#only 7 eyes sunglasses

[thegreatyin]

art i made ages ago and never posted because of various reasons but y'know what. it's time to get a little silly with it. big glowing silly birds angels

[drinkinggblood]

my friends forced my hand to make a trollsona 😨😨😨

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

[radiance1]

Danny wears sunglasses 24/7.

So much so that slowly it's been ingrained into everyone's minds that he's never taken them off. Like, they can't even remember a time where he hasn't worn sunglasses.

It's just like, his thing.

Why does he wear them? Well, because Danny's previous blue eyes changed to a startling, glowing green that he knows the GIW would eat up and use as a reason to force him into their custody.

Solution?

Sunglasses.

His parents? Oh yea they went all in when he they found out why he was wearing them (Reveal gone right au babyy). They made them extremely durable; they can film audio, take pictures, take videos, see through walls and even track down ecto-signatures for whenever he's tracking down a ghost in human form, see through walls and self-cleaning.

(The ectoplasm tracking system is for when they aren't close enough to set off his ghost sense.)

He honestly believes his parents watched a spy movie before they built him these, but it's not like he's going to complain about it. The only time he isn't wearing them is when he goes ghost, you know as a way to not link him to Fenton or whatever.

So, Danny meets John Constantine while the both of them were on the hunt for a ghost who was causing problems in the area. Danny manages to find them first, the ghost in question being an animal who was terrorizing a place because it didn't understand the fact it was dead yet and wanted to protect it's children.

John Constantine comes while Danny is pacifying it. He watches as Danny calms it down enough to get to the babies and sends it to the Ghost Zone after promising it to get them somewhere safe.

John Constantine also saw his eyes, because he pulled his sunglasses off to show them to the ghost as a silent sign to trust him. John Constantine of course asked what he was going to do with the babies, and Danny just sent them over to Sam.

After that he decided to keep an eye on Danny because of his eyes. Which were the eyes of a ghost, and he was genuinely thinking Danny was possessed before that went out the window. So he thinks Danny is a ghost pretending to be human and wasn't able to hide his eyes so he wore sunglasses.

Danny neither confirm nor deny that.

So Danny just kinda followed him around until Constatine eventually made him into a contact whenever he was dealing with ghosts that he could peacefully deal with instead of just forcefully banishing them to the Infinite Realms.

This, eventually, comes to light when Constantine goes "I know a guy." In front of the whole Justice League, bonus points if they somehow come to the conclusion that Danny is Constantine's secret child, sidekick or both.

[dorkszn]

7 MINUTES IN HELL + satoru gojo

SYNP — getting stuck with your ex-boyfriend during a dumb game of seven minutes in hell heaven

WARNINGS — amab reader, dom!top!reader, sub!bottom!gojo, brat gojo, porn w plot, forced proximity, pet names, dunk sex, drinking, smoking (weed), closet sex, fingering, orgasm denial, anal sex, college au, implied commitment issues, implied toxic relationship, gojo’s kinda an asshole, degradation, creampie, minor feminization | 3.8K words

A/N — my first time writing top reader i think 🥹🥹 I’m actually so proud of this

Everyone knows when and why the two of you broke up. If you can even call it a breakup. It was more of a tear-filled yelling session between a pair of friends with benefits. That’s how he described it. One where Satoru ended up walking out your front door and you dropped onto your couch with angry tears in your eyes.

Nobody questioned you guys afterward though. Suguru kept quiet, listening to Satoru whenever he ranted. Shoko sat beside you, sharing a cigarette and takeout with you. Haibara kept his usual self, forcing everyone into group activities. And Nanami who kept to himself, per usual.

The house was full to the brim of loud, drunk college students. Music blaring and the stench of alcohol intoxicated every inch of the air. Your typical party. Some people play beer pong in the basement of the home you knew all too well, some make out in the corners and crevices, and some dance with their friends in the middle of the living room you’d hung out in many times.

Haibara wasn’t particularly known for his parties but he had thrown a few good ones in the past few months. Some you had attended and some you decided to miss out on. You couldn’t miss this one though. No matter how badly you wished you could. Shoko dragged you here because she couldn’t say no to Haibara’s invitation. Which for some reason meant that you couldn’t say no either.

Currently, you stand in the kitchen, leaning against the counter as a girl you recognize as a lower classman speaks to you. “But yeah, Mr. Yaga is just—“ her words are interrupted by a small hiccup. “Such an asshole, you know? And I don’t even have his class!” She’s been stumbling and stammering the whole conversation but for some reason, she’s one of the only bearable people here.

“Ain’t that the truth,” You blandly chuckle, sipping at your drink and emptying your red solo cup. “Be right back.” You tell her through the boisterous tune playing through the house. You slide past a few people to make your way to the fridge.

You open it and let the cool air abduct you. A nice break from the stuffiness of the crowd. An arrangement of alcohol sits in front of you. Your gaze runs through it, trying to pick whatever stands out. A singular white claw catches your attention. You reach for it only to be interrupted by another’s hand grabbing it.

“What the he—“ you whip around to face the thief. Of course, it’s this bastard. White hair and black, circular sunglasses greet you along with a stupid signature grin.

“Oops, did you want this?” Satoru hums. He cracks the can open and takes a dragged-out sip of it. You roll your eyes at his typical antics, shutting the fridge.

“Fuck off, Gojo.” You scoff.

“Ow, last name basis, baby?” He hums, drinking from the can once more. You feel your blood beginning to boil in your veins. You push past him, knocking him back ever so slightly with the force.

“Don’t call me that.” You grumble. You make your way to the basement where you know Haibara would have more alcohol. Gojo chuckles and trails behind you.

“We’re playing some games upstairs if you wanna join.” He offers. You glance back at him with narrow eyes.

“With you? No thanks.” You hum, jogging down the stairs. A cup pong game runs in the large basement, a crowd building around it. The well-known jocks stand in the middle, being hyped up by their teammate.

You hold a prolonged stare at one of the jocks. He’d always caught your eye. “Really? Jocks don’t give a good fuck. I know they seem like it but they don’t.” Gojo suddenly speaks up again.

“Do you ever stop and think that some people want more than a fuck-buddy?” You hiss, turning to look back at the man. He gives you a softer look. Your past flashed through his mind. He sits in silence. You sigh and continue to the box of beer in the corner of the room. You grab a can and crack it open.

“Go find something to do, Gojo.” You mumble, leaving him in the basement.

An hour or two and a few more drinks in, you find yourself watching a UNO game running at Haibara’s dining table. Utahime sits in front of you, holding three cards in her hand. She might be the only other person that Gojo irritates more than you. A focused aura surrounds her, keeping you just a foot away from her.

“You got money on this game?” You ask her, glancing over her cards through slightly hazy eyes.

“Of course she does. As do I,” Another voice speaks up. Mei Mei sits just one seat away from Utahime, she holds just two cards in her hand. You can’t help but chuckle. Of course. Utahime is too competitive for her good and Mei Mei is one of the freakiest gold diggers ever.

Suddenly a hand lands on your shoulder. You turn at the weight and see Shoko. She holds up a plastic ziploc bag, with a small bundle of green inside of it. “Holy shit, Sho.” You slightly gasp with a grin.

The woman smirks back at you. “Found out my guy was here. Plus it was free, beat him in Smash Brothers for it.” She explains. If there was anyone to count on to find something to smoke, it was Shoko.

“Wanna go up? I hear Yu’s room is open.” She questions, gesturing to the stairs. You nod and give Utahime an encouraged pat on the shoulder. You and Shoko find your way through the crowd, squeezing past people kissing, and dancing. You finally make it to the stairs where two students sit at the bottom, one sitting in the other lap. Everyone’s gonna feel like shit on Monday.

You somehow make it up the stairs and follow Shoko’s guide. You find your friend’s room but Shoko stops you before you can open the door. “Don’t freak out, okay? I know that’s unlike you but still.” She murmurs.

You shoot her a confused look before shrugging. “Okay?”

Shoko nods and grabs the knob, opening the door. Haibara’s bedroom looks how it usually does. Suguru and Gojo sit on the bed, sharing a bag of chips between the two of them. Haibara is on the floor beside Nanami, running a game of shogi. You look over at Shoko and she furrows her brows. You sigh.

“Hey, I found y/n.” She hums to the group before closing the door behind the two of you. You awkwardly wave to your group of friends and join Shoko on the floor against the wall.

“Y/n, will you tell Kento that this can't move diagonally?" Yu huffs, showing you one of the game pieces.

“You know I don’t know how to play shogi.” You reply. Yu facepalms before nodding and turning back to the blonde. You watch as Shoko quickly works to roll the weed into the paper. You think she could do this in her sleep if she tried.

When done, she passes you the blunt and reaches for her lighter. “Shit.” You hear her mumble.

“Suguru, got a lighter?” You ask, focusing your gaze on him and only him. You see Gojo watching you out of the corner of your eye but ignore him. Suguru digs through the pockets of his baggy sweatpants, finding his old-fashioned flick lighter. He tosses it to you and you catch it in your right hand.

Shoko cups her hand around the flame as you hold it to the paper. It lights and you shut the lighter. Gojo’s staring at you, you can feel it. You place it between your lips and tuck the lighter in your pocket. You look back at him as you take a drag of the drug. You pass it to Shoko and gently blow out the smoke.

Gojo’s face flushes a soft pink before he turns his attention back to Suguru.

“Oh my god!” Haibara suddenly outbursts. You all turn to look at him. “Ok! Ok! Let’s play something else.” He seethes, frustration written on his face.

“Jeez, grab a beer, dude,” Shoko says, blowing smoke out from her lips.

“What d’you wanna play?” Gojo hums, clearly amused by the idea. Haibara ponders for a moment before his eyes settle on a hat on top of his dresser.

“I have an idea,” he smirks. He stands and grabs the hat then a piece of paper and a marker.

“I don’t like this.” Nanami groans, dragging a hand down his face. While Yu begins ripping up the photo, the door bursts open. An angry Utahime and a grinning Mei Mei enter.

“How’d the game go?” You hum, turning to the two girls. Utahime simply glares at you and you smile back.

“I ran her pockets of course,” Mei answers with a smug grin. Before Utahime can remark, Yu calls out.

“Ok! Everyone write their name on a piece of paper and put it in the hat,” Haibara tells you all, handing everyone a small piece of paper and Suguru a pen.

“We’re not children, Yu-Bara,” Shoko scoffs.

“Exactly. That’s why we’re playing big games,” he says excitedly. “Spin the bottle and seven minutes in heaven.” Everyone groans or sighs at his antics, except for Gojo. He laughs.

Reluctantly, you all scribble your names down and drop the folded papers within the hat. You all form a circle in the middle of Haibara’s room floor. Shoko on your right, Kento to your left, and the white-haired bastard across from you.

An empty beer bottle is placed in the middle of the circle. “Let’s keep this fun, guys. No fighting or arguing, alright?” Yu hums. You all nod and he grabs the bottle. It spins rapidly between you all. Everyone’s eyes trained on it. The bottle comes to a slow before stopping, the mouth of the bottle pointing at you.

A cloud of smoke leaves you with a sigh. “Of course.” You mutter. Yu then replaces the bottle with the hat of names. You look at the antsy expressions on your friends' faces before closing your eyes. Your fingers shuffle through the papers then grab one.

A combined “ouuuu” from Haibara, Gojo, and Mei Mei fills the room as you open your eyes. You roll your eyes at their childishness. Slowly, you open the small piece of paper.

‘Satoru ;)’

You’ve got to be fucking kidding. Your facial expression must’ve given away your thoughts because everyone stares at you oddly. Shoko leans over and reads the sheet. “Oh shit.” She gasps slightly.

You look up to meet blue eyes then flip the paper around for everyone to see. Numerous reactions leave the group. But you focus on the grin that covers Gojo’s face. “Well, isn’t it your lucky day?” He quips. He stands and holds his hand out to you. You take one last drag of the blunt before standing and ignoring his assistance.

“Sure is,” you mumble, smoke flowing through your words. Yu trails behind the two of you to the closet. You walk in first, Gojo following.

“Be nice guys! Have fun!” He waves with a taunting grin before shutting the door. You hear him push a chair up in front of it, preventing your escape. “Your seven minutes start now!” He yells, his voice slightly muffled by the door.

You hesitate through the darkness, trying to space yourself away from Gojo. “Just stay on your side for the next 7 minutes and we’ll be fine.” You sigh. Gojo pulls out his phone and turns on the flash, shining the bright light at you.

You wince at the light and put a hand up to shield your eyes. “You see the space we got? There aren’t any sides, sweetheart.” He scoffs, showing you the minimal space of the closet. He stands just about a foot and a half away from you. The proximity almost made your skin crawl.

“Why are you such an asshole?” You question, dragging a hand over your face.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. Most people disagree with you, y’know?” Satoru hums, flashing you a grin.

“Don’t call me that,” you hiss again. “Plus, most of those people don’t know you.”

“You didn’t seem to mind it the first time,” he snickers and you glare at him. “Besides, are you implying that you know me?”

“No, I thought I did but clearly not.” You grumble, folding your arms over your chest. Satoru ever-so-slightly frowns at this.

“C’mon man, it was just a misunderstanding,” Satoru sighs, pushing his snowy hair out of his face. A misunderstanding was a severe understatement. You couldn’t tell if it was the closet or the alcohol in your system but anger began to fuel your body. “And it’s not my fault you were naive.” He adds.

Before you can think about it, you’re grabbing his shirt and shoving him against the closet wall. His phone falls to the floor with a soft thud, the light illuminating the closet from the ground. Satoru swallows and looks at you with wide eyes. His hand grips your wrist.

“Sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to get you all worked up,” he apologizes with a smirk, gently tapping at your wrist. This bastard.

“I can’t fucking stand you, Satoru.” You seethe, bringing your face close to his. You didn’t want the others to hear and think something was going on.

“You say that and you still haven’t found anyone better than me,” The male replies, putting the two of you just inches apart. A sudden warmth surrounds you, your heart pounding in your ears. “You know you love how I make you feel.” He whispers.

He wasn’t wrong there. Every fuck after him just felt dull and you were left feeling bad for whoever you were with. And nobody pushes your buttons quite like Satoru does. Nobody makes you feel like he does. And you hate it.

“Fuck you,” you finally stammer out with a shaky breath. He lets out a low chuckle.

“You miss that, don’t you?” Satoru murmurs, his grin just inches away from your lips. You’d like to blame the alcohol for your next actions. But both of you know, your mind and body were craving the man in front of you. He was addicting.

You finally took him into a rough kiss, pulling a small sound from him. His lips feel so natural against yours. They feel no different than a few months ago. The two of you move so knowingly with each other, lips in sync. Satoru’s hands grip your shirt, slightly pulling at the fabric. One of your hands finds his waist while the other makes its way to his hair.

You tug on the snowy tufts, pulling a wince from the man’s throat. You slip your tongue past his lips, taking in every inch of him for the first time in a while. Your mind has every part of him engraved in it but your body longs to re-explore him once more. The taste of alcohol lingers on his tongue, matching yours.

You want to breathe him in more. Use him as your oxygen source instead of the small air supply of the closet. However, you pull on his hair once more and pull away from him. A string of saliva connecting the two of you. Your chest heaves up and down, pressing against his. You wonder if he can feel your racing heart.

“Missed you too, baby—“

“Shut up.” You say, voice stern. You pull at his belt with one hand, the other wrapping around his throat. Satoru lets out a weak groan as you undo his belt buckle. You move to his pants until they’re both loose around his waist. The waistband of his boxers reveals itself, as well as the slight bulge in the cotton.

You don’t loosen your grip on his neck when you lift two fingers to his lips. “Get 'em’ wet.” You mumble to him. Your fingers slip past his shining, pink lips and into his mouth. His tongue pressed against your fingerpads before swirling around your digits.

Satoru’s eyes stare straight into yours over the edge of his sunglasses. You feel your dick slightly twitch in your pants, making you swallow harshly. “So you do listen,” you hum. You pull your fingers out with a small ‘pop’ from him.

“When I want to—“ his words are interrupted again when you turn him around, his back facing you. You make quick work of pulling down his pants and boxers. Satoru’s back naturally arches when the cold air hits his skin.

You snicker in response with a small hiccup. “You’re such a slut, Toru,” you tell him as you reveal his hole to you.

“Shut the hell up.” He replies, his words breaking down into a moan when you spit on his entrance and push two fingertips past the ring of muscle. You push your fingers further, prodding at his walls.

“Shit, has anyone stretched you out since me? You feel exactly how I left you.” You grin cockily. Satoru grumbles curses in response and rolls his eyes. You scissor and part your fingers inside of him, stealing lewd noises from the man.

“Yeah… tons, guys way better than you.” Satoru pants, a faltering smile on his face as he glances back at you. You lean forward and bite down on the sensitive spot of his neck. His cry is like music to your ears, making you smirk against his skin. Your tongue laps over the reddening spot as your hand moves to his mouth, covering it with your palm.

“Quiet down, will you? Everyone already knows you’re a whore,” you hiss. You feel Satoru tighten around you, making you groan and his eyes roll. He’s close. “Gonna cum already?” You hum, quickening the pace of your fingers. Your digits curling inside of him.

“Ngh— fuck off,” Satoru mumbles, slightly moving his hips to fuck himself on your fingers. But you pull away, watching his entrance clench around nothing. A small gasp escapes the man. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He examines, turning his head to look back at you with a deep glare.

You scoff before reaching for your belt. “Nothing nearly as bad as whatever is wrong with you.” You reply, undoing your belt buckle and your pants zipper. You pull down your boxers that are slightly stained with your precum. Satoru swallows as he looks down at your growing erection, mouth practically salivating at the sight. A hungry lustful look in his bright blue eyes.

You tease Satoru’s entrance with your tip, just barely pushing into him and pressing kisses to the ring of muscle. Satoru lets out an annoyed whine, his hips squirming and pushing back against you. You groan when he desperately grinds against your length. “C’mon, just put it in.” He pleads.

“Such a needy boy,” you murmur. You push into him and his eyes roll back in his head as your cock fills him. Your breath shakes as it passes your lips, his walls tighten around your length. So warm and holding you just right. “Fuck Toru, you’re so tight.” You hiss in his ear, pressing a kiss against the skin.

“Just fuck me already.” He scoffs weakly, his chest slightly heaving against the closet walls. You wrap a hand around his throat and grip his hip with the other, your fingertips surely bruising where they sit. You pull out of him agonizingly slowly, taking inch by inch away from Satoru.

You then slam back into him to the hilt, a choked whimper leaving him. “Not such an arrogant bastard anymore.” You murmur before picking up your pace again. His muffled sounds don’t go unheard as you focus on the way your cock disappears into the plump flesh of his ass.

A harsh clap echoed throughout the closet with every collision of your hips. “agh— sweetheart, s’too good.” Satoru pants, hands clawing at whatever fabric was closest to him.

“Yeah? Who fucks you the best?” You hum, relentlessly as you buck your hips forward. Your leaking tip punctuating every time you hit that certain spot inside him. A spot you’d never forget.

“Shit, you do. You fuck me the best.” The snow-haired male whimpers. You shift your hand around his throat, pulling him right against you. A pornographic moan erupts from his throat. A noise everyone outside the closet definitely heard. Two of your fingers find their place in Satoru’s mouth again, pressing down on his tongue.

“Shh. Don’t want everyone to hear how much you love my dick, right?” You coo, running your tongue along the exposure of his neck. A muffled “mhm-mhm” leaves Satoru as his tongue focuses on your fingers occupying his mouth.

However, this can’t distract from the feeling of slamming into him. Spreading him apart and filling every centimeter of his insides, reaching sensitive spots he never knew even existed. The feeling of Satoru’s hand pushing against your abdomen doesn’t even register in your mind for seconds as you get lost in his cunt.

You take hold of his wrist and move it off of your flushed skin. “Take it, Toru. You know you can.”

“Can’t, m’fucking— gonna cum.” He babbles.

“Yeah? Go ahead, cum around my cock. Make a mess for me.” You tell him through a smug grin. Your hand drags down from his mouth to his dick, wrapping around it and pumping him to the rhythm of your thrust.

“Fuck, baby, missed you so so much.” Satoru groans before ropes of cum spurt from his tip. His eyes squeeze shut so tight and his body trembles against you. His seed coating your hand and fingers.

“So fucking sloppy.” You mewl, feeling your balls clench as you stuff yourself into Satoru to the hilt. You bite down on his neck as you release in him, stuffing him to the brim with your cum.

A weak whine pulls from Satoru when you finally pull your teeth out of his neck and lap your tongue over the spot.

The two of you sit in your mess, the smell of sex and sweat intoxicating the small space. You can feel Satoru’s heart racing in his chest. You just sit for a moment until you go limp within him before pulling out. Satoru leans against the closet wall, lips glossy with spit and eyes hazed over with lust.

