#kidnap Kingpin

[himbopunk]

considering modern au datv slightly and as much as id love the vibes of lucanis working in a coffee shop and hakim works at like, idk the same climbing gym across from them as harding and taash and neve being some kind of investagative journalist who always is at the shop writing i think depending on the tone itd more likely be a mob drama with lucanis being a mob boss kid or whatever, neve being a detective and hakim being an unrelated cat burglar or conman whos antics get the three of them all tied up in bullshit

[ferallantern]

can’t sleep so I’m reading ultimate spidey

[tracknews1]

Rivers CP honours officers for arresting notorious kidnap kingpin

The Rivers State Commissioner of Police, Mustapha Mohammed, has commended and rewarded two officers for their roles in apprehending a notorious kidnapper and recovering arms. The CP also singled out one of the officers for her efforts in foiling a dangerous criminal operation and recovering ₦2.4 million. The spokesperson of the State Police Command, Grace Iringe-Koko, disclosed this in a…

[notherpuppet]

Hmm what if a moonlighting hitman 🦌 kidnapped a baby-faced kingpin 🍎 ??

[zarameraki]

♡₊˚⚜️・₊✧ 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮'𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱'𝘀 𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 ♡₊˚⚜️・₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 mdni 𖥔 sukuna is a mafia kingpin 𖥔 teasing grumpy x sunshine 𖥔 pregnancy trope 𖥔 he'll burn the world for you 𖥔 "my wife" 𖥔 he's a great dad 𖥔 mentions of miscarriage 𖥔 mentions of physical and sexual assault 𖥔 mention of parental death 𖥔 major fluff 𖥔 sexual content 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 he loves eating you out 𖥔 anal play (yup.) 𖥔 last warning: mdni!

: ̗̀➛ words: 6.0k

: ̗̀➛ notes: no bc i love you all so much. it's insane how much you guys have supported my toji fanfic & and my nanami fanfic. i'll def be writing a part two to both of those masterpieces (yes i have self-confidence). as someone who's always imagined sukuna as a mafia leader, i decided to say fuck it and write it. please leave a comment, like, and reblog! thank you & ily. enjoy! (p.s. pregnancy trope>>>)

You never thought you'd be married to Sukuna Ryomen, let alone carrying his kid again. Yet, four years deep into this forced marital mess, thanks to your father owing a hefty debt to the kingpin of the underworld crime syndicate, here you were.

“Look at you, Mrs. Ryomen, radiant as ever!” chirped one of your husband’s associate's wives. You had studied a name list last night, but it all escaped your memory after you passed out from sheer exhaustion.

Sukuna wasn’t keeping a hawk's eye on you like he used to when you first stepped into the public eye. Gone were the days of his glares if you messed up a name. Never once had he laid a finger on you at home, despite your assumption that forgetfulness would earn you a beating.

“Thank you." You forced a smile at the woman, your patience waning as the mayor's birthday party stretched on. It was almost the end of the night, and your feet were protesting from traipsing around in flats. All you craved at that moment was your bed, pronto.

The woman and her husband attempted to capture Sukuna's lukewarm attention through political discussions and expressing gratitude for the illegal artillery shipments from your husband's syndicate. They made no effort to acknowledge your existence by his side.

Your hand rested on your belly, a mere eight months into your pregnancy—a new personal record. The first time you conceived, Sukuna demanded an heir, and you willingly agreed, knowing that the child would provide some distraction in the expansive estate that felt like a cage. Unfortunately, at the two-month mark, you experienced a miscarriage.

Feeling Sukuna's knuckles lightly tapping your back, you straightened your posture momentarily, only to slouch again almost instantly. It was futile. The discomfort of your swollen and cramped belly made it nearly impossible to maintain a poised demeanor in the midst of the party.

Disobeying Sukuna meant facing inevitable death, a fact well understood in his dangerous domain, and you had never dared to challenge that.

"Let's go," Sukuna said, cutting through the incessant chatter of the couple. He didn't grasp your hand, only your fragile wrist, a gesture you didn't mind. Yours was not a typical love; he, Sukuna Ryomen, a most feared monster in the criminal underworld, and you, a sacrificial lamb, a trophy collected three years ago, a means to his heir.

"I'm sorry," you whispered as you exited the venue, heading towards the limousine surrounded by fifteen armed guards under Sukuna's command. "I'm so sorry—"

"Get in the car." He held the door open for you, signaling his guards to disperse and take their positions in the Jeeps parked behind.

Silencing yourself, you cautiously settled into the back seat, and Sukuna joined you, slamming the door with force. His anger was discernible, and the memory of that night, losing your second unborn child to a kidnapping, plagued your dreams. You were uncertain if the nightmares were about Sukuna's wrath upon finding you or the horrors his enemies inflicted on you during your 48-hour captivity.

Sukuna noticed your struggle with the seatbelt and contorted his body toward you. Your fingers released their grip on the belt, allowing him to pull it taut and secure it snugly around your midsection. Click. He withdrew, distancing himself from your face that had been mere inches away.

“Tedious fucking party, anyway,” Sukuna grumbled, his left ankle casually perched on his right kneecap. He always adopted a specific posture, his elbow leaning against something, cheek resting on his knuckles, and his narrow eyes a rich brown that could almost pass for a deep shade of red. He exuded an unrelenting air of intimidation.

"I agree," you unintentionally voiced your thoughts, earning a sidelong glance from him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

His attention barely lingered on you as the car roared to life. You breathed a sigh of relief, stretching out your legs and leaning your head back against the seat's shoulder. Your palm absentmindedly traced circles on your belly. Goosebumps peppered your skin from the frigidness in the car, stirring an involuntary shudder.

"Turn on the heater," Sukuna ordered the driver in his smooth, languid baritone.

"Yes, sir."

As warmth gradually surrounded the backseat, you hummed a small "Thank you" and closed your eyes, enjoying a few moments of peace.

Disorientation clouded your senses, and you dispelled it by rubbing your eyes and using your knuckles to prop yourself against the headboard. A couple of contractions ripped through your gut, causing you to groan and hiss through gritted teeth.

The enormous room was devoid of Sukuna, its black silk sheets hinting at the luxury covering you. The fireplace casted a warm glow, and a soft, dim golden light spilled from the lamp onto the floor.

In the first year of your marriage and pregnancy, your bedroom was located three doors away. You were tended to by on-site nurses and doctors, surrounded by an entourage of maids for company. Days were spent aimlessly wandering the estate, occasionally crossing paths with one of Sukuna's mistresses, their curious smirks evident as they exited his room.

The second year brought a subtle shift. You still slept alone, but now there was a surprising addition of joining Sukuna for dinner. Positioned diagonally from him, an air of restrained silence hung above your head. Yet, between the utensils clattering and quiet chewing, Sukuna's glances toward you and your five-month-old belly revealed your anticipation for the impending arrival of your child.

One of your maids had been instructed to lure you into a private conversation in the back garden, and before you could react, a group of men clad in black drugged you and forcibly removed you from the cage, which in that cruel moment felt like a sanctuary.

Most details of the monstrosities forced upon you in that warehouse have been compressed by your mind—the merciless physical and sexual assault endured for hours. They callously bragged that raping Sukuna's Ryomen's wife was a personal victory, cackling like bloodthirsty hyenas as you bled from your legs. In the thick of your suffering, you lost your second child in a pool of your own sweat and feces.

When Sukuna discovered you, when he annihilated every man along with their bloodlines, you were left as a mere shell of a woman, practically lifeless. You've existed as a walking corpse for quite some time now. Following that dreadful night, you attempted every conceivable means to end your own life—drowning, leaping out of windows, creating a makeshift noose from bed sheets and tying them around balcony railings, teetering on the edge—but every attempt proved useless. Sukuna consistently interfered at the last minute, sweeping in and enveloping you in his arms as you wept until unconsciousness claimed you for days.

Therapy provided some relief, as did the medications. Sukuna heightened security measures tenfold, keeping only those workers who served during his father and grandfather's reigns. He moved your belongings into his bedroom, sleeping by your side with a gun beneath his pillow. There were times when you would doze off in the library while reading, only to wake up in his room.

Two years seemed like an eternity in the slow process of healing, both physically and mentally, from the torment that had befallen you. Stepping into the garden was a reminder of the progress you had made, yet the hope that blossomed in your womb now filled you with a different kind of fear.

You needed your baby. Even if it meant risking your own life during childbirth. The only thing that mattered was the precious life you carried within you, and as long as your baby took that first breath, you'd welcome death with open arms.

Sukuna's bedroom door creaked open, revealing his presence.

Mink-colored tendrils of hair obscured his eyes, disheveled from their usual spiked stance. The stark white of his dress shirt was marred by the unmistakable stains of someone else's blood, and a gun dangled casually from his grasp. In the subdued lighting, his facial markings, inked tattoos designed to mask the scars of his tormented childhood, appeared more ominous than ever.

Without acknowledging your ogling, he briskly entered his bathroom.

You slipped back under the covers, pulling the comforter up to your chin, soothing the sharp twinges in your belly. The rhythmic sounds of his shower served as a background melody. Sukuna took an eternity to freshen up, nearly two hours passing before the door finally creaked open. You had kept a close eye on it, lost in your own world and trying to ignore the persistent contractions. No complaints, though – you were at the eight-month mark, and this baby was determined to make its entrance into the world.

Draped in a sleek black silk robe, Sukuna strolled toward his side of the bed, his eyes locking onto yours. "Why are you still awake?" He tilted his head as if studying an unfamiliar creature. He always regarded you with a curious interest, unearthing some new revelations about you.

"Cramps," you whispered in the dimness, even though the first rays of morning sun began to seep through the curtains.

Sukuna strolled to his side of the bed, lifting the comforter to settle down. "Do you take any medication for it?"

You shook your head. "I don't want to take any risks."

"So you're just going to endure the night with a migraine?"

Your husband seemed oblivious to the concept of cramps. He hadn't bothered to educate himself about your pregnancy or even familiarize himself with basic menstrual cycle terminology. You hesitated to bring attention to his title and position, but he was, after all, born from a woman.

How could he not know?

"Answer me," Sukuna demanded, fixing you with a cold, indifferent gaze. How could two simple words carry such a heavy, intimidating weight? Your entire body shuddered, and you swore you felt your child kick in response to his attitude, causing you to clench your teeth.

"Cramps . . . are something women experience during their period and pregnancy. They're sharp, unpredictable pains in your gut and back," you explained, finding a position that eased the cramps and calmed your baby. "It's worse when you're pregnant—like someone attached a taser to your body without a switch to turn it off."

Sukuna's brow furrowed, and he seemed pissed off as if he held a vendetta against cramps. "Will it have any consequence on the baby?"

You were really trying to be patient. “The baby is the reason why.” 

He ran his hands wearily down his face, casting a stern gaze at the ceiling, his breath quickening. "Is there any way to relieve the pain? Besides medication?"

“Well,” you said slowly, “when I first started menstruating, my mother used to place a warm rubber bottle on my stomach.” The recollection of nights spent groaning, tossing, and turning with your hand clutching your stomach brought a smile. After her passing in high school, you found yourself managing the household, dealing with your drug-addicted father, and taking care of yourself all on your own.

"Come here."

Startled, you shifted your focus to your husband, who raised the comforter like a makeshift tent with one arm. "You don't have to—"

"Come here."

With caution, you edged closer, lying flat and holding your breath. Sukuna propped himself up on one elbow, resting his temple on his knuckles while adjusting the blanket up to your neck. His left hand glided up your sweater and settled on your swollen belly.

An immediate sense of relaxation cocooned you, your eyes closing as warmth radiated from his palm onto your skin. The sensation passed through to your child, who quit kicking within seconds, seemingly recognizing their father's touch. It dawned on you that Sukuna hadn't touched you since you conceived, and you hadn't realized the volume of your misery and longing until this moment.

"Feeling better?"

"Mm-hmm." You nestled your face close to his neck. All you managed to whisper, your voice tinged with brokenness, was, "Please, don't let go."

Sukuna responded only with silence.

You'd woken up screaming bloody-mary.

The security team and maids hurried into the bedroom, their eyes widening at the sight of blood staining your clothes and darkening the black sheets. In a swift response, the doctor and her team of nurses rushed in while Uraume, Sukuna's trusted aide, calmly called for your husband from a corner of the room.

In the heat of your excruciating screams, five nurses attempted to guide your breathing and encourage you to follow a pattern. Guards carefully lifted you into a sitting position, and Uraume decisively cleared the room of all men. The doctor swiftly removed your sweatpants and panties, covering your lower region with a sheet, and instructing you to push.

Your body felt numb, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and a black vignette closing in on your vision. Your head swayed left and right, on the verge of dropping if not for Uraume's unwavering support. Despite the intensity of your grip, they held steady, their only reaction being a stream of muttered curses amid the chaotic scene.

"I can't—Uraume—"

"You will, Mrs. Sukuna. You have come this far. Giving up now is not an option."

"I don't want to die," you whispered akin to a prayer.

"You won't," they softly replied. "He won't allow it."

Uraume, a silent figure from the past, now stood by your side, offering support and encouragement. The connection with them had been minimal, limited to the formalities of a marital contract signing. They had simply muttered, “He’s not half as evil as they say,” to you before packing up the papers and leaving you in the room with Sukuna.

The room buzzed with affirmations, reassuring you that they could see the baby's head and urging you to push with each breath.

The sound of the baby's cries stirred you awake.

You snapped to attention at the sweet, reassuring sound, realizing that your baby was close to arrival—alive and ready to face the world. Following two heartbreaking miscarriages and the pain endured as Sukuna's wife, the bearer of his lost children, you were finally on the cusp of welcoming motherhood.

"Two more pushes!" The doctor's voice cut through the air.

"AGH!" A guttural growl escaped your throat as you grappled with the harsh sensations. Your body trembled, and waves of fiery discomfort overflowed through your core as you exerted yourself to bring your baby into the world.

"Come on," Uraume whispered. "You can do this, Mrs. Ryomen."

You let out a powerful cry and strained with effort, bringing forth new life. The baby and you were crying at the exact wavelength, competing against who could be louder. The nurses and attendants, familiar faces from your previous pregnancies, clasped their hands in prayer for a safe delivery. Tears of relief streamed down your face as you pushed for your own well-being.

"Blanket!" the doctor urgently called out, prompting a nurse to rush over with a soft cream blanket. "Push!"

With a final, determined push, the weight lifted suddenly.

The slippery sensation of delivering the child and the immediate release of pressure left you slumping against Uraume's shoulder. As they laid you down, the doctor directed the staff to tend to you while the baby's cries filled the air.

The doctor approached through your hazy sight and gently laid your newborn on your chest. Overwhelmed with emotion, you showered your baby with kisses, tears of joy streaming down your face. Your little one was here. They were finally here.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Ryomen," the doctor announced as the cries of your newborn gradually faded into the background. "It's a girl."

You drifted into unconsciousness.

The soft cadence of Sukuna's voice filtered through the foggy boundaries of sleep, causing you to slowly come back to life.

“Why is this brat refusing to sleep?” you heard your husband grumbling.

With a laborious effort, you rubbed your eyes, summoning the strength to lift your head from the comfort of the pillow. The scene unfolded before you—Sukuna, the most feared criminal, pacing at the foot of his bed, cradling your crying newborn daughter in his arms, unsure of how to handle his little foe.

"What do you want? Food? You don’t have any teeth yet, little miscreant."

"Sukuna . . ." you whispered, a gentle plea for attention.

Your husband's gaze snapped in your direction, relief washing over his features as he realized you were conscious. "Thank fuck." Moving swiftly, he approached and took a seat at the edge of the bed.

His brown-reddish eyes lingered on the delicate scene unfolding before him—the intertwining of your index finger with your daughter's tiny, rattling fist. A calming magic seemed to stem from your touch, instantly soothing the cries to soft sniffles.

"Already playing favorites, I see," he remarked with a teasing tone, a wry smile on his lips.

"I have to feed her." Your voice was hoarse from the relentless screaming during the delivery. A series of deadly wheezes followed when you coughed, frightening your baby once more. Her cries started again, blending with the impatient curses of her father.

He gently placed her in the cradle, his strength used to prop you up against the headboard. The room carried the scent of coconut soap, your body freshly washed, the sheets beneath you brand-new. You were also dressed in a new set of panties and a nursing bra.

"Are you sure you have enough nutrients in your body to feed her?" Sukuna asked, holding your baby girl as you unclipped the front left cup. Rather than wasting your breath on a response, you focused on helping your daughter latch onto your nipple.

You winced once she caught it, then melted back as she started drinking. “I’m fine,” you finally answered. “Body . . . hurts.”

"No shit. You pushed an eight pound baby out of you." Despite the crude sarcasm in his tone, Sukuna tenderly caressed his knuckles over his daughter's cheek.

"Did you want . . . a girl?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, adjusting your baby onto your lap. "I assumed you'd prefer a boy as an heir."

"I'm not my father," he declared, putting an end to the conversation. "She's got your eyes."

Your daughter gazed up at you with a curiosity remarkably similar to yours. You smiled down at her, grateful she had made it. Grateful that Sukuna wasn't throwing a tantrum over the gender of your child but instead cupping the top of his baby girl's head and brushing his thumb across her forehead.

“You got a name for her?” Sukuna asked.

“Yes, but we can brainstorm if you don’t—”

“You carried the child, you birthed her, you will name her. Whatever it is, I agree.”

Something dead stirred inside your chest. Swallowing hard, you shared the chosen name, "Nobara."

He nodded in approval, and as he pronounced her name, Nobara responded with a wailing cry. "Her tantrums will be the fucking death of me." Sukuna took her into his arms again.

"Support the back of her head and rub her back. She needs to be burped," you advised.

He grunted but followed your instructions. Moments later, a tiny burp from Nobara made you chuckle, earning a slight eye roll and a hint of a smile from him.

"I'll take the next few weeks off to help you recover from the aftermath and the stitches," he announced, rising and walking towards his work desk, where he settled into a large leather chair, cradling your newborn.

You nodded appreciatively, easing yourself down.

"Oh, before I forget," Sukuna mentioned as you settled into bed, "I've arranged a new doctor for you."

“Did you fire the last one?”

“I fired at her, yes.”

Your eyes widened. "What? Why would you—? What?"

He shrugged, cradling the back of your newborn's head. "She suggested an additional stitch for you. Said it would make things 'tighter' down there for me."

Your face flushed. “So . . . you killed her?”

"Yes," he confirmed, his gaze fixed on you with those penetrating eyes, "I don't need a mere doctor questioning whether I'd still enjoy having sex with my wife after she gave birth to our child."

