, voice gentle again
you reassure him, “yeah, more than okay,” before you emphasise your words by grinding your ass back against him
he tuts with a chuckle as he stands steady behind you, allowing you to use his rapidly-hardening cock for stimulation while his hands rest on your waist
it’s not enough though
“touch me, please,” you breathe out
“please, who?” he teases, hands sliding up and down your sides but never adding any pressure
your thighs clench because you know exactly what he wants
“please, officer,” you beg
“see, that wasn’t so hard,” jongho whispers right into your ear
the buttons on your uniform blouse are suddenly undone and in one swift motion, he yanks your bra down to expose your breasts
his fingers find your nipples easily, familiar with every inch of your body, and you let out a gasp of pleasure when he pinches them
he pins your hips against the countertop with his own, clothed bulge pressing firmly into you
your cuffed hands scrabble to find purchase when he nudges your legs open with his thigh
but then all of a sudden, his heated touches and wandering hands disappear
the whine you let out at the loss of his presence is almost pathetic as you twist your head around to look for him
“give me a second, baby, i just need to,” he steps over to the bubbling pot of soup and twists the knob down on the stove, “adjust the fire”
you bend forward onto the countertop, exposing the wet patch that you are sure has started to show on the crotch of your pants
“jongho,” you start to beg again, “i want to cum”
“i know, baby, but i don’t want to burn our house down and i want to make sure i get to feed you dinner,” he strides back to you in two quick steps
“now that that’s sorted,” he turns your body around so that you’re facing him, “i think it’s time for my appetiser”
he swiftly tugs your pants and panties down, kneeling to tap on your ankles lightly, a silent request for you to step out of your clothes
he tosses them to one side before his hands come back up to grip either of your thighs so that he can spread your legs
you brace your cuffed hands against the edge of the countertop behind you
it’s not the most comfortable position to be in, but then jongho is using his fingers to spread your pussy apart and your ability to form any coherent thought leaves your body
he blows lightly on your clit, enjoying the way you flinch at the sensation
“look at you,” he drags a fingertip at an agonisingly slow pace through your folds, “already so wet when i’ve barely even touched you”
he holds you still when you try to grind down on his finger
“use your words, baby,” he grins up at you with a smug expression
“i need y-”
he cuts your words right off by attaching his lips to your clit, drawing out a strangled cry of pleasure from you
you feel the long-awaited stretch of your pussy as jongho foregoes one finger and plunges two digits straight into your hole
“fuck!” the curse slips out of you when he sucks and licks your clit in time with the thrusts of his fingers scissoring in and out of you
he curls a finger and your knees very nearly buckle from under you, your back arching as jongho groans against your pussy and continues to abuse the sensitive spot he has found
a pressure starts to build in your core
“i’m close,” you manage to choke out
you miss the moment jongho briefly removes his lips to glance to his side, replacing his mouth with a thumb to rub harsh circles against your clit, before he tells you, “not yet, baby”
“i can’t, jongho, please, let me cum,” you plead
“wait, hang in there a little longer. i know you can,” yet despite his words, he shoves his fingers up harder with renewed vigour
you almost sob from desperation, “wait for fucking what?! your dick isn’t even in me!”
“just a little longer, baby,” he reassures you as your thighs shake around him
you can’t do it anymore
you have to cum
you have to-
“cum,” he simply says, before reattaching his mouth to your clit
your orgasm rips through you and you cannot do anything but tremble and shudder under the administrations of his tongue and fingers
jongho holds you through it all, milking out your orgasm until its very last waves-
just as the timer on the stove goes off
“what the fuck?” you blurt out
your mind is still hazy from pleasure but you’re pretty fucking sure he just timed your orgasm with the stove
jongho licks his fingers with a brazen smile and then goes over to peer into his pot of soup
after he gives it a final stir, he turns the fire off completely and places a lid on the top to keep it warm
you watch, rendered speechless
except when he turns back around, you stay silent for a completely different reason
he eyes you hungrily as he strips his tie and unbuttons his dress shirt
“round two, baby”
he grabs your cuffed hands and guides you towards your shared bedroom, then fishes out the keys from your blouse
you welcome the feeling of jongho unlocking your handcuffs for a moment of rest
settling against the head of the bed, you watch as jongho fully sheds his shirt and lets it drop to the ground
he unzips his slacks and his cock springs free, the bulbous head a tantalising pink as he easily strokes himself to full erection
your pussy clenches desperately around nothing in anticipation and jongho watches your own arousal leak out
he gathers your wrists together once more and pins them above you, handcuffing you to the headboard as you completely submit to him
jongho leans over you and encases your smaller frame with his muscular build
his voice is low and teasing
“you have the right to remain silent,” he says as he aligns his girthy length with your entrance, “but i doubt you will”
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#one day hongjoong's will be pure fluff and you'll be left thirstin#switching it up 😌☝️#we've got joong san jongho now#WDYM THE MAFIA DON'T TAKE ADVANTAGE OF CHRISTMAS AND GO ON A CRIME RAMPAGE ???#WHEN I TELL YOU I LAUGHED SO HARD AT THE INFLATABLE SANTA TAG#PLEASE#the image of him ricocheting off and landing on top like those vids of people bouncing off the boxing ring ropes onto their opponents#HAS ME HOWLING#AND SO DOES THE CERTIFIED ORPHAN#BECAUSE THAT WAS HONESTLY ME IF MY MUM EVER CAME HOME LATE BY LIKE FIVE MINUTES#yun stop shooting bullets and come shoot your shot#i'm waiting 💅#yeo really is just domestic fluffy scarves fluffy mittens fluffy blankets coded#idk i kinda imagined their party to be at someone's apartment so /very technically/ their base has no mistletoe#only broken christmas trees and cookies thanks to joong#OMG I'M SO HAPPY YOU REMEMBERED CCG#didn't use that reference bc i didn't know if many people would have read / remembered the original and the part 2#it's crazy to think how attached we are to a fictional leather coat 🤪#just taking delulu to another levelulu#NAH MAN YOU BEST BET WOO AIN'T MAKING YOU WORK#you gonna be his princess#and you're gonna have to fight him to let you work#JONGHO SMUT JONGHO SMUT JONGHO SMUT INDEED#this is the most amount of tags in a reblog i've ever received#i couldn't even fit it into one screenshot#but this brought me so much joy and laughter#like THANK YOU THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart <333#laura 🦭
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rin-hanarin · 1 month ago
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Fine, I guess I'll eventually get over my annoyance with obvious shameless biases of people in charge of the Veilguard, and I'll do it for Renzo de Riva because he's cool 😮‍💨
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wonder-worker · 7 months ago
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"In total, Leonor governed Navarre as lieutenant, with some minor hiatuses, from 1455 to 1479, making her the effective ruler of the realm for nearly twenty five years. Out of her female predecessors, only Juana I served a longer period; however, Juana I was detached from the governance of the realm and physically distant from Navarre. Leonor however, remained in the kingdom throughout her lieutenancy, making her the female sovereign with the highest record of residency in Navarre.
One of the enabling factors for Leonor’s constant presence in the realm was the “Divide and Conquer” power-sharing mechanism that she employed with her husband, Gaston of Foix. Blanca and Juan had a similar division of duties, but unlike her parents’ often contrary objectives, all of Leonor and Gaston’s actions can be seen to be working toward their joint goals of obtaining the Navarrese crown and politically dominating the Pyrenean region. In order to achieve their ambitions, the couple were adept at working as a team even when physically seperated or carrying out divergent duties.
Politically, it appears that they took on different areas of negotiatiion. Gaston was the designated emissary to the French court, which was entirely appropriate as one of the French king’s leading magnates. One important example of his involvement in negotiations of this type include Gaston’s visit to the French court in the winter of 1461–62 to negotiate the marriage between their heir and the French princess, Magdalena, which ensured Louis XI’s backing for Leonor’s promotion to primogenita. Gaston also conducted negotiations on behalf of his father-in-law, Juan of Aragon, with the King of France, with a successful outcome in the case of the Treaty of Olite in April 1462, which was intimately connected to the marriage that Gaston was orchestrating for his son and Magdalena of France.