Suddenly, he gives you a weak grin. And you can’t help but drunkenly smile back. Idiot. You glance down and see your cum beginning to dribble out of him. Satoru grunts when you push a finger into him, assuring your seeds place inside of him.

“Missed you too, baby.”

[inktopuck]

juno | quinn hughes social media au (pt.7)

pt.6

_quinnhughes

Liked by elblue06, yournamehughes and others

_quinnhughes mornings at home

colecaufield HOW IS SHE THIS BIG ALREADY

yournamehughes we give her fertilizer and water

l_hughes06 when quinn finally let you be the small spoon @yournamehughes

yournamehughes he chose rock instead of scissors

l_hughes06 classic quinn L

jackhughes how did you even get this picture

yournamelastname luke is staying in the guest bedroom and thought it would be cute to wake us up by jumping on our bed and getting this

jackhughes luke are you fucking 4

l_hughes06 i'm a 9 on a good day

matthew_tkachuk that bedhead is giving me baby fever

trevorzegras real, might have to start procreating too

_quinnhughes please don't

yournamehughes

Liked by _quinnhughes, jackhughes and others

yournamehughes the hughes pout lives on

colecaufield genetics really got her good

jackhughes y/n please let me babysit please

yournamehughes why don't you ask your brother???

jackhughes he has a vendetta against me and you're the cool one

_quinnhughes you said she looked like a rat when she was born

yournamehughes in all fairness newborns do look like rats, quinn

_quinnhughes not ours!!!!

eliaspettersson this is the face he pulls when he gets to practice because he just wants to be with her 24/7

yournamehughes my heart 😭

trevorzegras the side eye has been mastered as well

jackhughes

Liked by elblue06, nicohischier and others

jackhughes WOOOOOOOOOOO #bellytime

yournamehughes PLEASE go slow and PLEASE be careful or i swear to god i will hunt you down and remove your hair follicle by follicle

jackhughes leave my hair out of this

trevorzegras meowwww momma bear get him

_quinnhughes dude bears do not say meow what did they teach you in kindergarten

l_hughes06 those sunglasses are hideous

jackhughes you're only saying that because i beat you to buying them

l_hughes06 false, they're fugly

jackhughes you're fugly

alexturcotte didn't you use to drive cole around like this

colecaufield oh my god we get it i'm small move on

yournamehughes

Liked by _quinnhughes, l_hughes06 and others

yournamehughes so it starts 😮‍💨 #hockeymom

_quinnhughes i love her so much

elblue06 little bit of a full circle moment ❤️

yournamehughes i am so glad she had you to teach her how to skate ❤️

elblue06 are you kidding me? i wasn't about to let my boys take the wheel on that, have you seen how much they fall on the ice 😫

jackhughes mom what the fuck 😭😭

elblue06 don't swear at me young man

jackhughes sorry mom

l_hughes06 tell her her godfather is very proud of her

bboeser belly is coming in today? YAY

_quinnhughes you're never this excited to see me

bboeser you're not a cute kid

eliaspettersson AHHHH BELLS!!! i got swedish candy in my stall

_quinnhughes no candy before dinner

eliaspettersson shut up old man

canucks we can't wait to see Isabel crush the old guys! #bellytime

pt.8

[beanxiv]

satoru gojo who has the biggest sweet tooth ever but won't hesitate to offer you a bite of his kikufuku-- even though it's his favorite.

satoru gojo who, when you shake your head to him buying you an expensive gift, buys it for you anyways, because no amount of money will be more valuable than seeing you happy with a what he's bought you. especially when he knows its his name on the card that's being slid through the reader to purchase whatever it is you set your eyes on.

satoru gojo who readily pulls his blindfold/sunglasses off in your presence because only you quiet the overlapping, draining echoes in his head.

satoru gojo who peppers you with kisses for as long as you let him, because you deserve to feel just how much adoration he has for you.

satoru gojo who takes you out to gorgeous high-end restaurants, having the both of you dress up just as gorgeously. not to mention, throughout the night you'll hear endless compliments of how "that outfit really compliments your figure," or how, "that color makes your eyes look so pretty." and so on and so forth, satoru can't run out of compliments when you give him so much to talk about

satoru gojo who is the best at princess treatment. do not try opening your own door around him. he will do somersaults to get there before you can. you know those tiktoks of people rolling over the top of the car and dropping onto the ground to open the door for their significant other? yeah, that's satoru.

satoru gojo who surprises you with those giant, beautiful bouquets that have money and your favorite snacks in them because he loves to see your expression when he hands it to you

satoru gojo who loves to show you off. he'll send the gc with him, shoko, and suguru endless texts about how he loves his s/o so much and how he's so lucky to have them. and he sends especially petty messages sometimes about how suguru and shoko are still single while he's happily married (he'll say this before you're even engaged)

satoru gojo who used to not get flustered by anyone because-- well he's satoru gojo-- he's the one who gets people all flustered up. but when you came into his life? try as he might to talk smooth and be flirty, you turned him into a stuttering mess sometimes. he'd play it off when he got lucky, but whenever you caught him off guard? he'd blush to his ears, glancing away and all.

satoru gojo who always texts you if he's at the store to ask if you want him to pick up something for you while he's there.

satoru gojo who, if you're sick, will act like you're dying in his arms. he'll panic, rushing around to get you medicine, whatever snacks you're craving, etc. he showers you in kisses and cuddles like they'll be his last

alternatively, satoru gojo who, when he gets sick, demands attention 24/7. you're not there when he wakes up? he'll pout and be upset until he's had his fill of your cuddles. loves when you feed him while he's sick, it makes him feel so loved and taken care of.

satoru gojo who loves when you ask for his opinion. which outfit is nicer? well both of them look perfect on you, but that one brings out your skin tone. which show should you watch? what about the one where you'll love to watch together? it makes him feel so important when you ask what he prefers.

satoru gojo who kicks his feet and giggles when he gets a text from you. he's on a mission with suguru, shoving his phone in suguru's face giggling over whatever you said. the phone is so close to his face that whatever is on the screen isn't even legible at this proximity but it makes satoru skip like a little schoolgirl as he and suguru walk to wherever they've been assigned to.

satoru gojo who asks shoko for advice since she's a friend of yours. asking her questions like, "should I get them this or this?" or "do they like this or this better?"

satoru gojo who starts a book or tv series just because you recommended it to him. because when has his beautiful partner ever steered him wrong? this applies for any advice you've given him too

satoru gojo who makes you an example for megumi. "see this, megumi? your standards should be this high! look how perfect y/n is, you should find you a partner like that too!"

satoru gojo who shows you megumi's picture album of when he was younger because he loves to see the two most important people in his life bonding, even if it means embarrassing megumi.

on that note, satoru gojo who's apartment is filled with photos of you and megumi and all his friends and family, and his phone's wallpaper is a picture of you too

satoru gojo who watches old tapes of you and him in high school together a lot whenever you're on missions without him. the nostalgia makes him miss the times when everything was okay in high school, but it also makes him so grateful that he finally managed to make you his after pining for you for so long

satoru gojo who's possessive but in a boastful way, you posted a tiktok? he's the first like, comment, and save. spams your comment section saying, "THATS ACTUALLY MY S/O" and whatnot because he's absolutely obsessed with you

satoru gojo, the strongest sorcerer, who is absolutely no match for you because the moment you make eye contact with him, he just goes weak and can't say no to a single request of yours

©beanxiv — all rights reserved. copying, reposting, translating, and modifying in any platform or by any means is not allowed.

[just-aake]

A Feline Connection Part 2

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha has an unexpected reunion while on a mission.

Masterlist Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

Warnings: light fluff, slight angst, mention of gun

Words: 4703

Natasha sits at a small outdoor table, blending effortlessly with the weekend crowd outside a nondescript café. Dressed casually in a simple jacket, jeans, and sunglasses, she appears to be just another city dweller enjoying a quiet morning coffee.

Beneath the surface, however, her sharp eyes remain focused on the apartment building across the street, subtly monitoring every individual entering or leaving. 

The team had received a tip suggesting that one of the building’s occupants might have ties to the city’s criminal underworld and could possess some information about an upcoming weapons deal they were investigating.

Natasha’s mission is to uncover more, though the lead is vague. They only know that the target supposedly resides in this area, leaving Natasha with little to do but wait and watch for anything suspicious.

Maintaining her undercover guise, Natasha casually lifts her coffee cup to her lips. Just as the rim touches her mouth, she feels a gentle nudge against her leg. 

Startled, she frowns slightly and glances under the table to investigate.

Wide, familiar yellow eyes stare back at her, unblinking.

For a second, Natasha considers the possibility that it’s just a coincidence. 

There must be dozens of black cats in the city, but when her gaze shifts to the sleek gold tag hanging from the cat’s collar, she reads the ironic name engraved on it.

Widow meows, placing her paw on Natasha’s leg and nudging her again, this time with more insistence, as if greeting an old friend.

Natasha can’t help the small smile that tugs at her lips.

“Hey, it’s been a while,” she murmurs, lifting Widow onto her lap. She gently scratches behind the cat’s ears, feeling the soft, familiar fur beneath her fingers. 

“Did she lose you again?” Natasha asks the cat with a slight chuckle.

Before Natasha can react, a soft, amused huff appears near her ear, followed by a low voice.

“Is that really how you think of me?”

Natasha starts slightly, momentarily caught off guard by the fact that she hadn’t sensed your approach. She turns her head to find you standing beside her with an amused smirk, your eyes gleaming with playful mischief.

You reach out and gently push the bridge of her sunglasses up, fully covering her eyes. 

“Does this disguise really fool anyone?” you tease.

Natasha clears her throat, recovering her composure quickly, though she still feels a slight heat on her face caused by your close proximity.

“It works well enough,” she replies smoothly as you move to the other side of the table.

You chuckle, casually resting your hands on the back of the empty chair across from her, raising a brow in question.

“Mind if we join you?” you ask, your voice carrying that familiar blend of ease and flirtation.

Natasha hesitates, her eyes flicking toward the apartment building she’s been watching all morning. She knows she should stay focused on the mission, but the unexpected reunion with you and the cat resting in her lap has thrown her off balance. 

Noticing her hesitation, you lean forward, your voice dropping to a whisper. 

“You know,” you say, glancing around dramatically before locking eyes with her, “it’s a lot less suspicious if you’re sitting with someone.”

Your knowing grin makes Natasha sigh, but still, the corners of her mouth twitch upwards in amusement. She gives a small nod toward the empty chair across from her.

“Alright,” she concedes. “But Widow stays with me.”

The black cat meows as if in agreement, her body brushing more snugly against her lap.

You grin wider, pleased at her acceptance, and pull out the chair to settle in across from her, the faintest glint of fondness softening your gaze at the two of them.

“I wouldn't dare argue with either of you.”

As Widow curls up, her purring reverberates softly in Natasha’s lap as she strokes the cat’s fur. 

After a long morning of heightened vigilance, this unexpected visit brings a strange but welcome sense of calm. The tension in her body unravels as she savors this brief moment of normalcy, an unusual pause in her otherwise relentless routine. 

“So,” you begin, your voice pulling her back from the quiet comfort of the moment, “who are you watching?”

Natasha’s gaze sharpens, but she keeps her tone casual, taking a sip of her coffee before responding, “Who says I’m watching anyone? I’m just here for the coffee.”

You raise a brow, your smile growing. 

“Right. Because the Black Widow spends her weekends blending in with civilians, sipping coffee, and definitely not on a mission.”

“Exactly,” Natasha replies smoothly with a smirk.

Releasing an exaggerated sigh, your expression turns mockingly disappointed as you remark.

“And here I was, thinking you sought me out specifically.” 

Widow lifts her head at your words, releasing a chastising cry in offense. 

“Sorry,” you amend, glancing at the cat with an exaggerated roll of your eyes. “I mean, us.” 

Natasha chuckles at the exchange, allowing herself to indulge in the banter to steer the conversation away from her mission. 

“Isn’t it more likely the other way around? After all, you approached me first,” she counters with a teasing smirk. 

You scoff playfully. “Ah, I see—someone’s pretty confident in herself.”

Raising a brow, Natasha gestures pointedly to the cat nestled comfortably in her lap. 

“I’m just basing it on facts. Why else would you name your cat after me?” 

You narrow your eyes, a playful glint returning.

“Who says she’s named after you?” 

Natasha’s smirk widens as she leans back, clearly enjoying the upper hand. 

“You’re not denying it.”

“And I’m not admitting it either,” you shoot back, leaning forward with a grin, resting your chin on your hand as you meet her eyes.

“It’s alright,” Natasha teases with a nonchalant shrug. “I’ve had my fair share of admirers. There’s no shame in being a fan.” 

With an amused scoff, you gesture toward the apartment building as you reply with a sarcastic tone.

“Yes, you’ve caught me. My apartment is filled with Black Widow merch,” you smirk at her, adopting a playfully serious expression.

Your words make Natasha pause in her playful banter, her brows knitting slightly at the casual mention of your home. She glances briefly at the building she’s been watching, remembering the intel she received.

“You live here?” she asks, her tone more curious than accusatory.

Widow raises her head at her and lets out another indignant meow, clearly displeased by the oversight.

Natasha pets the cat’s head gently, an apology in her touch. 

“Sorry,” she corrects, “the two of you live here?” 

“Yep, third floor,” you answer. “We were just on our way back when Widow spotted you.”

Widow meows again, almost as if confirming the information, nuzzling Natasha’s hand affectionately. 

At the new information, Natasha taps her fingers lightly on the tabletop, humming in thought. She wonders if the intel the team received might have been about you—or perhaps someone from your past. 

Before she can delve deeper into the idea, your hand slips over hers, gently stopping the movement.

“I’m not the one you’re looking for,” you say, your voice serious enough to catch her attention. 

There’s a knowing look in your eyes that Natasha recognizes but can’t fully understand. Yet, instinctively, she feels she can trust you—at least for now.

Natasha’s gaze drops to where your hand covers hers, feeling the warmth of your touch seep through her skin. The contact sends a familiar stirring through her, the same unexpected feeling that often rises whenever you’re near. 

She’s still not sure whether to welcome it or resist it.

Natasha looks back into your eyes, her curiosity piqued, ready to probe deeper with questions.

But before she can speak, you gently turn her hand over in yours, your fingers tracing light, random patterns across her palm.

“At your ten,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

Natasha’s pulse quickens, both from the delicate sensation of your touch and the subtle way you’ve pointed out something she missed.

Despite the distracting warmth radiating from your fingers, she discreetly shifts her gaze in the direction you indicated.

Sure enough, a man walks toward the apartment building, his posture tense, clad in a plain jacket and a cap pulled low over his face, clearly trying to avoid attention.

Widow’s body tenses in her lap and her ears flatten against her head as she lets out a low hiss in his direction.

Natasha attempts to soothe the cat’s nerves with gentle strokes.

“He moved in down the hall a few weeks ago,” you continue casually, not looking up, still focused on tracing her palm. “Seems normal enough, but I’ve recognized his type before.”

After calming Widow to the point where her tail is no longer lashing, Natasha’s eyes return to you.

“You’ve been watching him?”

With a faint sigh of exasperation, you reply, “Didn’t have much of a choice. He’s taken an…unwelcome interest in me lately.”

Curious, Natasha glances back at the man, her eyes narrowing as she observes him. As if sensing her attention, he pauses mid-step, his gaze locking onto your table—specifically, onto you.

His body language shifts, stiffening with barely concealed interest and tension.

Before Natasha can react, your fingers slowly and deliberately intertwine with hers. With a playful smirk, you lift her hand to your lips, pressing a soft kiss against her skin.

Natasha snaps her attention back to you, eyes widening in surprise at the unexpected gesture.

"Maybe that'll finally give him a hint," you remark nonchalantly, lowering your entwined hands back to the table as though the intimate moment were perfectly ordinary. 

Natasha blinks, momentarily thrown by the shift in dynamic.

A now familiar warmth rises in her cheeks, and she's grateful her sunglasses hide the flustered look creeping across her face.

Natasha clears her throat softly after a beat, regaining her composure. Glancing subtly in the man's direction, she's relieved to have a reason not to meet your gaze.

He’s no longer standing there—storming away instead, his frustration and confusion apparent in the hurried way he vanishes into the building.

Before Natasha can fully process everything that just happened, Widow hops onto the table. Her little paws rest on top of your joined hands as if wanting to be part of the moment. 

That touch settles her as she returns to her previous cool demeanor.

“You were using me,” Natasha accuses, her voice carrying a mix of mock indignation and dry amusement.

You grin, utterly unfazed. 

“And in return, I gave you valuable intel to move your little operation along.”

Natasha’s eyes narrow playfully with a slight huff. 

“You could’ve just told me from the start.”

Your smirk widens, your eyes gleaming with mischief. 

“But where’s the fun in that?”

Natasha shakes her head, her lips twitching upward in a reluctant smile. Despite your methods and actions, you did give her a new lead on her mission. 

Though, now she has to handle this new situation—the tension between you two.

Even though the man is gone, you haven’t released her hand, and she doesn’t pull away either. 

Something else lingers in the air between you, something unspoken but undeniable. 

Widow nudges her head against your hands as if offering her approval of the unfolding moment. 

Natasha’s gaze drifts to the cat before her eyes return to you, her expression softening.

“You two never came by the Compound after that night,” Natasha comments softly, her tone casual but tinged with a hint of disappointment.

You shrug lightly and reply with a sly grin, “I’m sure Stark didn’t appreciate how easily I bypassed his security system.”

Natasha chuckles lightly at the memory. 

“Telling him about that was the best part. You should’ve seen his face.”

You let out a soft laugh, the moment lingering in comfortable silence.

Eventually, you slowly release her hand, your fingers trailing against hers before pulling away completely. 

Standing up, you adjust your jacket with casual ease. 

“Well, now that you know where we live,” you say, nodding toward the building, “feel free to drop by whenever you’re not too busy saving the world.”

You gesture to the little cat, who’s now swatting lightly at Natasha’s coffee cup in a playful manner, adding, “I’m sure Widow wouldn’t mind your company.”

Natasha’s eyes twinkle with amusement, catching the cup before it could fall and giving the cat a tiny scratch on her head before returning her attention to you.

“Just her?” Natasha raises a brow, the question hanging between you with playful intent.

You don’t answer directly, but the slight smile on your face says enough. 

“Good luck with your mission, Miss Black Widow,” you say softly, your tone shifting to something more sincere before turning toward the apartment building. 

Widow gives her a soft meow goodbye before hopping off the table and climbing into your arms.

Natasha watches you walk away, her gaze lingering a little longer than necessary. Eventually, her mind returns to the mission but not without a fleeting thought of you.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha leans against the rooftop's edge, her eyes fixed on the target’s apartment in the building across her. The cool night air brushes against her face, but her focus remains sharp. 

You were right. The man you pointed out is involved with one of the organizations suspected of orchestrating a major weapons deal. His hidden familial ties and shady movements had confirmed it.

After bugging his phone and tracking his movements for days, Natasha discovered that tonight would be crucial—a drop-off containing the specs for some of the weapons in the deal and where they came from. 

She watches patiently as the man opens his door to receive a small package from an unknown figure.

The exchange is brief, and once the door shuts, the man places the package carelessly on his counter.

As Natasha considers a plan to obtain the package, something causes the man to tense, and he cautiously turns back toward the door. 

Her hand instinctively moves toward her own weapon, prepared to intervene when she spots him pull a gun, keeping it hidden behind his back as he cracks the door open again.

The man’s posture relaxes as he realizes who’s on the other side of the door, and he hides his weapon in the back of his waistband.

Natasha observes as his overly confident bravado takes over, and it becomes clear he’s trying to impress someone. 

Natasha’s view of the visitor is blocked, but judging by the man’s lowered guard, she assumes this person doesn’t pose an immediate threat. 

Whoever they are, though, they seem to hold some influence over him.

After a brief conversation that results in the man turning off the lights and slipping out of the apartment, led by the unseen visitor, Natasha seizes the opportunity to retrieve the package before he returns.

With practiced precision, she shoots her grappling hook across the gap between the buildings and swings silently onto the balcony outside the man’s apartment. Carefully picking the lock on the window, she slips inside without making a sound. 

But as she steps into the room, she quickly realizes something is wrong. 

The small package, which had been resting on the counter moments ago, is now gone. 

Natasha scans the area, her eyes darting around the room. 

Had it fallen somewhere?

A faint sound reaches her ears as Natasha walks around the room—movement just behind her.

She whirls around, gun raised, ready to face whatever threat is lurking in the shadows.

But the only thing she’s met with is darkness.

Her eyes narrow as her instincts scream that something is off. She’s sure she heard something.

She focuses on the shadows for a moment longer when a pair of familiar yellow eyes suddenly blink open, glowing softly in the dark. 

Natasha lowers her weapon, momentarily caught off guard by the sight.

Widow emerges from the darkness, its head tilted curiously as she approaches Natasha. The corner of the small package is clutched tightly in her mouth.

Natasha lets out an incredulous huff. 