“But . . . you have mistresses. Don’t you?”

He lifted a brow. “I had mistresses up until . . . ”

Up until the kidnapping.

Sukuna never spoke of the crime after he’d saved you. Instead, he expressed his commitment through actions: sleeping beside you, teaching you how to handle a handgun, keeping a protective arm around your waist at social gatherings. Occasionally, you swore you felt him run his fingers through your hair as you slept.

"I wouldn't mind if you did," you admitted, a voice inside contradicting your words. "Given what my body has been through, I would find myself repulsive for pleasure, too. I understand if you feel disgusted."

Sukuna halted the gentle strokes on your daughter's back and straightened up. "What the fuck did you just say?"

An icy shiver ran through you, momentarily numbing the pain. "I-I just assumed—"

"You know, you make a lot of assumptions about me, wife. It gets under my fucking skin that you'd ever believe I could raise a hand on you. Day and night, every hour and minute, even now, in your presence, my mind is consumed with ways to kill the fear that's taken root in you.” He was infuriated yet vulnerable, with Nobara sleeping peacefully on his shoulder. “Everyone I’ve ever met has done nothing but fear me like I’m a curse on their soul, and while I’m flattered of the monster they’ve painted me out to be, I refuse to let my wife and daughter see me in that light. Do I make myself clear?"

You . . . nodded. 

“And for your information, I had mistresses up until I married you.”

You took in a sharp breath, processing the confession. "But those women—"

"Spies," he clarified, his voice low and steady. "They operate undercover in my clubs, keeping an eye out for potential threats. I haven't fucked anyone since the day I put that ring on your finger." He offered a small, almost imperceptible apology to your baby for cursing.

"Oh."

All you ever heard were twisted stories about the Sukuna Ryomen, a young man who, against all odds, slaughtered his own father to ascend the throne of the underworld criminal realm. Whispers spoke of a chilling childhood, where a mother's desperate attempt to suffocate her son in his sleep. The scars etched into his skin, concealed beneath a tapestry of dark markings, bore witness to the brutal initiation rites inflicted by vengeful uncles. In his domain, everyone prayed to see him buried six feet under.

Which is why you felt sympathy for your husband. He was lonely. Too lonely. Despite all the riches and influence surrounding him, he was stuck in a fortress where danger lurked around every corner. He had no friends, no one he could truly confide in—except perhaps Uraume. Opening up about his emotions wasn't in his nature. He kept the tough exterior, convinced that being a monster, a curse, was the only path to earning respect and recognition.

But just now, when had cut himself open in front of you and bled a human color, he was Sukuna. Your husband. The one who just became a father. A man wrapped in a comfortable robe with his hair combed down and his skin clean of dirt and blood as he held his daughter, as he gazed at you like you two were the only people meant fighting for in his treacherous world.

Sukuna noticed your silence, tuned in to your steady breaths, and lowered his lashes. "You'll ask me to touch you. Not just for the sake of having another child but for your own pleasure. If I'm not around and you need me, you will call, and I'll rush home. If this little brat gives you any trouble, I'll handle it. Hell, maybe I'll let her in on a bit of the family business for a head start."

"No," you murmured, absorbing everything he'd just said. "Not now. I want her to enjoy a proper childhood."

"Is that a demand?" Sukuna tilted his head slightly, another method of asserting authority. Yet, after all he'd shared about dropping everything for you, about making love to you, the fear in you started to dissolve bit by bit.

"Yes," you affirmed. "It's a demand."

A small smirk played on Sukuna's lips as he rose from his spot, circled the bed, and settled down beside you, with Nobara resting peacefully on his chest. Summoning all your strength, you turned to run your fingers over your baby's soft cheek and tiny, parted lips.

“She sleeps like you, Mr. Ryomen.”

“Sukuna,” he corrected, his arm covering his eyes as he breathed with a slightly open mouth. “My wife will call me Sukuna.”

Teasingly, you asked, “Is that a demand, Sukuna?”

His arm shifted low, and his reddish-brown eyes softened, stealing your breath. “Only from my wife and daughter.”

You smiled, closing your eyes. “Goodnight, Sukuna.”

In response, he wrapped his strong arm around you, pulling you close to his side, his two girls snuggled against his body.

In the beginning, you knew you didn't belong in the hell Sukuna ruled. Your father's mistakes, pilfering drug shipments and peddling them locally, had sealed both his fate and yours. With thoughts of fleeing the disgrace your father brought upon your family, you had started packing, desperate to escape the clutches of your old man.

The following night, Sukuna and his henchmen barged into your cramped apartment, wreaking havoc on every piece of furniture. Rocking in the corner of your room, Sukuna casted his shadow over you like the God of Death, bathed in your father’s blood.

Crouching down to your eye level, he tipped your chin up, leaving a splotch of blood. He used the collar of your sweater to wipe it away. In a hushed confession, you revealed the hidden drugs under the sink and floorboards, along with your father's buyer list folded in the cereal boxes. Sukuna grinned and ordered his underlings to retrieve the concealed items. Then, the chilling question hung in the air: "Are you going to kill me, too?"

"I'm tempted," Sukuna replied, "but not to kill you." His gaze fixated on your left hand, and he raised it, studying your ring finger. "You will pay for your father's crimes with your life." He held your hand in front of your face. "You will take my last name." His smirk widened, revealing perfect teeth. "Isn't that the cruelest form of death, love?"

Unconsciousness claimed you then, but after seven years of marriage, enduring unimaginable hardships, and finally welcoming a baby into the world, your answer was clear. The true torment wasn't caused by the man you once perceived as a monster but rather by his enemies.

"How am I supposed to know if Mr. Munchkin wants more tea? He's a fucking stuffed toy. Can't talk, you know?"

"Sukuna," you warned, perched on the armrest while busy crocheting baby socks for your little one on the way.

Nobara, wielding a rubber, squeaky hammer, stood up from her seat, giving her father a bonk on the head each time he let out a curse. And you often heard the squeak of the hammer around the house.

Nobara's tiara was slightly askew, frustration evident in her curled lips and bared teeth. She was growing increasingly irritated with her father's lack of understanding about the rules of her tea party. "Mr. Munchkin wants tea, Papa. Give him tea! Give him tea! Give him—"

"Fine, I surrender. Here, you little bastard. Take the whole fu—damn pot." He shoved the plastic teapot towards Mr. Munchkin, a well-loved cat stuffed toy you had gifted Nobara on her last birthday. "Happy?"

"Cup," she insisted, pointing at the tea cup in front of Mr. Munchkin.

Sukuna sighed and poured the water from the kettle into the pink plastic cup.

"Me too," Nobara added, settling back in her kiddie chair. Sukuna had barely taken his seat before she had him on the floor. "Hurry!"

"May I pour for the other toys first, Your Highness?"

"Not toys. Friends."

Sukuna shot you a helpless glare, eliciting a chuckle from you. He filled the table with tea, and Nobara, holding her small cup, clinked it with her father's, followed by her collection of stuffed animals. Sukuna reluctantly mimicked the gesture. Instead of sipping the tea, he downed it like a shot.

“Papa!”

“Sukuna, come on.”

There wasn’t any winning with his girls.

Sukuna reluctantly poured himself another cup, sipping it with an air of royalty that mirrored a princess. Despite his resistance to the make-believe tea party, you couldn't ignore the genuine affection he showed toward his daughter. He would nod attentively when one of the stuffed animals "spoke," laughed along with Nobara, and even beautified himself with a glittering tiara, a feathered pink scarf, and deep purple-painted nails.

Sukuna was, without a doubt, a fantastic father. It came as no surprise that Nobara's first word was 'Brat.'

That night, you kissed your daughter goodnight and tucked her into her bed. Sukuna joked that he’d spent every last bit of his wealth decorating the brat’s room, filling it with the latest toys, and stacking her closet with whatever clothes she laid her finger or eyes on. She was truly the princess of her father’s heart.

"She's asleep," you informed him.

"I'll give her a kiss in a minute. Just need to finish this," Sukuna replied, pouring over his documents.

Letting out a sigh, you shuffled over, rolled back his chair, and settled onto his lap. He continued reading as you wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your cheek on his shoulder, peering at him through your lashes.

"I want you," you murmured.

Sukuna paused, lowering his gaze to meet your cheeky smile. "Later."

"It's late."

"I have to finish—" He halted as you began kissing his neck, moving up to his jaw and cheeks, tracing the contours of his face tattoos.

"Please, Sukuna," you whispered near his ear.

How could he refuse you anything when you appeared so stunning, radiating with the joy of expecting another child in your four-month-old belly?

“Take off your robe and get on the bed. Spread your legs for me.” He gave your ass a little smack as you happily skipped away, shedding your clothes and clearing the bed to settle in. With a grin, you opened your legs, propping yourself up on your elbows.

Sukuna stood up from his seat, loosening his robe as he did. He sighed, watching the moisture forming between your legs. Pregnancy seemed to heighten your lusts, and Sukuna was always ready to fulfill your needs.

“What pretty, wet cunt,” he whispered softly, leaning in to kiss your chest, trailing down to your stomach, your hips, your calling clit. 

Over the years, you realized Sukuna enjoyed pleasuring you more than the opposite. He feasted on you like a starved man, whether it happened in the back of the limo, in a guest room during a party, or just minutes before a crucial meeting in his office. He insisted it was his way of relaxing, often pleading with you to spend a full hour on his face as he ate you out and drank every drop of your release. It had turned into a daily routine for him. And for you.

“Oh, Sukuna, yes, yes. Right there—ah!” Your back arched off the mattress when his tongue drove into your hole, flicking and exploring your clamping walls. His mouth was latched to your pussy, sucking it in, his cheeks hollowing rapidly. Your fingers tightened in his hair, hips voluntarily grating against his face, his sharp nose rubbing over your swollen clit. 

Sukuna drew back as you came down with a muted cry behind your hand and lapped at the flow of your juices pouring out of you. His lips shone as he leaned over and gently kissed you, allowing you to taste yourself from his tongue. “If I don’t fuck you now, I will die.” 

“Hurry, then.” 

Sukuna pushed himself inside you, and that first wave of pleasure hit you so strongly that you sank your nails in his back and cried out heavenwards. He groaned and grunted, thrusts growing speed, his plump balls smacking against your ass. You loved that he fucked harder, faster, driving you to the brink of ruination. 

After you'd healed from Nobara's birth, he would always make sure to get at least ten orgasms from you. From midnight to early morning, he'd fuck you in every possible position. But his favorite was always missionary, where he could have his eyes on you, writhing and whimpering beneath him, telling him it’s too much, he's too thick, all while using your heels to draw him in even closer.

Sukuna curled his arm around your waist and sat you up on his lap, thrusting up into you as you coiled yourself around his neck. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. Your cunt was made for me, love. Your cunt was fucking made for me.” His hand threaded to the back of your head, grasping your hair and drawing your face back so you were looking him in the eyes without wavering, without bowing your head. He needed to know you didn’t fear him when he fucked you like this. It was an unspoken check-in, and when you smiled drunkenly, only then did he let you return to embracing him. 

“Are you close?” you whispered. 

“Not yet. I want to come in your ass.” 

You shivered despite how scalding and sweaty your bodies were. “Do it.” 

“Yeah?” 

You nodded. “Please.” 

Sukuna dragged you off his cock so you could get on all-fours, raising your ass up for him. He’s only ever been in your sacred spot a handful of times but never finished himself inside it. It appeared that tonight you were both a little extra spellbound.

Mounting himself behind you, Sukuna unfurled your ass and spit on his fingers, stroking the puckered hole. He gathered the creamy liquid dripping out of your pussy to lubricate the spot. His middle finger stretched you out, followed by his ring fingers, pushing in and out until he knew for sure you were prepared for him. 

Sukuna’s steel-hard cock pushed into your tiny hole. The sight of it expanding to swallow his girthy size almost made him come right there and then. He started to move in sluggish movement, grabbing onto your waist. His hips cruised, brushing against your ass, making you impatient and push yourself back. 

“Understood.” He chuckled and dug his nails into your skin, dragging out to the tip and shoving himself inside. Your face pressed into your pillows, crying and trembling as he abused your asshole non-stop. “You’re taking me so well, my love. Oh, fuck, fuck.” He rutted into you like a beast, claiming your body, rubbing your clit from the front, spanking your ass, brandishing you over and over again. 

You both snapped in unison. 

Sukuna sagged over your spine as he bucked in every last bit of his sloppy seed. His lips kissed your shoulder blades, holding you up by one arm. Gently, he pulled out, his cock growing floppy until you flipped onto your back, hair sticking to your sweaty, flushed face, belly slightly swollen, your tits larger in size, his release mingled with yours seeping out from your holes. 

“Fuck, I love you,” he whispered, cupping your face like he didn’t just fuck your soul out of you. That smirk you’d come to love appeared on his lips. You reciprocated back, stretching out your arms so he could lean down and kiss you sweetly on the lips and cheeks and toss in a praise or two for what a good girl you were as he slid into you again, slower and more intimate with his game. “I fucking love you, Y/N.” 

You smiled against his lips that continuously whispered the three beautiful words and said, “I love you, too, Sukuna,” before sealing it with a long, lasting kiss.

[novamariestark]

I Can See You [Spencer Reid]

Summary: You've been dating Spencer for almost a year and you are yet to tell your big brother, Aaron

Warnings: bad writing 🤣. fluff, some angst

Word count: 1764

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Hotchner!Reader

You hadn’t meant to keep it a secret this long. You didn’t want to. But when it came to you dating, your brother was way too overprotective. You loved him to death for it but it also pissed you off to no end.

Spencer freaked when he found out that you were Hotch’s baby sister and even broke it off for a while because he felt as though he was betraying him. But you had crept into his heart and you weren’t planning on vacating any time soon.

Even when you weren’t together, you were the only thing on his mind. You’d be there constantly whilst he was on a case. He couldn’t concentrate and it was painfully obvious to everyone. Even Hotch. The latter pulled him aside and told him to fix what was going on before he got someone or himself killed.

That counts as his blessing, right?

As soon as they touched down in Washington he rushed over to your apartment to see you. Throwing quick goodbyes to everyone and not looking back.

“Pretty boy has a girl. I’m calling it,” Morgan called out, pointing at the quickly retreating Spencer.

That was almost 11 months ago. 11 months of sneaking around behind your brother’s back. Which wasn’t too much of an issue when you first started dating but now you were an agent in the Criminal Investigative Division of the FBI. That meant both you and Spencer had longer work hours and often different schedules. So sometimes you two decide to see each other at the office. You knew it was risky and quickies in the car doesn’t compare to the bedroom but you both took what you could get.

However, recently, Spencer had been arguing that maybe it was time to tell your brother. You assumed he felt guilty. Not guilty enough to stop the sex in the FBI garage but guilty enough.

He did feel guilty but there was another reason he wanted to tell your brother.

You wanted to tell Aaron too. Really you did. But you’ve put it off so long that you know that he’s gonna be disappointed you didn’t tell him sooner. Anger you could take but the one thing you never wanted to do was disappoint him.

He was your idol. Your hero. The person you’ve always looked up to. The one you wanted to make proud. That’s why you joined the FBI. You wanted to make him proud. And he was, he just wished you’d picked a safer occupation.

He was concerned and worried every time you and your team left the office and was finally able to breathe when you arrived back. If he was away on a job when you came back you went to see Penelope or Peach as you called her. It was a deal you made with Aaron so he knew you were okay. Spencer didn’t oppose to this arrangement either because all he had to do was look at Hotch and he’d know that you were okay.

But one day, that call from Penelope was a little different. The team had come back... without you.

The simple arrest of Washington’s newest drug kingpin had turned into a kidnapping. Yours.

The BAU team couldn’t do anything but wait for the plane to land in Washington. In four hours time. Hotch hadn’t said a word. Neither had Spencer and the moment he didn’t make his move on the chess board, everyone took notice.

He just stared out the window and waited. Images of what you were going through at that very moment flashed though his mind. Were you hurt? Were you scared?

Were you alive?

Even your brother had snapped out of his thoughts and took notice of his lack of presence inside the jet. Sure he’d noticed your closeness but he didn’t think anything of it. You were close with Penelope and JJ too. But as he started to think back, he starts to see all the little signs. Small things.

But one thing in particular was how comfortable Spencer was with you. So easily comfortable. It all started to become clear. Aaron had figured you were seeing someone but you wouldn’t tell him who and as you’ve grown older you’ve become more adept at covering your tracks. Morgan also speculated on multiple occasions that Spencer was seeing someone.

What should he feel? Anger because you didn’t tell him or betrayal because you’re his sister and Spencer was one of his agents? His baby sister. And no matter how old you were, that’s what you were always going to be.

He would’ve been completely pissed. Shouting, demanding answers and an explanation if it wasn’t for what he was seeing in front of him.

Worry, fear, pain and helplessness. The same thing he’d see if he looked in the mirror right now. He didn’t have to ask. He knew.

When the plane finally landed, the team wasted no time in getting back to the office. Aaron inserts himself into the operation to get you back, not taking no for an answer and Spencer is right there with him.

Even when he was ordered not to interfere because he was too close, he did exactly that. You were in trouble, no way was he not going to tear up the entire state looking for you.

He told the team to stand down, not wanting them to get into trouble for defying a direct order but none of them budged. At this point, you were their family too.

The longer you’re missing the more it takes it’s toll on Spencer. So much so that he’s the first one to lash out at your boss when it’s found out that there has been a ransom made in exchange for your return to no action had been taken to do that.

“We’re not going to hand over all the evidence for his trial,“

”The hell we won’t,“

“We can’t—”

“—leave her there”

“Reid,” Aaron spoke, his voice loud to get his attention but no anger was in it. He reached a hand out and placed it on his shoulder, gently pulling him away from your boss “so,” he started, stepping forward to take his place, “What exactly are you doing to find my sister?”

“I don’t tell you how to run your team Hotchner, don’t tell me how to run mine,”

“Alright listen here,” Aaron stepped closer, right in his face, “if one hair on her head is out of place, I swear I’ll—”

“Hotch!”

“What?!”

“Maybe we should just give them some space to work and—”

”they’ve had five hours and they barely know where she was snatched from,“

Gideon gave him a look. One that told him to play along. He did and the team followed him to their usual conference room. Each of them branching off to do what they do best, working tirelessly to get you back.

And they did this for hours until Morgan got a text from Penelope, who conveniently was lounging at your desk.

They received a video

Aaron and Spencer rushed out of the office and down to yours. Your brother had tried to stop him from going, not wanting him to see you in a possibly horrific state but he couldn’t stop. He had to see you and he did.