Even though Gaston normally took on the role of intermediary with the French crown, there are two letters issued by Leonor during her marriage in December 1466 as lieutenant of Navarre that show her involvement in French affairs. These letters were written during a period of extreme crisis, when Juan II’s difficulties in Catalonia were matched with Leonor’s continuing struggle with the Peralta clan in Navarre. In these letters, Leonor was playing on her familial connection to Louis XI, in hopes of his aid and backing, asking him to “commend this poor kingdom and the said princess to him [Louis XI] as one who is of his house.” Moreover, these letters show Leonor’s independent interaction in crucial diplomatic negotiations with France, both in receiving embassies directly from Louis and in sending her own personal ambassador, Fernando de Baquedano, with detailed instructions on how to proceed.
Gaston appears to have been more engaged with marital negotiations for their numerous offspring than Leonor. However, this may be due to the fact that the couple overwhelmingly chose French marriages for their children. Only three of Leonor’s children did not contract a French betrothal: Pierre who became a cardinal, a daughter who died young, and Leonor’s youngest son, Jacques (or Jaime), who married into the Navarrese nobility. Given the fact that Gaston was more intimately connected to the French court and the nobility of the Midi, it seems reasonable that he would take on the role of chief negotiator for these matches. All of the marital arrangements for their children were made in order for Gaston and Leonor to achieve their joint goals, the acquisition of the throne of Navarre and the consolidation of their power and influence in the Pyrenean region.
Another area where Gaston necessarily played a more central role was militarily. Robin Harris acknowledges Gaston’s successful military career and notes that after his useful military service to the French crown, “the comte was permitted by the [French] king in the last years of his life to employ his military resources in order to further his family’s interests in Navarre.” Gaston also performed many military services for his father-in-law; the agreement of 1455 that promoted Leonor and Gaston to the successors of the realm required Gaston to go to Navarre on Juan’s behalf and retake those areas that had fallen to the rebels “for the honor of the King of Navarre as well as for his own interests and those of the princess his wife."
However, there is some evidence for Leonor’s involvement in one military foray. In the winter of 1471, Leonor took part in a daring attempt to seize the capital, Pamplona, from her opponents, the Beaumonts. Leonor participated in an attempt to storm one of the city gates with a group of armed supporters. Moret notes that “this surprise was reckless; for it exposed the person of the princess to obvious risk and was somewhat rash.” Moreover, the element of surprise was ruined by the cries of her supporters shouting “ Viva la Princesa !” which alerted the Beaumont troops to the threat, and Leonor and her supporters were swiftly ejected from the city.
Like her mother, the noted peacemaker, Leonor was also involved in moves to reduce the civil discord in the realm. Zurita credited Leonor with “making a great effort to resolve the differences of the parties and subdue the kingdom into union and calm.” Leonor represented her father in negotiations for a truce with the supporters of the Principe de Viana on March 27, 1458, at Sang ü esa. Zurita notes, “The princess Lady Leonor was there at that time in Sangüesa and signed the treaty with the power of the king her father.” Leonor was instrumental in the forging of another truce that was contracted in Sangüesa, in January 1473, and she was also present at a conference with her father and her half-brother Ferdinand in Vitoria in 1476 “accompanied by the nobility of Navarre to renew the treatties . . . and attempt to arrive at a stable peace.
Although both spouses were named to the lieutenancy of Navarre, the documentary evidence clearly demonstrates that Leonor appears to have taken on the bulk of the administration of the realm. This was entirely appropriate as it was Leonor, not Gaston, who had the hereditary right to the crown. Moreover, it was logical for Leonor to remain in Navarre so that her husband could look after his own patrimonial holdings and continue to serve as a military commander for the King of France.
Leonor was an active lieutenant but she struggled to implement her rule fully across the kingdom, as many areas were dominated by the Beaumont faction who were opposed to her and her father Juan of Aragon. This meant that at times, she had no control or access to certain key cities in the realm, including the capital, as mentioned previously. Her grandfather’s impressive seat at Olite was the center of her sister’s court, but Leonor eventually regained her hold on the castle and used it as one of her primary residences between 1467 and 1475. Sangüesa remained an important base for Leonor, and she was also associated with Tudela on the southern edge of the kingdom.
Leonor’s difficulty in implementing her rule across the whole of the kingdom is illustrated by a prolonged struggle between the lieutenant and the town of Tafalla, which consistently refused to send representatives when she called together meetings of the Cortes. Tafalla was a center of Beaumont strength, which had supported her brother Carlos in his struggle with Juan of Aragon and was thus bitterly opposed to her appointment to the lieutenancy. Between 1465 and 1475 there is a series of missives from Leonor both summoning representatives from the town and then expressing disappointment when they failed to arrive. During this period, Leonor appears to have called a meeting of the Cortes at least six times, but the town consistently refused to send envoys to the assembly. There is a sense of increasing exasperation and anger in these documents at the repeated failure to participate in these important events. At one point, in late 1471, Leonor personally came to the town to give advance notice of her intent to call another Cortes the following summer, perhaps to circumvent any excuse that the town did not have sufficient time to send representatives, but Tafalla still did not participate in the assembly.
As her authority was contested, Leonor was keen to stress her agency and her position in the documents that she issued. However, at times she even struggled with the chancery; between 1472–73, Juan de Beaumont retained the seals of the kingdom and refused to let Leonor have access to them. In 1475, she granted a reduction in taxes to the important city of Estella acknowledging the reduced capacity of the city to pay after the population had shrunk from the effects of war and flooding. In this document she stressed her efforts to assist all of the urban centers of the realm, to help them recover from the years of civil conflict and devastation, “the other good towns of the said realm have been refurbished by our certain knowledge, special grace, our own change and royal authority.
Leonor’s address clause drew on all of her family and marital ties as a means of establishing her authority:
 “Lady Leonor, by the grace of God princess primogenita , heiress of Navarre, princess of Aragon and Sicily, Countess of Foix and Bigorre, Lady of Bearn, Lieutenant general for the most serene king, my most redoubtable lord and father in this his kingdom of Navarre.”
The signet that Leonor used for the majority of her lieutenancy as well as her sello secreto had heraldic devises that mirror her address clause, bearing the arms Navarre, her family dynasty of Evreux, her husband’s counties of Foix, Béarn, and Bigorre, and finally the Trast á mara connections to Aragon, Castile, and Léon.
To sum up, Gaston and Leonor’s ability to divide up roles and responsibilities demonstrates the couple’s effective partnership, using each partner in the most appropriate arena. Moreover, this division was entirely necessary as the couple’s widespread territorial holdings and the demands of balancing the complicated and difficult political situation both within Navarre and the Midi and between France, Castile, and Aragon meant that both partners needed to be fully engaged and active in order to achieve their mutual goals and further their dynastic interests.
Even though Leonor and Gaston generally employed this mode of “Divide and Conquer” that left Leonor primarily responsible for the administration of Navarre while Gaston oversaw his own sizable patrimony, the couple did work together as a unit whenever possible. Documentary evidence shows that Gaston came to stay with Leonor in Navarre for short periods, particularly during the autumn of 1469 and 1470. There is also some additional evidence to indicate an earlier reunion in 1464, which appears to indicate a desire on the part of the couple to be together. Gaston and his party were stuck in the mountain passes between Foix and Navarre on his way to visit Leonor. The princess issued a series of orders to dispatch men and pay for additional recruits and mules in the mountains in order to clear the passes and roads for Gaston, including one order for 300 men to be sent to help. Gaston’s death in 1472 took place on another journey to see his wife in Navarre; he died en route of natural causes in the Pyrenean town of Roncesvalles.
 Overall, Gaston and Leonor worked together with the mutual goal of obtaining the crown of Navarre, throwing the weight of Gaston’s power, wealth, connection, and military forces behind Leonor’s hereditary rights and were willing to fight off opposition from their own family in order to succeed. They worked in partnership, with each partner taking on the most appropriate role; Leonor was responsible for the governance of Navarre, and Gaston supported her militarily and financially. They both worked on diplomatic efforts to achieve their ambitions; Gaston used his position as a powerful French vassal and general to gain support while Leonor negotiated with her Iberian relatives to maintain their rights.