“Really?” she mutters in disbelief as she kneels and waves the cat closer.

Widow trots over and jumps into Natasha’s arms without hesitation, the package still firmly between her teeth. 

Standing up, Natasha tries to pry the package from the cat’s mouth gently, but each time she reaches for it, Widow swats at her hand and shifts her head, making it impossible to grab.

“You’re not serious,” Natasha sighs, exasperated. 

But Widow only stares up at her with those wide, innocent eyes, completely unfazed by the situation.

Before Natasha can try again, she hears footsteps approaching from the hallway. 

Instantly, she reacts, slipping out of the window with Widow still in her arms, her movements quick and silent. She carefully closes the window behind her, ensuring everything looks untouched, before flattening herself against the outside wall.

The light flickers on inside the apartment, and Natasha hears voices. She listens closely, picking up snippets of conversation.

“Thanks again, I don’t know what I would have done without your help,” your voice floats through the window, laced with exaggerated helplessness.

It’s not like your usual demeanor and tone. You were clearly playing a part. 

“Anytime,” the man responds, his tone gruff, but Natasha can tell he’s trying too hard to sound confident. “You know, if it doesn’t work out with—” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I really have to go!” you interrupt quickly, your voice fading as you move toward the door. “Have a good night!” 

Natasha hears the door close with a soft click, signaling your exit. She waits a moment longer before making her own move, descending silently into the nearby alley below.

Landing with ease, she looks down at Widow, still cradled in her arms.

The cat is now lazily gnawing on the corner of the package, completely unbothered by the chaos of the situation. 

Her claws grip the package tightly, almost possessively.

Natasha shakes her head in disbelief, her lips curving into a small, amused smile despite herself. 

“You two have a lot of explaining to do,” she mutters, glancing at the apartment building.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

The moment you open the door, your eyes widen in surprise at the sight of Natasha standing there.

“A bit late for a visit, don’t you think?” you tease with a playful grin, leaning casually against the door frame, trying to mask your surprise.

But Natasha doesn’t return your smile. 

Instead, she tilts her head slightly, one brow arched with an unimpressed expression and pulls her jacket open just enough to reveal the black cat nestled comfortably in her arms. 

Widow is still clinging stubbornly to the small package in her claws. 

Your grin falters immediately, your gaze dropping from Natasha’s face to Widow and the damning evidence she’s holding. 

Realization hits you like a wave, and your once-confident smile dissolves into a look of sheepish acknowledgment.

“Oh,” you murmur, awkwardness settling in as you glance between Natasha's unimpressed stare and Widow's innocent eyes.

“Well,” you sigh, stepping aside to open the door wider, “you might as well come in.”

Natasha steps past you, her eyes sweeping the room in quiet observation. 

Your apartment is neat, save for the scattered cat toys littering the room. Natasha takes it all in quietly, her gaze eventually falling back on you—specifically, your night attire. 

You’re wearing a black oversized t-shirt and shorts, casual and comfortable, but it’s the symbol on the front of the shirt that grabs her attention.

“Nice shirt,” she comments, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

You glance down and immediately realize what she’s referring to—the iconic red hourglass symbol of the Black Widow emblazoned across your chest. Rolling your eyes, you cross your arms defensively over the logo. 

“This doesn’t prove anything,” you remark. “I’ve got shirts with the other Avengers symbols too.”

“Sure you do,” Natasha teases, clearly enjoying the moment before her attention shifts to the cat in her arms. She nods toward Widow, who’s still gripping the package as if it were a prized possession. 

“How do you get her to let go of things?” 

A proud grin spreads across your face at the cat’s actions.

Walking to the kitchen, you rummage through a cabinet, pulling out a small tube of cat treats before returning to Natasha’s side.

Tearing it open, you hand it to her.

Widow’s sharp yellow eyes instantly zero in on the treat. Natasha, intrigued, waves it in front of the stubborn cat. 

“How about a little trade?” she offers. 

The cat’s eyes follow the snack in contemplation. Slowly but surely, her grip on the package loosens, her claws retracting as she reaches a paw toward the treat.

Seeing the opportunity, Natasha quickly snatches the package and shakes out its contents—a USB drive, which she tucks into her jacket.

When Natasha still has not promptly given her reward, Widow yowls in protest, having already upheld her end of the deal.

Natasha huffs lightly at the exaggerated behavior but relents and offers the treat to the eager cat, who devours it with delicate bites.

“I guess that means mission accomplished,” you quip, attempting to bring some levity back into the room. 

But Natasha doesn’t laugh. She glances up at you, her expression shifting as her playful demeanor fades. 

“You said you didn’t do this kind of thing anymore,” she says, her voice edged with accusation. 

You shrug, hands raised in defense.

“Technically, I didn’t,” you reply, though Natasha’s piercing stare cuts through your weak deflection.  

With a tired sigh, you rub the back of your neck before continuing, "Remember that post I asked you to take down?"

Natasha nods slightly, her eyes never leaving yours, silently urging you to continue.

“Well, some of my old associates saw it before you did. And let’s just say…we didn’t part ways on the best of terms.”

Natasha places the finished snack on the table, her fingers moving to absently scratch behind Widow’s ears as she processes the situation. Her eyes narrow, her tone shifting to something more serious as concern creeps into her voice.

“So, they’re forcing you to steal for them?”

You lean back against the counter, exhaling a heavy breath.

“They have leverage,” you reveal cryptically. “If I don’t cooperate...things get complicated.”

Her fingers pause in Widow’s fur, her expression hardening as the situation sinks in. 

“Then why help me? Wouldn’t that put you at risk?”

You manage a wry smile.

“If the Avengers get involved, they can’t hold it against me, right?”

You gesture toward her, adding teasingly, “I mean, what can one simple thief do against Earth’s mightiest heroes?”

Natasha shakes her head, frustration and disbelief mixing in her features.

“That doesn’t guarantee they’ll leave you alone.”

“And like I told you before,” you say, voice soft but resolute, “let me handle it. You’ve played your part. Now go be a hero to someone else.”

Natasha huffs, more in disbelief than anger.

“So you used me. Again.”

Her tone has no malice, but the sting of truth lingers.

You step closer and reach out to adjust the collar of her jacket. Your fingers brush her skin, lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

“Like I said,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, “you shouldn’t get involved with someone like me.”

Widow purrs contentedly in the stillness, oblivious to the tension in the room, nuzzling against Natasha’s hand affectionately.

Natasha’s gaze softens slightly at the sight of the cat—remembering what you once said about Widow being a good judge of character. 

If this little creature, with all her instincts, trusts someone with a past like hers, then surely there must be a similar reason she chooses to be with you.

When Natasha looks up, her eyes lock onto yours, steady and unwavering.

“What if I want to be?” she asks quietly, her voice laced with something far more than just concern.

Your breath catches, the vulnerability in her words taking you by surprise. You quickly school your expression, forcing neutrality even as your heart pounds in your chest.

Natasha steps closer, the heat of her body brushing against yours as close as she can, her gaze piercing.

“Do you want me to be?” she asks softly, the challenge clear in her tone.

For a moment, you meet her gaze, steady and unrelenting, but your eyes betray you. They flicker, just briefly, to her lips.

Natasha catches it. Her lips part slightly, and the air between you thickens with tension, both of you standing on the precipice of something neither can quite name.

But you break first.

You step back, clearing your throat as if that could dispel the weight of what just passed between you.

“As tempting as that is,” you say, your voice thick with the emotions you’re trying so hard to suppress, “I can’t let anyone else get caught up in this.”

Natasha doesn’t move, her eyes searching yours for more explanation.

However, you reach for Widow instead, gently lifting the cat from her arms, using the small creature as a shield between you.

“This one’s already enough trouble,” you joke weakly.

Natasha’s gaze lingers, watching you with a mix of exasperation and something deeper—something you refuse to name. She tilts her head, her voice soft.

“You know my job is to help people, right?”

You swallow hard, the playful smirk returning, though it feels hollow.

“And I’ll let you know if I ever need it.”

Natasha narrows her gaze, unconvinced. “Really?”

Rolling your eyes, you offer a small concession. 

“Fine. Check in whenever. You’ve got my number, remember? And I’ll even send you cute pictures of Widow often to keep you from worrying too much.” 

Widow chooses that moment to let out a soft meow, raising her paws beside her face as if on cue.

Natasha’s stern expression falters, a tiny smile tugging at her lips at the sight. But even as she shakes her head in resignation, the tension between you both lingers, unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

With a small sigh, Natasha accepts your decision and steps toward the door. As she reaches for the handle, she pauses, her hand hovering there momentarily before turning to look at you again.

“If you ever decide that you don’t have to handle everything on your own,” she says softly, “you know where to find me.” 

You nod, your mask of indifference slipping back into place.

“You’d be the first one I’ll call,” you promise playfully.

Natasha lingers for a moment longer, her eyes searching yours for something that never comes. She finally opens the door and steps through, pausing briefly before turning back to you.

“Take care of yourself. Both of you,” she whispers before leaving, the door clicking softly behind her. 

The room feels emptier in her absence, the warmth of her presence fading.

Widow stirs in your arms, hopping onto the counter and letting out a soft, sad sound as if sensing the change in the air.

You lean heavily against the counter, exhaling a deep breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Natasha's words replay in your mind, sinking deeper into your heart than you will admit. 

But as always, you push it aside. There’s no room for doubt, no space for second-guessing—not in your world.

Uncurling your fist, the USB falls from your hand—swapped from Natasha’s pocket with another containing misleading data. 

Widow trots over to the item on the counter, nudging it with her paw before turning to you, letting out a sharp meow, almost as if scolding you.

“I know,” you sigh, guilt settling in as you scoop her back into your arms.

You stroke her gently, your hand brushing over a slightly raised patch of fur. The reminder of what's beneath fills you with concern for the little feline and your position.

Widow meows again, tilting her head curiously, oblivious to your worry. You force a reassuring smile, though it never quite reaches your eyes.

As your gaze drifts toward the window, your expression falters. You watch Natasha’s silhouette disappear into the shadows, a heavy sigh escaping your lips.

“She really shouldn’t get involved with someone like me,” you whisper sadly, giving Widow one last scratch behind the ears before turning away.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

a/n: I have decided to make this into a series. It's probably not going to be like my other one with extensive plotlines and such (I don't think). But maybe leaning more toward light-hearted adventures and interactions between the two (and Widow). Thanks again for reading! I hope you'll enjoy this series too!

[voonroo]

I have an idea! Only do it if you feel comfortable though 🙌🏻 no pressure

Teen reader with Alastor who have this father-daughter bond. Teen reader has never really 'acted out' in a sense. At least not in ways expected of in a sinner. Always had manners, polite, and reserved, yet was always open and honest with Alastor.

Now imagine reader out on the town doing some errands and they overhear a demon talking some nasty crap about Alastor. For the first time, they let their anger get the better of them and get into a fight with the demon. Not without a few cuts and bruises though, poor thing.

Reader not wanting Alastor to get angry or disappointed at them decide that it's best that just this one, they won't mention anything. They'll not tell him this one thing. It won't hurt. He won't know!

Yet it's Alastor. And he always knows. Mainly because they're reading sunglasses inside and trying (failing) to cover up a limp.

Are Ya Winning Child?

⌐‣Alastor & Teen Reader REQ.

Want more? Check out the masterlist↩︎

AUTHOR’S NOTE: KSNAKXNSM I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS I AM LIVING FOR THESE REQUESTS. I ACTUALLY HAD TO TAKE BREAKS WRITING THIS TO BREATHE. I WAS GENUINELY TWEAKING LIKE ALASTOR WAS THIS LAST EPISODE WRITING THIS.

Alastor & Teen Reader

You had always been one to hold your tongue and watch your actions. To not act out on rashness. That's how you had always been, even before ending up in hell. You had always been known for your good manners, even as a kid and it's only become more solidified in your character as you grew.

Then why was it so hard to not beat the living shit out of the demon in front of you.

There's no way they didn't know you were connected with the infamous radio demon in some way. Maybe they had seen you and him out and about here recently and knew you two had a connection. People are more courageous than ever to question Alastor’s authority since his 7-year absence.

Maybe the demon is just trying to get a rise out of you. Sinners, who were once people, tend to poke and prod at what they don't understand. “How could some random teenage sinner be so close to the radio demon? Maybe they have a deal? The poor soul probably got tricked…” You've heard it all by now.

But, every time someone said something would be in hushed whispers that were easy to ignore. However, it can be quite hard to ignore some random drunkard spouting lies from his lips. And straight to your face too.

“He’s probably got your ass on a leash doesn't he?” and “Oh! If he's so powerful—” There were a few loud noises, maybe a scream or two.

What…? Oh shit.

The walk back to the hotel was not fun. You really should have just ignored him. Silencing him was not worth the pain you had in your leg and the ache you felt. You're pretty sure you got a black eye too.

By the time you arrive, you have adorned sunglasses on your face come up with an idea as to why you have them, and practiced how to hide your limp until you at least got up the stairs.

By telling those who questioned your weird behavior, “Oh someone was giving out free sunglasses they didn't want anymore so I took one.” and walking past your sorry excuse of trying to hide a limp, you finally made it to your room.

However, you didn't have peace for long until a familiar knock sounded at your door. Quickly throwing back on your sunglasses, you heard Alastor’s static voice through the door.

“I heard you arrived back from town just a few minutes ago!” Oh, he's definitely already on your trail…

You walked- well more so limped, over to the door. Signing in defeat before tossing the sunglasses on your bed.

Fuck it, he probably already knows.

Opening the door, you were immediately met with the radio demon himself. His eyes already shooting up and down your figure. From your leg to your black eye.

“May I come in?” It sounded like more of a command rather than a question. Without much thought, you opened the door wider before going back over to your bed and sitting down on the edge. Staring blankly ahead like a guilty child who got caught with their hand in a cookie jar. There's no point in trying to argue that you're fine when you know Alastor will just keep pestering you until you tell him.

Sitting down next to you, Alastor sat with you in silence for a moment. As if giving you the chance to speak up first, but when you didn't he let out a soft sigh before gently cupping your face, turning your head to look at him.

“What happened.” The average sinner would have been scared shitless at his tone, but you were only mildly frightened. However, there was definitely ill intent behind his smile. He knows you didn't just do this to yourself. You had to have a reason, you don't usually act out of line.

“I got into a fight.” His hand dropped from your face as you spoke, his smile growing wider before he let out a chuckle. His shoulders slightly shaking and his eyes closed in euphoria. His next words were clear when he spoke, looking you in the eyes.

“And did you win?”

“Yeah…?”

Another chuckle left his lips, though, it sounded more like a childish giggle. His hand raised again, landing on your head before ruffling your hair. A proud smile on his face.

“Good.”

Word Count: 735

[vinvantae]

Could you write the f1 grid reactions to their girlfriend enjoying privacy and not wanting to be in the spotlight at gps? Like for example choosing to go to the regular audience instead of the garage to watch races etc to avoid excessive cameras? If you don't want to do all could you do either Charles, Lewis, or Lando?

I won’t do all the drivers because I think there’s only so many reactions but I will do the three you’ve requested 🥰 sorry for the delay I’ve had a lot of stuff on recently!

***

Charles

Charles watched from across the room as you pulled your Ferrari cap over your head, adjusting it so you could slip your sunglasses on and off with ease. The two of you had been together for nearly two years now, but you had still never set foot inside the paddock - and whilst he understood your reasons, the selfish part of him really wanted you there this weekend. He was starting his home race from P1 and he was positive he had a real shot this year.

He cautiously stepped towards you, taking your hips in his hands so he could press a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to join me in the garage, mon ange?” He hummed, resting his cheek against yours as you met his eyes in the mirror.

“Mhmm, I quite like being surrounded by your adoring fans.” You giggled, tilting your head so he could press kisses to your neck. “The roars of Monegasque feel all the more thrilling when you’re a part of it. Their home hero starting on pole? No way I’m missing out on that.”

Charles let you turn in his arms, your arms coming up to loop around his neck - you couldn’t help but smile at the fond look in his eyes as he looked at you. He really wished you were going to be at the barriers, so he could wrap you up in his arms when he finally won, but he knew all the cameras in your face would be too much for you.

“I’ll always respect your decision to enjoy the race from the grandstands, as long as you know if you ever change your mind, there’s a special spot in the back of my garage just for you.” His voice was soft as he nudged his nose against yours. “If they get too rowdy-”

“Charles, I’ll be okay… now, go win for me.”

Lewis

Being a 7 time world champion definitely came with its privileges - but privacy was not one of them. So keeping his relationship close to his chest was not only important to him but to you. You loved him more than words could ever describe, but the idea of walking through all of the press holding his hand was still daunting to you - so you preferred to support him nestled away in the crowds. In your 5 years together, somehow, you’d never been “exposed”, so blending in was easy.

Lewis was by no means ashamed of you, in fact, he was filled with nothing but pride when he spoke of you - but being able to keep his personal life private, out of the grasps of the greedy, was important to him as well. He spent his days with every movement, every word being picked apart by the media and he wanted to be able to protect you from it all.

“You could at least wear my merch, babe.” He laughed softly, as you emerged from the bathroom, donned in another team’s merchandise, holding his hands out for you to take. “How am I gonna do well knowing you’re in the crowd wearing that?”

You scoffed playfully, taking his hands, looking down at him from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed. “I am wearing something for you… just for your eyes though.”

He quirked a brow, removing his hands from yours to hook his fingers into your waistband, pulling it away just enough to see his trademark colour against your skin hidden underneath. A groan left his lips and he lent his forehead against your middle.

“So…” you purred. “You gonna race well knowing what your prize is?”

“Fuck yes.”

Lando

Neon yellow was not your colour. When Lando first showed it to you, you weren’t sure it was anyone’s colour, but as you strolled through Silverstone - it seemed that it was everyone’s. You smiled softly to yourself as you adjusted your own hat, sidling up the grandstands to find your seat - nestled in between a group of Lando’s fans, who very quickly pulled you into the fray once they realised you were alone.

You’d ended up getting a seat at Luffield corner, not expecting your boyfriend’s car during the parade to pull up to be interviewed by Natalie. There was no way he’d ever know you were here - you told him you couldn’t make it, but in reality you wanted to enjoy it from the crowds.

The giggles that escaped you as his t-shirt cannon failed dramatically, made your heart swell. He’d come so far in the years you’d known him and to see him so adored was really special. You fished your phone out of your pocket when it buzzed, his name lighting up your screen, just moments before you knew he had to get into the car.

Miss u x

You smiled softly, turning as you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder. The girl smiled gently albeit a little awkwardly at you. “Hi, sorry, you’re y/n, Lando’s girlfriend, right?”

“That’s me.” You chuckled.

“How come you’re out here instead of in there?” She asked, her voice laced with curiosity, not judgement.

You turned a little in your chair to face her better. “Wanted to enjoy the race from the grandstands, I’ve always loved the atmosphere and just because I’m dating him I didn’t want to stop.”

She gave you a knowing nod. “That’s absolutely fair. Well, when you see him, can you tell him I said hi?”

“Hey, how about we all send him a good luck selfie? He’s probably not got his phone anymore but he’ll see it after the race.” You beamed.

Everyone crowded around you and you took a photo - their smiles practically lighting up the screen. You knew Lando would love it, so you sent it back.

We’re all rooting for you <3 You’ve got this!x

Lando was a little disappointed not to win the race, especially at home - he’d managed to hang on to the lead just for a little while, but it just wasn’t enough. All he wanted was to wrap himself up in your arms and feel sorry for himself for not being able to hold onto the lead, but you weren’t here. When he finally got a moment of peace, he checked his phone - eyes widening at the selfie.

You were here, nestled amongst the floods of neon - your smile somehow brighter. He tapped on your name to call you, tapping his foot against the floor - biting at the skin around his fingernails.

“Hi Lando.” Your voice sounded like a dream.

“How come you didn’t tell me you were here.” He knew he sounded whiny but he didn’t care, he needed you with him ASAP. “Could’ve watched from the garage… given me a good luck kiss.”

“Well, looks like you didn’t need it. You raced amazingly today, baby, I’m so proud of you… maybe I’ll meet you back at your hotel, show you how proud I am?”

Lando couldn’t help but jut his bottom lip out a little. “Sure I can’t tempt you to come to the garage?”

“I’m sure. Too flashy for me. I love you, see you in a little while.”

“I love you too. Bye babe.” He smiled to himself, hanging up the phone - holding it to his chest.

As much as he’d wished you were in the garage, he loved the part of you that wanted to enjoy races from the grandstands - experience the race how you wanted, not just using your relationship to waltz around the paddock.

Now… he just had to find the quickest way back to the hotel.

[sylus-doll]

Synopsis: Sylus learns to love the light.

Warnings: None, just fluff!