He tried to ignore the blood, the wounds and focus on your hands, that to your captors, were wriggling due to the ache of them being tied up for hours but to Spencer and the others it was a message.

Trains... every 12 minutes... the only clue you knew about your whereabouts, and you knew that maybe it wouldn’t be enough so you added a little something to prepare for that.

I love you

With the reminder of their demands, the video fades to black, much like your vision.

Your eyes only opened again when you heard gunshots and shouting. The voices sounded familiar but muffled, far away. Perhaps you were imagining them and you were convinced you were until a door clanged open.

Someone called your name, followed by the sound of running footsteps, that got louder with each step. It wasn’t long until the footsteps stopped and a figure knelt down beside you.

”Angel?“ he spoke softly, his hands moving to cup your cheeks. His thumbs wiping the tearstains away.

”you found me“

”Yeah, Angel, we did,“ he replied, moving to untie your hands. As soon as you were free, you threw your arms around him, holding on so tight because you were afraid that he’d disappear. He moves his head slightly to the side to press a kiss to your temple, ”I love you too, Angel“

”I love you more,“

You smile, pulling away. He got your message. The smile faltered slightly when you looked up and your brother came into view.

Uh oh. Did he know?

You didn’t know what to expect. The thought of losing your brother was worse than the pain you had been through the past god knows how long.

You had thought about him finding out so often and he was angry, disappointed, betrayed. None of your playthroughs of this moment ever ended happily.

”I’m so glad you’re safe, (y/n),“ he smiled, leaning down to press a kiss on your head like he had always done.

”you’re not mad?“

Spencer looked up at him too, curious about the answer himself.

”of course not,“ he said, okay a little lie but you’d been through enough and he’d be stupid to ignore what was right in front of him.

Your eyebrows scrunched as you lift you head from Spencer’s chest, moving closer because you were sure you misheard him, ”you’re not,“

He sighed opening his arms for you to hug. You didn’t waste any time, tears falling as you sob into his shoulder, ”I thought you’d be mad, and I’d lose you,“

”I was mad at first,“ he admitted, one of his hands stroking your hair in a soothing rhythm, ”because you didn’t tell me,“ he added and you started apologising profusely but he stopped you, ”I’m not anymore because the truth is—“ He patted Spencer on his shoulder ”—you couldn’t have chosen a better man“

You smiled so much of the way home. So much so, you thought your cheeks were stuck like that.

You had asked Aaron if he wanted to join you two for dinner and after you giving him that look you always gave him to get whatever you want, your best puppy dog eyes, he said yes.

[miirohs]

nightingale [m.v.s]

pairing: Mob Boss!Max Verstappen x Nurse!Reader wc: 1.7k cw: indications of ppd (not explicit but you'd have to read the lines for it), max is not the most mentally stable, abuse mentioned (not in detail) an: elle is 100% made up and if yall want more family content hmu i can do it 😝 also, the nightingale oath isn’t universally used, but essentially it’s almost the same thing as the Hippocratic oath doctors take :)

“She won’t stop crying!” Max snapped, frustratedly clutching the rails of the crib as the baby in it cried relentlessly, giving you a crazed look from the corner of his eye as you got closer. It was like dealing with a wounded animal that refused your help.

“Breath Max. Breath.” From the moment you had arrived at the Verstappen home, it had been walking on eggshells, anger fueling his every waking move from as far as three weeks as he prowled around the house.

“Godverdomme (goddamnit) Y/n, I know that! Why is she crying though?!”

You reached out a hand, stroking his back gently. You ought to be as angry as him for having you snatched off the streets but you couldn’t, not with the reveal of his child. You had the barest idea of what he might have been going through.

“I don’t know, I'm not… yeah.” The look in his eyes turned sharp and you closed your mouth, staring down at your hands.

“I’m leaving, I can’t do this right now. Don’t come after me or else.” He threatened, the anger on his face fading into a stoic look as he turned away from the child, one look you feared more than his explosive anger.

It wasn’t until he left the room, gun drawn in hand, that you could breathe again, nearly collapsing to the floor.

You turned around, weakly holding the rails. You could hear him barking at the guards from inside the room, fading into the distance as your anticipation slowly died down. You thought that maybe today, you were good as dead.

The baby’s fussing had died down long before you had finally noticed. You hesitated when looking at her, reaching in to pick her up gently.

“Hi Elle.”

All the baby did was look at you blankly, eyes still wet from the countless tears that’d been shed before Max left. She had his gorgeous blue eyes, but most likely her mothers soft face.

You knew he was a dangerous man, and now you supposed the baby knew as well, seeing the way she’d been crying before Max had finally left the room. It wasn’t an isolated incident as well, building up across many miniature incidents.

The most shocking part, though, was the fact you’d been told the biggest kingpin in the Netherlands had a child. You would’ve laughed in the face of the person telling you before, but now it felt realer than it had been for the last couple weeks.

You gently cradled the baby in your arm, rocking her lightly as you looked out the door ajar to the hall. You could hear the guard grumbling in discontent as they went about their business, yet none of the commotion had bothered Elle. 

She had finally fallen asleep in your arms, gripping onto your finger as you put her down, a strong sense of familiarity washing over you. 

You spent a good part of your time caring for children, as this was no different to you.

Letting go of the crib, you steeled your nerves to walk out the room, arms crossed in front of your protectively as you eyed the men in the hall.

One of the guards, Daniel, held you back gently by the shoulder, looking at you with curious eyes. This was probably one of the more rare times seeing you, it was like you’d never left the nursery from the moment you got here.

“You can’t-”

“He kidnapped me from my own home Daniel. I don’t think he has a right to keep me from going wherever I want in his house.” You snapped, surprised at how hoarse your voice seemed.

He didn’t fight you, simply nodding and slinking back to his spot because there wasn’t much he could do to convince you to stay. 

You could easily recall your steps to the kitchen, the heat in your feet dispelled by the cold tiles as you entered.

You didn’t know how long you were there, standing blankly at the sink as the water continued to fill up in the glass.

The glass was overfilling and you watched it, hands clenched into fists before you released them entirely, weight rolling off your shoulders.

The sound of a door slamming snapped you out of your stupor, turning off the sink and staring into the dimly illuminated living room.

Max came through the door, blood staining his shirt and face, dirt smudge across his nose and cheeks. He noticed you, a look of disparagement in his eyes as he got closer. Looking into his eyes, it really reminded you of Elle.

He ignored you as he limped into the kitchen, opening a cabinet with more gentleness than you’d seen in days.

“I thought I told you not to leave her alone?” He said, voice scratchy and low as if he’d been screaming. 

“She’s finally asleep.”

You responded. He didn’t bother to critize you again, popping open the bottle of whisky and pouring it into a glass. 

He limped back to the living room, settling into an armchair with his back to the cityline. He looked almost formidable as the harsh shadows cast lines on his face.

“You sure have a way of showing you care, Max.”

“I know you aren’t criticizing me now, schat.” He laughed humorlessly, sending shivers down your spine.

“Oh yeah, because kidnapping someone to take care of your child really says you love them.” You snarked, eyes trailing to his sides. 

There were minor tears when you hadn’t seen his shirt before he left, heart beating loudly as you got a glimpse of his bloodied side as he pushed himself up.

“What happened to you?”

“What do you think happened?” He said, rolling his eyes as he lowered the glass from his lips.

“Well, this isn’t healthy. For you or Elle.” You said wearily, finger tracing the rim of the glass. “Have you ever considered therapy? It might-“

“No.” 

You blinked, surprised by his sudden refusal. “Why not?”

“I can’t. Do you know the kind of risk that poses?” He grumbled, clearly offended at you for suggesting so.

“Okay then, sure would’ve been better if you’d kidnapped a therapist rather than an underpaid nurse to do that job for you. Secrecy and all.” 

“That’s how you want to play then? I’ll give you the money, then leave this place and never come back, if you’re that desperate.” He gritted through clenched teeth, temper clearly being dialed up by the reminder.

“What? Absolutely not.” It was your turn to reject his offer, staring at him blankly. You didn’t know why that made you feel so upset.

“I’m offering you money and allowing you to leave, what more could you want, schat?” He scoffed, sharply putting down the whiskey glass as he held his head in the other hand.

“I can't just leave her like that, you know that as well as I do.” He remained silent, which you took as permission to get closer to him.

He didn’t protest as you leaned over, yet flinched slightly as you pulled his shirt up.

“Calm down, if I had any intention of hurting you, you’d know.” You rolled your eyes, turning up the light a little more so you could see the full extent of his wounds.

“I don’t think it’s necessary-“ 

You cut him off with a sharp inhale. The other miniature wounds stared back at you, barely cuts compared to the jagged scar that ran down his side. “When did this happen?” You whispered.

He slammed his glass down again and you flinched back, split seconds before you could look him in the eyes again. They were slightly sorrowful, but otherwise empty, where there had been every negative emotion a human could muster moments before.

“It was my dad.”

“Did he…” You didn’t finish the sentence, swallowing your doubts as you stared at it.

“Yes. It was in a fight. He won, obviously.” He answered, short and clipped as his posture dropped slightly. 

“Is this why you don’t want Elle? Because you don’t want her to go through-” You asked meekly, cut off almost instantly. “The old man is dead. I killed him myself, made sure he couldn’t lay a single hand on anyone else.” Max hissed, a few beats passing in between the both of you.

“Do you know anything about her mother maybe? I could probably pull together something if-”

“She’s dead.” 

You blinked, mouth gaping slightly.

“She was a prostitute. Most likely gone from all the drugs up her system by now. That’s why I needed you. Our old doctor… left his position early.” 

You watched him get up from his spot, clearly done with the conversation, but something about what he said seemed to strike a chord in you.

“So you brought me to make sure-“

“The baby wasn’t affected. You weren’t a doctor but you did just fine I suppose.” He finished, back to you and he poured himself another one.

“Max, do you know what a Nightingale oath is?”

“Een nacht wat (a night what)?” You continued on, though you had a feeling you knew what he said.

“It’s an oath some of us take. To protect and to serve.”

You got up, feet pattering against the ground as you got closer to him.

“I don’t think anyone really abides by it anymore-“ He let out a short laugh, clearly unbelieving of your words as you continued, “-but maybe, just maybe, that’s why I haven’t gone home just yet.”

“Are you sure you want this Y/n? When you could just as easily leave and go home now?” He muttered softly, hunched over the countertop as your hand met his back.

“I’m sure. You need the help Max. You can’t deny it.”

“Then so be it nachtegaal. I can’t stop you when you’ve made up your mind.” He murmured, steely blue eyes meeting your own as he held your gaze.

“Maybe, once you’re well enough, you can finally form some connection to the child.” You sighed, looking at him. “I promise it.”

“You’re very confident in this plan of yours.”

You smiled inwardly at his words. “Why else would I be here if I wasn’t?”

[nelo0wesker]

Who is she?

Relationship: Armando Aretas X Reader

Tagging: @nobodygetsza

——————

Dorn is tirelessly working on tracking down the elusive drug kingpin, who has managed to stay one step ahead at every turn. The breakthrough comes when the kingpin makes a critical error kidnapping a girl Dorn had been keeping track of because the kingpin's underlings seemed to always be around her area.

“Hey guys I got a hit!” Dorn yells out to the others. The others go to the computer. Dorn plays the video of the women being kidnapped and put in a car. License plate being showed in the video. “Dorn track those plates” Mike says watching the video ends with the car driving away. Dorn nods and goes to track the car plates looking to where it goes in security cameras that are on the streets.

Armando watches Dorn work on the computer as he turns his head seeing his girlfriend being kidnapped in the video. He knows she’s alright. That girl was tough and knew how to defend herself. He remembers how she beat his ass once. They were on enemy sides at the time but in the end he won her heart and she betrayed her family to date him.

—-

“Got it” Dorn says, showing everyone the warehouse they took the women too. “We have to get there fast. Who knows what those men have done to that girl” Marcus says with disgust thinking of all the horrible outcomes that could happen if they don’t get there fast enough.

Mike nodded at what Marcus said looking at Armando for a quick second. He noticed how his son couldn’t seem to stop looking at the women that were kidnapped. He has a suspicion he knows her but Mike didn’t question his son about it. He’ll question him when they get the girl out of there and home.

“Alright lady and gentlemen there’s a girl that needs saving. We have to do this fast and quickly” Mike tells out and everyone nods their heads as Armando smirks thinking how you didn't really need saving. If anyone needs saving it’s that kingpin and his underlings.

Everyone grabs their vest and weapons and goes into the car driving to the warehouse

—-

Outside of the warehouse team AMMO could hear multiple gunshots, yelling, and fighting. Marcus and Mike look at eachother confused. Actually everyone was confused about what was going on. Armando just smirks as he goes to the warehouse with the rest of team AMMO behind him and goes into the warehouse just to witness you beating the shit out of some of the kingpin underlings.

Marcus and Mike gave a shock look watching how you effortlessly took out 6 of the kingpins underlings with just hands. You swiftly grab a gun from the enemies belt and shoot the others with persistent aim.

“Who the hell is this girl?!” Marcus says shocked watching you specifically take out everyone. Everyone else was questioning the same thing as Marcus except Armando.

You sigh as you drop the last enemy thinking how it wasn’t really a fight. You turn and smiles brightly seeing Armando and goes to him and hugs him tightly. “Armand!” She yells out and kisses him on the lips.

Mike looks at his son confused and shocked just like everyone else. Armando smiles and turns to his father and team AMMO. “Oh her. This is Y/N. My girlfriend” he says casually

“You're what!?” Everyone yells in shock. “Where the hell did you find her?” Marcus asked him. Armando thinks on what he’s going to say as he looks down at you seeing the smirk you had. “That’s a long story” he tells him. “Tell me I got time!” Marcus says following Armando as he walks out with you. “Armando tell us you got some explaining to do!” Mike yells chasing his son and you wonder how the hell yall met.

Kelly, Rita, and Dorn watch the four walk ahead still in shock. “Anyone know he had a girlfriend?” Dorn asks the two women next to him watching how Marcus and Mike chase you and Armando. Rita shakes her head no. “Nope,” Kelly says, popping the p. “Any guesses how he met her?” Rita asks the two. Dorn and Kelly look at each other then Rita. “Have no idea. But Armando has the story” Dorn says and goes to follow the four ahead of them. Hearing the yelling of Mike and Marcus demanding an explanation and watching how you and Armando ignoring the two talking to each other.

[thejollywriter]

IT'S TIME TO LAUNCH THE BOOK

WELCOME FRIENDS, TO THE BEGINNING OF AN ADVENTURE! Allow me to introduce to you, DELILAH JONES; free-lance Robin Hood and bad-ass extraordinaire.

In the cyberpunk future of The Redwood Files, Delilah Jones is half film-noire private detective, and half western-gunslinger, who rides into a lawless town and fights the bullies and the bastards that hurt innocent folks.

This anthology contains SIX, count 'em SIX short stories and novellas detailing Delilah's Adventures.

Through a Dream, Lethally; When tech CEO Michael Lense decides to hijack the soft-RAM in his employees heads in order to make people do his bidding, things can get awful, FAST. Being forced, without your consent, to be an assassin or a thief or a sex worker, and more. But Lense also has the city under-thumb. Only Delilah's got the brute force to break Lense's control, and free the city from his cruel influence.

Happy Endings, Guaranteed; Delilah has a partner, and after a long day of nonsense, is looking forward to visiting them at work to unwind. Only to get to the club where her partner works, and discover that they've been KIDNAPPED! Delilah races around the city, squaring up with every underworld hard-ass she comes across following every lead to find her partner. Except nothing is what it seems, and a simple (but tragic) kidnapping turns out to be way more nefarious than Delilah expected. . .

Delilah's Heart; recovering from the last adventure weeks later, Delilah meets a handsome butch at a dive bar. Things between the two show promise, but the butch gets called back to work by an abusive bastard who violates and exploits his employees. The butch asks Delilah for help, and as she digs into it, discovers a deeply connected mafia bookmaker who uses that underground protection to kill and exploit people without fear of consequences. Delilah's the only one who can bring justice down on this bastard, but it threatens a gang war if she does. . .

Gutter Medicine; a gang of outta-town skinheads robs an impoverished clinic in a rough neighborhood. Delilah digs into the theft, and promises to recover the medicine, only to discover that the outta-towners are stirring up trouble to pave the way for an invasion from the South. A Kingpin from Los Angeles is hungry for expansion, and Redwood is fertile ground. Unless Delilah can stop the gang, and convince the Kingpin it'd be too expensive to expand beyond the safe borders of LA.

Restitution; Delilah's robbing a rich billionaire's museum-like mansion one night when she's caught by an unlikely sentry, a very old man who'd had plans of trying to embarrass the billionaire for reneging on a deal, and leaving the old man destitute. Delilah invites him to tell his story, and she volunteers to see justice done, according to Delilah's exacting standards.

In a Name?; every trans person's name comes from a personal place and an intimate choice. This story is about a young thief, with big dreams and a hard head, how she picked her name, and the day she was reborn into Delilah-fucking-Jones.

These stories have literally been years in the making. Some of them are personal, all of them are personal favorites, and this anthology is a collection I've worked very hard on.

Genre fiction is deeply important to me, and I love bringing queer characters to this space. Every story published in this book appeared first, both as ideas and in rough-and-final drafts on my patreon.

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[antiquarianfics]

Accidental pt. 5

What happens when you accidentally kidnap the exact man you were looking for?

pairing: mob!bucky x reader

warnings: canon level violence, kidnapping, profanity

a/n: lol i updated this. it’s a little bit of a date and a—oh, what’s this—new conflict? hehe. (is this enemies to lovers? it’s a little enemies to lovers.)

note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.

You do not have permission to copy, translate, or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.

part 4

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

You take a few steps past Bucky, turn around, and walk back to the table. You stop right beside Bucky and hold out your hand. Bucky looks at your hand outstretched to him and trails his eyes up to you, and you watch as he carefully searches your face.

“Hi,” you say, smiling. “I’m Y/N. Mind if I join you for dinner?”

Bucky’s face breaks out into a grin as he takes your hand, grasping it firmly as he shakes it. “Bucky,” he greets, playing along. “I wouldn’t mind at all.”

—

“So, yeah. Maybe it was mean, but she deserved it,” you say, finishing a story about Ellie stealing your toys and you locking her in your closet for an hour as children. You take a sip of your wine as Bucky lets out a mirthful laugh.

“That’s brutal, Doll,” he teases you with a grin. You shrug.

“You’re one to talk, Mr. Mob Boss,” you tease him back. A thoughtful look crosses your face. “By the way, how did you become this kingpin of Brooklyn anyhow?”