[...] Tragically perhaps, Leonor hardly had a chance to enjoy the position of queen regnant when it finally came her way. Leonor’s death, only a few weeks after her father’s in February 1479, meant that her rule as queen lasted less than a month. Leonor changed her address clause to reflect her altered position as “Queen of Navarre, Princess of Aragon and Sicily, Duchess of Nemours, of Gandia, of Montblanc and Peñafiel, Countess of Bigorre and Ribagorza and Lady of Balaguer.” Ram í rez Vaquero points out that most of these titles were disputed; several were titles that should have come to her as part of her paternal inheritance from her father but in reality would have gone to her half-brother Ferdinand de Aragon. In addition, the French titles that Leonor had held as Gaston’s wife had already been passed to her grandson. It appears that Leonor had enough time to mount a formal coronation, on January 28, 1479, at Tudela, firmly establishing herself as Queen of Navarre, even if only for a brief moment. Moret remarked that “out of all the kings and queens of Navarre she was the one who reigned the shortest, although she may have been the one who desired [the crown] most.”
-Elena Woodacre, "Leonor: Civil War and Sibling Strife", The Queens Regnant of Navarre: Succession, Politics and Partnership, 1274-1512 (Queenship and Power)
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novelcain · 1 year ago
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I just accidentally read transgression as trans aggression.
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camstardust · 10 months ago
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why do i have to overthink about literally anything that my friend says???? why can't i SHAKE IT OFFFF?????????
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theflyingfeeling · 1 year ago
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...😵
tl;dr: I want to open fic requests for December but I'm scared 🤧
~
ugh I always feel so self-conscious about talking about my fics because I feel like I'm always talking about (my) fics or (my) fic ideas, and the mean part of my brain is constantly trying to convince me that everyone is sick of that already and think I'm an attention seeker (which I swear I'm not 😭 having said that, I want to clarify that I'm not implying I think anyone who talks about their fics is an attention seeker! it's more about me expecting everyone to hate me specifically for constantly talking about mine 🤡)
in addition, I'm scared of everyone getting bored of all the Olli/Allu talk on my blog as well (apart from the lovely people who send me Olli/Allu related asks almost daily, I love you all so much 🥺💕) and that people think I'm incapable of talking about anything else (which is not the case, even if I do spend a worryingly lot of time thinking about these two nerds 😂)
oof, so now that I've gotten all that mandatory self-depracating talk out of the way: I really want to try and create an Olli/Allu prompt fic challenge for myself for December 😭
yes I knooooowwww there are already at least two fandom events for December and I could just participate in those and I'm sorry for being greedy and attention-seeky but...I kinda want to make my own 🥺 because I'd like to make it prompt-based, because I think that would be fun 🥺 a word-prompt maybe, or a situation-prompt, perhaps from a list of prompts I've compiled myself to make sure I can handle it, because I'm still traumatized by how horribly I failed with the super adorable Valentine's Day prompts last winter, because my brain just wasn't braining the way I needed it to brain 😭 for this reason I'm also considering just coming up with my own prompts, because I swear I could come up with 24 different fic ideas in one sitting with little to no problem, but on the other hand, getting requests is also super fun... 😩
also, if I was to open requests, I feel like I'd have to do more than Olli/Allu, because I understand it's not everyone's OTP (actually I don't but you do you lol (jk)), and I do want to write other pairings as well, but some pairings inspire me more than others, and recently I've felt like I've been inspired by Olli/Allu only, and maybe Joel/Joonas occasionally
another two-bladed issue is that while I feel like requests would perhaps make me more motivated to write, there's also a very likely chance they might start to feel like a chore, because when I'm not motivated, I simply can't force myself to write for the sake of fulfilling a request 🥲 that's just not how I work, no matter how much I wish I could. and I absolutely don't want to go through all the guilt and crying buckets for not fulfilling requests like I did earlier this year. I know I'm not quite as miserable now as I was then, so maybe I could bribe my brain to brain the way I need it to brain this time around, but the risk I'd be taking is just too terrifying 😭
so anyone who writes a ton of fics on request: you guys are my fucking heroes and I don't understand how you do it, can you spare a tip or two for a poor brainless fic-writer who's only able to write when the stars are in the exact right position? 🥺 and no, saying stuff like "you don't have to fulfil every request you get, that's completely alright and your readers will understand" will NOT do, because hellooooooooo of course I'll feel unnecessarily guilty about not fulfilling prompts even if there's no good reason for me to do so, don't you know me at all?! 😭😭😭😭😭 of course I know that my sweet, amazing, loving, world-deserving readers will be unreasonably understanding and not hold it against me if I did end up failing to fulfil their requests, but I'd still feel terrible about it, and there's nothing anyone could say or do about it I'm afraid 🤧
(I'd also be more than happy to collaborate with other content-creators for this but 1) there are already two fandom events for December, 2) I'm sort of only interested in writing Olli/Allu myself and making the whole challenge just about them would seem a tad circle-jerky and I'd hate to exclude anyone, and 3) not enough braincells to carry out a whole entire fandom event by myself)
so if anyone has any suggestions or ideas or tips regarding what kind of (perhaps) prompt-based fic challenge I could do without scaring myself shitless, I'd like to hear from you, totally alright if not though < feel free to ignore I promise I understand 🥺
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awne · 2 years ago
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WE ARE GOING TO GET THE WEDDING WE DESERVE WITH LYSANDER, KENTIN AND ARMIN!!!!!!!!! IM GONNA BE ARMIN'S WIFE!!!!! AT LAST!!! LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOO WE WON EVERYONE!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭
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morska--vila · 1 year ago
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I made this in a parallel universe
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always-just-red · 1 month ago
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A multi-headcanon request please. How the boys react when they discover their s/o has been hiding a wound from them because she had it under control and didn't want to give them something else to worry about
Hi! Thanks so much for the request and all the support! Have written a little fic for each of the guys, starring... - Xavier, Deepspace Hunter extraordinaire ✨ - Linkon's worst best baking partner, Zayne 🍪 - Drama queen Rafayel 👑 - King of self-care, Sylus 💅
Putting On A Brave Face
L&DS Boys x Reader
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Summary: Sometimes, a certain hunter likes to say things are fine when they definitely aren't...
Genre: A lil bit of angst, mostly fluff + comfort!
Warnings/Additional tags: female reader, established relationship, swearing, canon pet names, some injury details/blood mentioned, teeeeency bit of suggestion (I'm looking at YOU, Sylus...)
| Word count: 4k (1k each!) | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!
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Xavier ⭐
This is bad. Not ‘end of everything as we know it’ bad, but definitely ‘an obscene amount of paperwork’ bad.
You clutch one of your pistols to your chest— deep breath— and you listen carefully, your head leant back against the rock you’re using as cover. Your mind latches on to every sound: each growl, each rumble of earth that marks the movements of the Wanderers that have trapped you here.
You’ve fought worse odds, but then again, you don’t usually have to do it with a broken leg.
Or maybe just sprained? You shift a little, trying to move, and the pain that sears through you settles the debate in an instant. Your teeth sink into the back of your hand to keep you from crying out.
You hope Xavier’s ok. You sent him your co-ordinates minutes ago, and the lack of response has worry gnawing away at the deepest parts of you. You check your hunter’s watch.
Still nothing.
Another deep breath, and you readjust your position as much as you can. Balancing on your good leg, you manage to peer over the top of the rock to get a visual of your surroundings.
There’s four, no— five Wanderers. Stupid no-hunt zone; you’re never not outnumbered.
You can see your second pistol, abandoned in the middle of the clearing where you’d dropped it. There’s flickers of movement, too: further in the woods. More Wanderers. Shit.
You duck behind the rock you’re starting to think might be your new home. Then your watch flickers, broadcasting a map of the area, and there’s the co-ordinates of another hunter, closing in fast.
Something flashes in the clearing, lighting the dark of the forest like a stutter of lightning. Then again. Then again. There’s a blood-curdling roar, and it ends— abrupt— with another flash.
Everything goes silent, save for a familiar voice calling your name.
“Xavier!” you call back.