Author's note: Short little blurb. Brief mention of my “theory” that Sylus cannot heal in the sun (it's just one sentence tbh). Enjoy, lovelies! Comments and reblogs are appreciated. <3

It is a well-known fact that Sylus dislikes light. He is sensitive to it; the burning through his eyes. Occasionally, he might even get migraines from prolonged exposure. Don't even get started on the sun with its eternal flames that hinder his evol's ability to heal himself. He is left vulnerable, even without exposing his weaknesses. Pair that with living in the N109 Zone— the dark is his armour.

Sylus still hasn't gotten used to it, really. Every visit to Linkon City is never without a pair of sunglasses from his expansive collection. And yet he tolerates it, if only to lay his eyes on you again. Nevermind that his vision is obstructed by the black tint— he can still see you. Feel you, hear you, taste you. He will relish in the precious moments he got to spend with you when he retreats to his own territory.

Sunrise; you should be waking up soon. Sylus, a nocturnal, should be sleeping by now. But he makes no move to get up from the chair on his balcony, a glass of gin fizz in one hand and his phone in the other. Even when dawn's first light pierces just slightly through the N109's skies. The bold colour of gold and streaks of orange should be a nuisance to him. Yet all he can think about is pressing the damned “send” button he's been staring at for the last ten minutes.

Sylus:

Good morning, sweetie.

7:03 A.M.

Three dots on your end— you're typing.

You:

Morning Sy <3

7:04 A.M.

At this moment, Sylus knows that he will not be able to fall asleep. Not when you still need to tell him about your plans and the domestic mundanity of your morning routine. And he has to make commentary. So he endures. Through the glare of what little sunlight he has. Fights to grasp the remnants of consciousness with the burn of his drink. You make it hard with your honey-sweet voice. You make it hard to hate the light because it breathes life into you and brings you to him.

You are the bane of Sylus's existence; his light.

[flowerfreya]

The Office AU

This is part 3

Part 1 / Part 2

Just getting some more backstory for the reader and the boys as well. I’m trying to make it interesting but if it feels like to much filler let me know pleaseee

Poly!141 x reader

Content: reader backstory , and they have a girlfriend???!!!

He sees you before you see him and that is because you're taking a nap at your desk, your head down with sunglasses on, at least that's what he thinks. All the lights are off because they are motion sensored and when Simon comes in because of course he is the first one here the lights turn on. You shoot straight up sunglasses askew.

“Morning”

“Good morning Simon” You smile nervously. “ I got here at 6 am so I just took a quick cat nap before everyone came in and I had an alarm set for 7:30 before everyone came in but it looks like we have an early worm”. You’ve changed from the sunglasses to your regularly prescribed glasses, standing up with your makeup bag.

“Why did you get here at 6 am?”

“Oh, my boyfriend gets here at 6am and you know only one car”, you shrug like it's a normal occurrence. He just lets out a hum and just sits at his desk and you walk to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

By the time everyone comes in, you're ready for the day. You greet everyone with a smile and wave.

Simon stands up, which you don’t normally see, “Need to talk to you”, as he walk to John. Simon shuts the door after entering and you're a bit nervous that he's going to tell you about sleeping and you're trying not to stare but you can’t help it, you really need this job. Soap comes up to your desk and peaks over, “Did you get anything from TJ Maxx, Hen?”.

“You know about that?”

“Aye”

“Ha, well I never got a chance to go, but maybe this weekend”, you don’t say because when you got home you had to do all the chores that didn’t happen when you were at work and then you were so tired, you did your skincare and knocked out. He questions why you didn’t go and respond with a basic one liner, you know life. You look up at him and smile , he opens his mouth and looks like he’s about to say something and John’s door opens back up , only Simon leaving and John's voice carrying out in the office building calling your name, “Let me see you in here” . You move quickly half thinking your going to get fired and take a seat and instead of word vomiting like you did before you just sit there and wait.

John sighs and shakes his head like he can’t believe what he’s about to ask,“Love, why are here so early” .

Your so embarrassed about your car situation and how it’s already affecting your new job, “Me and boyfriend, only have one car so I have to ride with him and his shift starts at 6am so that’s why”

“One of the guys are me can pick you up on the way to work, if you want”

“Oh no , I don’t mind getting up early unless you mind me being here early…..” you trail off , hoping that this won’t be such a big deal.

“It’s fine, bird. Just don’t want you to go sleep on us waking up that early and working is hard”

“Oh no, I’m good. I just take a nap before everyone gets here, if that's okay, I don’t charge it on my time card”.

“That's not what I'm worried about”. You look away , not sure what to say and your eyes fall to his desk. He has around 20 challenge coins that look like from his time in the military. You see pictures with all the boys , some in uniform , some in just civvies, but they all look happy and so close it makes your heart hurt. You decide to change the subject.

“How long have you known the boys?”, you ask, gesturing toward the pictures.

He cocked his head to the side and smiled,”I feel like I’ve known them forever”. He sounds so fond of them and you can see the connection between them from the few days you’ve worked there. You're about to ask another follow up question but then you are interrupted by a knock and then the door opening.

“John”, a woman exclaims loudly and hops around the desk and gives him a kiss. It's a giant kiss. Somehow also…wet. Unprofessional. You know your mouth is open and you are staring but like what else are you supposed to do.

“Kelly, the door was shut, that means I was in a meeting. You know that.” ,he says in a low voice.

“Honey, I didn’t see her the-” , you cut her off ,” Oh,no I was just leaving“. You stand up and attempt to push in the chair but it doesn’t fit under the desk, so now everyone is looking at you attempt to push in a chair that you actually can’t. “Okay, I’m just going to go, do you want it open or shut?”, you ask.

They both say the opposite answers at the same time. You look between the both of them. “Uhhh”, you don’t even know who this woman is and what she is to tell and how much pull she has in the office.

“Open.”, John states matter of factly.

~

You’ve been sitting at your desk for around 20 minutes. You haven’t done that much work because the door is shut , the blinds are closed and you wonder what they are doing in there and its distracting you. You message Soap.

>>come here.

Soap looks up at you with eyebrows raised. You motion your head in a come here motion. He leans against your desk, “Aye, hen” , you try to make sure your tone doesn’t sound like a crazy lady, “who is Kelly”, and maybe you shouldn’t have ask because he stiffens up and avoids eye contact with you and hmmms.

“Oh, nevermind you don’t have to answer”, you add a chuckle to end as to not be awkward and look down at your keyboard.

Speak of the devil and she will appear , Kelly steps out of the office and see’s Soap and gives him an intimate hug, she knows his body she’s done this before. “I’m going to go to the annex and say hi to Gaz”, Kelly mentions as she moves toward the back of the office.

You see it for what it is, they share. Which is fine you do not judge on relationships but you don’t know what you thought was going happen between Soap or Johnny or even Simon like you have a boyfriend for christ sake.

Your boyfriend comes in, hes in a good mood. He wants to go out for dinner , he of course picks the place. Your just happy you don’t have to cook. Your shutting down your computer, putting on your jacket and getting you lunch box. You wish them a goodnight. John comes out of his office, “Everything, okay”, you nod your head and smile. It doesn’t matter anyway. Your happy. Your so fucking happy so it doesn’t matter anyway.

~

They “break up” with Kelly that night. They do it at a nice restaurant and do it immediately so she won’t get any other ideas. Simon doesn’t say anything, he knows Kelly only put up for him because they are a package deal. She of course ask why and John take points and lets her down gently but firmly. Then they get up and brainstorm how to get their Hen.

[callmeagardengnome]

✗ blood in the clouds ✗ | KIM HONGJOONG

pairings ✃ mafia leader! hongjoong x flight attendant! fem! reader

genre ✃ mafia au, non-idol au, SLOW BURNN

synopsis ✃

it’s finally your last day as a flight attendant. you wanted nothing more than to laze on your couch and watch netflix - just to find out that one of your passengers blew out the brains of your pilot with a gun.

in which hongjoong to hijack a plane that his rival’s daughter is on.

w.c ✃ 10.5k (yes im a yapper im sorry)

c.w ✃ dark themes, vivid descriptions of gore, guns and knives, kiss scene but no smut, use of the nickname ‘brat’, ‘pretty’ and ONE TIME - ‘princess’, your dad’s a dick oops, vulgar language, reader is smart

author’s note: this is the first oneshot of my mafia series! yes it is long but i promise you that it does eat and that you’ll enjoy it. remember to reblog and comment if you enjoyed, any and all feedback helps!

not proofread!

masterlist

white clouds drifted by the airplane window as the sky turned from a soft blue to a deep orange.

it would’ve been a pretty sight if it weren’t for the gun to your head.

you’d called in sick or put in your two weeks notice earlier if this was how your last day of being a flight attendant would end - but apparently, life hates you too much to let you catch a break.

HOUR 1 OF 7 - TAKEOFF

‘god- i can’t take this anymore,’ you thought to yourself. you hated waiting, despised it actually. 

after today, no more jet lag, rushed goodbyes or missing celebrations. you can finally unpack that suitcase for good, find someplace quiet and actually live in it. the thought alone was enough to keep you excited, but something bothered you at the back of your mind.

this trip didn’t feel right.

it wasn’t the plane itself, but your passengers? only 2 showed up in a plane that could seat at least 50 people. 

not that you were complaining. fewer passengers meant less work - which was a good thing. 

but the uneasiness you felt kept rising in your chest, no matter the times you tried to push it down. 

‘just 6 more hours,’ you thought. ‘then this will all be behind me.’

HOUR 2 OF 7 - MEALTIME

meal service started like any other: boring. 

after handing out the trays, you pushed the trolley back to its place and returned with beverages. you plastered on your most professional smile as you walked over to your passengers. “would you like a drink?”

the man in sunglasses turned to you lazily, his eyes shifting from the trolley to your face. “what do you have?”

you sighed, quietly but deeply. you had that stupid list engraved into your mind by now. “water, coffee, tea, coke, spri-” 

“-do you have alcohol?” he cut you off. 

your eye twitched. this dickhead.

first of all, he interrupted you. and secondly, you didn’t mention the alcohol on purpose. it was stored at the back of the plane and you did not have the energy to drag it out. 

“uh hongjoong- i mean, boss-“ the guy next to him whispered hurriedly. “i don’t think that’s a good idea-“

“-i think it is,” hongjoong interrupted before turning back to you. “where’s the menu?”

you gave him a forced smile as you pushed the alcohol menu towards him. he took his time with it, flipping through the pages slowly before finally saying, “two shots of whiskey.”

“sure thing,” you snatched the menu back. with a swift turn, you fetched the whiskey and the glasses, returning back to his seat.

you poured and placed the two shots on his tray table. he took the glass and drank it in one go, setting it back down with a thud. 

hongjoong then turned his head towards you, eyebrows raised. “what?”

you blinked. ‘what’? just ‘what’? where's the ‘thank you’? 

you were losing your mind.

“nothing,” you muttered through clenched teeth, moving away before he could ask for anything else.

grade A asshole.

HOUR 4.5 OF 7 - POINT OF NO RETURN

the shitty in-flight wifi was a joke as always. why did you even try?

with an annoyed sigh, you shoved your phone into your back pocket when suddenly-

static.

its piercing sound followed by faint garbled voices on the intercom startled you. you frowned as the sound continued, getting louder and more distorted.

with a groan, you stood up, straightening your uniform. ‘what are they doing?’ you thought as you walked towards the cockpit.

but when you passed by the first-class cabin, you paused. the seats were empty. both passengers were gone. ‘weird…’

things only got weirder as you approached the unlocked cockpit door. 

concerned, you pushed it open.

the smell hit you first - a metallic tang that twisted your stomach.

then your eyes caught up.

blood splattered the walls and windows in chaotic streaks, dripping down to the controls and the carpeted floor. the pilot and co-pilot laid in a gruesome pile to the side, the jagged holes in their skulls grotesque. 

a guy sat at the controls, steering the plane as though he wasn’t surrounded by horrors. 

grade A asshole- no, hongjoong, sat cross-legged on the floor, his sunglasses shattered at his feet. a gun rested in his hand and his lips curled into a smirk as he watched you enter.

“you’ve got to be kidding me..” you breathed out. 

pieces of brain and organ matter clung to the control panel as a simple blinking green light above that indicated that everything was, somehow, still functioning.

hongjoong tilted his head, amused. the gun shifted to point at what you now noticed was the crumpled bodies  of your pilots, their faces mangled in unrecognisable masses of flesh and bone.

“these your friends?”

you shook your head as you stepped back, wiping your sweaty hands on your uniform. hongjoong seemed to enjoy your reaction, his grin widening into something sickening. 

he smirked. “don’t worry, i won’t spoil that pretty face of yours.”

you coughed at the wretched smell as the crimson-stained carpet squelched beneath your heels, your mind begging you to leave.

“well-” you said, turning to the door. “i’m sure you don’t need me here, i’ll just-”

an audible click cut you off.

you froze.

slowly, you turned back to see a gun aimed directly at you.

“leaving so soon?” he raised an eyebrow. “let’s talk.”

HOUR 5 OF 7 - SKYDIVING DOESN’T SEEM TOO BAD

hongjoong dragged you to the first-class section to ‘talk’. it was the first time you’ve ever sat there and to be completely honest, this was not how you imagined yourself ‘enjoying’ it.

well, not like it mattered. you had other issues - like handcuffs locking you to the chair.

he stood infront of you, one hand gripping the gun while the other held a file. “‘____’, am i right?” he asked. 

you nodded slowly. “..that’s me.”

“3.6 GPA in university..” he muttered. “flunked out of med school during your first year..”

..how the hell did he get that information?

“you ended up as a flight attendant because your father owns the airline.”

“..yeah,” you reluctantly admitted, your stomach churning. “uh- was the med school part necessary?”

hongjoong ignored you, flipping to the next page. you watched his eyebrows shoot up as his eyes narrowed. “how close are you with your father?”

you blinked, confused by the weird question. “i mean- he’s my dad,” you replied. “but i haven’t seen him in years.”

“hm,” the sound came from him. hongjoong studied you for a moment longer before he spoke again, but this time, his voice was cold.

“do you know what he’s been doing during those years?”

your brows furrowed. “no, i-”

“killing. my. men.”

you didn’t even have time to process his words because he leaned forward when he said them, the gun uncomfortably close to your face. 

you swallowed the lump in your throat. “...are you sure you have the right person?”

his smirk widened into something eerie. “i have a gun pointed to you, don’t i?”

your pulse quickened. you couldn’t decide which was worse: the possibility that he was telling the truth or the fact that he was clearly enjoying your reaction.

“i always wanted to get back at that pig..” he held the gun up to the bottom of your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. “and look at how kind the world is- blessing me with his daughter.”

you struggled to breathe, to think. the handcuffs dug into your wrist as you unconsciously tried to break out of them, a clink against the metal arm of the chair.

your voice trembled. “..what do you want from me?”

hongjoong didn’t answer immediately. instead, he leaned in even closer, so close that you could feel your foreheads touching.

“what i want,” he said slowly, eyes locked onto yours. “is for your dad to suffer.”

HOUR 6 OF 7 - SURPRISINGLY ALIVE

the stuffiness of the plane did little to calm your nerves. you sat quietly in the seat, staring at the shattered remains of your phone on the floor.

hongjoong snatched it from your hands a few minutes ago, grumbling about how ‘you don’t need devices’. great. just great. 

the sound of the cockpit door creaking open drew your attention. the other guy - or ‘pilot’, stepped out, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. “boss.”

hongjoong raised an eyebrow. “what?”

the ‘pilot’ moved closer to hongjoong, lowering his voice. “air traffic control was notified of our path,” he said quietly. “they know something’s off about the plane, but i have no idea how.”

hongjoong’s eyes darkened as he processed the information. then, he glared at you, like he was accusing you.

you scoffed. “you shot my phone, how would i even contact anyone?”

for a moment, the two of you locked eyes and you swear that you could see him debating whether to believe you.

the ‘pilot’ cleared his throat. “what should we expect?” he asked nervously.

hongjoong leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his hair. “the police.”

HOUR 7 OF 7 - SHIT IS GETTING REAL

“what the hell…” you whispered to yourself as you peered out of the window.

SWAT teams and federal agents stood in rows, their weapons pointed directly at the plane. flashing lights of red and blue lit up the empty airport. 

you turned away from the window, watching hongjoong pull out a burner phone from his jacket. his fingers typed something out before he suddenly snapped the phone in half, tossing the remains on the floor. 

“…who are you?” you asked quietly.

he raised an eyebrow. “you don’t need to know, pretty.”

your survival instincts told you to move, to do something. but the second you tried to stand, hongjoong shoved you back down. 

“stay seated until we land,” he said before tilting his head. “isn’t that your job?”

you rolled your eyes, gripping the armrests as you tried to calm yourself down and steady your breathing. 

but that was when you heard it - gunshots. 

“they’re shooting us?” you panicked, flinching with each sound. 

no answer.

“hey-“ you tried again, but was cut off by the tires hitting the terrain. 

the landing was rough - harsher than anything you’ve experienced as a flight attendant. the plane rattled like never before.

your chest tightened when it rolled over something particularly large. “what was that?” your voice cracked. 

no answer. 

when the plane finally came to a halt, you barely had time to catch your breath when hongjoong moved. in a blink, he uncuffed you from the chair, only to secure the handcuffs on your wrists once more. 

he brought you to your feet, pulling you so close that you could feel his breath against your ear. “don’t do anything stupid,” he hissed. 

the cockpit door opened and the ‘pilot’ appeared. he quickly unlocked the emergency exit and you saw the makeshift ramp that had been attached to the side of the plane. 

a van rested just outside of it, hongjoong dragging you towards the vehicle. you descended the ramp, the cool air hitting your face as you looked around. 

but that was when you saw it. 

blood. 

on the wheels of the plane, the dark colour leaving a fresh trail on the ground.  

“did you..” you gulped, your voice barely above a whisper. “did you run over them?”

hongjoong glanced at you. “i didn’t,” he shrugged. “the plane did.”

you stopped in your tracks, your feet stuck rooted to the ground as you stared at him in horror. how could he say that like it was no big deal? just who was this man?

“move,” hongjoong ordered. but when you didn’t, he clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes. “god- you’re such a brat.”

before you knew it, you were shoved into the back of the van. the ‘pilot’ closed the door with a loud slam and sat in the driver’s seat while hongjoong took the passenger’s seat up front. 

you met hongjoong’s eyes through the rearview mirror. his glare was sharp, acting as a warning to keep your mouth shut. you didn’t need to be told twice.

the van drove forward and you caught glimpses of city lights in the distance, slowly growing closer. civilisation - maybe you could get help. 

but against your mind’s wishes, you felt your eyelids getting heavy - and you did something that no one should ever do when they’re in a car with armed strangers.

you fell asleep.

HOUR 14 OF 7 - HIP HIP HOORAY YOU’RE NOT DEAD

you heard a voice whine. “why can’t we kill her?” 

“do you want boss to kill us?” you heard another reply.

your eyes fluttered open. your head felt heavy as the room came into focus, your stomach twisting. 

the space was dingy, poorly lit by a bulb hanging from the ceiling and an unnecessarily tall lamp on the ground. the walls were stained and the air stunk of blood.

you tried to move, only to feel tight ropes against your wrists and ankles. you were tied to a chair.

“i can’t believe we have to babysit the pig’s daughter,” a man with a knife groaned.

“calm down, wooyoung,” the other one sighed.

“calm down?!” wooyoung exclaimed. “yeosang got to fly a plane! how is that fair?”

“he has a license,” the second man rolled his eyes. 

“it’s still a plane, jongho-”

“shut up,” jongho interrupted. “the girl’s awake.”

both men turned their heads to look at you, the sudden attention sending a shiver down your spine. wooyoung’s grin stretched across his face as he got to his feet, jongho following behind.

“aw look who’s finally awake,” wooyoung approached, his voice childish. “you slept like a baby- and we didn’t even drug you!”

your heartbeat quickened as he leaned in close, his grin widening as he studied your face.

“i read your file,” he began. “you’re smart…” wooyoung paused, his eyes inspecting you and your ridiculous uniform. “and hot.”

your throat tightened, but you forced yourself to respond. “thank you-?”

“-what’s your favourite feature about yourself?” he asked, twirling the knife in his hands.

“uh-” your mind scrambled for an answer as he got nearer, the knife glinting. “i- my eyes?”

“your eyes,” wooyoung repeated, the grin stuck to his face. “good choice.”

he brought the knife closer, the cold steel trailing down the side of your face. you flinched as the blade hovered near your eye, your breath hitching.

“you’re going to answer all our questions,” he stated, almost in a sing-songy way. “and if you dont-”

he tilted the knife, now directly above your eyeball. “-i’ll dig those lovely pearls out of your sockets.”

your chest tightened, terror paralyzing you from head to toe. you couldn’t even breathe, every cell in your body pleading you to stay still.

“hey-” jongho tapped wooyoung on the shoulder, whispering. “uh.. boss said we can’t scratch her..”