Bucky scrunches his nose. “Firstly, let’s avoid the term “kingpin.” Wilson Fisk has taken to the name, and I have no intention of taking that from him. His title and Hell’s Kitchen is his.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise, but you nod slowly in understanding. There is, you realize, more politics to the mafia than you’d previously considered.

“But, to answer your question, I was born into it. My father was head of our family and in this business for years, his father years before that. It was always their intention for me to take over when I was old enough, and they, ah, groomed me for the job.”

You frown. “That’s terribly sad.”

Bucky shrugs.

“Did you ever want to be anything different? Like, when you were a kid?”

“No, I never really thought about it.”

“Really?” You challenge. “You never wanted to be an astronaut, or a firefighter, or president? Oh! Or a police officer? That would’ve been ironic!”

Bucky offers you a sad smile but shakes his head. “No, I always wanted to take over for my father. It’s what he wanted, so it’s what I wanted.”

You frown. “You don’t see how sad that is?”

“I do.”

“If you had a child, would you bring them up the same way?” You purse your lips and feel your heart rate quicken. His potential answer scares you (like you might see a future with him? Wait! Stop it!).

“No. Of course not. All of this,” he gestures vaguely, “would be unfair to push onto a child. If I have children, I will make sure they have every opportunity to be whatever they want.”

“Even if it’s a police officer hellbent on taking down the mafia?”

“Even a police officer hellbent on taking down the mafia,” he agrees with a smirk. You giggle.

“What about you?” He asks. “What did you want to be when you were little?”

You feel your cheeks heat up as a blush takes over your face.

“Um,” you stutter. “Promise not to laugh?”

Bucky pulls a face. “Why? Is it embarrassing? Did you want to be a nun? Or did you want to be a super spy who kidnapped the head of the Brooklyn mob?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Okay, fine,” he raises his hands in surrender. “Fine. I promise.”

“I wanted to be…” you trail off, mumbling the end. Bucky leans forward, holding his hand up to his ear.

“What was that? I missed the end there.”

“I wanted to be a princessastronautpresident,” you say quickly this time, letting your words blend together.

“What?” Bucky asks again, but he’s smirking now and you suspect he heard you.

“I wanted to be a princess astronaut president, okay? Happy now?” You ask, reaching for your wine only to find you’d already drank it all. You frown. Bucky laughs.

“That career covers two different forms of government… in space?” He half states, half questions. You simply nod.

“And what about it? At least it’s legal,” you challenge. Again, Bucky’s hands go up next to his head in surrender.

“Well?” He asks.

“‘Well’ what?”

“Did you become a princess astronaut president?”

“No,” you say, dead serious. “I lost the election on Mars. I’m going to try Jupiter next time, though.”

Bucky laughs once more: you note he’s been laughing a lot throughout your date.

“So what do you do?”

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t know everything about you.”

“I thought you would have looked me up.”

“Maybe you intrigue me enough I want to learn about you naturally.”

“I’m an investigative journalist.”

Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up. He looks genuinely surprised.

“Really? That’s all?”

You quirk your head. “Yes?”

“Sorry. I just thought with your… erm—skill set—you were a Green Beret, or something.”

“You flatter me, Barnes, but all I did was hit you really hard in the head with a gun I bought scarily easily at a department store I buy my groceries and drag you to a building that’s been on the market for years. Nothing about that was exactly special ops.”

He hums and finishes his own wine.

“Doesn’t explain your interrogation skills.”

“I’m a journalist. I interview people for a living—particularly people who don’t necessarily want to be interviewed.”

“How’d you know where to find me?”

“I didn’t. You were an accident, remember?”

“You wound me,” he says. You shrug.

“Even so,” he continues, “you knew about my bar. You knew it was connected to the mafia—your sister’s disappearance. How?”

“Is this a date or an interrogation, James?”

“Professional curiosity.”

Irritated, you respond. “Still, I am a journalist. I knew about the connection because I had a good hunch. I’d been working on a piece that led me to the bar; I smelt a connection. Or, I hoped there was one.”

Bucky leans back in his seat, his blue eyes piercing your person. You shift uncomfortably. He seems to accept your response, though, but the subject is far from dropped.

“What’s your piece about?”

“Nothing.”

“Clearly it’s something.”

“You can read all about it when it’s published.”

“Why so defensive? Is it about me?”

“You flatter yourself, Barnes.”

He shrugs. You sigh.

“I received an anonymous tip not too long ago that the mafia was picking up promising prodigy students. 4 or 5 have gone missing in the last 6 months, and my tip told me they may be hanging around your bar.”

Bucky’s face is stoic, and you feel yourself become suspicious of the well dressed, charming criminal in front of you.

“I connected the dots between the situation and the location: the mafia. When Ellie went missing, too? Well, she didn’t quite meet the M.O., sure, but it was all I had to go off of.” You shrug.

“You think I’m kidnapping university students?”

“No, but I wouldn’t be surprised if you… uh. Made them an offer they couldn’t refuse?”

“The Godfather? Really? A little on the nose, no?”

“Look, James. I was doing my job.”

“Where did the tip come from?”

“I don’t know. It was anonymous. Are you done interrogating me now?” Your tone becomes irritable, and you cringe slightly at the bite behind your words.

Bucky sighs, “Yes. Sorry. This evening has been lovely; I’m sorry for ruining it. I’ll take you home?”

You purse your lips and nod.

The two of you stand and gather your belongings before walking back through security where your weapons are returned to you. Bucky then escorts you to the car and drives you home.

After he walks you to the door, Bucky stops and looks at you, hands gently falling to your shoulders.

“Y/N, look. I’m sorry for the first degree; I really did have a good time tonight. I hope you’ll consider doing this again.” Bucky’s voice leaks sincerity, his eyes promise it.

You smile somewhat sadly and it doesn’t reach your eyes. “We’ll see, James.”

He nods. “I understand.” He pulls out a business card with nothing but a phone number on it and hands it to you. “My personal cell,” he explains. “If you reach out, we’ll do this again. If not, I’ll take the hint.”

You nod slightly as he leans forward and pecks your cheek. It’s soft, barely a whisper of a kiss. Then, he turns and returns to his car, driving off. You watch until you can’t see his car anymore. Finally, you turn to your door and fumble around with the key.

You turn the lock and hear your deadbolt unlock right as you hear a whoosh next to your ear, your eyes drift to the side where, stuck in the wood of your doorframe, is an arrow with a note tied to it. Carefully, anxiously, you pull the arrow out and unroll the note. You nearly choke on air when you read it:

I left the tip because Barnes messed with what was mine. Best not get cozy with the beast, sweetheart. I’d hate to think I mistrusted you—underestimated your usefulness.

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

@cjand10 @vicmc624 @mostlymarvelgirl @livingoutsidethetardis @onceithough @thedonswife13 @kaithesimps-blog @buckitostan @julvrs @unaxv @searchn0tfound @10ava01 @ordelixx @pinkpantheris @hi-im-fan-trash @bubblegumbeautyqueen

[fairlyang]

Kitty 🕷️

you've never had anyone able to stop you when doing crime, until now

w/c: 5K

pairing: miguel o’hara x blackcat!reader

tags: 18+ smut. stealing, getting caught, chasing, flirting, teasing, falling into temptation, exhibitionism, making out, fingering, blowjob, back blown out, choking, unprotected sex

notes: my fav fics bc I LOVE black cat she’s so hot and I learned sm about her when I was researching

The notorious Black Cat of New York, loved all things shiny, kicking ass, and using her seducing skills to the best of her ability when needed. Never exactly aiming to have turned out like her father but what can one do when kidnapped by Kingpin and are forcibly meant to be his Guinea pig?

Getting created to be a super soldier that was also a seductress? What else would this have led to?

On the bright side who else was able to rob banks and also be able to stop other criminals from doing so before she gets to hit them herself? None other than yourself, of course.

Obviously no one was able to stop the infamous Black Cat or retrieve all the things she'd steal. The cops were completely and utterly useless, slow and dumb. So you always got away and were able to profit off all the high end jewelry you'd steal.

You were going to hit up a jewelry store, to steal a few brand new diamonds for yourself. In your oh so casual Black Cat attire that consisted of a black spandex suit with the matching mask covering your eyes, along with the realistic long silver wig.

You were somewhat unrecognizable, but it wasn't like anyone from your personal life was gonna be robbing banks or jewelry stores. There'd be no reason for anyone in your life to see you when you were doing Black Cat activities.

And with no one to stop you, you were golden. Or were you?

I quickly turned off the security system in the jewelry store from the alley right next to it, I grabbed my bag of goodies and I hid my special tablet behind some trash before quickly going inside by the side door. It was vacant, as expected.

I went to the back of the store and look at the cases with the newest necklaces and rings embedded with shiny diamonds. I trail a finger along the glass and look down at the casing filled with only diamond rings.

I walked along the back of the store, looking at everything, the shiniest of rings and earrings until I spotted the most gorgeous necklace.

Filled with diamonds shaped like flower petals all along the neckline with a leaf shape hanging down with more diamonds around the shape, with a red ruby sitting perfectly right in the middle of it. My eyes flicker with admiration and want, I needed it.

I take my bag off from my shoulder and place it on the floor quickly opening it to grab something to open it. Then I stop and stand up walking to the back of the case and scoff. The key.

What kind of dumbasses leave the fucking key out?

I shrug and roll my eyes unlocking the little door and take the necklace out carefully. No alarm.

Odd but I'm not gonna question it.

I close the case and walk back to my bag and stuff it in one of its pockets then zip it up. I pick it up putting the strap back on my shoulder and walk around the store, stopping when something caught my eye.

I walk over to it and chuckle. How ironic... a gold necklace with a cat hanging out and yet another red ruby being held by it's little collar.

How could I not?

I grab a small tool with a pointy end and walk to the back of the counter. I kneel down and quickly unlock the little door and in just a few seconds it clicks open. I slide the door open and grab the necklace admiring the pretty ruby.

I stand up and grab a few other pieces then walk around the counter and back to my bag. I put them all in another pocket carefully then close it shut.

I wrap my bag around my shoulders and head towards the side door, not really wanting anything else. I open the door and close it quietly before making my way to pick up my tablet from where I left it.

Sure enough it was there and I quickly turned the security system back on before climbing on top of the roof.

I walk along the edge of the roof looking at the view, admiring all the buildings and the glowing moon right above them. I jumped off roof to roof for about half an hour, staring out, as I make my way home.

I was hopping off rooftops while admiring the moonlight and feeling the nice cold breeze. I was one block away from my apartment building when I heard a loud thump behind me. I quickly withdraw my claws and turn around, ready to pounce but I look up and see a huge man in front of me, in some kind of superhero suit? "And who might you be?" I ask, looking at the mysterious man up and down. Damn....

"That doesn't concern you." He snarls and I lift my hands up in fake defense.

"Okay sensitive-" I say and snicker.

"Shut up-"

"Okay well if it doesn't concern me then I'll just be on my way." I say and turn to walk away but his hand quickly grips my shoulder and turns me back around.

His hand then went to my back and some talons appeared out of his arms and he brought one up to my neck. I raised an eyebrow and chuckle, "ah so that's how this is gonna be...."

He's about to say something when I quickly shove him off me and lift my knee up to his crotch, hitting him hard, he groans and his grip on me loosened giving me a chance to quickly escape. I push him off me and make a run for it, jumping onto the next roof while he curses under his breath before I soon heard him land on the same rooftop, but I was about to jump to the next one already.

"Shit-" I curse under my breath and run as fast as I could and jump on the absolute last bit of every rooftop.

Suddenly I feel something wrap around my body, I look down, widening my eyes looking at some kind of red rope and the stranger pulling it making me step towards him. I groan and roll my eyes, "this isn't very nice y'know..."

"Good, it's not meant to be." He mutters walking to me and quickly grabs the straps of my bag, slipping it off my shoulders making me growl.

"Don't-"

"Cute, you think you can tell me what to do." He says, his tone cocky. The nerve.

I shut my eyes and slowly cut through a piece of the rope with my claws, I did it as slowly as I can to not alert him in anyway, let him have his little victory before I snatch my things back and go home. "So who are you?" I ask, annoyed and wanting to fill the silence.

He unzips my bag in front of me and takes out the flower petal diamond necklace first, I bite my lip and roll my eyes. Oh how badly I wanted to just claw my way out of this-

But no, not yet..

"Ah so the little cat likes diamonds huh?" He tuts making me smirk.

"Only girl's best friend." I say and pout, "and you're still gonna take 'em away from me?"

"'Course," he starts then grins, "don't think you can play me with your little games and antics, kitty I'm not gonna fall for it." He says looking at me sternly.

I smirk and shrug, "Every man has his own weak point."

He scoffs and shakes his head, "You're unbelievable."

"Unbelievably irresistible?" I say in a soft voice making him chuckle.

"You just don't stop do you?" He mutters and looks at what else is in my bag.

He pulls out my tablet and I bite my lip, cutting through another piece of rope. He holds it up to me and I just smile, "find anything you like?"

He shakes his head in disbelief and mutters something unintelligible and I just flutter my lashes at him, just gotta keep him distracted for as long as I can.

He's definitely not a cop, some kind of superhero? Like those corny movies? I shake my thoughts away and cut through another piece.

Just a few more and I'll be able to wiggle out...

"So stranger you're not gonna introduce yourself? Don't you have any manners?" I tease and smirk when he rolls his eyes.

He sighs and puts everything back where he found it, zipping every pocket and swings the straps over his shoulder. My eyes make their way to my bag but then land on his body. Jesus his biceps- broad shoulders- holy fuck the way he'd look so good on top-

"Spiderman." He says abruptly interrupting my thoughts.

"What?" I say and blink, confused.

"Names Spiderman." He says and I chuckle.

"I'm sorry-" I say and laugh, "like a tarantula spider?" I ask and he nods.

"What were you bit by a spider?" I joke and laugh.

He shakes his head and smirks through his mask. Hmm wonder what he looks like-

"I wasn't but others were." He says nonchalantly and I just raise an eyebrow.

"Okay... well that's... something." I say still confused and shrug.

My claws cut through another two pieces and I sigh, "well Spiderman, it was nice meeting you but I really gotta head home."

He raises an eyebrow at me and with a singular pull on the ropes they all fell to the floor, he looked at me mouth agape and shocked. "Would really love to stay and chat but I'm not really in the mood to seduce my way out tonight." I say casually and shrug.

I withdraw my own talons pointing it to his chest only lightly grazing his suit, and quickly take my bag off him and wrap it across my shoulder. I trace along his collarbone slowly while staring at his masked eyes, "but maybe we can do that in the future." I whisper giving him a wink, before quickly running to the edge and jump off the roof.

I landed on a set of stairs of the random apartment building we were on top of, I quickly hop off the side of them and slide down a pipe before sprinting down the alley and running towards my apartment.

I somehow made it without being followed, I made it to side of the building since it was on a corner. I unzipped my bag and took out a jacket before quickly putting it on and zipping it up. I take off my mask and stuff it in my pocket then grab my keys and go through the front door.

I walk towards the elevator and press the button and it immediately opens up. I walk in and press the button to my floor and it moves up. I sigh and lean against the wall, and not a single scratch on me.

It dinged and I quickly walk out and turn to the right, walking towards my apartment. I unlock the door, walking in and place the bag on the floor carefully before closing the door and putting the two locks on them. Another successful robbery.

And thus the Black Cat finally had someone worthy of being able to capture her. Sure it wasn't completely successful on Spiderman's behalf but it was the closest anyone has even gotten.

That robbery wasn't your first of almost getting caught, if anything it was the start of a long lasting game of cat and mouse.

Sometimes he'd go easy on you. Sometimes you wouldn't try so hard to escape. But every time, both of you would keep your interactions going for as long as you could, not getting enough of each other.

Both feeling the upmost attraction to one another but Spiderman doesn't want to fall into temptation while Black Cat continues to press on.

The thrill of it all being almost too much for both parties, but neither could help but want to continue this back and forth game.

Will Black Cat continue to press on or give up?

Will Spiderman stay strong or fall into his deepest desires?

"Spider! So glad you could make it tonight!" I say enthusiastically looking up at my new favorite person to stumble upon when I'm out stealing.

"Well I can't just let you steal more now can I, kitty?" He says looking down at me.

I bite my lip and can't help but admire his body again, like I do every time. just completely ignoring what he said. "You look good Spidey, have you been working out recently?" I ask as I place my bag down on the floor of the roof we were on.

"Maybe a bit." He says and gets off the edge of the roof and steps in front of me, still holding my gaze.

"Getting prettier kitty?" He says taking another step closer to me as I smile.

"Just for you." I whisper and quickly wrapping my arms behind his neck and lean up.

I felt his breath on my lips as I looked into his masked eyes, curiosity getting the best of me as I bring a hand to his neck and grabbing on the end of his mask slowly bringing it up. He instantly brings a hand up to stop me but I swat him away and only bring the mask above his lips.

Such pretty pink plump lips.

I let my thumb lightly graze his bottom lip, I feel it shake a little making me grin. "You could just give in y'know." I whisper and move my hand to go down and trail along his shoulder.

He chuckles and shakes his head, "you know I can't."

"But we both know you want to." I murmur and move my head to look at his neck.

I leave the smallest of soft and open-mouthed kisses I can give as I feel his breathing speed up and his hands going back to grip my waist. I go up and lightly nibble on his earlobe making him moan and tilt his head back. I pull away and go back down to his neck, leaving wet kisses along his warm skin before I find the perfect spot to suck on.

I suck gently on his skin then let my tongue graze against his skin then leave a kiss on the new bruise. He lets out a moan and I feel him grip my waist a bit harder making me giggle. "Can't even deny it, can you Spidey?" I tease and he shakes his head no.

I leave kisses all along his neck then up his throat and against his Adam's apple, I felt the vibration of a groan against my mouth making me shiver with pure excitement as I squeezed my thighs together. "You know I can't kitty." He purrs making me bite my lip.

I pull away from him and he brings a hand up from my waist and takes off the rest of his mask. I widen my eyes but before I could properly admire him, he smashed our lips together in a very hungry kiss.

I kiss him back with the same intensity, my hands going up to his hair as his went down to my waist, bringing me as close to him as possible. I tug on his hair making him groan so I slide my tongue in ready to explore every inch but I soon felt his tongue on mine.

I felt my breathing getting unsteady quickly and felt butterflies all over my skin as the kiss was growing more passionate. I let him slide his tongue into my mouth when I felt a hard smack against my ass making me moan. His movements become more frantic and fast, I felt both of his hands squeezing and spanking my ass making me whimper against his mouth.