You peek over the rock to see your partner jogging towards you, dead Wanderers littered behind him. “Are you alright?” he asks, his voice soft as always, but his sword is still dripping blood.
“I’m ok.” You clamber up, using the rock as a seat when the small effort almost breaks you. “You?”
Xavier draws close— his gloved hands on your face, cupping your cheeks. His thumb grazes over a shallow scrape on your brow. “Yeah,” he answers.
“Did you find that weird Wanderer?”
He shakes his head: no. Steps back to check his watch. “It’s probably moved on to a different zone by now.”
“Then we should look for it,” you say, standing up. All of your weight is on one leg.
“Ah,” Xavier ponders, rubbing his neck, “really? I thought we should maybe head back.”
“No need.” And what’s the plan here, exactly? You can’t walk. You definitely can’t fight. Maybe you can wait here while he— no. He’s never going to leave you. “I told you I’m ok.”
“But you’re not.”
“I am,” you assert. You’re determined to convince him and your own, useless body. It’s just a sprain. It is just a sprain. You take a step forwards and stumble, your bad leg crumpling beneath you.
Xavier catches you, strong and solid, and he's holding you like you’re something delicate. He sets you down on the rock again. The pain is making your vision swim.
“You’re hurt,” he reasons gently, even though the truth of it is a knife that’s twisting in your heart. He seems to sense your reluctance: “There’s no shame in admitting that. It happens. Let’s go back.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m slowing you down, Xavier!” you gush. Your heart is split open and it has to bleed somewhere. “You have no idea what it’s like… being your partner.”
He’s looking at you with so much guilt and gods, you wish that somewhere was anywhere but his hands. “What do you mean?” he asks on a shaky breath.  
“I love working with you.” Soften the blow. “I love being with you, but you don’t need me. You’re this incredible hunter. This figure of legend, of everyone’s stories. You can do so much on your own and I just don’t know how to keep up. I mean, look at me— I can’t.”
You feel sick. Empty. “You shouldn’t have to hang back for me,” you finish limply. “You’re you, Xavier. You can fight like a hundred Wanderers and still come out unscathed.”
The blue of Xavier’s eyes has grown understandably more turbulent, though it settles a little. He seems to relax. “Yeah… about that,” he mumbles hesitantly.
He turns around and your mouth drops. A savage cut drapes like a crimson sash down his back, splitting the white of his uniform. It’s not deep enough to be fatal, but it’s not good, either.
“Wha— Xavier!” you exclaim, trying to surge forwards, but your pain keeps you rooted. “You said you were ok!”
“So did you,” he frowns, bewildered. “Can we get out of—”
“Yeah, yeah.” You let him take your arm and help you to your feet.
He leads you through the clearing and into the forest, supporting your weight as you hop along beside him. There’s a murmur about how he should carry you, but you’re quick to reassure him he’s doing enough. You’re both hurting; you both just need to survive the short walk out of the no-hunt zone, where a med team can take over.
“You don’t slow me down, you know,” Xavier says quietly, after a minute of silence. “You’re the reason I can keep going.”
You squeeze his arm affectionately, mustering a smile even though you’re nauseous with pain and the idea that he’s been dwelling on your speech this whole time. “Well,” you chuckle through gritted teeth, “you’re gonna have to learn how to get by without me.”
“Huh?” He gives you a curious look.
You glance down at your leg. “Zayne’s gonna kill me...”
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Zayne ❄
“I’m a doctor.”
You stop what you’re doing to fix Zayne with a questioning stare. “Ok…?”
“I’ve published dozens of research papers. Pioneered new surgical techniques. My work on Evol-based regenerative properties still has lasting implications for my field, and I’ve the accolades to show for it. The Starcatcher Award. The Linde Award, too— I was the youngest ever recipient.”
None of this is news to you, and you can’t help chuckling at this change in your usually-humble physician. You humour him: “The youngest ever recipient, huh?” There’s a crack as you split an egg on the side of the bowl in front of you. “That’s very impressive.”
“Is it?”
Zayne stands from his seat at your kitchen table: you hear the chair draw back. You feel his presence arrive behind you as you continue to stir your soon-to-be cookie dough. “Yeah,” you lilt with a smile.
“Really?” he pushes again, and his arms wrap around you as he bends to speak into your ear. “Because someone seems to think I can’t even recognise a—” he nips at it— “sprained ankle.”
His breath is warm on your neck and you let out a giggle. “Keep speaking to me like that and these cookies are never making it into the oven. Or your stomach.”
The man relents. He releases you, not returning to his seat but opting to lean against the kitchen counter instead. You glance up at him; he stares back, waiting for an actual answer.
“My ankle is fine, Zayne.”
There’s a sigh as he crosses his arms.
“It is,” you insist, even though you did sprain your ankle at work today, it does hurt like hell, and you do just want to sit down. You reach for the flour you’d measured out previously, tipping it into the larger bowl. “If it wasn’t, would I really be here— making you cookies?”
“Yes,” he says plainly.
“You’re delusional.”
“Ok.”  
Well, that was a little too easy. Don’t overthink it, and definitely don’t read into the fact that he’s standing there oh-so-smugly, like he knows something you don’t. You finish stirring the flour into the mixture, then add the last of the ingredients. Just a pinch of salt, and then…
Where did you put the chocolate chips? You glance about yourself but they’re nowhere in sight. “Hey, Zayne? Have you seen the—”
“This cupboard,” he indicates with an upwards nod of his head. His eyes are relentless. “Top shelf.”
Ah. That’s ok. You’ve totally got this. You move beneath the cupboard, opening it and gazing up into the contents. You can see the pack of chocolate chips. You can get up there somehow, right?
“Would you like me to—” Zayne starts, but you cut him off:
“Nope.” You put your hands on your hips. “Please— if I can climb the back of an alive, awake, and very angry deluge wyrmlord to put a sword through its skull, I think I can make it onto the kitchen counter in one piece. Lemme just…”
Your knee lifts. You make it about a centimetre from the floor before Zayne’s hands are on your waist, grounding you. “Stop,” he instructs, and it's not a tone that allows for any rebuttal. Satisfied by your silence, he brings the chocolate chips down to you.
“Thanks,” you say quietly as they’re placed on the counter.
“You’re welcome."
Sheepishly, you spill a generous amount of chocolate chips into the cookie mixture. Your throat hurts in the way that keeps you from saying anything more. You already feel like an idiot, and your eyes are watering, threatening to make you look like even more of one.
Zayne’s hand appears in front of you, hovering over the bowl. You laugh in understanding: giving the half-empty bag another shake so chocolate chips fall into his palm.
“You… don’t have to explain yourself,” he says as he lifts them to his mouth. His next words are muffled: “But you can tell me anything, my love. I never want you to feel as though you can’t.”
You chuckle again; you can’t help yourself. Look at him: your oh-so-serious doctor shovelling chocolate into his mouth. He raises an eyebrow at you, his lips still on his palm.
“I know I can tell you anything,” you smile, the ache in your throat receding, however much the rest of you hurts. “I did sprain my ankle. It’s not that I wanted to hide it from you, it’s just—” you stop stirring the mixture— “it’s just that your whole life is taking care of people at the hospital. You should get a break from it. You should get to be Zayne, here… at home. Just Zayne, not Doctor Zayne.”
Zayne’s hazel eyes have taken on a hue of regret. He pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, buying himself a few seconds as he contemplates. “Are you a doctor?” he asks after a moment.
“No?”
“And yet, here you are, taking care of me.” He reaches for the abandoned packet of chocolate chips. “Tell me, does it feel like work to you?”
“Yeah,” you tease, drawing the packet away from his stretching fingers in explanation; you’re both grinning.
“Well, it never feels like work to me. Just Zayne likes taking care of you. And right now? He wants to bundle you up on the sofa and finish these cookies for you.”
You purse your lips: that’s some dubious wording. “Zayne, hell will freeze over before I leave you and this cookie dough unsupervised.”
He shushes you, pulling on the cord of your apron until the bow at your back comes loose. Before you can protest, he’s wearing the apron himself.