“are you serious?” wooyoung scoffed. “then what’s the point?”

jongho bit the inside of his cheek, avoiding eye contact with his friend.

wooyoung groaned, throwing the knife to the ground with a strength that made it bend. “fuck this- torture isn’t even fun anymore.”

he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

silence was in the air until jongho cleared his throat awkwardly. he turned to face you. “uh..” he hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“change of plans.”

HOUR 15 OF 7 - DAY DRINKING IS FUN

you never imagined yourself in a hideout, drinking vodka with one of your captors - yet here you were. 

the whole thing felt absurd: a shaky barstool beneath you and a scuffed counter separating you and jongho. he poured you a shot he claimed was ‘very expensive’, before proceeding to chug most of the vodka from the bottle in a long gulp. 

your legs were untied now, though your wrists were still bound, the rope loose enough for your hands to rest infront of you. “what are we waiting for?” you asked. “hongjoong?”

jongho froze, his eyes snapping to yours. “don’t say his name,” he whisper-shouted.

you raised your tied wrists in apology. “okay.. what should i call him?”

“call him boss.. or mr kim.. or anything that isn’t his first name,” jongho said, his words rushed. 

you nodded slowly, looking at the man infront of you with mild concern. he looked even more scared than you did. 

then suddenly, the door slammed open. 

both you and jongho flinched, watching two figures stumble in. 

the first was a tall man - storming into the room. the second was him, hongjoong, clutching his side in pain.

“mingi- boss!” jongho panicked instantly as he ran to help the injured man. “holy- you’re hurt!”

“the pig called for backup,” mingi sighed heavily. 

you blinked, stunned as the sound of hongjoong coughing violently brought your attention back to the injured man. 

blood seeped through his fingers, staining his sleeves and skin. you don’t know what took over you, but you pushed yourself off of the barstool and rushed towards him. 

“what do you think you’re doing?” mingi stepped infront of hongjooong, his hand resting on his gun protectively. 

you glared at him. “do you want your boss to bleed out?”

mingi studied you. after what felt like ages, he exhaled sharply and stepped aside. “fine,” he muttered, keeping a hand on his weapon. 

you knelt next to hongjoong, trying to make him face you as you grabbed his arm. though, he snatched himself away from you quickly. 

you rolled your eyes. “i’m trying to help you. let me see it.”

hongjoong’s eyes pierced your soul. you could see the cogs in his head turning on whether he could trust you. 

a few moments passed before he finally faced you with a sigh, revealing a large gash on the side of his stomach - a wound created by knife. 

“i need water.” 

jongho blinked, clearly thrown off. “what?”

“to clean his wound..?” you explained. “get me water. now.”

jongho hesitated before snatching a bottle of water from a mini fridge. he pushed it to you, the little amount of liquid sloshing inside. “you should stay still for this,” you said before slowly pouring the water over the wound. 

crap- a gash this big needed a stitch. 

“untie me,” you said, holding your wrists up to your captors. 

jongho glanced at his boss worriedly for permission. hongjoong gave a small nod and jongho quickly pulled out a small knife to cut the rope. 

once free, you quickly looked around for something to stitch his wound with. when nothing looked remotely useful, your eyes dropped to your uniform - a skirt with a yarn trim. it wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do.

you began to unravel the yarn from the hem.

“what are you doing?” mingi asked, frowning.

“stitching him,” you sighed as your fingers worked hurriedly. “or do you want him to get an infection?”

hongjoong let out a groan, shifting uncomfortably. “just hurry.”

you finished unravelling it, but now you needed a needle. your hand instinctively reached up to your hair - pulling out a small bobby pin. it was definitely not as sharp as a needle, but you’re sure that hongjoong can handle his pain.

“shit- i need to sterilise this,” you muttered, mostly to yourself.

“vodka,” jongho said instantly, grabbing the bottle and handing it to you.

you poured the small amount over the pin, letting it drip onto the floor. then, threading the yarn through the makeshift needle, you glanced at hongjoong.

“this will hurt,” you warned.

he looked at you with clenched teeth. “i don’t care.”

you placed a hand on his side to steady him, feeling the tension in his muscles as he tried to not flinch. carefully, you began to stitch the gash, each pull making him wince. 

when the stitching was complete, you tied the yarn and tore it off with your teeth - but the wound was still bleeding slightly.

you glanced down at your sleeves. without hesitation, you tore a strip of fabric free. you used it to dab away the excess blood, then folded the remaining fabric to wrap it around his side. 

“that should work. for now,” you sat back as you wiped your forehead with your arm.

“...you know how to treat people?” hongjoong asked, wincing slightly. 

you nodded slowly. “yeah.. i know the basics.”

“hm,” he tilted his head. “you’re more useful than i thought.”

you blinked. was a good thing or a bad thing?

“wooyoung,” he yelled out. 

a loud crash was heard in another room, followed by the muffled sounds of frantic movements. within seconds, wooyoung appeared in the doorway. 

“yes, boss?” wooyoung said out of breath, brushing off his shirt as he lookedaround the room. 

hongjoong didn’t respond immediately. instead, he looked you up and down, his lips twitching into what seemed like a smirk. “get her some actual clothes. we have an event to catch.”

HOUR 17 OF 7 - WORDS TALK BUT GUNS TALK LOUDER

“woah..” your eyes took in the building before you. glittering lights and an impressive exterior that was way more extravagant than anything you imagined hongjoong to be involved in.

he parked the car, the engine coming to a stop. before you could say anything, hongjoong stepped out of the car, closing the door shut. you scrambled to follow him, your heels clicking against the pavement as you caught up.

the two of you approached the man stationed at the door - a bouncer with a pen and clipboard.

without warning, hongjoong’s hand snaked around your waist, pulling you snugly against his side. you flinched at the sudden contact, but with how tight his grip was, there was no room for protests.

“ah, mr kim,” the bouncer greeted. “you made it.”

hongjoong offered a brief, fake smile before dropping it immediately. “let us in.”

“hold on now,” the bouncer said, flipping through the papers on the clipboard. “we can’t let her inside.”

hongjoong’s brows furrowed. “why?”

“new policy,” the man sighed, pretending to sound disappointed. “no more plus-ones.”

hongjoong rolled his eyes, not bothering to respond. instead, he reached into his blazer, about to pull out a-

“nevermind!” the bouncer’s face turned pale. he stepped aside with a nervous laugh. “you’re all set- enjoy the night.”

the interior was breathtaking - chandeliers hung from high ceilings and round tables were scattered across the venue, draped in pristine white table cloths. 

“don’t eat or drink anything here.”

you blinked, nodding slowly at hongjoong’s words. “okay.. but why-”

“-and if you really want to stay alive,” he interrupted, his lips brushing your ear. “don't leave my sight.”

his voice sent a chill down your spine. “okay,” you mumbled as he brought you further into the room.

he led you to a seating area - though it looked more like a conversation pit, where an old man sat waiting. 

hongjoong released his grip on you to sit across the man, gesturing for you to follow. you hesitated briefly before settling next to him.

“mr kim,” the old man greeted gruffly. his eyes shifted to you, studying your face. “i see you brought someone.”

hongjoong gave a nod, glancing at you. “introduce yourself, brat.”

“oh uh-” you put out your hand reluctantly, forcing a polite smile. “i’m ‘____’.”

the old man’s eyes narrowed before they widened in realisation. “her father-“

“-i’m glad you noticed,” hongjoong cut in. he slowly reached into his blazer again, but this time, he actually pulled out his pistol. 

your eyes widened as he aimed it to your waist, the cold metal brushing your side. “wha-“

“w-what are you doing?” the old man’s face drained of colour, panic flashing in his eyes. 

hongjoong tilted his head. “let’s negotiate.”

“mr kim-“ the old man began, his voice cracking. “as his friend, you do understand that i have to tell him she’s here.”

“do it,” hongjoong shrugged, leaning back. his arm returned to your waist, pulling you to him as he tapped the gun against your side. 

“let’s see if he values his money more than his own daughter.”

HOUR 18 OF 7 - LIFE ISN’T FAIR

a loud crash echoed through the venue, making you jump. the sound of heavy footsteps grew violent with every second.

hongjoong’s hand tightened around your waist as he stood, dragging you up with him. “move.”

“wait-!” the old man called after you, but hongjoong didn’t stop.

his grip on you was firm, the barrel of his gun pressing against your stomach. you tripped over your feet, struggling to keep up his pace.

“where are you taking me?” you panicked as you glanced over your shoulder at the armed men closing in.

“to your father, princess,” he sneered, his voice mockingly sweet. 

“mr kim! stop right there!” 

you froze, whipping your head around. standing at the far end of the room, infront of a small army of armed men, was your father. 

“let go of my daughter,” your father ordered. he pointed a gun directly at hongjoong, his men following suit. 

your eyes glanced around the room - seeing guests cowering against the walls, some injured and others dead.

“i’m not giving up the brat until i get what i want,” hongjoong demanded.

“what you want is an impossible amount of money!” your father yelled, his grip on his gun tightening.

“impossible?” hongjoong’s eyes widened with craze. “you have more than $500 million tied to your name! did you think i’ll forget who you killed to get here?”

your blood ran cold. “dad.. you killed people?” you asked, your voice trembling as you looked at him.

for a split second, your father’s eyes softened, though that quickly disappeared with a scoff.

“if i didn’t, you wouldn’t have a roof over your head,” your father spat. “you were too stubborn to do anything after you dropped med school.”

the world seemed to tilt, your father’s words more piercing than any bullet. “but i didn’t-”

“-you did,” your father interrupted you. “i spent all that money bribing them just for you to fuck up.”

your heart sank as tears welled in your eyes. hongjoong noticed your reaction, his grip on the gun loosening slightly. 

“i’d appreciate it if you didn’t make my hostage cry,” he said. “do you really want those to be your last words to her?”

“shut up,” your father snarled, his finger close to the trigger. “i’ll say what i want. she’s too stupid to argue back anyway.”

the tears you held back spilled over and all you could hear was your dad shouting, “get her!”

HOUR 18.5 OF 7 - THEY WANT YOU SOO BAD

gunshots were heard in every direction, completely deafening. 

the pungent smell of gunpowder burned your nose as you stumbled, your legs barely holding you up. hongjoong shoved you to the ground, his hand against your back. 

“stay down,” he ordered you, raising his gun and firing without hesitation.

you flinched with every shot, watching in horror as armed men fell one by one with his aim. the world felt like it was spinning too fast and you could barely keep up.

suddenly, a hand grabbed your arm.

“stop moving!” your father yelled, his grip painful as he dragged you towards the exit.

“no!” you choked out, your heels digging into the floor in an attempt to resist. panic ran through your veins as your eyes darted around desperately.

your eyes landed on a fallen gun near your feet. you quickly snatched it, hands trembling as you tried to point it towards him.

“don’t make me do this!” you cried.

your father didn’t stop and without thinking-

-you pulled the trigger.

a bang was heard, followed by his rough scream as he collapsed to the floor, clutching his bleeding thigh.

“oh my god,” you whispered, the gun slipping from your hands as tears flowed uncontrollably down your cheeks. you sank to the floor, staring at the blood pouring out of him.

“you bitch!” he shouted in pain.

out of the corner of your eye, you caught hongjoong watching you, something strange flashing across his face. was that.. surprise? pride? maybe he was impressed?

hongjoong fired a shot at an armed man without looking, moving to you quickly. 

“didn’t think you had it in you, pretty,” he looked over his shoulder. “but we need to leave.”

he led you to a small janitor’s closet near the exit. the narrow space smelled of bleach, but at least it was quiet.

hongjoong shut the door behind you and dusted off his blazer. without a word, his dark eyes inspected you, checking your shoulders and arms.

you stood motionless, too shocked to stop him as he gently tilted your chin up, his thumb wiping away the mascara-stained tears from your cheeks.

“nothing broken,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “no scars either..”

he pulled out a burner phone, typing something quickly.

“i- i just shot my dad,” your shoulders shook as new tears welled up in your eyes.

hongjoong glanced up from the phone, meeting your eyes. “..are you bragging?” he asked bluntly.

“what? he’s my dad-”

“-and he’s a dick,” hongjoong cut you off. “you might share blood, but that man clearly hates you.”

you hiccuped, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. “...am i going to hell?”

hongjoong scoffed. “come on-“ he began, but stopped himself when he looked at you and the tears spilling from your eyes. “you didn’t kill him… you’re fine.” 

you opened your mouth to protest but he silenced you as he continued typing. “and even if you did,” he added. “you’re doing the world a favour.”

he smashed the burner phone onto the ground, discarding the pieces. he reloaded his pistol before turning back to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as he led you through bodies and debris.

outside, a black van waited by the curb. hongjoong pushed you inside before climbing in after you, slamming the door shut behind him.

“drive,” he ordered.

as the street lights went past you, you slumped in your seat, completely exhausted. “where are we going?” you asked softly.

hongjoong studied you for a moment, watching your eyelids go heavy. “...go to sleep, brat.”

DAY 2 - OH HONEY I'M HOME

you woke up with a jolt. you sat up from the couch you laid down on, completely disoriented. your eyes darted around the dimly lit room. the hideout. 

relief and fear spread within you. you were safe - for now.

just then, a knock from the doorway made you jump. “didn’t mean to scare you,” a man said, leaning against the frame. “boss wanted me to check on you.”

you blinked. “i- okay,” you coughed to clear your throat, wincing at how dry it felt.

“i’ll let him know you’re awake.”

and with that, he disappeared down the hall, leaving you alone once more.

though that didn’t last long. moments later, hongjoong entered. he carried a stool over, setting it down across from you before sitting. 

“how long did i sleep?” you asked hoarsely.

“a day,” he replied with a shrug.

your eyes widened. it was only then you noticed your attire - a baggy t-shirt replacing the outfit you were wearing before.

“who changed me?” you blurted out, heat rising to your cheeks.

“i did,” hongjoong answered. he noticed your flustered expression, tilting his head. “what?”

“did you-” you cleared your throat. “did you see anything?”

“i’m not a pervert,” he scoffed. “if it makes you feel better, you were changed in the dark.”

you fell into an awkward, heavy silence as you sat across each other. for the first time, there was no danger, no gunfire or anyone yelling out orders. just silence.

“your dad..” hongjoong began, speaking up. “wants you dead.”

“...what?”

he held up a cassette tape, tossing it onto the table between you, your hands trembling as you picked it up. hongjoong then brought out a cassette tape player, allowing you to hear your father’s voice.

‘mr kim, we’ve had our ups and downs, but i’m sure that we can agree on one thing - that bitch who shot my thigh is a liability. an idiot that made it this far because of me. she’s no longer my responsibility or family, so expect to find her head on a stick when you turn your back. have fun.’

“what the fuck..” you whispered shakily as it came to an end. 

“to be honest, your only purpose was to be a hostage.” hongjoong’s fingers drummed the edge of the stool. “and now that he doesn’t want you.. you’re useless-”

the world around you crumbled, his words making you feel worse. 

“-to him.”

your eyes widened, looking at him in confusion.

“you’re smart,” he shrugged. “and you stitched me.”

you blinked. “…where are you going with this?” 

“i want you to be an addition to my team,” he replied.

“do i have to kill people?” you blurted out. “or steal, or-”

“no,” hongjoong raised a hand to cut you off. “all you’ll be doing is treating my injured men. quite the opposite of killing.”

you frowned, furrowing your eyebrows. “why would you trust me with that?”

“because,” he said, leaning forward. “you have nowhere else to go.”

“that’s not true-”

“really?” hongjoong smirked. “do you know how many businesses your dad owns?”

you shook your head.

“more than 80% in the country,” his eyes sparkled with something dark. “now that you’ve shot him, you’ve burnt every bridge he’s built for you.”

your jaw dropped. “but-”

“no job, no family, nowhere to live either since he owns most of the real estate here.”

you stared at him, struggling to process his words.

“here’s my offer,” hongjoong continued. “you get a decent amount of money, a place to live and protection...”

“...just to treat people?” you asked in disbelief.

he nodded. 

you bit your lip, staring at the floor as you picked at your nails. how could your dad do this to you? abandoning you just like that? and now he wanted you dead? you could feel yourself getting angry just thinking about him.

after a long moment, you lifted your head, meeting his gaze. “deal.” 

MONTH 1 - FAMILY BONDING 

that evening, you sat on the floor with san, wooyoung and yeosang, eating a batch of cheap instant noodles. it was a little awkward - mostly because you just joined, but you were silently appreciating their efforts to make small talk with you. 

suddenly, a loud bang was heard through the hideout. the three men jumped up immediately, pulling guns and knives from who knows where. 

“back entrance?” wooyoung asked as he sharpened his knives. 

your heart raced as you watched the three of them shift into combat mode - and you caught yourself lagging behind. you hurriedly stood up and grabbed the medical kit you kept close. 

“stay here,” san said firmly. 

you shook your head. “if someone’s injured, i’m coming.”

the three of them shared a look before yeosang gave you a reluctant nod. “…just stay behind us. we’ll get in trouble if you get hurt.”

they moved swiftly and silently through the narrow halls of the hideout, weapons in hand. you trailed closely, your heart pounding as you gripped the medical kit tightly. 

when you reached the back entrance, san motioned you to stay back while they checked the door. 

the signs of forced entry were obvious - the lock was broken and scuff marks lined the floor. 

wooyoung scoffed, speaking under his breath. “stupid piglets.”

yeosang sighed. “looks like they took a few weapons and left.”

“are they testing us?” san asked, inspecting a footprint on the ground. 

before anyone could respond, the door slammed open making all of you jump. you turned to see mingi, his chest heaving as he leaned against the door frame. 

“meeting. now.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the hideout’s ‘meeting room’ was more of a cramped closet with mismatched chairs and a comically large table in the middle. hongjoong paced at the end of the room, his jaw clenched. 

“we can’t stay here any longer,” he began. “it’s only a matter of time before they come back in full force.”

hongjoong stopped pacing and crossed his arms. “we need to move back to our old apartments. they’re scattered enough to keep us hidden until we figure out our next move.”

you shifted uncomfortably. 

hongjoong noticed this. “what?” he asked, his sharp eyes landing on you. 

“i uh-“ you hesitated. “i don’t have a home..” you said sheepishly. 

hongjoong raised an eyebrow. 

“my dad owns the house,” you admitted. “and that’s not really an option anymore.”

“right,” hongjoong sighed, running a hand through his hair. “shit..”

“alright, who has space?” he clapped, glancing around the room. 

everyone exchanged uneasy looks. 

“we don’t,” yeosang said, gesturing to himself, san, wooyoung and jongho. “the four of us are already crammed into one place.”

“same here,” yunho spoke up. “mingi and i barely fit in ours.”

hongjoong turned to seonghwa, his face hopeful. 

“no,” seonghwa said without hesitation. 

a heavy sigh escaped hongjoong as he pinched the bridge of his nose. he leaned against the table, deep in thought. 

minutes stretched into what felt like hours before hongjoong finally spoke up. “you’re coming with me,” he said, looking directly at you. 

your eyes widened in surprise. “..what?”

“you’re staying at my place.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the car sped down the (somewhat) empty highway, the faint smell of vanilla from the air freshener mixing with the lingering scent of old fast food. 

you gripped the edge of your seat as the streetlights ran by the window in a blur. “are we in a rush?” you nervously glanced at hongjoong. 

“no,” he replied flatly. 

there was a black car beside you that had been keeping pace for the past few minutes - and just as you shifted in your seat, it suddenly swerved infront of your car and slammed the brakes. 

“what the-” you barely managed to say before the impact. the car jolted violently as it hit the one ahead, the sound of metal crunching loud. 

hongjoong let out a low string of curses under his breath. his face was weirdly calm as he unbuckled his seatbelt, stepping out of the car without a word. 

“wait-” you scrambled to undo your own seatbelt. 

from your seat, you saw him approaching the car. the moment he glanced inside, his eyes widened. he reached for his gun and pulled the trigger instantly. 

the loud gunshot made you flinch and your stomach twisted as you saw the slumped figure in the driver’s seat, blood splattered across the windshield. 

your heart pounded as you stumbled out of the car, rushing towards him. “why did you do that?!”

hongjoong turned to you, his jaw clenched. “it was a piglet.”

“wha-“ your eyes drifted to the body, a shiver going down your spine as you saw the bullet hole clean through the skull. 

hongjoong, completely unfazed, went back to the car. you stared at the lifeless body for a moment longer before hurriedly following him. 

once you were back inside, you swallowed the lump in your throat, attempting to break the suffocating silence. “….how did you know he was a piglet?”

hongjoong didn’t respond immediately. his fingers flexed against the steering wheel as he glanced at you. 

“they have a bullet tattoo..” he said finally, pulling down his collar to point to his collarbone. “..right here.”

you blinked. “oh.”