He pulls away since we were both starting to lose our breath, I try to calm myself down as he continued smacking my ass, surely making it red under my spandex. "You're so pretty." He murmurs and moves his head down to kiss my neck gently.

I let out a shaky breath and feel my eyes flutter as I tilt my head back to give him more access. "So pretty." He murmurs against my skin making me moan and squeeze my thighs.

"I need you-" he purrs, moving his hand to my inner thigh.

"Then have me." I breathe out and he groans.

He reached for the zipper by my neck and slowly brings it down. It goes down my chest as he continues dragging it down and stops at my stomach. He looks up and moans as I take my arms out of the suit, revealing my bare tits to him. His hands immediately went to squeeze them not having a care in the world that we were out in public on a random roof of a building.

He squeezed them both at the same time then started pinching both nipples making me yelp because he did it too hard so fast, he muttered a quick apology before he goes down and takes turns sucking on each sensitive nub. My hands went up to his hair as his were pulling the rest of my suit down, "eager are we?" I tease before letting out a moan as he reached down to rub to my covered pussy.

"You can't blame me," he mutters then pulls away and going down to his knees, "it's not my fault you look this fucking good." He says leaving the smallest of kisses on my inner thighs.

I let out a shaky breath and move back to lean against a pole, he scoots forward and leaves a kiss right over my clothed clit. "Spider-"

He hums as his hands slide up and quickly brings my panties down. He gets them off my legs and spreads my legs, gently blowing air along my now exposed pussy. He moans as he brings two fingers and gently rubs along my folds, my slickness enveloping them. "God you're so fucking wet for me baby." He mutters under his breath and I feel my legs shake.

I nod and bite my lip, taking the sight below me in awe. He looked so fucking good.

"Might just have to take you like this baby..." he murmurs before his mouth finally makes contact with my pussy.

"Oh fuck-" I moan and bring my hand down to grip his curls.

He starts devouring it as if it were his last meal and with one finger teasing my entrance making me buck my hips around his face. "Please-" I whimper and slowly move my hips.

He moans against me making me let out a whine because of how delicious the vibration felt and I feel his finger slip in, and slowly make its way inside. My walls clenching against his finger as he quickly shoved it then back out and back in again.

He repeated this a few times and right when I was going to complain when he slowed down, he added another finger and actually started fucking me right.

The only thing being heard on the rooftop being my moans and the sounds that were coming from between my legs, everything else was silent. And thank god for that.

He pumps them inside at a faster pace and curls his fingers up making sure to hit that spot oh so perfectly. "Fuck- just like that Spider-" I moan out, leaning my head back.

"So fucking dirty-" he mumbles not stopping his pace.

"Huh letting me do this to you out in public kitty? Don't even care if we get caught? You like this don't you?" He murmurs and I bite my lip, nodding as he looks up at me.

"Look at me and tell me how much you love it." He demands, going deeper making me a moaning mess above him.

I look down and lock my gaze to his eyes, "I love it so much- fuck! F-feels so good." I whimper and lean back on to the pole.

"That's a good girl." He purrs and I feel myself clench against him, holy fuck- 

He then leans in and starts sucking on my clit hungrily as he continues fucking me. I move my hips against his face and clasp my hand over my mouth feeling my orgasm quickly approaching. "S-Spider-"

Instead of responding he adds a third finger, fucking me deeper as all my arousal spills out. My legs began shaking and I tried to pull away but he quickly wrapped his other arm around me making me stay still. I move my hand away from my mouth and just let out bundles of cries as my orgasm hits.

He slowed down and kept fucking me letting me ride out my high while leaving me absolutely breathless. My heart was beating fast and my breathing was hard, I was trying my hardest to calm myself down but it just felt so good.

He finally stopped moving his fingers and just let them deep inside me, only slowly pulling them out. He pulls away from my soaked clit and looks up at me with a smile, my juices glistening on his lips and dribbling down his chin.

I chuckle and give him a lazy smile as he finally pulls his fingers out, I instantly feel more of my juices come out and I squeeze my thighs together. Can't just leak all over this roof....

I finally feel my breathing being steady and widen at the sight of him sucking on his fingers, having a taste of me. I roll my eyes back and moan, he looked so fucking good.

He slips his fingers out and gets up from his knees, standing up in front of me, "You taste fucking amazing kitty." He groans and I immediately pull him in for a kiss.

He moans against my mouth as I get a taste of myself as well, surprisingly sweet. I let him slide his tongue into my mouth as I have a hand travel down to his hard bulge.

I lightly rub it as I kiss him back hungrily and only start stroking it when he moans in my mouth. I pull away and grin, lips trailing down his mouth, to his chin, jaw, then neck. I kiss around his neck then suck on the soft skin before licking it gently.

I continue stroking him through his suit and the moans escaping his lips were just so delicious to my ears while I kept leaving marks on his neck. "You gotta get rid of this suit Spider." I murmur and he moans in agreement.

He pulls away from me and taps the back of his neck and suddenly the bottom half of his suit disintegrated revealing his thick and long cock spring up against his stomach. I bite my lip and without a second thought drop down to my knees.

I immediately take hold of it and start licking the precum off the tip, making sure to get every last drop. I don't waste anymore time and take him into my mouth, trying to take as much of him as I can. Only able to take half at first and already gagging had me thinking of how this would be a tight fit.

He was going to make me feel so tight as if it were the first time all over again but maybe he'd fit to perfect and fuck me so good. I felt drool drip down my chin and I realized I was taking more of him now.

I pulled out and look up at him with innocent eyes before sticking my tongue out and slap the tip on it. He groans and takes hold of my ponytail, leading me back to taking him.

I moan as he takes control and slowly thrusts his hips into my face, making me more and more wet. I closed my eyes and moved my head as well now taking him all the way that his trimmed hairs lightly tickled my nose. "Just like that- fuck just like kitty." He moans out and thrusts again making me gag.

He pulled on my hair and made me go back to his tip then thrusted his hips forward, then back until he decided to just start fucking my face. I let it happen and just look up at him all teary eyed as my throat was getting fucked.

Suddenly he pulls away and grabs my arm making me stand up with him. He wipes the drool off the side of my cheeks and then flips me over and bends me making me take hold of the pole.

He makes me arch my back and stick my ass out when I feel him position himself to my entrance. He moved his tip up and down my folds even to my clit then down to my aching hole then needed to be filled up again.

As if hearing my thoughts he slowly pushed himself inside making me immediately clench against his tip and having us both moan. He already felt so big and he was only barely inside...

I took a deep breath in then let it out and he takes hold of my hips as I grip on to the pole tightly. He pushes himself in and I could only guess it was about halfway before he slammed the rest in. "Fuck!!!" I cry out and move my ass against him earning myself a hard smack.

"You're so fucking tight." He groans and rubs my skin as he pulls back then slams himself into me again.

I moan and lean my head against the pole as he slowly starts to fuck me. After a few slow thrusts and he notices I've gotten comfortable and use to his size he finally starts going faster.

I bit my lip hard really trying to stay as quiet as I can, almost feeling bad if we wake anyone up but also the thought going away immediately when I feel a hand against my throat. I breathe in and quickly regret it for obvious reasons even though his grip wasn't too tight.

He then forces my throat back, making me stand up straight as he fucks me harder. I roll my eyes back and against his hard chest, his hand still wrapped around my throat as I forcibly hold back moans as he pounds into me. "God this pussy feels so good." He moans making me breathe out and hold on to his arm wanting a release.

He groans and fucks me even harder, his grip on my throat now being slightly tighter. A combination of a mewl and a cry escape my lips making him chuckle as he brings his lips to my ear, gently nibbling on it.

His lips then went down to the side of my neck and his other hand around my waist. His hand then trailed down to my stomach and he pressed it above my belly button making me clench.

He lets out of my throat and I let out cries as he continues pressing on my stomach, it feeling unbearably strange but good. "Fuck!! Spider- fuck- feels s-so- g-good." I choke out and he grunts.

"You're taking me so well baby- fuck- feel that? Mmm feel how much you're taking right now?" He moans into my ear running a shiver down my spine.

He brings his hand down to my waist while the other stayed where he was buried deep inside me. I'd never felt this before and it just felt so good. Also had me noticing how I was able to take all of him at once.

"Please- fuck me harder- deeper please." I moan out and he groans.

He does just that and slams his hips into mine making me cry out and hold on to his arms. "Fuck-"

I felt the all too familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach as he continued ramming into me earning all kinds of noises leaving my mouth. "I'm so close-"

He holds onto me tighter and just this size difference alone might've thrown me over the edge if I really thought about it considering how huge he was compared to me.  "Let go baby. I wanna feel you cum around me." He murmurs and I nod.

With one final deep thrust my orgasm hit hard and i felt my legs almost give up but I was held tightly and didn't worry about falling. I felt my body shake as he shot his cum deep inside me and I could hear his moans in my ear.

I leaned my head against his chest and I felt his chin on top of my head, and I think he kissed it? I wasn't sure if I felt that right but I was too fucked out to question it.

He slowly pulls out and I could have swore I felt him twitch inside me as he was pulling out. Finally I felt his tip pop out and I instantly feel my pussy gush out all his cum. I chuckle and look down as it spills to the floor, guess it was gonna leak anyway...

"You took me so well kitty." He purrs into my ear and I grin turning my head to look at him.

"You fucked me so well spider," I murmur looking deeply into his eyes, "even better than I'd have ever imagined." I whisper and he crashes his lips onto mine.

I kiss back and turn my body to face him as his hands explore my body while mine go behind his neck. "We've gotten so this more often." I murmur against his mouth and he just nods.

"Absolutely." He mutters and smacks my ass.

[maxdibert]

It shouldn’t surprise me that the Arcane fandom has a hefty dose of internalized misogyny, but honestly, it’s exhausting to constantly see how female characters are judged, condemned, and demonized for the simple "sin" of being complex, layered, and morally questionable, while the fandom favorite is a drug lord who used a populist, nationalist rhetoric to justify child exploitation and drug trafficking that poisoned the very people he claimed to defend. Yes, I’m talking about Silco. The same Silco who threw a little girl in prison and took her younger sister, making her believe her older sister didn’t care about her anymore. The same Silco who projected his traumas onto a kid and manipulated her into being his weapon. The same Silco who posed as the "people’s champion" while being one of the main reasons the people were dying in the first place.

And don’t get me wrong—I love Silco. He’s a fantastic villain, and his relationship with Jinx is as fascinating as it is deeply uncomfortable at times. But it feels incredibly cynical to see people excuse all the atrocities he committed, or at least try to understand them, while they spent all of season one attacking characters like Mel for being ambitious and power-hungry, doing morally questionable things. Sorry, but none of Mel’s actions in season one even come close to Silco’s level of ethical depravity with the whole shimmer situation, yet Mel got dragged.

Vi—perhaps the series’ ultimate punching bag of suffering—who lost her parents, stepped up to take care of her sister, carried the responsibility of being the eldest (as tasked by Vander to protect the group), lost her "siblings" and "father" in one night, got wrongfully imprisoned as a kid, spent years in jail for nothing, only to come out and see that her sister had turned into a monster and that the man responsible for their adoptive father’s death was now the kingpin of the Undercity—was treated like absolute crap by the fandom. Why? Because she didn’t understand or accept that her younger sister was suddenly cool with a man who was poisoning the city? The same man who killed their father figure? I remember people calling Silco the "Father of the Year" and Vi the "Worst Sister of the Decade," and I was genuinely floored. Like, as a meme, sure, it’s funny. But as an actual take? The level of cognitive dissonance is wild.

And now, in this season, of course, the hate is all directed at Caitlyn. Why? Because instead of being the idealistic nepo baby who dreams of coexistence like in season one, she’s dealing with severe PTSD after being kidnapped and witnessing a missile nearly obliterate her mother. And people just can’t seem to grasp that. They can understand a man going from revolutionary to drug lord, using the idea of freedom and the people’s anger to expand his shady business and exploit children, but they can’t understand a young woman becoming incredibly violent out of a thirst for revenge.

What these reactions tell me is that men can be the absolute worst scum narrative writing has ever birthed, and it’s fine because everyone will bend over backwards to understand their motivations or at least where they’re coming from. But if we’re talking about women who aren’t compliant, who overreact, who struggle to manage their emotions or trauma, or who don’t behave the way women are "supposed" to behave, there’s no room for understanding. No excuses, no empathy. They’re just bitches, villains, or—like people are now saying about Caitlyn—"fascists."

Look, the fact that people are calling Caitlyn a fascist while never using that term for Silco—who was literally a despot—isn’t just cognitive dissonance; it’s hypocrisy at its finest.

[softsan]

˚ 🥀⊹ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋, 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄. (𝐩𝐭.𝟏)

✉️ ・ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

✉️ ・ ── 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬: | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 |

✉️ ・ ── 𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 | 𝐲/𝐧'𝐬 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬

✉️ ・ ── 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Mafia AU, Angst, Kingpin!Taeyong, Queenpin!Y/N, Fem!Reader, Childhood friends, Betrayal, Enemies to lovers, Eventual Smut. ✉️ ・ ── 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧:  You were the only surviving heir of the old-time Mafia kingpin that had ruled the four territories. You were long thought to be dead, living the normal life you had always wanted...Until you run into a Taeyong, a formidable ghost from your past. You are then thrown back into the Mafia underbelly, reuniting with enemies you had hoped had forgotten you. Will you run away? Will you stand beside Taeyong, kingpin of the North, and be his queen? Or will you take your rightful revenge.

✉️ ・ ── 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Possessive Themes, Future Explicit Sexual Content, Murder, Kidnapping, Strangulation, Torture, Weapons, Graphic Violence, Heavy Angst, Explicit Language, Alcohol Consumption, Mentions of Drugs, Betrayal, Morally Grey Characters.

✉️ ・ ── 𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

Past. 

You felt all the air leave your lungs, your chest constricting as you tried to gasp for just one more breath. You heard the patter of your blood as it hit the hardwood floors.

“Y/N,” His desperate eyes plead. 

“What did you do to her?!” Your brother demanded, yanking against the chains that were secured around his wrists. 

“Good catch Taeyong!” One of your captors clapped his hand on Taeyong’s back.

You tried to lift your shoulders, but they refused to support the weight of your head. You were but a lifeless heap, carelessly discarded and left to slowly bleed out on the ground. The man’s sickening laughter echoed throughout the room, filling what was left of your heart with dread.  

“Do it,” His voice urged, “Kill her now.”

Present.

“Today will be different,” You stared at yourself in the mirror, “Today I will smile, and I’ll mean it.” Your eyes circled down to your neck, your confidence waning. 

“Come on!” Your roommate urged, “You can say it better than that.” 

Your shoulders slumped in defeat, “You make me say the same thing at the start of every semester.”

Your roommate clicked her tongue, looking up from her phone. “And I believe this semester is going to be fucking fantastic.” She pointed at your white dress that cut just above the knees. “Look, we’re both looking cuter than ever. We have a new apartment,” She pointed to the living room’s ceiling to exaggerate her point. “This is our second year at college, and you, my friend, are going to put yourself out there.”

You shook your head in dread. “I thought we agreed that in this household, you can be the party fiend, and I’ll be the one that spends her nights binging TV shows on Netflix.”

Your roommate Jen threw you a dirty look.

“Hey! Who else is going to keep the universe in balance.”

Your roommate rolled her eyes. “The world is not going to stop spinning on its axis if you go out once in a while.”

“I highly doubt that.” You mutter to yourself, earning a playful hit from your dear roommate.

You and your roommate Jennifer had been cohabitating with one another since you were both seventeen. Back then, it had been a struggle to find someone willing to share a space with a teenager. That coupled with the awful reputation your foster father and sister had garner for themselves, you weren’t exactly considered an ideal house mate. However, to your pleasant surprise Jen was equally in need of someone to cover half of her rent. 

You had somewhat known about Jen prior to living with her. She had been quite popular at your school, the social butterfly. Admittedly, you were a little suprised to hear she like you, had moved out on her own, yet you never pried. 

Despite, her cheerful demeanor, you sensed a sadness akin to your own. You were both content pretending the other didn’t have secrets they’d buried deep inside their pasts. 

The day had been too long, and the sight of a setting sun was a welcome one. A picturesque scene of pink and oranges painted the skies which backdropped Taeyong’s beloved city. 

“Let’s get a drink to cool down,” Johnny piped, securing his gun back in his trousers.

Mark looked over disapprovingly, “You know you should really invest in a holster.”

“Not a chance!” Johnny grinned, “Taeil will flip if I make another extravagant purchase this month.” 

Taeyong slightly shook his head, half-heartedly smiling. Taeil, his consigliere had only gotten on Johnny’s case after he bought two restaurants and three record stores on a whim. Johnny simply was dead set on never purchasing himself a holster.  

Mark discerning Johnny’s lame excuse, decided to play along, “If you’re tight on money, why don’t we drink at the crappy-looking place.” He pointed to a shabby, bar with rusted molding at the end of the street. 

Taeyong grimaced, he didn’t like spending too much time in disputed territory. The street they were standing on fell in a grey area, both claimed by him, the King of the North, and the terrible Black Crow of the West. 

“We should head back closer to base,” Renjun cut in, noticing Taeyong’s hesitancy.  

Taeyong had his own bars and hotels where he could drink and dine with complete ease. He saw no need to do so here. 

“Let’s do it,” Johnny exclaimed, pulling a protesting Renjun into a friendly headlock.

“It’ll be fine,” Mark reassured, nudging Taeyong’s shoulder. “Nobody’s that stupid to take on all four of us.”

“I’m here! I’m here!” You breathlessly apologized to your manager, reaching for a bar apron.

“It’s fine,” He assured, handing you a docket, “First day back?” 

You nodded, trying to catch your breath “It’s the first day, and I feel like I’m already behind on all of my classes.” 

“Well, tonight should be pretty standard for a weekday.” He commented, his eyes scanning the empty tables, “I’ll be up upstairs talking to a supplier but, give me a wave if you need me.” 

“Will do.” It wasn’t uncommon for you to be working the bar alone.

The 'Old Sand Bucket' where you worked was certainly past its prime. Its interior was outdated, half of the bar stools wobbled, and even the bar counter was unleveled. It just wasn’t a place that attracted a surplus of people. 

You pulled your first load of wine glasses from the dishwasher, lifting them into the bar to be polished.

The door to the bar chimed, “Welcome to the Old Sand Bucket.” You said, without looking upward. “What can I get you?”