“Zayne, I’m not kidding. I know what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna get rid of me, and then you’ll—”
“Shh,” he coos again, whisking you carefully off your feet, because it’s time for a taste of your own medicine. “You’re delusional.”
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Rafayel 🔥
“Mmhmm. Mmhmm.”
“Raf, who are you—”
He holds out a finger to shush you. “Mmhmm.”
You cross your arms impatiently. Who is he even talking to, anyway? His lilac eyes are locked on you as he continues humming away, apparently very invested in whatever the person on the phone is saying; you’ve never seen him go this long without talking.
He narrows his eyes at you. You narrow your eyes right back.
All around you, guests of the exhibition are milling about, all dressed to the nines and minding their business, however much they want the attention of the man in front of you. A few of them linger as they pass him, like they want to say something, like they’re going to say something…
But they don’t.
It’s a wonder that Rafayel stands out in the crowd as much as he does. You’d seamlessly located him, back from your third trip to the bathroom to check on the bandages you’ve managed to conceal beneath this dress. He’s still holding your purse for you, his phone in his other hand, except—
That’s your phone. That’s your phone! “Rafayel!”
He shushes you again. “I understand,” he says solemnly, notably not to you, “thanks for letting me know.” The call is ended. He takes a deep, collected breath, then looks at you. “I knew it!”
“Knew what? Who was that?”
“Zayne.”
“You called Zayne?”
“Like I had a choice!” Rafayel retaliates. It is true; he’s spent the entire evening trying to get you to admit something was wrong, and you had no intention of giving him that pleasure. “You’re supposed to be in the hospital! What kind of idiot breaks out of the hospital?”
The lack of irony in the question almost breaks you. “Umm… you?! Like every other week?!”
He shrugs. “That’s different.”
“Rafayel, I swear, I’m gonna— ah!” you gasp in pain. You’d stepped forwards too quickly— maybe to strangle him, but that’s neither here nor there— and the wound on your side is clearly on his side. It stings like hell: punishing you, and you know the pain is self-inflicted.
Rafayel frowns in concern, maybe even guilt, and that’s why you didn’t tell him. “C’mon, we should go,” he insists gravely.
“It’s fine, Raf. It doesn’t even—”
“Stop lying! You said you wouldn’t hide stuff like this from me. You promised, remember?”
You’re losing track of all the promises you’ve made to the Lemurian, but you do remember that one. Guilt has its teeth in you, too. “I know,” you grumble, “I’m sorry, ok? I just knew—”
“What?”
“That you’d act like this! You’ve been working on this exhibition for months, Raf. Tonight is supposed to be about you. Not me— you. And I want it to stay that way. Everyone’s here to celebrate you and your work, and that’s how it should be. That’s what I want. To support you. To be here for you.”
Your voice has gone timid. You finish meekly: “Can’t you let me do this for you? Please?”
Rafayel’s eyes are wide and still the prettiest things you’ve ever seen, even in a room full of masterpieces and jewels you could never afford. They shine with uncertainty, but soften as he smiles, full of fondness and affection. “That’s sweet. But also? Really dumb.”
“Raf—”
“The only— and I mean only— reason I’m here tonight is because you are. I don’t care about what anyone thinks about me or my paintings. Just you. And you can see this?” He gestures around the gallery. “Anytime. My life’s your private exhibition, cutie. Exclusive access, 24/7, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
He steps closer to you: close enough that he can see the tear that’s made it halfway down your cheek. He wipes it away with a chuckle. “Plus,” he adds, “I know you know I’m amazing. You don’t need these old sourpusses to tell you that, do you?”
You laugh tentatively. “No, I don’t.”
Your injury protests as you use the lapels on Rafayel’s blazer to pull him closer; you have to stand on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He’s still grinning as he draws away, a light blush on his cheeks, but the sweetness of the moment vanishes as his gaze drifts lower.
“My eyes are up here, Rafayel.”
“Yeah…” he concedes mindlessly, but then he points: “you know you’re like, bleeding, right?”
You glance downwards to where the red of your dress is turning darker. There’s just a small splotch, but it’s growing. Shit. You must have reopened the wound.
“Thomas?” you hear Rafayel call, and then he’s stuffing a silk handkerchief into your hands— helping you apply pressure. “We have to get out of here,” he explains as a figure joins you.
His agent folds his arms; this is not dissimilar to stunts you and Rafayel have pulled before. “Fake blood, guys? Really?” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You can’t leave, Rafayel. I can just see the headlines tomorrow…”
“Dashing artist selflessly flees exhibition to save devoted bodyguard,” Rafayel concurs with a nod.
Thomas groans. “That’s not what they’re going to—”
“Help me out with this, cutie?”
“Yes, sir,” you mock salute.
A moment later, Rafayel has scooped you up into his arms. Your hero; he gives you a conspiratorial wink before glancing about frantically. “Quickly!” he cries out. “Everyone out of the way, please!”
“For the love of—” Thomas starts.
“Oh, gods!” you shout in agony. “It hurts. It hurts!”
Heads turn. Cameras flash.
Tomorrow morning, half of Linkon will be talking about one of their favourite celebrities and his long-envied bodyguard. A news article will pop-up on her doctor’s phone, and he’ll see the pictures and sigh.
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Sylus 🩸
“It’s not too late to back down, sweetie,” Sylus sneers.
“Aw, but you got all dressed up for the occasion.”
Your eyes rake over the outline of the man’s abs, courtesy of the tank top he’s wearing, and it does take the sting out of the fact that he’ll be trying to hit you. He holds his wrapped hands before him, ready to defend, ready to attack. He’ll probably attack, right?
“Last chance,” he growls.
“Is it, though?” This is the third ‘last chance’ you’ve been given in the five minutes you’ve been teetering on combat. You beckon him with a curl of your fingers. “Come on, Sylus. This is getting old.”
He scoffs: “How do you think I feel?”
“Like you’re about to get your ass kicked?”
“Alright, enough.” His hands drop and it feels like you’re back at the academy, about to be scolded for not taking something seriously. Sylus turns his back on you. Moves to the edge of the boxing ring so he can retrieve a stool from outside of it and sit down in a huff. He starts peeling the wraps from his knuckles, and— wait, is he mad? Like, actually mad?
“What’s wrong, Sy?”
He laughs as though you’re missing something dreadfully obvious. Maybe irony.
“Sylus?”
“You really are heartless, sweetie. You know that?”
The words steal your breath away, if only for a moment. Yours is a relationship of pulled punches, but he won’t meet your gaze and that one was real, wasn’t it? He wanted it to sting. “Why—”
“I could have hurt you,” he snaps, his dishevelled, snowy hair falling to cover his eyes. His discarded wraps slide from his hands, pooling by his feet like blood. “You were going to let me hurt you.”
He looks at you, finally, but it’s not in the way you want. His gaze is cast low, trailing over your body and making you feel every bruise, every closed cut that wants to reopen and every ache, rooted almost to bone. You’d done your best to hide it, even going so far as to press make-up hastily over your purpled skin.
That Wanderer really did a number on you yesterday.  
“You should have told me,” Sylus says, since you’ve made it onto the same page. “Honestly, kitten. Why would you—”
“Because Luke and Kieran told me, ok?”
Oh, they’re going to kill you. It was supposed to be a secret, and here you are, spilling like a fresh wound because you can’t stand the thought of Sylus being upset with you. You step closer, scrambling to dissect what you’ve done right in front of his eyes— holding it out to him: this is why. This is why. “They said you had a rough week. Some deals of yours had fallen through or something. And I’ve been too busy. I haven’t called, I haven’t even texted, and…”
You need him to understand, but the truth is a mess in your hands and how do you even start to explain it to him?
“You wanted to do something for me,” he finishes for you, and you don’t have to explain a thing.
“Yeah…” you confirm, bittersweet and still sad. “You do so much for me, Sylus. I just wanted to do what you wanted, for a change.”
Maybe it’s a round of boxing. Maybe it’s a dozen illicit dealings where he needs you to play enforcer— it doesn’t matter. As long as he’s happy.
“Come here,” he orders gently.
You close the rest of the rift between you, letting him reach for you and pull you closer. His knees have spread so you can slot against him, and his arms circle around you— trapping you— as he nuzzles into the warmth of your stomach.