“if you ever come across one,” he continued. “kill them on sight.”

your eyes widened, your throat tightening. “what about the police?”

he fell silent for a second, his eyes fixed on the road. then, a faint smirk crossed his face. “you don’t need to worry about them.”

his answer left you unsettled, but before you could question him further, the apartment building came into view. it was modern - standing tall with the city skyline. 

hongjoong smoothly pulled into the parking lot. the abruptness of the stop sent you forward, but his hand shot out instinctively, pressing against you to keep you steady. 

“sorry,” he muttered, his voice soft - though he didn’t look at you as he retracted his arm. 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

some might describe hongjoong’s apartment as ‘minimalistic’, but to you, it’s just an excuse for a grown man to avoid decorating. 

the walls were devoid of any art or family photos, the kitchen was spotless - though it was definitely untouched with how there was almost no food in the fridge. and from what you saw, the only source of entertainment was a lone TV. 

“do you..” you began, looking around the bare space. “do you even live here?”

hongjoong ignored your comment and walked towards the big couch and began to pull it into a makeshift bed. the springs creaked slightly as he unfolded it. “this is where you’ll be sleeping,” he said, dusting himself off. 

“cool.”

“don’t complain-“ he stopped himself mid-sentence and narrowed his eyes when he realised what you said. “wait, you’re okay with this?”

you blinked. “…yeah?”

“hm,” he said, slightly surprised. he looked you up and down before turning to the long hallway. “get some rest, we’re getting you a phone tomorrow.”

MONTH 2 - LIVE LAUGH LOVE GUNS

you should’ve known it wouldn’t be long before the piglets attacked you again. 

hongjoong sent you on a simple supply run - nothing unusual. but as you stood in the small pharmacy, you felt the air shift when the cashier’s demeanour turned cold. 

it all happened so fast. 

the moment you saw the gun aimed at your chest, your eyes fell to the faint outline of a bullet tattoo peeking out from his collarbone. great. 

your breath hitched as your body moved on impulse. you barely avoided the first shot as you ducked behind the display rack. 

the pharmacy was strangely empty, no one else to intervene. your heart pounded as the sounds of footsteps and gunshots echoed. 

fumbling with your phone, you dialed every number you could think of. yet, no one answered. 

your hands trembled as you typed hongjoong’s number, your last resort. 

he picked up after one ring. 

“this better be important, brat,” he grumbled, groggy like he just woke up. 

“i need help-” you semi-yelled as you narrowly dodged another shot, darting behind the counter. “i’m getting attacked-”

“-send your location,” hongjoong interrupted. “i’m on my way.”

the line went dead before you could respond. 

you sent your location and shoved the phone back into your pocket. the cashier reloaded the gun, his footsteps growing louder. and just as you moved, he charged. 

he grabbed you, trying to pin you down. you barely managed to fight back, until you made an educated attack - kicking him in the groin. 

he groaned, stumbling back. you took the opportunity to snatch the gun from his hands. 

you pointed it at him, your hands shaking. “stay back,” your voice cracked. 

the man scoffed. “over my dead body,” he lunged at you again. 

your finger moved instinctively, pulling the trigger. 

once. 

twice. 

again and again and again. 

the sound of gunfire rang in your ears, the recoil sending waves through your arms. you didn’t stop until you heard a clicking noise that meant that the gun was empty. 

when you opened your eyes, he was no longer standing. 

you looked down, the cashier laying sprawled on the ground, the concrete dark with blood. bullet holes littered his body, evidence of your frantic shots. 

you dropped to your knees, your chest heaving. you reached out to check his pulse. nothing.

you just took someone’s life. 

your eyes fell to your hands, bloody and shaking. from young, you always wanted to save lives - not take them. tears fell from your eyes, blurring your vision. 

the door slammed open. 

hongjoong stood in the doorway. he took in the body on the floor and your frozen form in a single glance. he sighed, stepping in. 

“come on, let’s go,” he crouched to grab your arm. 

you couldn’t move, your eyes fixed on the lifeless body. 

“hey,” his fingers gripped your jaw, tilting your face to meet his. his eyes were intense, his touch warm against your cold skin. “we need to leave before more show up. you don’t want to kill anyone else, do you?”

you shook your head quickly. 

he pulled you to your feet, wrapping his arm around yours as he guided you to his car. the ride back was silent as you stared out of the window. 

and before you knew it, you were back at his apartment. 

you hesitated at the door, unable to bring yourself to step inside. 

hongjoong sighed, grabbing your wrist as he tugged you in. he tossed his gun and his keys in the kitchen counter before turning to you. 

“go take a long shower. i’ll be in the living room.”

you nodded, moving to the bathroom in a daze. 

the water was scalding as it hit your skin. no amount of soap or scrubbing would ever make you feel clean from the bloodied-stains. every part of your body felt foreign - even your puffy eyes and lips.

once you were done, you dressed in the softest clothes you had, hoping that it would provide you with some form of comfort (it didn’t).

the pull-out couch was prepared with brand-new pillows and fluffy blankets when you returned to the living room. hongjoong sat on the edge, gesturing for you to sit. you sank down beside him. 

the silence stretched on until it became unbearable. 

you spoke up, your voice barely audible. “…i killed someone.”

“you did,” he nodded. “good job.”

your head snapped up, your eyes wide. “i killed someone.”

“and so have i,” hongjoong leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “does that bother you?”

“i…”

he leaned back. “it should. the first time always does.”

“i don’t think i can do this,” you breathed out shakily. “i don’t want to hurt people..”

the two of you locked eyes for what felt like ages. you could see hongjoong’s adam's apple bob up and down, his jaw tightening slightly. “no one wants to hurt people,” he replied softly. 

you blinked. 

“i shouldn’t have sent you out alone, especially with your dad targeting you,” he sighed. “that’s on me.”

“but-”

“-though i do have to say, this made me realise how.. unprepared you are,” he continued.

your eyebrows furrowed. 

“if you want to survive, you need to know how to defend yourself,” he drummed his fingers against the couch. “...you’re off supply runs. from now on, you’re training with the others.”

you stared at him. “what?”

“the rest have some ‘schedule’ for training. i’m sure you can join without any problems.”

you hesitated. the thought of the blood, the body, the gun in your hands made you nauseous. the idea of training scared you. 

he noticed this, his eyes softening slightly. “you won’t be a killer, just someone capable of self-defense.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat. finally, you nodded, your voice small. “okay.”

MONTH 3 - LET’S GO GAMBLING!

the casino was glitzy and loud with copyright-free music, its neon lights casting eerie shadows on the dark streets outside. 

“you three, cover left. you two, check the vault. the rest of you will stay near the exit,” hongjoong ordered.

you waited for your assignment, expecting to be grouped with someone. instead, hongjoong said, “you’re with me.”

you sighed. “alright.”

you followed hongjoong to the right side of the casino, the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses filling the space. he moved silently, keeping his gun concealed but ready. you tried to mimic his focus, clutching the knife wooyoung lent you earlier.

the first sign of trouble came when the alarms blared.

armed men swarmed into the casino. piglets.

hongjoong moved first, taking them down in a single shot. you ducked behind a pillar, your heart pounding.

the fight moved fast. hongjoong was precise - he wasn’t even touchable, killing the men easily.

but that was when you saw it before he did: a piglet creeping up behind him, raising and aiming the gun to his head.

“boss!”

without hesitation, you hurled wooyoung’s knife to the piglet.

the knife pierced and plunged into his neck, causing the man to fall, his gun clattering to the ground. 

hongjoong whipped his head around with wide eyes, shooting the man infront of him before spinning to kill the piglet you just hit.

the silence that followed was deafening.

hongjoong’s breathing was heavy as he lowered his weapon. he dusted his clothes off, looking at you with an unreadable expression.

he gulped, finally speaking up. “...good job, pretty.” 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

slowly, everyone regrouped in the corner, collapsing onto the floor in a circle. bottles of water were passed around as everyone caught their breaths.

for a while, no one spoke, the only sounds being an occasional groan.

“hey,” wooyoung hiccuped, breaking the silence as he turned to you. “give me my knife back.”

you looked at him awkwardly before handing him his completely bloody and dented knife - basically ruined.

“what the hell!” he exclaimed. “that was one of my favourites!”

you shrugged. “you shouldn’t have given it to me then.”

“i didn’t know you were actually gonna use it,” wooyoung complained. “i thought you would just watch.”

“you’re such a dick,” you rolled your eyes.

wooyoung leaned in closer - his voice annoyingly sweet. “aw, don’t be mad, sweetheart. i’ll get you a better knife- one that won’t bend in your delicate fucking hands.”

“shut up,” you groaned, shoving him lightly as the others chuckled.

hongjoong leaned against the wall, his arm crossed over his chest. his eyes shifted from wooyoung to you. 

his chest tightened in a now-familiar way: you’re fitting in too well.

it wasn’t jealousy - at least, that’s what he told himself. it was about control. your presence was a distraction he didn’t account for. but the others took you in so easily, which was technically a good thing, right?

and yet...

why did his stomach twist every time one of them smiled at you?

hongjoong blinked, realising how his leg was bouncing restlessly. he forced himself to stop, sighing deeply.

“you good, boss?” yunho asked.

hongjoong paused. “...i’m fine.”

yunho raised an eyebrow but didn’t question it, turning away.

hongjoong’s eyes returned to you. you were leaning a little too close to yeosang now, laughing at some joke wooyoung said - sending a strange pang through his chest.

why did this bother him so much?

you weren’t doing anything wrong. you were building trust, meshing with the group - just like he expected.

but this wasn’t about the group, was it?

he frowned, thinking. you stitched him right after he kidnapped you, you saved him from getting shot even though you were definitely not ready to fight.

what has he ever done for you?

introduced you to a world of crime? to a world of killing, stealing and hatred? accidentally ruined the relationship between you and your dad?

hongjoong closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

shit.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

without bothering to change, you sank into the pull-out couch - exhaustion pulling you to it like gravity.

you heard hongjoong locking the door behind him, the soft click sounding loud in the quiet apartment. his footsteps shuffled toward the kitchen, the sounds of cabinets opening and closing reaching your ears. you were way too tired to look.

you didn’t realise you drifted off until you were awoken by something heavy on your body.

your eyes fluttered open groggily. for a moment, you thought you were dreaming. hongjoong was in the middle of draping a large blanket on you.

“what are you doing?” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep.

his eyes darted to yours briefly. “nothing.”

you frowned, shifting to sit up - but he placed a hand on your shoulder, pressing you gently back down. “sleep.”

you let out a quiet sigh. “shouldn’t you be sleeping?” you muttered.

he paused, his jaw tensing. “....tomorrow onwards, you’re training with me.”

you stared at him, stunned. before you could even say anything, he turned and walked away without a word.

…did your boss just tucked you in?

MONTH 3.5 -  PUNCH, KICK, SNARE

“again,” hongjoong said, slightly out of breath. 

the living room felt smaller than usual with the two of you moving around. the coffee table and couch was pushed aside, leaving just enough space to practice your punches without tripping over the furniture. he claimed training here would teach you how to ‘fight in tight quarters’.

he sighed. “your moves are sloppy.”

you groaned, shaking your aching wrists. “i’m trying.”

“that’s not enough when someone’s aiming a gun at your head,” he replied, stepping back and raising hands. “your punches are too weak and your balance is all over the place. reset your stance.”

you rolled your eyes but obeyed, repositioning your feet. it wasn’t the first time you’ve heard those words from him.

hongjoong moved closer, tapping your wrist. “keep your guard up. always.”

you threw another punch, but it barely made his hands move. he lowered them, sighing. “that’s not going to hurt anyone-“

“-i’m doing my best, okay?” you snapped. “i’m not a fast learner.”

his eyes softened for a moment before narrowing again. “that’s not an excuse when your life is on the line.”

you tsked. he was right of course, but that didn’t make it easier to hear.

“again.”

you tried once more, throwing a combination of punches that he blocked with ease. when you attempted a kick, you stumbled, nearly losing your footing.

he caught you instinctively, his hands steadying you.

“watch your balance,” he said automatically, going on a tangent on how training is important and blahblahblah. 

you tried to focus on your surroundings, on the words he was saying, but it was hard to ignore the proximity between you. the smell of his cologne mixed with the faint smell of sweat in the room. his touch wasn’t rough or aggressive like you’d expect - it was gentle.

your eyes drifted to his face, catching the faint scars along his cheekbones and jawline. were those always there? or was this the first time you really noticed?

his brows furrowed, likely in frustration at your lack of response, but the concern in his eyes snapped you back into reality, making you realise that you were staring the whole time.

“i don’t think i’m cut out for this,” the words spilled out before you could stop them.

hongjoong paused, his lips parting slightly - he wasn’t  expecting you to say that. for a moment, he was silent. he then leaned in, his eyes piercing. 

“you don’t get to quit.”

the intensity of his voice made you forget about the aches in your muscles and the sweat dripping down your back. his words weren’t angry - they were commanding. 

“why do you even care?” you whispered, barely audible.

his grip on your arms loosened slightly, his eyes searching yours for what felt like eternity. then out of nowhere, he stepped back, clearing his throat as he avoided your gaze. “take five,” he mumbled, walking to the kitchen.

MONTH 5 - BLOOD, BLOOD AND MORE BLOOD

the office building looked ordinary. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was just another corporate HQ. but you knew better.

and so did hongjoong.

you held up the new knife wooyoung gave you, one that wasn’t as pretty as the last. it was finally the day you ambushed your dad, the man that’s been wanting you dead for months.

you looked up to face hongjoong. “i don’t want to see it,” you said suddenly.

he raised an eyebrow. “see what?”

“when you kill him. my dad,” you clarified, your throat tightening. “i’m.. okay with it, but i don’t want to see it.”

his eyes studied you. after a moment, he nodded. “make sure to stay close to me,” he said before turning to the building.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the group slipped into the building through the side. hongjoong led the way, gripping his pistol tightly as you stayed close behind him.

“elevators are too risky,” hongjoong looked back at the group. “we’ll take the stairs.”

the group nodded, their weapons drawn as they moved quietly through the halls. the fluorescent lights did nothing to mask the sinister aura that was buried in the walls.

when you reached the stairwell, the sound of footsteps echoing above sent everyone into high alert.

the first shot rang out.

gunfire filled the stairwell. the air was thick with smoke and gunfire. you pressed yourself against the wall, trying to avoid all of the attacks happening around you. you tried to go in to fight but-

-someone grabbed you.

you struggled, twisting out of their grasp. but before you could scream, a hand clamped over your mouth, dragging you away. “stay still.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the stench forced your eyes open - a horrid mix of stale cigar smoke and alcohol. the office was dimly lit and your father crouched infront of you, his face smug as he cornered you.

“you think you’re better than me, don’t you?” he sneered.

you glared at him, your heart pounding. “fuck off.”

a bitter laugh escaped his lips. “you’ve gotten worse since you joined that boy,” he spat. “should i cut off your tongue? unhinge your jaw? or maybe i’ll be basic and shoot you.”

“you’re insane,” your stomach twisted. “it’s hard to believe we’re related, especially with how ugly you are.”

“you-”

before he could finish, you jammed wooyoung’s knife into his other thigh, dragging it down to create a large gash. he let out a guttural scream, stumbling into a desk as his pants turned a dark red.

you moved quickly, scrambling out of the corner, but two piglets grabbed you before you could get far.

“stupid bitch,” your father hissed, forcing himself up as he took out the knife in his thigh, looking directly at you. “you’re going to regret that.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

as hongjoong shot another piglet with his pistol, he looked around the haze, searching for a certain someone. “where’s ‘____’?” he asked.

the group stayed silent.

“shit- we don’t know,” wooyoung said nervously.

hongjoong’s face darkened - and without hesitation, he grabbed a nearby piglet by the collar, slamming him against the wall. “where’s your boss?” he snarled.

the piglet squirmed. “i- i have a family!”

hongjoong’s grip on his collar tightened, his eyes widening scarily. “then bring me to him.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“your mother should’ve gotten the abortion,” your father said before settling down infront of you, the bloody knife close to your face. “then my money wouldn’t be wasted on cunts like you.”

“i’m surprised that you got a woman like her to fuck you,” you breathed out shakily as the blade hit your skin. 

“i guess you inherited her bitchiness.”

the door burst open as the knife grazed your skin. hongjoong stepped in, his gun raised. “let go of her,” he ordered.

the piglets hesitated, glancing between your father and hongjoong. your father’s hand didn’t move, a scar forming on your face. 

“you want her that badly?” your father asked mockingly. “you’re becoming soft.”

hongjoong didn’t answer. instead, he moved faster than you thought was possible, shooting the two piglets that held you with ease.

the bodies hit the ground - causing your father to shove you harshly against the wall. pain shot through your body as you heard something crack.

hongjoong froze, his pistol trained on your dad. 

“stay back,” your father warned, hovering the blade near your temple.

hongjoong’s jaw clenched. he dropped his gun slightly, making your father relax.

but then hongjoong lunged.

the fight was brutal, all punches and grunts. you slumped against the wall, your cheek bleeding uncontrollably as every part of your body ached.

after what felt like ages, hongjoong finally gained the upper hand, pinning your dad down as he pointed the gun to his head. but then his eyes landed on yours, wide and terrified - making him freeze.

“shit,” he cursed under his breath, lowering the gun. he turned and rushed to you, pulling you into his arms.

your father tried to crawl away, but hongjoong didn’t let him go far. with you in his embrace, he covered your eyes and ears tightly as the sound of a singular gunshot echoed in the room.

you clung to him, your tears soaking into his shirt. his hand cradled the back of your head, his touch soft. “it’s over,” he whispered as you sobbed.

you shook your head against his chest, the salt in your tears stinging the cut on your cheek. “i almost died.”

“i know,” he said softly. “but i wouldn’t let that happen.”

his words settled over you like a warm blanket. you pulled back slightly, your eyes searching his face. you could feel the heat of his body as he kept you close.

hongjoong shifted, his hands moving to your shoulders as he looked at you carefully. his thumb brushed over your scar, wiping away the trail of blood on your face.

“you’re shaking,” his eyebrows furrowed. “you need to breathe.”

“i’m trying.”

he reached for a nearby chair and pulled it over, guiding you to sit. hongjoong crouched infront of you, your hands trembling in his.

“you’re safe,” his eyes locked onto yours. “i’ve got you.”

something inside you cracked at his words - and tears spilled once more. hongjoong didn’t say anything, but his presence was enough. he stayed crouched infront of you, letting you take all the time you needed.

when you finally looked up, there was something unspoken in his eyes - a mix of guilt and relief that made your heart ache. “...thank you,” you whispered.

his lips parted like he wanted to say something, but the words never came. instead, he nodded slowly, his grip on your hands tightening for a moment before letting go.

at that moment, you leaned forward, closing the small distance between you. your lips brushed against his, just enough to make his entire body stiffen.

for a second, you thought you made a mistake. his hands paused midair and his breathing hitched.

but then, he moved. to you. 

his hands cupped your face gently, pulling you closer into a kiss. it was slow at first, but when you gripped his shirt tightly - the feelings he’d been keeping were let loose.

his lips pressed against yours with urgency. his fingers tangled in your hair, holding you like you might disappear if he let go. 

you responded instinctively. your hands found his neck, his jaw - brushing over them softly in a way that made him groan. “fuck- you’re so pretty.”

the world around you spun in swirls of blood, smoke and cologne, overwhelming you in a way that made you lose your breath.

hongjoong broke away for a moment, panting slightly. his lips curled into a smirk, before he kissed you again, softer this time but no less intense. it was grounding, reassuring and impossibly warm.

when the two of you pulled back, his thumb traced your scar. “this..” he began quietly. “..this isn’t what i expected tonight.”

you let out a soft, shaky laugh. “me neither.”

he pecked your forehead as he stood up, his legs slightly wobbly from the kiss. hongjoong held out a hand, helping you to your feet. “...let’s go home.”

series taglist - @hanoishere @scuzmunkie @sinfullygay @arusio @midnightrebel1028 @neemaxx @seungminsrighthand @arilevenatz @ateezswonderland @beabatiny @lemirabitur @sunnyhokyu @frzzenfrxg @cylovesmg @txtsoobean @seonghwasslytherin @sundaybossanova @sweetinsaniiity @cybrnaya @choisanchwego @mrskill2

BONUS SCENE - MINE

the apartment was quiet as you laid on the pull-out couch, staring at the ceiling. sleep wasn’t coming - your mind was too busy replacing the events earlier.

the memory of hongjoong’s arms around you stayed, along with the feeling of his lips on yours. how could a man as dangerous as him bring you such comfort?

a soft knock against the wall broke the silence.

you sat up slowly, seeing hongjoong standing in the hallway. his hair was slightly damp and he wore a loose black hoodie, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. he hesitated before walking to you, his movements weirdly awkward.

“...you okay?” you asked the nervous man.

he shrugged, trying to play it off as he sat next to you. “i’m fine. you?”

“i’ve been better.”

there was a pause as the two of you stared at each other, the silence heavy. finally, he cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably.

“i’ve been thinking..” hongjoong trailed off.

“uh-oh.”