Taeyong gave the bar a lengthy overview. It didn’t appear to be suspicious, just the opposite. The dated bar was completely unoccupied beside the humming bartender who was mindlessly polishing wine glasses.

He examined you like the rest, evaluating the level of threat you were. Your head stayed down, occupied with your task. You barely spared a glance at his boys, who began ordering drinks.

You wore a simple black shirt underneath a bar apron with the ‘Old Sand Bucket’ labeled on its front. Your hair was tied in a low ponytail, revealing the curvature of your neck. At its base was a silky black ribbon knotted in a neat bow. Other than being pretty, you didn’t appear to stand out. 

Taeyong hummed, satisfied the bar his boys wanted to drink at was nothing more than a dinky, uninspired establishment.

You heard another person pull out a wonky barstool, which made four people in your bar. Not bad, as you usually didn’t have customers come in until half past nine. 

You placed down a bourbon and coke to your left—a man’s voice offering you a quick thanks.

“What can I get you?” You asked, finally looking up at the last man.

“Whatever’s good.”

Your eyes widened, blinking repeatedly, willing the ghost of your past to disappear back to your nightmares.

This can’t be real. This can’t be him. Please. No.

But he didn’t. He sat in front of you. His bored expression faded as he caught you staring. You immediately dropped your face, your face burning.

Taeyong furrowed his brows, confused. The way you looked at him just then… It was as if you knew him. He wasn’t mistaken. He couldn’t be. The way you were mumbling your answers, your arms shaking as you reached to pour a shot of vodka.

You did the best you could to keep a low profile, keeping your face down, and distracting yourself with work around the bar. You wanted nothing more than to abandon your shift— your heart furiously pounding every time you heard one of their four voices address you. However, at around eleven there was an unusual influx of people (what you believed to be a bachelor’s night out), therefore you needed to power through your discomfort. 

You wavered for your manager to join you downstairs, while you stepped out of the bar and started clearing tables. 

Taeyong kept you in the corner of his eye, unable to shake the curiosity that brewed in his stomach.

“Give us a smile, love,” Slurred one of the drunken bachelors, who had stripped off his shoes and was now wearing one on his head. 

You complied, in order not to make a scene. You reached over his table to pick up one of the empty pints. You felt the irksome feeling of fingers brushing against your neck. You jumped back, dropping your tray. Your hands immediately shot to your neck, clasping where your black ribbon ought to be. 

The shattering of glass made Taeyong stand, interrupting Renjun mid-sentence. Your eyes were aflame with anger, your mouth parting in horror. You were trying desperately to conceal the base of your neck.

Without a second thought, Taeyong approached, pulling the drunken patron up by his wrinkled collar. The man began sloppily flailing, trying to make his pathetic getaway. 

Taeyong snatched the black ribbon out of his hand, before not so gently throwing him to the ground.

“I believe this belongs to you.” Taeyong stepped forward, extending his arm in your direction. 

You instinctively stepped back, your eyes narrowing on the black ribbon between his fingers. There was no way for you to reach for your ribbon without exposing your neck.

“You keep it.” You said as firmly as you could, turning your back to him.

He watched as you retreated to one of the back rooms, his interest in you only spiking.

You hid yourself in one of the alcohol storerooms, searching for something to cover up your neck. You resorted to some paper towels stained with raspberry syrup. It wasn’t one of your greatest ideas, but it seemed to work when your manager came bursting in.

“Where’d you go?” Your manager pressed, “You left broken glass for me to clean up by table fourteen.” 

"It accidently lock myself in the storage rooms again.” You lied.

Your manager sighed, ushering you out.

You did a quick scan of the bar, noticing the four men had since left. 

“What happened to you?” Your manager pointed to the paper towels and raspberry syrup. 

“Ah,” You pressed the wet paper harder against your neck, “A customer spilled a drink all over me.” 

Your manager shook his head, “Go home and clean up,” He signaled you to grab your things, “I’ll close up,”

Scattered, you thanked him and reached for your rucksack.

“Wait,” Your manager handed you an envelope, “Some guy left you a tip.” 

Who gives a tip in an envelope? You eyed it cautiously. 

You waited until you had turned a corner before you used your fingernail to pry apart the sealed envelope.

Inside was a one-hundred-dollar bill, your black ribbon, and a napkin that read 'Thanks for your service’. 

Taeyong kept his distance, hiding in the shadows. He watched you leave the bar, with your hand holding some paper towels to your neck. You use the other hand to tear open the envelope he’d left for you.

To his surprise, you barely acknowledged the bill—you were more interested in the black ribbon and the napkin. You stared at the napkin for a couple of minutes, your teeth grinding. You then scrunched it into a ball, throwing it onto the sidewalk with the envelope containing the hundred. You, however, kept the black ribbon.

Taeyong observed you as you slowly pulled the paper towels away, revealing a dark scar that wrapped around your neck... It was as if someone had strangled you with barbed wire. 

A flood of emotions went through him, sympathy, guilt, and finally, coldness. He couldn’t help but remember a young girl who had experienced a similar fate.

You had died many years ago. Or at least he thought so…

NETWORKS: -​

MONI’S NOTE: Woah! I cannot express how excited I am to dive back into this world. For those who don't know, this is an old fic of mine that I wrote like 5 years?! ago. I've decided to rework it and improve the story (also finally give it an ending). I would much appreciate your thoughts, comments, reblogs and likes are extremely valued.

TAGLIST: Let me know if you'd like to be added to this taglist!

© softsan - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

[novamariestark]

Something to Live For

Summary: You get kidnapped by Derek Keyes.

Warnings: torture (not too descriptive), death (of course), use of (y/n), i'm not sure what else 🤣

Word count: 3386

Fandom: Chicago P.D

Pairing: Hank Voight x Reader

Erin was your best friend, to see her spiralling like this… it hurt you. It made you feel weak and powerless. It was like she didn’t care anymore. Like she’d do anything to numb the pain. She was slipping further out of reach, and you’d tried everything—talks, interventions, late-night phone calls that ended in empty promises. But now, it was different. This time, her pain had built walls so high you couldn’t climb them.

You were losing her in the worst way possible. She was physically alive, but it was as though everything that made her who she was had died. Ever since she turned in her badge, you had been partnered with Jay. You loved Jay, he was like a brother to you. A really annoying one. But the both of you had lost the same person. The only person who was as heartbroken as you two was Hank. Everyone in intelligence missed Erin, but it hit you three the most.

Your boss.

In a way, it was like he lost a daughter. A daughter who decided that she wanted to let herself fall into the hole rather than accept the help to climb out.

You’re supposed to leave your outside life at the door when you come in, but it’s hard when her empty desk is literally staring you in the face. Nevertheless, you tried. As hard as you could. You had to. Your mind had to be 100% on the case. If you didn’t then someone could get hurt.

 You had to be fully focused if you were going to take down Derek Keyes. A ruthless drug kingpin that you want to take down. That objective gets set into motion when his little brother, Benji, agrees to take you to him. You.

He would only go with you. Despite everyone else’s protests, you agreed.

“Come on, guys, you don’t trust me?” you asked, moving your eyes across each face of the team. Your eyes lingering a little longer on one face in particular. One that ushered you into his office moments after.

“You sure you wanna be the one going in?” Hank asked, his eyes looked straight into yours, as though he was trying to tell you something, but you couldn’t tell what it was.

You scoffed, looking away from him, “How long is it going to take for you guys to trust me?” Sure, you’d only been there for seven months, but surely, you’ve proven yourself enough times now.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,”

“Then what is it?”

It was on the tip of his tongue. Why couldn’t he say it? Did he not want to? Yes, he wanted to, but you might not want him. You would leave, he’d never see you again. All these things and more swirled through his head, reasons why he hasn’t told you how he feels for you.

He soon comes to regret not telling you when he sees Derek raise his gun at you and his brother.

“Whoa, so what man, you gonna shoot me?” you asked, looking between the gun and him. Before you could even process what happened, a body dropped to the floor beside you. You looked down, it was Benji. You internally started to panic. If this asshole shot his brother without blinking an eye, he’d have no problem disposing of you.

Technically, you had no backup. You were further from them than you’d thought you’d be. You were alone. But you were stubborn as hell, so you weren’t going to go down without a fight. Without thinking twice, you shifted, letting your elbow fly back and connect sharply with the nose of the nearest guy, making him stumble back and bring a hand to his nose.

Your fist connects with the guy to your left, and you land a few quick, brutal punches to his ribs. You thought maybe, just maybe, you could fight your way out, but what you didn’t know was that one of them had pulled out a stick taser. You soon found out when it was rammed between your ribs.

But then, a sharp, searing pain explodes in your side. One of them had pulled out a stick taser, and you feel the shock slam into your ribs, sending jolts through every nerve in your body. Just like that, your legs buckle beneath you as you fall hard to the ground. It's like thousands of needles piercing your skin all at once. All muscles are stuck together. Dancing against your will.

As you lay there, you hoped they’d get to you but as they grabbed you from the floor and dragged you towards the car, you knew that there was little chance they would. But what also alarmed you is why they hadn’t just shot you on the spot. It’s what you’d prefer if you were being honest.

-

As you predicted, you were long gone by the time the team arrived in the hanger. As you struggle to stay awake, one thing kept clutching to your mind. Well someone…

You realize now that you may not get the chance to tell him what you truly feel. you’ve wanted to tell him for so long, but there was always this voice in my mind that stopped me.

‘he doesn’t like you’

‘how could he?’

‘You’d have to leave’

‘You’d have to leave your friends… your family’

Those were just a few things that voice told you. You believed every single one of them. Of course you did. Hank Voight was quite possibly the sexiest guy you’d ever met, and you were supposed to believe you stood a chance? You? The rookie of Intelligence? Yeah right.

But you didn’t see him. You didn’t see the panic in his eyes when he got there and saw you weren’t there. The frustrated yell that came from him. The pacing back and forth. You weren’t there to see how much you meant to him.

-

The team were frantic, doing anything and everything to find you. Hank still hadn’t stopped pacing. He still was when Trudy come up to tell him that he had a visitor who insisted he talk to him. It was just a kid. A kid Derek had used as a courier to deliver something to Hank. What? A DVD of you… being tortured.

When the image first appeared, they couldn’t believe what they saw. They saw you. Dangling from the ceiling, your wrists bound. Your feet had long given up, both were now folded at your ankles. The only thing keeping you up was your wrists. Your shirt unbuttoned so the team could see exactly what they had done to you. A wound on your stomach that had formed due to the repeated trauma caused by the taser. Subtle bruises beginning to form from where they had hit you. Sometimes with their hands, others with wrench or some other tool.

They had repeatedly asked you for something. You had no idea what it was, you were in too much pain to process any words. But what you did know, was that no matter the question, you were going to answer with something random. Something completely bullshit.

At the beginning of the video, they asked the question again, to which you replied, “Pineapple doesn’t belong on a pizza” that earned a few more punches and another jab of the taser. They asked again but they are met with yet another random answer, "Why do we park in driveways and drive on parkways?"

And so the torture continues. Kevin and Adam pull their gazes away from the screen, not being able to you like that. Kevin sneaks little peeks, to see if you were still breathing. Antonio’s head drops toward the desk, he too not being able to see you in pain. Hank and Alvin’s eyes never left the screen. The pain in Hank’s eyes grew more and more obvious, but for now it went unnoticed.

The phone that accompanied the disc started to ring. Hank picked it up, staring at it in his hand for a moment before he answers.

“Voight”

"I’m pretty sure my toaster is plotting against me." He heard you say in the background, followed by a few more punches.

“You’re girl is tough,” the voice on the other side spoke, “She won't talk. Nothing of use to me anyway. You should be proud,”

“What do you want?”

“I want all of Intelligence's CI files in exchange for your detective. Bring the CI files to the corner of 39th and California. Send a lone female officer. No cameras, no wires, no weapons. Just a girl with a file box. You'll make this drop tomorrow at 9:00 a.m. in the morning, or Detective (y/l/n) winds up fertilizer in some cornfield in Indiana. We understand each other, Sergeant?”

Hank didn’t sleep that night, he sat in his office all night after a visit to the prison. He sat there, staring at your desk which he had the perfect view to. Remembering all the times he’d looked at you whilst you were working. Remembering how you bit your lip when you were in deep concentration. Whenever you do that, it pushes away any other thought in his mind, leaving only the thought of how he wanted to be the one who bites that lip. He didn’t know that you’d gladly let him.

The next morning, the fake files were ready. Now all they needed was a female officer just like Derek had requested.

“Okay, call Burgess. Tell her to come in,” Hank said, turning to look at Adam.

Adam’s eyebrows scrunched up slightly, “What for?”

“Keyes requested a female officer deliver the files,” Hank replied simply.

Adam looked around him, then shook his head, “No, you find somebody else.”

Hank stepped forward, closing the distance, “You got a funny way of saying, ‘Yes, sir,’” he shot back.

Adam stood his ground, no matter how close Voight got to him, “There is no way I'm losing a partner and my fiancée on the same day...”

“I said, get Burgess.” Hank repeated, getting dangerously close to him.

Antonio rounded the desk and stood between the two men, “Hey, I'll pull up Rivera from patrol.”

“I'll do it.” Erin’s voice cut through the three of them.

Hank looked at her and then Antonio, “Get her out of here,” he ordered before he walked away.

She followed after him, “Hank...”

“You gave your star back,” he reminded her, stopping to look at her just outside his open office door, “Or don't you remember?”

“Can we talk?” she asked,

Hank walked up to her, “You know, you made it clear which direction you want to go in, which is down. I've accepted that. Now get out,” he said gesturing towards the exit.

“This isn't about me. This is about getting (Y/N) back,” she stated “This guy wants a female courier. You and I both know it should be me,”

“I keep thinking... I mean, I keep... I keep thinking... This never would have happened if I had another pair of eyes at Midway, your eyes. Then I'm not watching (Y/N) being tortured like an animal,” that’s when the team finally see it. The pain and the worry in his eyes. The aura around him that told the others to tread carefully around him or he might fly off the handle. It was you. He’d called you by your first name. Something he was very careful not to do, at least in front of the others.

“I'm asking you. Let me make this right. I will do the drop.”

--

You’re startled awake by the sudden opening of the door and footsteps. You looked up to see one of them coming towards you, “Ugh what do you want now?”

“Get up,” he barked, yanking you up by your forearm.

“What a gentleman,” you remarked with a roll of your eyes.

The walk felt long, even though it was probably only about 30 seconds, but your legs felt like you’d been walking for days. Before you can focus too much on the pain, you’re thrown onto a couch, with a woman sitting beside you. You look up, trying to focus your eyes. It wasn’t until she spoke that you knew who it was.

“My god, (y/n),” she said, brushing the hair away from your eyes.

Your eyebrows screw up, it can’t be, “Erin?” you asked, you must be dreaming, or hallucinating. It wasn’t really her.

“Yeah, I’m here,” she replied. You smiled at her, but still you weren’t too convinced. Is she real?, “come on,” she said as she went to pick you up.

“Sit down,” a voice from behind her said. You heard the click of a gun, “You ain’t going nowhere until these files check out,” He left and you turned your head to look at Erin.

“How are you here?” you asked through gritted teeth as a jolt of pain went through you. You could feel tears pricking at your eyes but you didn’t want to cry but pretty soon you weren’t going to have any control over it.

“Alvin called me,” she replied, pulling you into her side, her hand gently caressing the sweat stained skin of your arm, “Said you were in trouble,”

“you...” you paused, words getting trapped inside your throat, “you came back for me?”

“of course I did,” she said, pressing a kiss to your hair, “you’re my best friend,”

You smiled at her, a smile that didn’t last long because the guy came back saying the files were fake and before you knew it you and Erin were fighting. Fighting for your life. Its hard. You barely have any strength. You were in immense pain but you weren’t about to let her be alone like you were. You punch and punch and punch until the guy below you doesn’t fight back any more. You look up to see Derek has a gun pointed at Erin. She has her hands up in surrender.

Hell no were you going to allow this. You reached down, grabbing the gun from the man you had taken out.

“Good night” he said as his finger touched the trigger.

The sound of a gunshot echoes around the room. Erin screw her waiting for the bullet that never came. One by one, she opened her eyes to find Derek on the floor with a wound on his head. She looked down at you. The gun was still in your shaking hands. She knelt down beside you, unwrapping your hands from the gun and gently placed it on the floor.

It was then the dam finally broke and the tears you had kept pent up for however long you were here. You had no idea how long it had been. You cry and cry until eventually your eyelids grow so heavy, you can’t keep your eyes open anymore.

Erin holds you, her arms wrapped around you, your head resting on her shoulder. All up until she heard it. The gravelly voice yelling CHICAGO PD

She got up and headed towards the door. She opened it and is met with the sight of the team. They all looked at her, fearing the worst when they see her covered in blood.

“She needs an ambulance”

Hank shoots past her and into the room. His eyes darting everywhere until he saw you, on the floor. He decided that he didn’t want to wait for the ambulance. He picked you up and rushed out the room.

“Come on, we got to get her to hospital,” he said charging past the team, both Erin and Alvin follow closely behind, whilst the others clean up and take the other minions to the station.

-

Beep… beep…beep

What the fuck is that?

Beep… beep…beep

Will you cut that shit out?

Beep… beep…beep

Stop it!

The noise continued and it was starting to drive you insane, that was until you felt a hand sneak underneath yours, gently clasping around it. Who is that?

“She gonna be alright?” a voice from beside you asked. Where the hand was.

Wait… you know that voice. You should, you think about it all the time.

Hank?

“She’s going to pull through,” another voice replied.

You try to look around but all you can see is darkness. Where am I? Were you not still in the Kingpin’s hideout? No stupid, Erin was there. But was that real or a dream? Is this real or just a dream. Were you just so much in pain that your mind had totally checked out of reality?

You feel the thumb caress the back of your hand. You knew that voice but seriously… was this actually happening?

“I’ll be back to check on her in a little while,” Will said as he left you and Hank alone.

Another set of footsteps came towards you. Your immediate thought was to panic. But you didn’t when you heard another familiar voice.

“You really care about her, don’t you?”

Alvin

Hank didn’t answer. He just continued his gentle movements of his thumb.

“Well good for you,” Alvin replied to his silent answer with a little laugh, “You going to tell her?”

“No”

A look of confusion crossed his face, “What? Why?”

“Maybe because she’s 20 years younger than me, because there’s no way in hell she’d feel the same way for me,” Hank listed, the pain, hurt of him knowing he could never have what he wanted, who he loved evident in his voice.

“Do you love her?”

Hank kept opening and closing his mouth, he wanted to straight up deny that he loved you. But he couldn’t. His heart wouldn’t let him.