“I’m sorry I called you heartless,” he speaks into you, his voice muffled as he gives you a chaste kiss. He then cranes his head upwards, resting his chin against you so he can profess more clearly: “I do worry about you, kitten.”
“I know—” your hands move to his head— “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have lied to you.”
“Mmm,” he hums in accordance, maybe even forgiveness, and his eyes close as your fingers card through the soft of his hair. “I lied too.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he confesses on a contented sigh. “I didn’t want to spend today… boxing.”
“What do you want to do today, Sy?”
His eyes flicker open and his hands find your hips. “What I really want…” he contemplates, as his thumbs slip under the hem of your shirt to rub circles on your skin, “is to take care of you.”
There are lifetimes of need in his gaze.
“Won’t you let me take care of you, sweetie?”
“If he finds the terms so disagreeable, then he’s more than welcome to take his business elsewhere. Although—” Sylus’s voice is cold— “he might find his other options less… amenable than when he saw them last. Less communicative, too. You can tell him I said so.”
He ends the phone call. Smiles. “Sorry about that, sweetie.”
“Are the boys ok?”
The smile widens, even though you can’t see it. “They’re fine.”
Phone set aside, Sylus carries on with the important business Kieran’s call had distracted him from. You’re half asleep, your head in his lap as he brushes your hair: rose-scented and soft from the bath he’d drawn for you, hours ago. Every bandage is fresh and clean. Every ache has been dulled with a lazy massage and more chaste kisses, for good measure.
“Perfect day,” you mumble blissfully.
“Perfect day,” Sylus agrees.
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cutieln4 · 3 months ago
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Let’s Fall In Love For The Night | LN4
lando norris x reader
summary: you fell in love with him on vacation, he tells you he’s not looking for a relationship. he’s in denial.
written + smau
As a uni student with an internship, you had absolutely no time, and money was sparse. So it's been years since you've had a break. But, after saving money from your summer job, and a lot of convincing from your friends, you were finally going on vacation.  
On the second day, you were attempting to play volleyball on the beach. However, it wasn't going so well. 
"I got it!" you yelled, frantically running with your eyes on the ball in the air. 
You weren't expecting to run into someone, causing you to fall back, the volleyball landing a few meters away.
"Oh— I am so so sorry," a British voice apologized. 
And when you looked up at him, your breath got taken away. He towered over you, tan skin and dark curls falling onto his forehead. You tried not to focus too hard on his abs as you scanned your eyes over him.
Once you snapped out of your trance, you grabbed his outstretched hand and hoped he hadn't caught you staring at him. 
"Sorry, I should've been more careful," you brushed his apology off. 
"No, no, it was my fault. I'm Lando, by the way."
"Y/n," you replied.
"Well, Y/n, why don't you let me make it up to you?"
 "What did you have in mind?" you asked, a small smile gracing your lips.
"How about we grab some smoothies together after your game?" he suggested. 
You agreed, and he told you where he would be waiting.
"I'll find you when we're done."
"Perfect, it's a date," he winked, and then he was gone. 
Wide-eyed, you walked back to your friends, who squealed with glee when they heard about your plans. You hadn't been on a date in over two years, after all. 
yourusername
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yourusername sunkissed😚 (i’m completely burnt)
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friend1 girl we told you to put on sunscreen
friend2 BODY IS TEAAA💅💅
friend3 right yeah just skip over the SUPER ROMANTIC sunset beach picnic…right…
yourusername shh🤫
friend4 my baby is all grown up🥺
yourusername i talk to ONE guy
friend5 come back i miss youuuu
After that day, you started seeing Lando every day. You would go out into the town together, go to the club together, walk on the beach during sunset together, and your feelings were suddenly becoming very real. 
And then you kissed. When your lips connected, it felt like everything going on in the background dulled and it was just you and him, alone on the beach. It felt like nothing else in the world mattered as long as you were with him. His lips were addicting, and you couldn't get enough. 
You got to know Lando at such a personal level. You connected with him like you hadn't connected with anyone else before. You told him things you've never told anyone else. You squeezed a whole relationship into the 3 weeks that you were there. It felt perfect. 
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~~~~~~~~~~
landonorris
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landonorris rested and recharged😊
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user1 THE POSE
user2 bro did NOT set that picnic up himself
user3 THE PICNIC HELLO??? thats so cuteeee
user4 now who did he eat that with🤨
user5 we lost a good one y’all😔
user6 NOOOO THAT SHOULD BE ME!!!
user7 come home the kids miss you
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~~~~~~~~~~
Lando had never met someone like Y/n before. She was funny, kind, smart, and had a smile that made his stomach flutter. The way he instantly connected with her, it was like they were made for each other. She didn't even know who he was, she just liked him for him. 
But it was too good to be true. You were in your last year of Uni, and the last thing you probably wanted was a serious relationship. He assumed you wanted to live your life after this, and wanted nothing to do with him. 
It was just a little fling, that's all. So he dreaded when he would have to leave. 
"Hey, we should talk," he told you as you lay next to each other on the beach. 
"Sure, what's up?"
"My flight to go home is tomorrow. And I'm sure you're not looking for a relationship right now, and neither am I to be honest. But, I had a really good time hanging out with you."
He didn't see the way that your face dropped. "Oh, right. Yeah. Yeah. It was just a bit of fun, I guess."
It went silent after that and unbeknownst to each other, they both had knots in their stomachs.
Early the next morning, Lando was on a flight home, and Y/n went home the next day, completely heartbroken.
Lando sat on the jet with Max Fewtrell across from him, his head leaning against the window as he stared longingly at the ocean below.
"So, did you get Y/n's number? You seemed to really hit it off," Max commented
Lando sighed deeply, tearing his gaze from the window as he shook his head.
"No, I told her I wasn't looking for a relationship."
"And is that true?"
"No, I actually really liked her," he admitted, avoiding eye contact as he picked at his fingernails.
"Knobhead."
Lando stared at Max with his mouth agape and eyes wide.
"Did you get her Instagram at least?"
"No."
"How about her last name?"
Lando shook his head.
"Fucking idiot," Max sighed.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'll get over her."
~~~~~~~~~~
"Wait, wait, tell me again what he said?" Y/n's friend asked in the hotel room.
"He assumed I didn't want a relationship and then he said that he didn't want a relationship either. So that was it. It's done."
"What a dickhead," Y/n's other friend commented, sighing.
"Yep, well, that's what I get for talking to men."
"Maybe you can clear things up? I assume you have his number or Instagram or something?"
"No, I don't," Y/n replied.
"Maybe we can look him up, what's his last name?"
"Um, I don't know."
"You're kidding right?" Y/n's friend said, groaning loudly at her stupidness.
"It's fine. It was just a little fling," Y/n dismissed.
"You were literally gushing about him on Twitter and saying that you thought you loved him."
"I don't want to talk about it, okay?"
When she got home, she spent two days just rotting in her bed, mascara stained on her cheeks.
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~~~~~~~~~~
The season continued for Lando, and he thought he would be able to forget about you quickly, but he was wrong.
All he could think about was your striking eyes, your infectious laugh, and your contagious smile. He closed his eyes all all he saw was your face.
He was sure that you were haunting him.
5 races later, his distracted behavior was getting noticeable.
"-Lando, Lando?"
He suddenly snapped out of his trance, realizing that his engineer was trying to get his attention during the debriefing.
"Sorry, what?"
"Are you feeling okay, Lando?"
"I'm fine, I'm fine. What were you saying?"
Oscar gave him a look from across the room, but he just shook his head. Afterward, as he walked back to his driver's room, he opened his phone to look at a picture of you.
He had taken it while you weren't looking. Your head was tilted back in laughter, your eyes bright and cheerful. You looked like the most beautiful woman to ever exist.
"Who's that?" Oscar asked from beside him, and Lando jumped at his unexpected arrival.
"Jeez, warn a guy next time. It's no one."
"If it's no one then why are you always staring at her?"
Lando glared at him.
"Look, I met her during summer break, I blew it and told her I didn't want a relationship when it was a lie, but I don't have any of her contact info and I only know her first name."