“i-it’s not a bad thing-” he said hurriedly. “it’s just that.. tonight made me think about a lot of things.”

you tilted your head, confused.

his voice softened as he continued. “but this isn’t just about tonight. it’s about.. everything. i don’t want you to feel.. unsafe all the time.”

“i don’t,” you said instantly, but you’re not sure how much you believed yourself.

he leaned back slightly, reaching into his hoodie pocket. when his hand reappeared, it was holding a pistol - his pistol, sleek and black.

“take this,” he held it out to you.

you blinked, staring at the weapon. “what? why?”

“because it’s mine,” he replied simply leaving no room for argument. “and now, it’s ours.”

you hesitated, your hand hovering over the gun. “i.. i barely know how to use this.”

“then i’ll teach you.”

you looked up at him, searching his face for answers. “...why are you giving this to me?”

you noticed the way his eyes darted down as you looked at him, his fingers tightening around the pistol as he pushed it to you. 

“because,” hongjoong began quietly. “i trust you.”

your fingers paused before finally closing around the gun. the cold metal felt deadly in your grasp, but the way his eyes lit up made your heart swell.

“you trust me..?” you asked softly, a faint smile on your face. “hongjoong..”

his usual composure faltered as you said his name, a blush dusting his face. he swallowed the lump in his throat, gathering himself. “you’re not just a part of the group,” he said. “you’re more than that. to me.”

your eyebrows shot up, completely stunned. “...i don’t know what to say.”

“say yes.”

you blinked. “yes to what?”

“to being mine,” hongjoong’s hands fidgeted slightly.

your heart raced as you heard his words. a wide smile spread across your face as you realised what he was really asking.

“are you..” you paused. “are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

his breath got caught in his throat as he nodded. “yeah.”

the man that was the literal leader of an entire gang, was sitting nervous infront of you. it was a funny sight to see, but you brought yourself back to reality, answering his question.

“yes.”

a wave of relief washed over his face as he let out the breath he seemed to be holding. he reached out, his fingers brushing yours briefly as he leaned closer. “wanna sleep in my bed tonight?”

deleted scenes

other fics

[powderpinkandsweeet]

Loser Ellie haunts my thoughts

-kinda creepy Ellie, a little nsfw but not so much, apartment living, you live in the apartment above her, she loves some wiggle and jiggle

You crossed her path once in a while since you lived in the same apartment complex. You would smile at her as you passed by, a quiet “good morning” or “hello” exchanged between you two. Your smile was so warm, and your voice sweet. To and from your homes, she savored the smell of your shampoo as you passed in the narrow stairwell.

You lived directly above her one-bedroom apartment. Ellie only knew your name because a package of yours had been delivered to her by mistake. The return address was for a cosmetics company, so it was definitely delivered to her by mistake. She guessed that C233 was close enough to C333 to be a mistake, or maybe the mailman just didn’t feel like climbing to the third floor. Either way, she took great pleasure in learning more about you and standing on your doorstep. You didn’t answer when she knocked, so she left a sticky note atop the box and left it on your welcome mat.

“The mailman left this for me but I think it’s yours.

-Ellie, C233”

Ellie loved how predictable you became. She had practically memorized your routine by the sound of your footsteps or the water running through the drain of your shower and through the building’s pipes. She knew you did laundry on Sunday afternoons because of the dryer rumbling from above. You moved from room to room with soft steps, and she could tell when you’d have company over by pairs of footsteps clomping overhead. She almost thanked the landlord for how shittily the apartments were built. She was fortunate that sound traveled so well across the poorly insulated walls.

Ellie loved how predictable you became. On weekdays she knew you got up to shower at 6:30 and left at 7:30. One day she had trailed behind you as you drove to work, wearing a baseball cap with the brim pulled low and dark sunglasses, hoping you hadn’t recognized her having seen her climbing in and out of her truck in the parking lot.

You usually left work around five, but occasionally you would surprise her by sneaking out a few minutes early. If she stayed a few car lengths and timed it right, she could park and get to the stairwell so she could walk up behind you. Days you wore a skirt were Ellie’s favorite—especially the windy ones. Three steps behind she could see up your skirt, watching your ass bounce and your panties ride up as you made your way up to your apartment. One time she was lucky enough to have her phone out and take a picture. A video would be even better, but she could never get the angle right without being too obvious. She still liked when you wore pants, though. Tight jeans clung to your ass and leggings could ride up between your ass cheeks and your pussy lips if they were thin enough.

The apartment complex had a pool, and in the warm seasons on Sunday mornings you would swim laps. Since Ellie’s balcony was close enough to view the pool, sitting outside and watching you swim became part of her morning routine too.

She would roll and light a joint as you shed your cover-up, putting your hair into a bun and slowly stepping in. If it were quiet enough and she listened closely, she could hear you gasp as you dipped into the cold water. When you were tired enough from swimming, Ellie would perk up as you stepped out. The water dripping down your body, between your breasts, down your spine, between your legs… When you climbed out fast enough she could see your tits bounce in the cups of your swimsuit top.

When sun was down and the nights drew to a close, your apartment was quiet. No more footsteps, water running, or the hum of the TV. Tonight was an exception to the usual peaceful silence.

Drifting to sleep late at night, Ellie’s eyes snapped open as she heard buzzing. It was quiet, so for a second she thought maybe she’d gotten a text, or someone was calling her. She had no messages and the buzzing was going on for far too long to be a phone call. Sitting up, Ellie looked at the ceiling. Your bedroom would be above hers, right? Your bed could even be directly above hers. With how small it was there weren’t many places to put it without blocking the door to the closet or the hallway, so it would just make sense.

Ellie stumbled to her feet on the mattress, and the buzz was a little closer as she was closer to the ceiling. She flinched as she heard the springs of your mattress squeak. Were you alone? Ellie thought she only heard your footsteps, and there were no humming voices at any point throughout the evening. You must be all alone up there.

Ellie could almost picture it, you clutching a vibrating wand in your shaking hands as you writhe on the mattress. She wished she were there to see it. You would tremble under her hands as they gripped your legs and held the vibrator to your clit. You would squeal and beg as she clicked the button on the wand up one setting higher. Ellie would press the head of the wand harder on your clit, your wet pussy obscenely squelching and buzzing as your eyes rolled back in your head and your jaw dropped.

All too soon, the buzzing coming from upstairs stopped. Ellie was pulled from her reverie by the silence, unsure if the cries she heard were real or imagined. Ellie repeated them in her mind as her hand remained stuck in her boxers, coming with your name on her tongue. That night she fell asleep quickly, hoping that the buzzing sound would come back soon.

…

Pt two if you want it 👉👈

[guksfairy]

I’m Tired Anyways

Jungkook x bubbly OC

playlist • original scene •

WC: 2K

In which Jungkook shows you he genuinely cares about you in his own way

💗: HEAVILY inspired by that one scene in ‘When I Fly Towards You’! If you want to see the original scene I based this fic off of I linked it above and it starts at minute 19:32 💗 !

note: I wrote this fairly quick so please excuse mistakes 🥲

You wish you could stare at her with a genuine smile but how could you? There she was standing with your Jungkook! Maybe not yours yet but eventually your Jungkook!

You watched as they stood in front of a stand looking at all the souvenirs displayed on the table along with a variety of other objects.

“Are you aware you’re pouting like a kid who was just told no?” You stare back at your best friend of 4 years and let out a breathy sigh.

“Sua, do you think they’re still close?”

“Considering this is their first time seeing one another after 2 years…no,” you begin to smile, “but who says people can’t reconnect,” and it goes away in an instant.

“You’re not helping,” you say fully turning and staring at the variety of sunglasses on the rack in front of you.

“You know I’m only joking! You can’t seriously be this upset because Jungkook and a girl from his old school are catching up,”

You walked out of your English exam tired as fuck. You looked at the other students walking out along with you and every single one looked tired. Your exam group had to get up at 6 AM for your test which would be from 7 AM to 10 AM.

Not all 3 hours were used but if you wanted a good mark than you better use them. As you walked down the ramp to the exit you catch a glimpse of Jungkook walking back and forth clearly waiting for you at the exit.

“Jungkook!” you run to him with a completely different emotion from the prior. His group was slightly luckier with their test only being 2 and a half hours long.

“I thought your test ended a half hour ago. Were you waiting for me?” you liked to tease him. He wasn’t big on emotions but even a smile would do for you.

“Oh- uh I just came out now,” you can tell he was bluffing but let it go realizing your other three friends weren’t with him.

“Have Sua, Jimin, and Minhyuk not finished their tests?” you question as you watch his eyes trail to the left and stared at the three crouching on the floor.

“She’s so in love with him she doesn’t even notice us,” you hear Minhyuk say as you smile shyly at Jungkook as he lets a barely audible laugh.

The three walk towards you and Jungkook.

“Well I need some food in my system. Should we look up places to eat here?” Jimin’s already taking his phone out before you can all agree but all your attention is quickly taken when you hear a voice call Jungkook’s name.

“Jungkook! Is that you? I thought I recognized you!” it was an older man walking towards your group with a girl who looked your age.

“Mr. Fukutomi,” Jungkook turns and greets the elder with a handshake. He wore a green badge signifying he was a teacher.

“It’s been a while since I last saw you! You remember my granddaughter, Tsuki,” she waves at your entire group and you try your best to keep a smile.

He remembers her?

“I’m assuming you came here to take your annual science exam? How was it?”

“I did and it was fine. I enjoy science a lot,” he speaks as the four of you just watch and listen to their interaction.

“Well it’s almost lunch time. Have you all eaten?” he asks and stares at us all.

“We were just on our way sir,” you hear Minhyuk behind you. You could hear the desperation in his voice for this conversation to end so he could finally grab some food.

“You should let Tsuki show you around town and then have lunch together afterward. She practically grew up here,” the elder suggests making a hand movement towards Tsuki who just smiled.

Again. You hear Minhyuk let a quiet sigh at the thought of doing something before eating.

“Oh we wouldn’t want to bothe-” ”Nonsense! I’m sure you two would like to catch up too!” he cuts off Jungkook before wishing you all a great day and walking away.

You all wave goodbye to him and watch Tsuki walk closer to you guys.

“I know this great sight seeing area but we need to walk a bit far for it,” she says.

“You think we can grab some snacks or something first,” Jimin asks.

“Of course. We can stop at the souvenir shop around the corner. They sell tons of snacks from around the world,” she explains.

“Lead the way,” Jimin replies as she lets out a small laugh and you all begin walking.

You walk shoulder to shoulder with Jungkook before realizing Tsuki was on his other side and they were laughing and conversating so you walk slower to be with Sua who was behind you.

“What’s wrong?” she notices your head slightly down as you wrap your arm around hers. You don’t even realize when Jungkook took notice of you leaving his side as he stared back at you.

You looked upset which worried him. Maybe he’ll ask you when you guys arrive at the shop.

“Tsuki’s pretty,”

“So are you, Y/N,” she replies.

“Tsuki seems smart,”

“So are you, Y/N. Stop sulking before I tell Tsuki to leave. Besides you know how head over heels Jungkook is for you,”

No. You don’t. Often times your friend group would tease you and Jungkook and would always say how in love he was with you but you never fully saw it.

Sure he’s defended you multiple times, has come to your rescue on multiple occasions, and always walks you home but maybe that was just him being nice.

He’d have to do much more for you to feel fully confident in his feelings towards you.

“Stop it. You would never,” you say leaning your head on her shoulder following the pace of the group.

“Tsuki!” you hear her call out and immediately panic resulting in you giving her a minor hit on her arm before staring at Tsuki and smiling at her. You end up making eye contact with Jungkook who also turned around.

“Nothing! Are we almost there?” Sua ask.

“We’re here!” she says pointing the bright shop filled with a variety of snacks.

Jimin and Minhyuk run inside grabbing snacks they know your group would enjoy leaving you, Sua, Jungkook, and Tsuki outside to stare at all the keychains, bracelets, and postcards.

Tsuki drags Jungkook over to a table opposite of you and Sua before she begins picking out random items.

“Got them! Let’s go” Jimin and Minhyuk walk out of the store with 1 bag filled to the brim of snacks for the 6 of you.

Tsuki begins to lead the group once more to a different destination in mind.

This time she led you to a steep hill. Not too steep but steep enough. You felt your legs giving out just from looking at it.

“I told you guys it was a bit of a walk but I promise the sights on the way up are so worth it!” she says with desperation in her voice hoping you all wouldn’t mind.

When you got ready this morning you weren’t exactly dressing for a hike.

Tsuki smiles and begins walking up and was followed by Jungkook and wherever Jungkook goes so do Jimin and Minhyuk.

“Let’s go,” Sua says walking a slower pace then the rest yet you still felt the burn after some time.

“Up ahead is a famous landmark if you guys want to go even further. You can see further out and it’s pretty during the day. Besides it’s a weekday and not many people are around if you guys are up for it,” Tsuki told the group.

You had all been walking for about 20 minutes and had finally reached an area with a bench and a sight.

“Is it the same one that people post all over their Instagram accounts to seem adventurous? Because if so, I am in,” Jimin’s eyes light up

“Yeah I mean we’re already here,” Minhyuk says with energy received after eating a bar of chocolate.

The group begins to move again before you interrupt.

“You guys go ahead! I’m going to rest here and wait for you guys. My shoes are making it slightly uncomfortable to walk,” you voice gets audibly quieter as you speak.

You look at Jungkook whose eyes don’t leave yours for a second watching you lift your leg off the ground just slightly to ease the tension in it.

“I’ll stay with you if you want,” Sua says staring at you.

“It’s fine, really, go enjoy the view,” you say looking back at the group and realizing his eyes haven’t left your face at all.

His expression read worried before his attention was pulled by Tsuki, “Jungkook, let’s go?” she begins walking away and Jungkook stares at you one last time before following suit.

You watch as the rest of the group continues walking uphill and sit on the bench staring out.

It had been about half an hour since the group left and you were growing bored.

As you take out your phone a hand reaches in front of your face holding a carton of strawberry milk with a straw poked in.

Jungkook always does it for you.

“You didn’t go with the rest of the group?” you say smiling up at him and take the strawberry milk from his hands.

“I saw a stand of drinks when we were walking and you said strawberry milk always makes you feel better,” you listen to him as you take a sip of the sweet drink and watch him sit next to you.

“Besides, I’m tired anyways,” he looks back up to where the group originally left from before speaking once more, “…they’re probably going to take a while. Do you want to explore?” he says looking at you.

“Explore?” you stare at him as he smiles at you and begins grabbing your bag and placing it over his shoulder and allowing you to get up before walking a bit further down.

“Tsuki failed to mention there’s a cable car that takes you directly to the land mark,” Jungkook says leading you to the cable car waiting for passengers.

“Oh my god if Sua found out about this she would be so annoyed! She was also starting to get irritated with all the walking,” you say taking another sip of your drink.

He’s staring at you like you hung the stars and leads you to the cable car before the two of you sit and watch the trees pass by as the machine gets higher and higher.

“You’re not afraid?” he says looking over at you and you shake your head.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of when I’m with you,” you say with the biggest smile and he stares away before you can watch his face flush

From there you completely forgot about your friends, Tsuki, and time.

Jungkook led you to other areas he thought you’d like. He bought you both ice cream and even bought you a small plushie to put on your bag because you said it reminded you of him. Eventually you two ended up on the beach collecting shells and staring at the sunset. Afterwards you decided to enjoy the view from the pier.

You watched him staring out at the birds flying above the waters and promised yourself you wouldn’t give up. Even if it took you years for him to reciprocate his feelings you would not be giving up.

When he turned to stare at you it caused you to immediately fluster and face the sea pretending you weren’t staring.

He was the one watching you this time. He was thinking about the carnival that’s coming to your city soon. He was thinking about the fireworks they would be releasing at 10 PM sharp. He was thinking about how you would react to him asking you out.

Would you turn him down? Jungkook was well aware your feelings for him were serious but he was never sure how to make it obvious he too had them.

Would you say yes and kiss him like you had in his dreams?

He would just have to wait and hope for it all to workout.

[wearebarca]

11. Captured // Alexia Putellas x Original character pt. 11

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8* - Part 9* - Part 10

synopsis: Rosalie has never stayed somewhere too long. When the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself at critical moment in her life, the photographer decides to once again leave behind what she knows and joins the staff of Europe's best football team.

Word count: 5,6k

Warnings: 18+ Smut

A/N: This is the beginning of the end mes amis/es

Running long distances puts the mind and body through a multitude of states. It usually starts with exaltation from the feeling of being surrounded by people moving together. This feeling was usually followed by a sort of calmness that washes over ones self.  Alone in your thoughts, only one thing remained, the finish line. 

The first few miles were  crucial, they separated the ones with a time goal from the rest. By the fifth kilometer there were very few people around the photographer, which was a good sign. 

She was satisfied with her pace when she reached the first drink station at  the seventh kilometer. With her eyes on the prize and the world around her muffled by her earphones, she almost missed them. They were all wearing caps and sunglasses to not be recognized, but the amount of decibels emanating from the little group alone pulled the woman from her focus. Panos, Irene, Patri and Pina were standing on the side of the road  cheering. Rosalie almost lost it when she read the sign the youngest was carrying. “Pain is just French for bread.” 

She gave them all high fives, grabbed a cup of water and kept her pace. Seven kilometers later, she was met with another little group. This time, it was Frido, Ingrid, Aitana and Mapi who were just as loud. Mapi even ran a few meters with her while Ingrid took a few pictures. There was a group at every drink stop. Arsenal and Barcelona players mixing together, for today they were not only footballers and rivals, they were here to support their friend.

There’s this thing which every runner fears during a race. It’s almost inevitable. It’s this threshold where it feels like your body is giving up. Where your energy runs so low that you think your legs will give out under you if you take another step forward. It’s that point in the race where you wonder if you should just stop, give up, where you wonder if this is all worth it. It’s the breaking point. Most runners know this moment as “hitting the wall” 

This moment lies at a different moment for each person, and is often always at the same stage in each race. Experience runners know exactly at which kilometer they will face their wall, and Rosalie could feel hers arriving at the thirty fourth. That’s where breathing became more of an issue, when each step felt like she had lead in her feet. Her arms felt heavy and her head was pounding. Her steps faltered and the pain made the photographer slow down considerably. But still she ran, she was in complete autopilot, unable to focus on anything else but the pain she could feel coursing through her body. It couldn’t end here, not when she was only eight km away from the end. But her body was so heavy, she wasn’t sure if it could carry her to the finish line. 

Alexia had chosen the last drink stop. She had a feeling. The kind that she could not explain but told her that this would be where she was needed. She had driven there and parked on the side of the street. Upon arriving at the drink station, she saw that Sara, along with Lucy and Keira had already made themself comfortable. They were surprised to see the Spanish woman arrive alone, thinking she would be with the rest of the team at an earlier stop. They greeted her with a hug still and made some space in their little stop for the captain.

 “So what made you choose this stop to cheer?” Keira asked, knowing damn well that the brunette wouldn’t have told Alexia that this would most likely be her worst moment of this race.

“I do not know Keira,” She said perplexed, “ Is this not a good spot?” She asked. The woman's expression had sprinkled doubt in her mind. It almost felt like she shouldn’t be here. 

“Lucia?” She said towards the English woman, seeing as the younger woman had turned towards her, not knowing if she should say anything to her captain. 

Lucy took a big breath. “This usually is the point in a race where Rosalie breaks.” She said with a slightly worried expression. “No one besides us and her trainers knows about this.” She said her eyes went back to the street for a second before coming back to the blonde. “She doesn’t like to be seen like this, so we’re usually the only ones allowed at this stop when she runs this many kilos.” 

Alexia understood this. She hated when people witnessed her weakness. She understood why the brunette preferred to only have her family here when she was at her lowest, but she also felt deep down that she was right to be here. 

The first racers zoomed past the station, running at a pace that looked impossible to keep. They were professionals and it showed. While the footballers spoke, Sara stayed silent, her eyes fixed on the street, her phone out with the chrono app opened. She had tracked the race with the help of the other Barcelona players who had texted her at exactly what time Rosalie had reached each hydration stop. She knew that the photographer was not far behind this wave. Three hours and forty five minutes was the goal time, and at seven kilometers from the end and three hours and seven minutes passed, Rosalie should be at this station in less than five minutes. 

So when Sara first saw the outline of Rosalie’s silhouette, she was surprised. She had been faster than what they had both thought. Sara was aware of Rosalie’s wall. They had talked about it extensively, and seeing her this early only accentuated her worries. She stood up to try and catch a better look at the woman and realized two things. First, the brunette wasn’t running in a straight line, she was slightly zigzagging in the street, clearly unstable on her feet. And second, her head was hanging low. Her sudden movement startled the footballers who instantly rose to their feet and to see. 

Lucy had a worried yet knowing look upon seeing her friend running towards them. Keira took a step towards the road, but was met with Lucy’s arm keeping her from taking a step.