“You do,” Alvin admitted for him.

That was enough to wake you up, “You do?” both heads snap towards you, surprise on both their faces.

“Do what?” Hank asked, a little forced laugh escaping his lips.

“Love me?”

Again, Hank wanted to deny it, but you looking at him, awaiting his answer, he just couldn't.

“yes”

Alvin quietly slipped out of the room, a small knowing smirk on his lips.

“really?”

“yeah, really,”

You smile, turning slightly on your side, wincing at the pain that shot through your body but you continued anyway, despite Hank’s protests.

“How long?” you asked, Hank shook his head. He was unable to know exactly when he fell for you, having told himself that he wasn’t in love with you so many times. But also, a part of him still wanted to back away. To protect himself from hurt, “First time we did an interrogation together,” you added.

Hank’s eyebrows shot up, a silent question of “huh?”

“When I fell for you, was the first time I saw you in interrogation,” you replied, contradicting everything that was swimming around in Hank’s mind.

“Y-you? You love me?” he asked, you nodded shyly, your cheeks turning a light shade of pink, “But I’m-“

“-Incredibly hot and sexy?” you cut him off, “Yes I know,” you added, bringing your hand up to stroke his cheek.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” you whispered, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

“That makes two of us.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “When I saw you weren’t there, everything else just...stopped.” There was a vulnerability in his eyes you hadn’t seen before, as if he were afraid to let you know how much he’d cared. “I kept thinking about...all the things I never told you,” he murmured, He gave a half-smile, watching his thumb dance across your skin, “I’m not exactly the easiest guy to get close to, huh?”

You managed a small laugh, feeling your eyes sting with tears. “Guess that makes two of us,” you whispered back.

His hand tightened over yours, “Then let’s change that,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “No more waiting. No more ifs or buts,”

He leaned in, slowly, giving you enough time to react, to say no. But like hell you would. You moved in as close as your body would let you. After what felt like forever, your lips finally meet in the softest, sweetest kiss, something you wouldn’t have expected from him.

But of course, that was only the beginning. He has more in store for you when you are back to 100%

@unhappy-hannah I hope it's not too bad 🤣😱

[ionlydrinkhotwater]

NO, but I don't think people understand. Can you imagine that first game after the news breaks about The Butcher of Baltimore and Jean's parents' arrest? Murder? Disappearance? (I don't know how the Yakuza plans to handle it)?!?!

Like people are gonna realise that the Raven turned Trojan backliner they cheered for was the son of some French criminal dons and the unhinged Fox striker that they watched all last year play with Kevin Day and have a public feud with Riko and who was insane on Kathy Ferdinands show was actually the son of a notorious killer/criminal kingpin who kidnapped him after a game and tortured him and then he went on to beat Riko, upsetting the Ravens winning streak, helping to make Exy history and then Riko tried to kill him on live TV?

Add Rikos' death, Kevins cryptic comments, and the Ravens' concerning and troubling behavior post TKM.

Like the sports fans and the true crime fans are gonna be fed for years on this. The Foxes and the Trojans will be inundated with press requests and the sales for tickets will sell out in seconds (great for the charities that the percentage of tickets sales go to thanks to Dan and Renee).

Also, how desperate do you think Kathy is to get Neil back on her show knowing what she knows now? The clips of the initial interview would go viral after the news broke, and it was probably already viral to start, given the drama between Riko, Kevin, and Neil.

Like the public would only know half of the true story and its still memeable, social media phenomenon levels of insanity.

Thank goodness Jean and Neil are equipped with emotional support blondes. Also Kevin.

[pennyellee]

CHAPTER III - ambience

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

chapter warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, kidnapping, mentions of God, sharp objects, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, mentions of death, overwhelming, violence, threats, drowning, gunshots

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 6,9K

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II GAME OF GO CHAPTER IV

Ambience (n.) the strong urge to avoid someone or something

Her father was an intimidating man, or at least he wanted to be perceived as one. As a triad leader, he had a reputation to uphold. He needed to be feared. Despite being his firstborn, she was still a mere woman in his eyes.

There was a time when Y/N believed her father saw her to be more than just a woman. He had softened when her younger brother was born after she turned fifteen. Her brother’s name was Wang Bó Chéng, a name that carried the promise of great success. How poetic. 

According to the original plan, she would marry Yamamoto’s son, and her brother would inherit their father’s empire once he retired or passed away. However, the young kingpin had other plans. Yoongi would patiently wait for her father to make a mistake.

If you were to ask Y/N if she was loyal to her father, she would answer yes. If you were to ask her if she loved her father, she would say she loved him like she loved God — an entity she believed in but couldn’t see. At other times, this would be a devoted proclamation, but in her current situation, it was heartbreaking. 

The young leader believed God had led her down this path to him, and she strongly opposed His decision. Her faith was slowly fading, and all she could hear were the echoing cries in her head, tears of sorrow like a Lacrimosa.

“Tomorrow morning, we leave for Chosen. We’ll meet your father there,” said Yoongi when he returned to the garden. She had heard about the famous Chosen Hotel; there was no need for further explanation. The luxurious hotel served as a cover for his less legal activities.

“Can’t he come here?” She hugged herself, seeking more comfort. Yoongi approached her but didn’t take his previous seat.

“I don’t trust him enough to invite him to our home, sweetling,” he honestly admitted. This was his home, not headquarters. He had brought her to his home as his future wife, not a prisoner.

“What did he say?” she asked softly. She knew her father must be fuming, despite Yoongi’s attempts to fool him.

“He wants to see you. He wasn’t pleased that I proposed without his presence. He wanted to marry you off elsewhere—” he scoffed.

“—I had to persuade him that an alliance with our clan would be a better decision,” he spoke so openly. However, she remained guarded, not letting him deceive her.

“Apart from that, I’m hún dàn for halting his plans for you.” She couldn’t help but laugh. Her father could be quite amusing when he wasn’t behaving aggressively towards them. He had lighter sides and moments when she even smiled for him. All this was enough for her to cloud all the bad memories. ’Always remember the good ones’ her mother used to say, ’it will keep you sane’.

“I have work to do. Can I trust you enough to leave you in the garden?” he asked, his voice filled with seriousness. Can he? Let’s see. She simply nodded, and he stepped closer to her once again. He bowed down and planted a kiss on her hair, an endearing act of affection perhaps.

“Be good for me,” he said softly to her hair before leaving her alone in the garden. She wasn’t foolish enough to run immediately, even though the desire to do so burned within her.

An hour. That’s how long she waited, strolling the garden until she spotted a back door. Carefully, she requested a warmer blanket from a naive girl who had no inkling of her plans. She slipped the ring off her finger and dashed to the back door, slamming it open. She couldn’t risk running through the house to the front; that would be far too reckless.

As she stepped outside, she was surprised to find herself on a street. A few meters away stood a smaller hanok, next to it another, and another, forming what seemed to be a small village.

There was no turning back now. Guided by her heart rather than her brain, she chose to go left, as anyone would when faced with indecision, unknowingly altering her destiny once again.

The familiar sensation of fear and adrenaline flooded her veins as she desperately tried to find a way out of the maze. She dared not look back as she frantically searched for an escape route. So far, Y/N didn’t see anyone, and the sky was setting down. The sky was growing darker and darker every second, and there was no source of light anywhere apart from the homes she was surrounded by. Panic set in as she realized she was running out of time. Finally, she noticed a small opening in the wall and quickly squeezed through it, just as she heard someone call out her name. He knew. She knew she had to act swiftly.

She ran as fast as she could, her heart pounding in her chest. It was eerily quiet, too quiet even, only the sound of her heartbeat echoing in her ears. Y/N needed to find a place to hide and gather her thoughts.

Once again, she instinctively chose to go left, down the dark street. Doubts plagued her mind. Was this escape merely a trap? Did he already anticipate that she would try to flee? Her dress clung to her skin, just as it had when she crossed the borders a few days ago.

She stopped in some kind of courtyard, a little park perhaps, to catch her breath. Suddenly, she can hear footsteps and echoing laughter. Confused, she hesitated, unsure whether to stay or run.

The first one to spot her, from the couple walking in her direction, was the young girl that hitched and stammered, “Seokjin?” Her plea was barely audible. The doctor looked at his companion in confusion before following her gaze, locking eyes with Y/N. The Chinese girl’s heart sank as Seokjin sighed.

“I’ll be civil and will give you a minute before I have someone report your location,” he said, his tone deadly serious. Without hesitation, she ran as fast as she could.

“Aish—she is only going to end up broken to the core…” She heard his words like she would be still standing there, but she resolved in her mind that it wouldn’t happen today.

Another crack in the wall assured her that she might have a slight chance to flee unharmed. She skimmed through it, seeing no other hanoks, a smile and laughter of happiness escaping her lips.

The gunshot that landed just less than a meter away from her petite form put her joy on hold immediately. It couldn’t be. She had come so far in that vast maze of hanoks. The forest in front of her seemed inviting, but she knew that taking another step would provoke another bullet.

Y/N didn’t know how long it took her to get away nor how long it was till he got to know she vanished. It felt like minutes, but it might have been way more — the village was too large. He had brought her here because it was more difficult to escape. Now, she finally understood.

Y/N has to decide now. Would she run for her life, or surrender and avoid the fatal bullets that could strike her from behind? “God, I want to live, I promise—” whispered she. Another gunshot echoed, this one landing even closer. She screamed.

“Be careful, goddamn!” she heard someone yell in Korean. Was this her chance to escape? There was no time to decide. Her legs are already moving.

“Someone get her before she will get the bullets in!” Another yell. This one sounded frustrated, tired even.

“I can make it.” She declared, manifesting her freedom one more time. “I can.” Determined to succeed, blinded by the darkness, she didn’t hear or see another man approaching her running figure, until he tackled her to the ground.

“You’re one stubborn woman.” A voice she had heard before but couldn’t quite place.

“No!” she screamed, desperately kicking and punching the man that was now dragging her back to her limbo.

“Behave nicely, and just maybe he won’t slaughter anyone,” he warned her. ’Will he go on a killing spree?’ She wondered. ‘Will lives be lost because of her selfish desire for freedom?’ Only God knows if she will get her answers.

“Very kind of you to join me for dinner, Jagiya,” said the devil, his voice dripping with cruel and cold undertones of aggressive sarcasm. Y/N was forcefully thrown into a chair in the open room, overlooking the garden she had been occupying when she attempted to escape. 

There was an opening in a wall to enter the koi pond on which this room was atop. The lights were dim, but she could see his well-drawn face. The scar makes him beyond intimidating. 

She noticed a young maid kneeling next to the opening in the wall, her hands tied behind her back and tears streaming down her face, her mouth gagged with fabric. A pinch of anxiety and sadness stung her like a poisonous bee. This was not what she wanted. She whipped her head back to address the leader who never let his eyes leave her. Never again.

“Let her go,” Y/N venomously demanded. The leader smirked. “It wasn’t her fault—” she began.

“Oh, so she did not leave you alone, allowing you to fly away, my little dove,” he sang, his aura intensifying, causing her breathing to quicken and her heart to race.

“Deal with me,” said she. “Leave her out of this.” In her mind, she imagined grabbing the chopsticks laid out on the table for dinner and using them to wipe the grin off his face. But she could never bring herself to harm another person again. Even when it comes to him. A vulnerability within her.

“That’s not what I want to hear from you, pretty,” he replied. The young Kkangpae motioned his hand in command to the man standing next to the terrified girl. The man grabbed her and forced her into the koi pond. Y/N’s eyes reflected pure panic once she realized what is going to happen.

“Stop!” Y/N yelled as she tried to stand and rush towards them, but she was forcefully pushed back down into the chair.

“I’m waiting,” he taunted, clapping his hands together, instructing the man to submerge the poor girl in the water. The sound of raspy, wet gurgling sent chills down Y/N’s spine.

“Please stop!” she begged him. The girl struggled, kicking, and splashing, desperately fighting for her life. But the leader maintained an indifferent gaze, caring little for the girl’s fate. She let his fiancée escape.

“I don’t know what you want to hear!” she cried out. Y/N’s eyes welled up with tears. “Please let her go!” But he remained unmoved, patiently waiting for her to realise. She had to think quickly, or the young girl would die.

“Say it,” he urged, trying to coax the words out of her. Her eyes darted across his face, searching for a solution. And then it hit her. Há dún.

“I’m sorry…” she choked out, her voice trembling. Having his hands clasped together, pressed against his mouth, he smiled. He extended his hand, and the man pulled the girl out of the water just in the nick of time. Not a minute, seconds and she would have drowned. Y/N watched as the girl coughed and whispered her apologies.

“Thank God.” She prayed. What if she had her killed? The thought of that breach in her path terrified her.

“Next time, think twice—” For the first time, she felt enormous fear looking into his eyes. “—I won’t be so merciful.���

“You’re so lucky we’re not married, yet. Otherwise, I would have to discipline you more severely,” he spat at her sobbing figure. Y/N didn’t want other innocent people to be pulled into her mess. She hugged herself, shivering from the cold wind blowing through the open room and the water nearby.

The young leader sighed and pulled out a pack of Golden Bat cigarettes from his pocket alongside the velvet box that was hiding a ring she abandoned. Setting it in front of her with a loud thud that made her flinch. He gestured for her to take it as he lit his cigarette.

“If you take it off —” said he exhaling a cloud of smoke into the night air, “I’ll make sure you won’t be able to do so ever again.” His tone was cold, his gaze determined, piercing into her soul. He desperately wished to win her heart differently, but his methods had brought them to this point.

“So, where did you want to go exactly? To see your Sire? The cousin who betrayed you? Or are you still dreaming of sailing to the new world?” He mockingly mused aloud. She remained silent, allowing her tears to dry on her face.

“Your father is on his way to Seoul to negotiate with me. Now, I won’t let you go, and, as a matter of fact, I don’t mind putting a bullet right in between your daddy’s eyes.” Yoongi declared and Y/N stared at him with terror in her eyes. She knew very well what would happen to her family if her father was deceased. Slaves to whatever clan they would fall under. Her father has too many enemies around the whole of Asia.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Y/N won’t believe his words easily, desperately hoping he was bluffing, trying to get her to cooperate.

“Oh, I would. So, I suggest you’ll behave,” he said through gritted teeth. “That’s the only rule you must follow Y/N. Obey or face the consequences, or next time it could be your little sister in the pond.” He took a drag from his cigarette, attempting to calm himself down. Y/N swallowed hard and shook her head, signaling her disagreement.

“Now, be a good girl and put the ring back on.”

Morning came sooner than she wished for. Her ears were concentrating on the sounds outside of the room that was providing her momentary salvation. He isn’t to be seen, at least not yet. Y/N slowly sat in the bed, pushing the thick blanket away. The room feels cold, the fire has gone out sometime in the middle of the night.

“Good morning, Buin.” Said new voice. Y/N fixated her eyes on a maid she had never seen before. ‘Has he killed the girl after all?’ She was worried. Who wouldn’t be. This maid seemed to be older, more mature.

“Is the girl alright?” Y/N didn’t think twice to ask. The maid ignored her questions, opening the window on her left side.

“Sajangnim is requesting you to have breakfast with him.” Said the maid, with a monotonous voice.

“Is the girl alright?” she asked again, slowly and more carefully. The maid stopped whatever she was doing.

“Yes, Min Buin,” said the maid. It got Y/N to see straight again. However, she couldn’t pardon her entitlement.

“I’m not Min as of yet.” She said, more intimidatingly than she wanted. The Chinese woman wants nothing else but other people to not fear her. She ain’t her father, or Yoongi. Such a soft name for such a cold calculating man.

“Sajangnim ordered us to call you either Missus Min or Buin—”

“There is no need to call me either, Y/N it is or if you insist, I’m still Wang.” Y/N responded to their statement that her abductor ridiculously requested. She made a mental note to make herself clear to him about such matters.

“I understand, Buin.” No, she doesn’t, thought Y/N. She will continue to blindly listen to that calculating bastard that is probably sipping coffee right now, soaping his hands for her.

 “Today is very cold outside, I suggest you pick more warm clothing, Buin.” The maid addressed her again. The end of October is too close. If she will be lucky, Y/N shall be a free woman by next year. She just needs to whip a plan, without hurting anyone. There is still a very little, tiny hope inside her.

Y/N spends a minute recalling his words about this place. That it is his home, she knew. But that the whole hanok maze she ran through yesterday is in fact home for the closest and highest members of his clan, she didn’t realise. Y/N’s family lived far away from other members of the clan. Her father wished so. In case of treason or attack, they would be safe, as no one, not a single soul knew where exactly Wang’s family home is. Y/N doesn’t presume that Min thinks only of himself and his greater good. He might be selfish himself but aren’t we all. Wang Zimò was the most selfish man she ever knew. Unfortunately for her, she inherited this selfishness and couldn’t stop thinking whether she should attempt to run so soon.

“Please don’t try to escape Buin—” The maid was interrupted by another one entering the room.

“Buin, Sajangnim sent me for you.” The elder woman said. Y/N dusted her now clothed form and took a deep breath.

“Very well.” Said Y/N and took a first step outside the room.

It was still very early in the morning and all she wanted to do was hide under blankets and never leave. That wasn’t an option for her, not anymore. She needs to breathe this anxiety out before she sits by the table with him again.

It must be really cold that they won’t eat outside, nor in the open outside room on the koi pond. She was glad for the change of surroundings as seeing the place where the girl almost died because of her, could only benefit him in breaking her fighting spirit.

“Well, well, look who decided to join us!” She heard Seokjin’s cheery voice, and she was not even in the room yet. Y/N swayed her hips, walking to the low chair that was left for her to sit in. Her long black qipao dress with golden details is caressing the contours of her form.

“Sweetling, you gave my lady quite a scare yesterday.” Said the doctor, sipping on his cup of coffee. Y/N never tasted coffee. Her father was strongly opposed to the foreign beverage and strongly preferred tea. ‘We’re Chinese’ he was beating his chest, proudly. And now she is with the Korean enemy that has been fighting Japan's Yakuza rule for years now. Perhaps, her little being will bring peace to the clans after all.

“You angered this fella really good.” He continued.

“Send my apologies to your lady, it wasn’t my intention to startle anyone.” She said softly while sitting down diagonally from her so-called husband to be.

“Did you sleep well?” He asked her, voice low, filled with a hint of concern.

“Did you?” her tone capturing her sass. She refused to let him off the hook easily, Y/N has a full right to be angry at him for dragging the poor girl into this mess. Y/N will take it with the pain if she has to, but no one should suffer at her cost.