"Surely you can find her somehow? Or she can find you? You are famous, after all."
Lando stopped walking suddenly, a smile forming on his face.
"You're a genius, thanks Oscar!" he yelled as he sprinted to his driver's room.
landonorris
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landonorris ATTENTION PLEASE!! HELP NEEDED!! I am in desperate need to find this girl! Whoever can find her will receive nothing but please help me!!!!!
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username1 wtf is happening...
username2 this gotta be the girl from the picnic during summer break
username3 no shit sherlock
username4 this is not very demure...
username5 not cutesy at all...
username6 OMG SHES SO CUTE AND PRETTY
username7 need me a man that will scour the internet to find me
username8 so is this considered a hard launch?
username9 well now i gotta know the story cause i'm a nosy bitch
username10 wait i recognize her! i think she's a friend of my friend hold on
username10 here's her instagram @.yourusername
Lando had her Instagram within 10 minutes. He thought of just messaging her, but he really needed to get his message across.
So, with a quick google search, he was able to find her address.
He went straight from the track to the airport.
~~~~~~~~~~
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You opened your Instagram to find thousands of new followers, hundreds of messages, and a bunch of mentions in comments.
Furrowing your eyebrows in extreme confusion, you clicked on the notification and it brought you to a post...with your face on it.
Getting even more confused, you checked the username. Lando Norris.
No fucking way.
You clicked on her profile, and it was really him. And turns out he was a famous, millionaire, Formula 1 driver.
What the actual fuck. And why was he trying to find you? Last you heard he wasn't interested in a relationship...not that you were still bitter or anything.
Shit, you couldn't do anything now, you had Uni to get to. You quickly got ready, grabbing your back and walking toward your car.
"Wait! Y/n!"
A shout of your name immediately grabbed your attention, and you turned around.
There he was, just as beautiful as he was two months ago. The air left your lungs as you took in his appearance. He was actually here.
"Lando. You're here."
"Yeah. Have you been on your phone today."
You nodded.
"Sorry for posting you, I was just so desperate to find you. I know I said I wasn't looking for a relationship but I just said that because that's what I thought you wanted and I'm really really sorry about that but I've been so miserable without you and—"
You cut him off, wrapping your hand around his neck and pulling him into a kiss.
"You are such a fool," you told him.
"I know," he sighed in relief, a wide smile on his face.
"Anyway, how did you find my address?"
"Google."
"And you couldn't just message me when you found my Instagram?"
"I had to get my point across."
You chuckled, pulling him into another kiss.
"As much as I'd love to stay here and kiss you more, I have to get to class."
"Right, I'll uh... get a hotel or something."
"You can stay in my flat, loser," you laughed, tossing him the keys.
yourusername added to their story
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friend1 i'm so happy for you babe
landonorris i like the papaya hearts ;)
username1 NO WAY HE FLEW ALL THE WAY FROM AUSTIN TO SEE YOU
landonorris
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landonorris I found you, my love🧡
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maxfewtrell finally mate
username1 YAYY WE DID IT
username2 con😭grat😭ul😭ations😭
username3 they’re so cute wtf
username4 i’m sleeping on the highway tonight
yourusername you’re the best thing that’s happened to me🫶💕
username5 bro i need to know the whole story
username6 the pictures are so aesthetic omg
username7 now THIS is demure
username8 very cutesy
—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—
Add yourself to my taglist!
all works taglist: @evasmlp @partnerincrime0
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olivianyx · 7 months ago
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GET YOUR DREAM LIFE: A CHALLENGE
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Welcome to this challenge, babygirls and babyboys 🗣️🗣️🗣️
So are you ready to manifest everything you desired in April? Then start up rn!
I'll show you 5 important, simple steps you can use to manifest your dream life!
This challenge will be done for 30 days throughout April. At the end of this month, the results are guaranteed!
You might be wondering if its gonna be hard... Buuuut! The steps are super duper simple, just follow them!
THE STEPS:
🤍 MENTAL DIET 🤍
Y'all heard it right, maintain a strict mental diet, like literally stop wavering! Stop focusing on things you don't want! Don't accept things you don't want! It's that simple. Only focus on positive and favourable thoughts.
Your mornings should go like, 'uhh it's such a beautiful day. It's gonna be amazing day as always. But it's gonna be fun today! I literally love this life, it's freaking amazing, I literally don't know how to thank myself for this. The fact that I'm the ultimate creator is soo mind blowing for me even though I've always been for my entire life. I'm literally thankful for everything! My life's being too perfect and I get what I want everytime, everything's in my favour always. I literally look soo amazing in every outfit I wear, it's such a slay everyday. Uhh I'm soo lucky to have what I want. Literally my self concept is supreme' and blah blah blah. You can add whatever you want further lol.
So like literally throughout the day steady yourself in this mindset. If you catch yourself wavering, be like *sike there ain't no chance bitch* come back on track! Catch yourself waver ---> stop ---> drop ---> flip it into something positive or favourable.
Literally robotic affirming is the only way you can keep your thoughts in check. So go bestie! Keep your head high, keep a check on those thoughts inside your pretty/handsome head 😩 keep slaying everyday ✨
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🤍 ROBOTIC AFFIRMING 🤍
Keep affirming babygirls and babyboys! Like literally don't even stop (unless you're doing smth important, then stop affirming for a while lol) y'all got your dream lives already 💅 so why y'all telling yourself that you don't?? Well y'all do have it, so tell yourself the ULTIMATE FACT that you have your dream lives already 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️ tell yourself whenever you're free, like even doing your daily chores such as taking a shit or shower, or brushing your teeth, eating, scrolling through the phone, or walking, waiting in a queue (I'd never wait in a queue... Cus I don't go to places with long ass annoying queues 😭) or listening to music or watching TV, doing the dishes or doing self care (I love my babygirls and babyboys taking care of themselves like there's no tomorrow 😩✋🏻I'mma give y'all a nice smooch 😚) just do it my babies! It's the ultimate way to get (which you already have it) your dream lives! So get tf up babies! 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️
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🤍 LIVING IN THE END 🤍
This step shouldn't be missed at all babies! So focus on the end! Focus on having it! Focus on thinking from the end! Like you already are living yor dream lives, you have that car you wanted cus you already drive it everyday! You have that sp that loves you till death, that spoils you with their love, money, and what not?! You have that house you've been dreaming of! No, I mean living! You're living in that house already! It's yours my love! You got that perfect sculptured summer body ody that the normal human beings are jealous?? Like you have that body effortlessly 😩✋🏻 FOCUS ON HAVING IT BITCHES 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️
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🤍 USING SLEEP TO YOUR ADVANTAGE! 🤍
Listen here, my babygirls and babyboys! You sleep 7 to 8 hours a day, and sleep, according to medicals, is a state of complete rest. That means you're not aware of your surroundings. You're just being a black, quiet, space like floaty state (the void actually) so things are easier to manifest Instantly in this state! So why not do psych k or sats or the lullaby method before bed and after you wake up my loves?? It's so much more effective that what you do in the day time! Trust me! Go prepare yourself well for the bed babies 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️
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🤍 PERSISTENCE 🤍
Since you already affirming that you have your dream lives, you have it already! But you can begin to doubt that why is it not in the 3d... BITCH DON'T EVEN THINK LIKE THAT. Be like 'bitch wtf my life literally feels like a dream come true moment everyday 😭😭 like I'm literally living the life I wanted, I already am experiencing it wtf are you talking about' like literally GASLIGHT YOURSELF INTO THINKING LIKE THAT (cus you already have your dream life) like literally decide that you already have! Hold onto the new story no matter what! 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️
So ig I've told you what you needed to do... So all you gotta do is follow the fucking steps babies 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️
Okay, take care, love y'all babies! Byeee