 “But she’s…”One look from the woman was enough to shut her up. Meanwhile Alexia stood frozen in place, torn between running towards her and staying here. In the end, Sara was the only one who met the French-Canadian in the street. She simply ran next to her, muttering encouraging words and telling her how fast she had run this race and how close she was to the end. But Rosalie registered none of it. She didn’t need to. All that was important to her was knowing that she was with people she loved right now and that was what made her keep moving. 

She saw Lucy’s proud expression, Keira’s quiet excitement, but the thing that hit her the most, was Alexia. Alexia who had chosen this specific stop without knowing, who’s gaze was filled with pride and something that looked a lot like reverence was fixed on her. Those bright hazel eyes that shone in the sunlight. She was smiling, and clapping with the rest of the small crowd, but Rosalie’s whole perspective seemed to narrow down to her. 

Something being thrusted in her hands pulled the brunette from her trance like state and reminded her of her current predicament. Upon looking down, she realized that she had been given some glucide gummies and a granola bar. She shoved the gummies in her mouth and gave back the bar to Sara along with a look that meant, “It’s ok, I’ll be ok.” 

The pain was still very much present, but so was the determination to finish this race. When she passed in front of the English woman, she winked at them and smiled, which pulled a laugh from them both. Alexia had her hand out, waiting for the photographer to grab it, which she did and let herself be pulled in a quick embrace.

 “You are amazing.” She heard the words being whispered in her ear before letting go of her hand and running towards the finish line with a newly lit fire. 

Catching the sight of the red inflatable archway was definitely in the top ten most euphoric moments of Rosalie’s life. She had pushed farther than she ever had and this was the tangible proof of her unrelenting efforts. The last 300 meters had the street flanked by gates with people twice as loud as they were at the beginning. Even if the runners were at their very last flicker of strength, the energy of the crowd and the sheer euphoria was enough to carry them to the line.

The closest she got, the wider her smile was stretching. Gone was the looming pressure in her abdomen that had been her companion for the last ten kilometers, gone was the heaviness in her legs that made her drag her feet. This was it, and her whole family was here to witness it. Beth was the first she spotted, most likely because she was the loudest one of the bunch, and around her, the rest of the Arsenal girls and Barcelona team were also cheering loudly. The moment her feet crossed the finish line, her head snapped to the group, on her face, the brightest smile they had seen her make in a long time. Collecting her medal was only an afterthought in her mind, the most important thing was to run to the gate and launch herself in the arms of this group of footballers who she considered her family. Only one person was allowed to cross over the gate with her. Usually, it was either Lucy or Leah who did, but this time, Rosalie caught herself wishing the blonde captain would. But nothing was official between the two, hell, they haven't even talked about anything remotely related to that subject. She was also aware of the presence of cameras all around, and the fact that the footballers had clearly been recognized by the looks that were sent their way. 

So she was not hurt when a volunteer ushered the player to cross the barrier only for the captain to decline and let Lucy pass. She would get her moment with the photographer later, and she would make sure Rosalie knew just how proud she was. As soon as the English player had passed the barrier, she grabbed the photographer in a bone crushing hug and lifted her off the ground. A multitude of photographers had converged towards them and captured the euphoric moments between sisters. 

Lucy did not put her down, but instead, started to walk towards the big screen a few meters from there. It displayed the arrival time of the runners and in which place they had finished the race. It had not even occurred to her that she should go see her time. Rosalie could feel in her bones that this had been a very good run but never had she thought that she could be high on the positions. So she began her search for her name at the bottom of the screen, and the more her eyes travelled up, the more incredulous she was. 

Twenty thousand runners in total. Twenty thousand people and she had placed fifth. Second, fastest woman, fifth place at her second marathon. She was frozen in place, with Lucy’s arms still around her and the crowds screaming around her. She turned around again to meet this captivating hazel gaze. The smile that stretched Rosalie’s features filled the captain’s heart with so much pride as she extended her arms, waiting for the brunette to crash into her. 

“I’m all sweaty and disgusting,” She whispered in the crook of her neck.

“I don’t care.” Alexia responded, holding her fiercely, not caring anymore about the gate between them nor all the eyes fixed on them. 

From there the afternoon flew by in a blur for the photographer, who got to collect her medal and met up  with the rest of her group under the restaurant / bar tent. It was easy to forget her body’s exhaustion when the atmosphere around her was so electric and festive. She got the chance to take pictures with all her friends and even some with the Barcelona players who had come to support her. She knew the media team would have a field day with those and for once, she would not mind the spotlight. 

No one had picked up their phones other than for pictures, so no one was aware of the shockwave some of those pictures were creating in the football world. This time was not meant for worries and public image, but for celebration. Rosalie was in the middle of a conversion with some of the runners she had met when a hand grabbed hers and gently guided her out of the tent. She was now in a calm, secluded spot outside, once again, in the arms of the woman who had quickly become such an important part in her life. 

“How does it feel to be one of the best?” Alexia asked playfully.

“You already know, I don’t need to describe it to you.” The brunette said. Alexia smiled at that, her hand moving on its own accord and tucking a stray strand of hair behind Rosalie’s ear. 

“I know you’re probably exhausted, but I was wondering if you would come over to my place tonight.” She said, bending down so her lips were leveled with the brunette's ear. “I want to show you just how proud I am of you.” She whispered in a low husky voice that made Rosalie’s breath hitch. Alexia’s lips brushed against the shell of her ear and Rosalie’s eyes closed, trying to concentrate on staying upright. Too caught up in the moment, none of them heard the click of a camera, nor the rapid movement of someone exiting the premises. 

After dinner, it was agreed that the Arsenal girls would head back to their hotel and they would all make plans together in the afternoon to let Rosalie relax. As the group started to gather their stuff, Rosalie headed to the spot where she had left her bags and was followed by Alexia and Lucy. ALexia picked up most of the burnette's bags and Lucy sent a look her way, quickly understanding that the marathonian would not ride back with her. She gave one last hug to the girl, telling her again how proud she was and that she would call her in the morning to plan something with her and the rest of the arsenal girls. She then headed back to the table, but not without teasing the duo one last time. 

Stepping into the space, The first thing Rosalie noticed was the hurried sound of little steps coming their way. It only took a second for the small dog to make its appearance in the corridor. Nala beelined for the photographer who, not without wincing, bent down to collect the fluffy beast. 

“Wow I see how it is.” Alexia chuckled as she took her shoes off and bent down to unlace Rosalie’s trainers. Rosalie sat down on the small bench and let the footballer slide her shoes off. She took Rosalie’s free hand and guided her deeper into her home. 

The long corridor was framed by a multitude of jerseys all from different teams and with different names. Rosalie recognized most of them, some being legends and others she had heard of. 

“These are all from jersey swaps.” Alexia said, noticing the brunette’s interest. “All from games that matter a lot to me.” She said, her gaze distant as it stopped on a particular England jersey. It was Lucy’s, from the 2022 Euro final. Suddenly, something changed in those hazel irises. “I know you are biased, Rosalia, but this is our time.” She said with determination.

Rosalie could only admire the strength and determination Alexia was showing, but she also was dreading this tournament for this exact reason. Both of the teams were likely the favorites and the chances of facing each other in the finals were high. 

Alexia seemed to come out of her trance and guided the brunette deeper into her space. The corridor led to a very spacious open kitchen concept. The apartment was on two stories, with a high ceiling and a mezzanine that likely led to the master bedroom and bathroom. The walls were white and decorated with minimalist artwork. The space was dimly lit which brought a cosy feeling to this big open space. It was all very Alexia. Very simple, almost bare, but homely nonetheless. 

“There’s not much to look at, I know.” The blonde said. “I just don’t like to feel cluttered.

“Non non it’s very nice, I like it.” Rosalie said with a smile. Alexia answered with her own as she made her way up the stairs. She motioned to the photographer and she followed, not without struggling to climb the stairs with her exhausted legs. Before she had reached the top, she heard the sound of a bath being drawn. When she arrived in the master bathroom, Alexia had lit up a myriad of candles and was sitting on the side of the bath to test the water temperature. “You don’t have to Ale.” 

Alexia stood up and walked the few feet separating her from the brunette. “I know, but I want to, hermosa.” Alexia left a gentle kiss on Rosalie’s forehead and left the bathroom, allowing the brunette the space to undress and relax. Rosalie lost track of how long she stayed there, but by the time she pulled herself out of the tub, the water was lukewarm and her skin had pruned. She wrapped her towel around her and walked out of the bathroom. She peered over the railing to see if the taller woman was downstairs but there was no sign of her. She walked down the corridor to what she assumed was Alexia’S bedroom, where she could hear faint music playing

She stopped at the door, taking in the room, and the woman inside. Alexia had changed from her jeans and hoodie, to comfy looking linen shorts, and what appeared to be Rosalie’s college T-shirt. She smiled at the thought of Alexia stealing the piece of clothing and imagined her going around in her apartment with it on while the photographer was away in London.

She then took in the rest of the room. The same decoration style translated from the rest of the apartment to Alexia’s bedroom, but the space seemed more personal with a few pictures hung on the walls. Some were with familiar faces, teammates from barça or some she recognized from the national team, and others that featured women who shared a striking resemblance to the captain.  One in particular caught the photographer’s attention as she stepped in the room and stepped in front of the frame. 

They were at the beach. Alexia was wearing the same bikini she had on the day they all went together. She was clinging to an older woman and kissing her cheek while the other one, a younger brunette, was kissing the other cheek. Joy seemed to seep out of this photograph and Rosalie could not help but smile at it. 

“ This is my sister and my mother.” Alexia said as she made her way towards the brunette and wrapped her arms around Rosalie’s waist.

“ You guys look close.” Rosalie said. The words felt bittersweet in her mouth as a fleeting thought of her own relationship with her mother crossed her mind. “You are lucky.” She finally said with a small smile playing on her lips.

“ Oh I do not know about that.” Alexia chuckled. “Alba can be a pain in the ass. Tan entrometida.”

“Aren’t all siblings?” Rosalie said laughing. Alexia paused for a second, impressed by the fact that Rosalie caught what she had said.

“Yes, I’ve been working on my Spanish.” She said with a cheeky smile as she turned in Alexia’s arms, facing her. “So Capitana, mind telling me what this setup is for?.” Rosalie said, motioning to the bed behind them.

Alexia took the brunette’s hand and guided her to the bed, she lightly pushed her down,but with her level of exhaustion, it didn’t take much for the photographer to tumble down on the bed. Only then did she realize a towel had been laid down on the sheets. 

“ Mais qu’est-ce…” Before she could finish her sentence, Alexia left her side to pick up a bottle that Rosalie recognized as massage oil. “ Oh, tu es parfaite.” 

Alexia smiled, having understood partly what the French-Canadian had said. “ You relax now, bonita.” She said, popping the cap opened. 

Alexia’s hands felt divine as they worked through the muscle of her legs. She worked with precision, applying pressure where she felt knots and easing the tension in the muscles. Every swipe of her hand threatened to pull a moan from the photographer.

 “Alexia this is..” Rosalie could not even finish her sentence because a particular press at the muscle of her thigh forced a groan from her lips. “ Where did you learn this.”

“ I have had my fair share of physio appointments to have learned a thing or two.” When Alexia was done, the photographer was half asleep on the bed, body like jelly and in a state of relaxation she wasn’t sure she had ever experienced. “Rosalia,” Alexia whispered, “We have to wash away the oil, come.”

Rosalie could only hum at the blonde, who laughed and picked up the smaller woman and carried her to the bathroom once again. They showered together, scrubbing the oil away, but not without getting carried away in the process. When they finally slipped back under the covers, it only took a minute for the photographer to be whisked away in a deep slumber. Alexia pulled the brunette in her embrace and settled behind her, soon following her in the realm of dreams. 

If you’d ask Rosalie about her favorite types of morning, she would tell you something along the lines of early breakfast, a good run, a shower and a late brunch alone  or with good company. But that was before this morning. Before she knew that it was possible to be woken up by the crescendo of her release rapidly approaching. She woke up gasping, her body jolting, but powerful hands were holding her hips down on the sheets, trapping Rosalie under Alexia’s relentless mouth. 

One of her hands grabbed her pillow as the other tangled itself in blonde locks. She could feel Alexia’s lips curl into a smile. “Bon dia Rosalia.” She all but purred, the vibration sending a shock through her whole body. 

Rosalie didn’t get the chance to answer the captain because her sentence was cut short by a guttural moan escaping her lips as she felt two fingers enter her. 

Alexia met no resistance as she lazily pumped her fingers, matching the rhythm of her tongue on her clit. She knew that Rosalie was close by the way she was squeezing her fingers. She switched the movement of her tongue to wrapping her lips around her clit and gently sucking. She curled her fingers and found that specific place which pushed Rosalie over the edge, the sensation growing so strong, she lost control of her body. Her mind going blank, she finally surrendered completely to her release. 

Alexia held her through it, her fingers slowing down but not stopping, wanting to drag out every ounce of Rosalie’s orgasm. Only when the fingers in her hair started to pull lightly did she finally pulled her fingers out and kiss her up the runner’s body. She was simply mesmerizing. Her chest was heaving still, her brunette hair was sprawled on the pillow in a hollow and a light smile was playing on her lips. 

“How are you feeling, little champion?” Alexia whispered before kissing her cheek lightly. 

“Wonderful.” She answered, feeling her body grow heavy once more and her eyes closing on their own accord. 

“You should get more sleep, you deserve it.” She said, tucking the brunette in the covers. 

Alexia grabbed her phone and a large t-shirt and left the bedroom, but not before checking back to the photographer, who had already drifted back to sleep. 

The Arsenal girls knew that there was no way Rosalie would be able to get up at the same time as them today. They knew how demanding the day before was and were glad to know the brunette was finally relaxing. The were all gathered aroud a little table in a coffee shop near Steph’s hotel, along with Lucy and Keira,when all hell broke loose.

Beth was the first to see the pictures. It was hard not to, they were circulating online at record speed. She first passed the phone to Leah, who was the one closest to her. It was the England captain's expression that caught Lucy’s attention. She saw her features go from shock to anger in the space of a few seconds. Then, it was the look in her eyes, like she was ready to end someone’s life right there and then. One look and the phone was passed to the older brunette. 

The first one was of the club. It had been taken from the bar where the person had a clear view of the dancefloor. You could see the team dancing and having fun, but in the far corner, There was Alexia, with a very recognizable expression, dragging a clueless Rosalie to the confines of the club bathroom. Anyone could guess that this was not a normal gals chat waiting to happen. The second one was of them exiting the club. Clearly disheveled and in a hurry. Force was to admit that these two could have been taken by any paparazzi or fan present that night.

But the others. Those were worrying. One was taken from a high point of view and panned down to the pitch where Alexia was standing very close to Rosalie, her hand on her hips and smiling down at the brunette. The other was of them, behind the tent the day before. The person had caught them kissing, arms wrapped around each other. The next one was the same settings, probably a few seconds after and showed them both smiling like idiots. Lucy took a second to really look at it. They looked happy and it warmed her heart to see it but soon enough, the reason she had these pictures ignited her anger again. 

The last one was the one that worried her the most. It was of Rosalie and Alexia walking up to an apartment complex. One Lucy knew well. This person had knowingly or not, divulged Alexia's address on social media.  

Lucy stood up abruptly and pulled out her own phone for her pocket. She prayed that the two women were still wrapped in their little bubble, too caught up in each other to check their phones. 

Her first call was to Marcello. She wanted to know who had posted these. Turns out, the new head of social media was already on the case. Then her finger hovered on her captain’s contact name. She knew that when it came to her private life, Alexia became fiercely protective. So she decided that it would be better if Alexia was coaxed into the news rather than discovered it like the last time. 

She waited for the woman to pick up, and at the moment she was about to give up, the line opened and all she could hear were rapid spanish cursing and loud clattering. “Alexia?”

“Aye, mierda, un momento Lucia.” she heard far away as more clattering followed by a string of very colourful words. 

“Ok ok, que quieres?” The poor blonde sounded overwhelmed. 

“What in the world are you doing Ale?”

“Burning breakfast.” Her answer followed by the sound of plates clattering. 

“Ok ok is Rosie still knocked out?” An awkward silence followed her question and Lucy cringed internally. “Don’t answer that. Have you been on your socials today?”

“No, why?” The silence that followed sent a chill in Alexia’s veins. She put the English woman on speaker and opened instagram. Lucy simply waited, listening to the blonde’s breathing in the speaker. She allowed her the time to process all this, and only spoke when she heard the sound of a chair being pulled and a long exhale on the other side of the line. 

“Ale?”

“Who.” That single word was laced with so much anger, it surprised the older woman. 

“We don’t know yet. Marcello is looking into it.” Another silence. 

“Did you see the comments?” Alexia asked, her voice cold and deadly. Lucy paused. She had not thought about that before and a ball dropped in her stomach. She had an idea of what exactly she would find if she was to scroll down the comment section and the thought alone drove her mad. 

“Lucy there’s people outside.” Alexia said. Looking out her window and seeing a bunch of people with cameras on her street.

“Ok you need to call management now Alexia. And please, this is going to be hell for her too…” Lucy started, but was cut off by the blonde. 

“Si, I know, do not worry.” She said, hanging up after. 

It took another hour for the Brunette to wake up. She threw on  an oversized Barcelona t-shirt she found laying on the dresser and made her way down the stairs. By then, Alexia had managed to get a hold of the disastrous breakfast situation and was sitting at the kitchen island. There was soft music playing in the background and everything was set up for a relaxing breakfast, and yet the atmosphere felt extremely tense. Rosalie could see the tension in Alexia’s posture and the way her shoulders rose then fell in rhythm with each shaky breath. 

It was like being splashed with cold water. Rosalie froze only a few feet from the captain, who seemed to sense her presence and pivoted on her stool. Her wild gaze seemed to soften at the sight of the photographer, but hardened once more at the sound of her phone buzzing on the counter. 

« What’s… what’s going on Alexia? » Rosalie asked, stuttering a little. 

“Where is your phone?” Alexia asked quickly. 

“I don’t know. It’s probably still in my bag, I didn’t take it out when we arrived.” Rosalie answered, confused about the question.

 “Why? Did someone try to reach me? Is everything ok?” She asked, panic starting to rise and making her words stumble out rapidly. 

Alexia stood up. She could see that her state was affecting the photographer. She made her way to the smaller woman and took her hands in hers. They had started shaking and shiny green orbs were piercing through her, waiting for an explanation. 

“Someone put some pictures of us online.” She said softly, as if her gentle voice could erase the message it had to convey. “They stalked us and caught us together. They even posted pictures of the front of my apartment.”

Only now did Rosalie register the noise coming from the opened window in the living room. She made a move to go see but Alexia didn’t let go of her hands and pulled her closer to her. “No no no Rosalia please listen to me.”

Rosalie’s breathing was quickening. In Such a short time, her privacy had been invaded twice. Plastering on the wall her life and shattering once again the fruits of her healing. She had already come so close to losing this connection with the captain and now once again, she was being thrusted into the spotlight against her will.

She could not stand to be this close to the woman she was sure would hate her again. She tried to pry away from her grip and put some distance between the two but strong hands kept her still.

 “Rosalia look at me” The words were muffled by the ringing in her ears, which seemed to intensify with every second. Her eyes were flying around the room without being able to focus on anything. She could feel herself slip into a state of panic, the feeling overpowering her. 

“ I’m… I’m sorry so… Merde… Je suis désolé Alexia please I’m…” words were stumbling out and she simply had no control over her own reaction. She was rapidly spiraling when warm hands connected with her cheeks. 

“Rosalie, breathe with me please.” Alexia took a long inhale and held it in for a second before letting go. Rosalie tried but it felt like something was constricting her chest and keeping her from breathing in. Alexia brought her hand up to her chest and laid her own on the photographer’s. “Here, can you feel me? I can feel you Rosalia, I am here with you. I am not going anywhere.”

She focused on the rise and fall of the footballer’s chest. A steady beat that grounded her and slowly brought her back in the present. Alexia stayed still allowing the photographer the time she needed. Time she herself needed to wrap her head around their situation. 

Rosalie’s forehead had, at some point, landed on Alexia’s shoulder. All her senses were flooded by the blonde’s presence and her words were slowly registering in her mind. They didn’t know how long they stayed in this position but when Rosalie finally moved, her limbs felt stiff and sore. Her gaze travelled up and reached Alexia’s own. “ Do you mean that?”

“Si, preciosa, I am not going anywhere, it’ll be ok.”

They spend the day on the sofa. Rosalie watched bad reality shows and documentaries while Alexia was, as always, studying their opponent’s previous games before their next champion league meet. Everytime one of their phones would light up, they tensed and waited a second before reaching for the device. Alexia and Lucy had kept in touch during the day but nothing new had come from their little investigation. Just like the first time, it was agreed that a meeting with the concerned parties and management would be held the next day and this time, Alexia was determined to have better results than before.