“I would sleep better if you were next to me.” Backfire, his words catching her off guard. Y/N did not expect him to be so open in the company of another person.

“I’m not your wife,” her voice steady but laced with a hint of defiance.

“But you will be,” he said firmly.

Her brow furrowing as if deep in thought. “Will I—?” She mused, drawing out the uncertainty. “It comes to my knowledge that it ends with ‘I do—’”

“If I have to hold everyone at gunpoint for you to say those words, I will.”

Y/N’s gaze pierced through him, a mix of frustration. “So romantic,” she finally uttered, her words dripping with sarcasm.

“Well, aren’t you a lovely couple, you two.” Seokjin chimed in, sarcastically.

Y/N rolled her eyes, drinking her tea. “We have to depart very soon, so eat, dove.” Yoongi said, making her roll her eyes yet again. However, as she could practically hear her stomach, after skipping dinner — having no appetite — she was indeed happy to eat.

Y/N felt tears welling up inside as she sat down in the Cadillac next to him. A scarf tied tightly around her eyes prevented her from seeing the world outside his secluded little kingdom.

“I’ll take it off in a minute, don’t worry,” he reassured her. But what use was it to take it off for only a minute? Wouldn’t she be able to see the rest of the journey? Y/N tried to make sense of his intentions, and her understanding came when he removed the scarf.

Darkness surrounded her as the car engine roared and echoed loudly through the underground tunnels. She couldn’t see much, but she knew they had already made at least three turns, left and right, navigating yet another maze. Her mind raced, trying to comprehend the nature of the place he called home. As if reading her mind, he provided answers to her unspoken questions.

“We cannot live right under the enemy’s noses. Nobody knows how to get here or where this place is,” he explained. She understood why it is so, her own family home was well hidden – but not unreachable.

“I was in a forest once I got out of the village…I thought we were—” she said, deliberating out loud.

“You’re a smart woman, my love, but that’s not quite true, —” said he and even in the dark, she could see him smirk. “—least, partially,” he added.

“There are several mountains around Seoul — under one of which we are now, but I won’t disclose the exact location,” he revealed. Y/N’s thoughts began to piece together, desperately trying to determine their whereabouts. And then it hit her.

“No…” she uttered, quietly, realizing that if her deduction was correct, she would never be able to escape unless she climbed high walls or discovered the secret underground exit. Yoongi laughed, fully aware of her epiphany.

“Yes,” he confirmed simply.

They were in a hidden valley, nestled within the mountains, providing sanctuary for him and his family. “I hope this puts a halt to the master escape plan you were for sure cooking up,” he remarked with a touch of sarcasm.

‘Motherfucker’ she thought to herself. Even if she had decided to run to the forest that day, she would have only ended up at a dead end instead of finding freedom. A tear escaped her eye right when the car emerged from the tunnel reaching its surface, the light outside shining through the front glass. Y/N had no idea how far they were from Seoul or Incheon. For the first time in forever, she wished she wouldn’t run from Shenyang.

“Is there anything I should know about your father before we arrive?” Yoongi spoke after a minute of tense silence.

“I don’t think there is something you don’t already know,” she replied.

“I know what others may know but is there something specific you know as his daughter?” he rephrased his question, seeking a more coherent answer from her.

“Don’t be fooled,” said Y/N simply, only seconds before the buildings of the city came into view. The young leader furrowed his brows at her statement but quickly understood its significance.

This ornate architecture stood as a symbol of luxury and sophistication in a changing world. The intricately carved pillars and balconies, the glistening windows reflecting the golden rays of the last of autumn sun. Y/N marveled at the grandeur of the scene before her.

“I want to speak to him alone first. I shall call for you once we’re done,” the young leader was keeping his hand on the small of her back once they arrived at the reception of the Chosen Hotel that previously belonged to the Japanese Yakuza. It was only later after the First War that the ownership shifted to Mins.

The polished marble floors, the grand chandeliers illuminating the lobby, and the sound of footsteps echoing through the vast space. Y/N heard about this famous hotel and its westernised luxurious style that combined several cultures around the world. It wasn’t so different from the hanok he resided in, but his house felt more like a home than this. She could hate him all she wants; this she can’t deny. Despite her hatred for him, she couldn’t deny the enchantment his home evoked, especially with the surrounding nature.

Y/N nodded in response to his words. There was no point in starting another fight. He led her to another part of the hotel to wait. Just as she thought she would have a chance to explore and search for a breach in his security, her plotting came to an end when she saw a familiar figure sitting in what appeared to be a sunroom.

“Mā…” Y/N said softly, tears welling in her eyes once her vision settled on her.

“Be good,” Yoongi whispered in her ear and left them alone. She did not take another second standing there and eagerly ran to hug her mother.

“Oh mā,” she cried in her embrace, listening to her comforting heartbeat. 

“What were you thinking, my child?” Y/N’s mother said softly, lovingly caressing her hair.

“Mā, I didn’t know it would end up this way, I promise. I thought… I thought—” she stammered.

“I know my child. I know,” her mother reassured, understanding her feelings all too well. “You have to stand even stronger now.” After they sat down, her mother wiped away her tears.

“You are not marrying the prince any more. You’re marrying the king.” Any remaining hope Y/N had that her father might not agree to Yoongi’s proposition and refuse the marriage dissipated. She knew her fate was sealed, and she wondered if death was her only means of redemption and freedom.

“He is intimidating but so charming at the same time,” her mother remarked after a moment, giving Y/N time to process the harsh truth while she was touching the white smooth pearl necklace that hung around her neck.

“He could be a good husband,” she continued with the words Y/N never wanted to hear from her.

“Mā, he abducted me—” Y/N tried to argue. She couldn’t believe her mother’s approval.

“Weren’t you running away anyway, my dear?” the older female interjected.

“Is Father going to punish Chan-yeol and Daiyu, Mā?” she pleaded for answers. All of this was spinning in Y/N’s mind heavily. She couldn’t understand why they would betray her father and give her away to the enemy.

“He can’t —” her mother began, “Chan-yeol was never loyal to our triad, to begin with.” Her mother confirmed her fears, making her realise that seeking solace with them was a mistake that had unintended consequences.

“What about the deal with Tokyo? Won’t you be in danger, Mā?” She wasn’t curious, Y/N’s worry for her family was genuine.

“I don’t know much, darling, you know your father,” her mother replied, gently caressing her cheek.

“But as it comes to my understanding, leader Min has an offering for your father that may solve this issue.” Her mother picked up a cup of freshly brewed coffee, taking a careful sip.

“Ugh, this tastes even more disgusting than I remember,” she exclaimed, prompting genuine laughter from Y/N.

“I’m happy to see you laugh,” said a voice coming from the entrance to the sunroom. “Sir?” Said Y/N standing up, not sure how to address the man speaking to her.

“Park Jimin—” The man introduced himself to her and her mother politely. “I believe we have already met when we arrived, Mr Park.” Her mother said, smiling softly.

“Yes, indeed,” he replied, returning her smile. It seems that Jimin runs this hotel, as she discovered in their small talk before, he said words Y/N wished he wouldn’t.

“I shall escort you to our leader,” he said, smiling softly at her with a tinge of pity. Y/N wasn’t ready to see her father yet nor Yoongi. She could feel a knot forming in her stomach. Reluctantly, she hugged her mother tightly, not wanting to let her go.

“He is different, my child. You are no longer a princess-to-be; he shall make you his queen.” She whispered in her ear to eliminate the chance that Jimin would hear her. The older woman gazed into her daughter’s eyes one more time and said quietly.

“Be a queen.”

Polished hardwood floors gleamed under the soft glow of the sun, casting a warm and inviting ambience. The air was filled with a faint aroma of cigarettes and hard liquor. A traditional screen, painted with scenes from nature, stood proudly against one wall. Soft rays of sunlight filtered through traditional hanji paper windows, casting gentle patterns on the room’s surfaces deep within the hotel. Y/N didn’t know how long they had been in the hotel, but it must have been right before lunchtime. The inhabitants of this living room were not a company she would voluntarily choose to be in.

Her father was seated with his back facing her, and on the other low cushion sofa, the young leader who just outsmarted the enemy. She could smell the cigarettes more intensively as she stepped closer. Yoongi smiled at her for a second, and once he saw Wang’s attention turn back to him again, he smirked.

“Y/N,” he said softly, encouraging her to sit with him. She needed a nudge from Jimin to make the steps toward him, sitting right next to him and facing her father. She stared directly into his eyes as the older male tried to read her and assess her demeanour.

“Who helped you?” her father broke into the silence. Y/N shook her head, smiling softly out of despair.

“Is this what you seek to know?” she replied with a tone he couldn’t recognise. Of course, she was the most rebellious child he had fathered, but he couldn’t overlook the change in her.

“Oh, I apologise. Are you alright my dear child?” he said mockingly, touching his heart. He did care about her, however he had never shown her the kind of love, to make her stronger. Or at least, that was Wang Zimò’s narrative of his truth.

The young leader carefully watched their interaction, sipping on his drink. “How long did you know?” her father asked her yet another ridiculous and ambiguous question.

“Know what exactly? I have no idea what you have in your mind,” she replied stoically, falling into her habit of speaking to her father this way. There was no use to argue with him.

“Are you playing stupid to protect someone?” said her father, smashing his drink to the conference table that divided them.

“She did not know, sir,” said a third party in the room, standing diagonally from her father. Kai. Her cousin. She did not expect him to be here.

“So, your mother did not reveal this wicked plan to her,” He spat out. ’Auntie?’ she thought in her head.

“What are you talking about?!” she raised her voice, an octave higher, drawing attention to her question. Her father laughed and scoffed in disbelief.

“My dear sister seemed to plot behind my back to marry you off to this bastard.” Yoongi only rolled his eyes at the insult thrown his way. In any other scenario, he would have his head. The young leader couldn’t do so. At least, not yet.

“I’m confused,” Y/N said, looking at all of them, searching for an explanation.

“She made a deal with him, and in exchange, you’re the peace offering to Min’s clan. She turned her back to Yamamoto’s without my knowledge,” her father explained angrily.

She would never marry that Tokyo boy. Her head started to spin. “Why wouldn’t she tell me…” she whispered, about to break down.

“If I knew she would abuse my love for her, I would never allow you to study and marry you off right away,” her father scoffed.

“You two were far too close to each other. Tell me the truth daughter, did you know?” he raised his voice at her, only forcing Y/N to shake her head yet again.

She’s not here anymore to explain it to her from point A to Z. Y/N was only instructed to run once her aunt rested her eyes for this lifetime. She only knew that with her aunt being gone, the arranged marriage to Yamamoto’s son would follow right away.

‘Don’t be fooled,’ echoed in her head, and she hoped that Yoongi remembered her words.

“Well—” her father clapped his hands, standing up “It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s said and done.” He moved closer to the fireplace, ready to approach his daughter.

‘Don’t be fooled,’ the voice in her head echoed again. “Are you alright, love?” Yoongi whispered to her. She shook her head in denial, trying to breathe but suddenly feeling suffocated.

“We’ll be on our way. The wedding ceremony will be held at our premises,” said her father, closing the distance between them and approaching her daughter.

“We’re leaving Y/N.” If she wasn’t confused enough, she was even more so now. Her mind was screaming inside.

‘Do not return to China’ her aunt’s words urged in her head. She knew it was a trap, if Yoongi would let her leave with her father, they would likely send soldiers the very next moment they would be out of the enemy’s territory. She warned her that her father wouldn’t give in without a fight. Perhaps, this is a trait she inherited too.

‘Don’t be fooled,’ she never prayed harder for him to realise what his father was doing. Damn the freedom, it could wait. By returning to China, she wouldn’t have a chance to escape again.

“We have not agreed on that. My fiancé will be staying with us,” the younger leader said coldly. Y/N looked at Kai with pleading eyes. Now or never. She stood up and ran towards Kai who expected her to pull such a stunt. Y/N never took it lying down.

Unfortunately, she didn’t get far, sadly. Her father grabbed her by her long hair in a tight grip, causing her to fall to her knees with a painful cry.

Y/N could hear the sound of guns being drawn too loudly. Panic overtook her body as everyone started screaming and aiming for each other’s heads. She was shredding inside. Y/N’s father didn’t release the grip on her hair, no matter how much she cried. The young leader wanted to murder him and paint the walls with his blood for touching her.

“Let her go, uncle,” she heard her cousin’s voice, which made her thoughts stop. Y/N could feel how her father tensed up when his kin put a gun to his head. She looked at Yoongi in confusion, tears in her eyes making her vision a little blurry.

“It was you! You fucking traitorous dog! You helped her!” her father screamed fanatically, his eyes wide and face red.

“You wretched little ungrateful rats!” her father screamed, tugging her closer to him. “I’m taking my daughter home, and once you come to your senses, we shall deal with the wedding.”

The leader didn’t lower his gun. “And I said, she is staying with me,” he stated, more determined than ever to keep his word. She could hear the music in her ears again as tears of sorrow streamed down her cheeks. Mourning herself.

‘Be a queen’ her mother’s words echoed in her head. She has to decide now.

‘God help me. I shall follow your testament if you help me one more time,’ she prayed. The shining silver blade lying on a stack of papers on the conference table caught her eye. The metal gleamed, reflecting the surrounding light. The blade, slim and graceful, tapered to a refined point.

‘Don’t be fooled.’

‘Be a queen.’

Voices screamed in her mind. She acted quickly, grabbing the sharp letter opener, and cutting her hair off right where her father’s hand was wrapped, holding them punishingly tightly, making contact with his knuckles.

Y/N felt her head freed from his grasp, and stood up quickly, stumbling into Yoongi’s awaiting form. A silence fell upon them all. Everyone stared with astonishment at the young mistress.

Wang Zimò was surprised too. Shocked even. He gazed at the black, soft hair that was still in his fist and slowly raised his eyes to his daughter and his enemy.

His daughter and his enemy.

“Is this your decision? You want to be a traitor?!” he said with venom in his words.

“I’m no traitor when my loyalty doesn’t lie with you anymore.” Y/N proclaimed, even though she knew it would only draw the young leader closer to her. He was indeed very proud of her at this moment — holding her with his free hand and covering her shaking body partially. Hearing her words, made him push her to his back even closer.

“Very well,” Wang Zimò seethed. He hated to lose, but he knew better than to start another fight right now. “I shall see you at the wedding, daughter,” he said coldly, letting her cut hair fall to the ground, and took the first steps towards the door.

“Kai let’s go. I shall deal with you at home.” He spat, not even looking back.

“You do not command me no more, uncle,” said Kai, standing his ground.

“What did you say?!” The elder Wang turned back to him.

“Mother’s dying wish was for me to stand with Y/N and Mins,” he said, not even looking into his eyes. Y/N’s breath hitched again. Now she understood Kai’s betrayal of her father. Firstly, when he helped her escape and now when he pointed his gun at his head for hurting her.

Her father was furious, but he couldn’t do anything about it. The dying wish was to be honoured by the family, no matter what. His sister had known exactly what she was doing in her lifetime and beyond.

He clenched his fist, his anger reverberating through the room as his knuckles collided with the nearby wall. The force of the impact made Y/N flinch within the firm grip of the young leader.

“I’m proud of you, daughter,” he unexpectedly said, his words hanging in the air, surprising everyone. Her father never uttered such words. Her eyes widened in disbelief. But his next words shattered any hope of genuine warmth.

“You escaped me and outsmarted me. I’m truly mesmerised by how you’ve finally grown to a person who can stand up to me,” his tone devoid of any affection.

“Shame you were born female,” he sneered, his words dripping with misogyny. Disgust flashed in her eyes as she stared at him.

“Will you outsmart and escape him?”

A question she doesn’t have an answer to.

A battle she had yet to fully think through.

I N T E R L O G U E

“You are a thorn in my side, Mr Min,” said the older man to the scarred leader of this territory. Yoongi stood by the window, a glass in his hand, his arm stretched out to touch the wall next to it. He was looking over at the Wongudan, the Temple of Heaven, which stood proudly just meters away from the hotel. A place he couldn’t wait to stand at the altar, tying the knot with his beloved.

“And I won’t be for much longer if you agree to my terms,” he positioned himself to face the Chinese triad leader.

“My own kin betrayed me. My sister,” the older male said in disbelief, as if he were talking more to himself than to Yoongi.

“Your sister was a very wise woman. She knew that this was the better option.”

“You slaughtered my men—”

“And you slaughtered mine. My father within them, may I add,” Yoongi interjected, growing angrier with each passing moment. He felt the pain in his chest, remembering the day his father passed away.

“I have every reason to kill you and your clan—”

“Y/N is part of our clan too, boy,” he retorted, attempting to ridicule him. Wang Zemo could not oversee the young leader’s affections towards his daughter. From the way he spoke about her to the visible tense of his body once her name was uttered.

“That would change sooner or later,” said Yoongi, his determination shining through yet again.

“She is hard to manage. Are you sure you want a wife who will constantly challenge you?” He pushed his round eyeglasses up.

“I have my ways to humble her,” he replied, knowing well that he would have to assert his authority to make her a fine wife. A loving one, perhaps, in time. She had been allowed to spread her wings too far for his liking, encouraging her to disobey any authority, not just him.

“You must have been in my sister’s favour when she gave you Y/N, knowing that she was betraying her clan.”

“Or saving you, Mr Wang. Her ulterior motive was to save your clan—”

“That could have been ensured in the treaty with Yamamotos.”

“Do you really think that would work out? They’re Japanese, too proud to be the ruling country.”

“—not for much longer. Least according to your master plan, you made with my beloved sister.” he said, mocking the entire situation.

The young leader remembered and strongly believed the words of the older female that loved his bride so dearly. She would never do anything that would hurt her, and he wished Y/N will understand that and come along once she will get the know the truth.

“If a single thing goes wrong in your little plan, Mr Min, you’re as good as dead.”

“The same goes for you, Mr Wang,” Yoongi replied, his voice filled with unwavering resolve.

to be continued

author’s note: uf, I hope you had some time to process the two previous chapters in and I promise I'll let you breathe out before I'll throw chapter four at ya ♥

Thank you so much for any comment, reblog or simply showing love to this fic. It means the world to me ♥ Let's join a hate train for Y/N's father together, he makes Yoongi look like the good guy here, whatcha think?

Also I tried to add everyone who asked to the tag list, and if you want to be in too or you ain't tagged properly, comment or dm ♥ For some undisclosed reason, I cannot tagg few accounts, if someone knows why, pls hit me up.

Sending a big shout-out to Bex, the queen @chaoticpuff17, for beta reading this chapter!

Love you!!!!

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.

let's be friends chummers ♥

lots of love,

𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

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