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- olivia 🤍
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sobredunia · 2 years ago
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In-universe Daya has come to get revenge
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OH NO I'M BRITISH
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aemcndtargaryen · 2 years ago
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SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP THIS IS EVERYTHING I COULD'VE EVER WISHED FOR IN A LANNISTER!READER FIC
I stayed up till 3am binging all the available chapters and I got so sad when there was no more😭 imagine my surprise and delight when I saw that update today😍
I literally love everything about this, like no joke it's not even finished yet but it's already got a spot on my ultimate faves list
such a great idea, but what's even better is that your execution of it is just chefs kiss so so gooooood
your writing is phenomenal, and the way you portray the characters and relationships? immaculate
and lannister!reader? the baddest bitch of all, I love her your honour🥺 tywin would be proud👏🏻
I love that she's so ambitious and calculating and knows how to play the game, but at the same time her feelings for aemond and helae are all there and genuine, it's a fine line and you walk it so beautifully💜
some of my fav bits off the top of my head after that binge:
- reader immediately going like 'I want him' at aemond even before they met
- alllllll reader x aemond interactions let's be real
- like their first meeting
- at the dragon pit, reader outsmarting the bullies and comforting aemond afterwards
- reader and helaes friendship, they are truly sisters in all but blood🤧 and I love how protective reader is of helae/all her loved ones
- the green boys, you write them and their relationship so well and it comes off so organic
- THE FACT YOU INCLUDED DAERON
- aegon always calling reader My shining Lady of Lannister
- both aegon and daeron being onto aemond's feelings for reader and never missing a chance to tease him about it
- just The Incident and everything that came after it
- reader sneaking into aemonds room, GIFTING HIM THE SAPPHIRE, TELLING HIM HELL BE REMEMBERED UNLIKE THOSE THAT DID THIS TO HIM AND HOW A LANNISTER ALWAYS PAYS THEIR DEBTS AND SHE'S GONNA BE THERE HELPING HIM GET WHAT HE'S OWED AND THE FORHEAD TOUCH
- when reader gets back to the keep after that 6 months absence and puts those ladies in their place like the bad bitch she is
- reader and aemond scheming together in the library, they aren't even together yet and they are already the Power Couple of KL
- the tourney? HOLDING HANDS🥺🤧 AND AEMOND HOLDING ONTO HER HAND UNTIL THE VERY LAST MOMENT BEFORE HE'S FORCED TO LET GO AND EVERYONE SEEING
- and then turning that death stare on victor and VHAGAR ROARING IN THE DISTANCE
- AND READERS SMILE AT THAT
- none of the Greens clapping when Victor crowns reader
- loved the tyland/jason/reader interaction afterwards, big fan of tyland and readers rs in general too and also how secure reader is in the knowledge that despite his faults her dad does love his kids and would stand up and protect them *unlike other people we know😒*
- reader lowkey gushing to tyland and jason about aemond in the carriage when they question whether he'd actually act on his anger, she's so smitten I love it🥺
- reader thinking she hopes viserys will cough up a lung😂 it's what he deserves 💅
- reader and alicents talk in ch8
- and like EVERYTHING THAT CAME AFTER READER WENT TO FIND AEMOND AT THE TRAINING YARD
- THE HAND HOLDING, THE FAVOR, THE SAPPHIRE, THE KISS, THE FORHEAD TOUCH LIKE THAT NIGHT
- THE HE TORE UP THAT SCAR AND FILLED IT WITH YOU!!!!!! 😭🤧💜
- ser cristons chaperoning, someone give him a raise lol
- the, that was you as a boy, you're a man now, I only pity however will have to face you tmr
anyway that was probably very incoherent of me rn, and I'm definitely missing some other fav bits, but like, you get the idea I LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS
lannister!reader and aemond are trulyyy made for each other🥺😭🤧💜
PS. not sure if you're doing tag lists, but if you are sign me the fuck up plsssss I need to know when a new chapter drops asap🥺 in any case I'll be checking for any sort of update daily (more like several times a day lol)
jaimeslanisters' masterlist
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the pawn in every lover's game (lannister!reader x aemond targaryen)
When you’re ten, your father sends you to King's Landing to befriend a princess and woo a prince. A lioness growing up amongst dragons is a dangerous thing indeed.
parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight
ao3 link
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theflyingfeeling · 10 months ago
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ugh guess who was finally a brave little meow-meow and booked the flights to Berlin and back 😮‍💨
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zehecatl · 2 years ago
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DISTANT CRACKLING I CAN GET THREE WHOLE YS GAMES
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starlightervarda · 11 months ago
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I can't sleep so Star Trek TOS/SNW dashboard simulator
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🪆 chekovsgunman Follow
to this day I can't understand why they're called the Three Musketeers if there's FOUR of them? Did Dumas just forget his own main character???
🪴 plantdad Follow
You've got to be kidding me
🪆 chekovsgunman Follow
I know right? A mistake like this would never happen in Russian literature!
5,324 notes
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🩺 therealmccoy Follow
After months of taking care of everyone else on this giant tin can I really earned this shore leave. Now I get to drink, relax, flirt with some lovely ladies and sleep until noon 😎 Just what the the doctor ordered!
🩺 therealmccoy Follow
Update: A fucking purple tree ate five crewmen. Again.
955 notes
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🖖 iamspock Follow
Despite being among humans for close to a decade, I still find their tendency to overcomplicate and avoid aspects of social situations to be confusing at best and infuriating at worst. So much time is wasted on tedious matters such as who gets to 'make the first move' or 'not come off too strong'.
For example, everyone aboard my vessel is keenly aware of Lt. Uhura and Engineer Scott's 'budding romance'. But their need to extend their oddly avoidant courtship ritual, rather than outright state their interest in one another, is pointless, as well as frustrating to witness.
Why do they do this? Why not 'get it over with', as they say?
I encourage answers from all cultures, human or otherwise.
💅 janicethemenace Follow
I'm sorry Scotty and Nyota are WHAT
💉 xtinechapel Follow
DELETE THIS
💖 ofmanytongues Follow
SPOCK NOOO HE DOESN'T THINK OF ME LIKE THAT 😭
🔧 scott-free Follow
But I do! I thought you knew and were just being nice about it!
💖 ofmanytongues Follow
DMing you rn 😳
🖖 iamspock Follow
You're welcome.
24,103 notes
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🌟 j_tiberius_k Follow
PSA: If you visit Antares VII, stay clear of any yellow plants, their pollen can have some...inconvenient effects on the biology of humanoid peoples.
My XO and I suffered through troubling symptoms until it was almost too late. Thankfully, we figured out a cure in time.
🪴 plantdad Follow
I can only find info on the symptoms. What was the cure? 👀
🌟 j_tiberius_k Follow
Do I really have to say it?
6,322 notes
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💊 mmmbenga Follow
The galaxy if Klingons didn't exist
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⚔️ glorytotheempire Follow
Wow. Humans are openly advocating for our disappearance yet Klingons are the bad guys? I thought your federation stood for peace.
💊 mmmbenga Follow
Cry harder you genocidal wrinkly-faced bitch I hope your planet gets sucked into a black hole
#If you think a joke is on par with what they do then book an MRI because you might have brain damage #fuck Klingons and anyone that sympathizes with them
35,007 notes
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😎 ortegaaaas Follow
So I can either skim through this asteroid belt on Warp 2 for 3 hrs or on Warp 5 for 15 mins
🚀 mitchiemitch Follow
Erica no! That's not how navigation works!
😎 ortegaaaas Follow
FLOOR IT???
🚀 mitchiemitch Follow
ERICA NO
😎 ortegaaaas Follow
HOW ABOUT WARP 7 FOR 15 SECONDS?
💖 ofmanytongues Follow
ERICA YOU'RE GOING TO CRASH THE SHIP
😎 ortegaaaas Follow
I AM GOING TO HARNESS LIGHT-SPEED TO ZIGZAG THROUGH THE VOID
🚀 mitchiemitch
ERICA P L E A S E
112,517 notes
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🐴 sirsilverfox Follow
I know some species are very private, but you'd think they'd share the important stuff, esp when we should trust each other by now.
How are we supposed to enjoy my weekly dinners if you all don't tell me what to watch out for :/ This is the third time this happens to the same person and I had to get the answer why from our CMO
💫 numerouna Follow
Wait what did I miss while I was gone
🐴 sirsilverfox Follow
Spock got wasted on my chocolate fudge cake and hit his head on the counter ://///
2,904 notes
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