#spies on himself and waits for the chance to meet his partner

[ordinariums-a]

@laomedeiia

"Wow. You are beautiful." He expected .. well, he didn't know what to expect. Human, demon, maybe even a lil push into something else that would make his skin crawl like they did - but this one feels different. He can't put his finger on it. What an interesting choice. "Really, I didn't think any version of me could handle someone like you. What's your name?"

[justarandombrit]

Uh so I've been doing loads of oneshots from prompts for a while now. I don't have an Ao3 account so I've not been posting them anywhere, but I did one that I'm actually decently proud of and want to share.

Prompt: 33. “I'd like to see you try.” - Curtwen (Spies Are Forever)

It was loud. That was all Curt could think.

His mind was racing so fast that each individual complex thought and emotion blurred into noise. It wasn't just a faint humming, like a computer box trying to process too much, or even crackling static.

No, Curt’s mind was creating the noise of a thousand man marching band, all beating out a drumroll that would never end. It made the sound of a stormy ocean, waves crashing unceasingly against a rock that was just out of Curt’s sight. His brain created the sound of a bomb detonating in too close a range, played out infinitely, never giving him a chance to hear the ringing left in his ears.

That last one was a sound he knew all too well.

Although, he thought with a stab of hurt, the man in front of him likely knew it better.

Owen stood above him, blocking out the minimal moonlight from the thin museum window. Curt didn't need to count the steps between him and Owen to know it was far more than one. His partner had always been a master of understatement.

“I imagine this came as a shock.”

Case and point.

Curt, trying to push down the noise in his brain, lifted his head (and gun) to defiantly meet Owen’s gaze.

Owen's eyes were cold and unfeeling. Their dull brown reflected the blue of the moonlight, reminding Curt of the storm in his head. They seemed almost too glassey, although Curt didn't allow himself to hope for tears. He didn't allow himself the delusion.

It was odd; to stare into Owen’s eyes and see nothing of the man he knew.

Back when the two were partners (could that really have been just four years ago - it felt like a lifetime), Curt could know Owen’s emotion, plan, motivation and lunch ideas all with a single glance at the man’s eyes. Now he couldn't place a single one. None at all, except pure hatred.

Either Owen had got better at hiding his thoughts, or he no longer thought remotely the same as he had four years prior. Curt didn't know which idea hurt more.

Curt didn't know how much time had passed since Owen last spoke, but he figured he should respond. He didn't know what to say.

He delved deeper, deeper into the chasm of his mind, spurred on by the thought of a word, a phrase, something that would get his Owen back.

Wait.

The drumroll ended. The storm stopped. The building fell.

He knew what to say.

“We'll stop you.”

Owen glared down at Curt, pure contempt written all over his features.

“I'd like to see you try.”

[melishade]

In the Soundwave timeline, how's he gonna take over the world? He and Laserbeak have a groundbridge and some Cybertronian ship, but will that be enough to stop Optimus and Megatron from protecting humanity? Marley and Paradise are working well together so far, especially with Calvi out of the picture and Willy befriending Optimus, so they have a huge advantage over Soundwave.

Part 8: Willy and Lara feelings about Megatron

Soundwave still has Pieck, and I stated before that he will use the technology he's gathered along with using that technology to create a groundbridge (so he's going to be sending people into the Shadowzone), a ship of his own, and Lazerbeak.

But just for fun, I'll throw in Hizuru as Soundwave blackmailing the continent. (In this timeline, Hizuru and Paradis have not made contact.)

With Soundwave's expert spying, he realizes that Marley and Paradis has joined forces, and knowing that will cause a derailment in his plans, needs extra support and fast. He went after the Middle Eastern Alliance and stole their technology because they were the ones who actively stood a chance against Marley's forces. They had the best technology, but because of his interference, the Middle Eastern Alliance are now turning on each other.

(He watches the shit go down as entertainment while Pieck is just mortified at it all.)

So Soundwave knows that he's going to need a temporary army until he can finish his machine to contact the Decepticons. Through his spying, he finds out about Hizuru shady deals and military advancements and decides that they are the best route.

He waits, spies on the locals, finds out more information about Ambassador Kiyomi, the Azumabito Clan, the Hizuru Royal Family, and the country's disdain for the royal family. He learns that the current one was placed there during the loss of the actual heir and the fall of the Eldian Empire. Taisho's father was despised, Taisho himself is hated, Kenshin is considered neutral, but...they all seem to adore Katsuko, the Emperor's wife.

So some OC background that I wanted to divulge in for Taisho and Katsuko since I have talked about Kenshin in the past. Taisho was around during the height of the Marleyan Empire and the scorn and ridicule of the Hizuru Empire. His father became corrupt due to his own dealings to try and get rich, instead of valuing the future of Hizuru. Taisho had constantly witnessed uncertainty, death threats, assault, everything. The only friend he had was Kiyomi, since she was already part of the Azumabito clan. Taisho and his father's relationship was terrible, abusive even. Taisho's only desire is just to survive in this ever changing world.

The only time Taisho was willing to risk it all and throw the crown away himself was because of Katsuko. Katsuko was definitely a low ranking member of society, but she is exceptionally brilliant and deeply compassionate to those around her. She fought tooth and nail to try and learn everything she could for a woman of her time and do her best to hold herself to a higher standard despite her status. One thing leads to another, and she and Taisho meet for the first time, and then continue to meet in secret.

And Taisho...feels safe with her. Initially, he thought she was there for an ulterior motive, but Katsuko never abused her knowledge of his identity or tried to take advantage of him like so many others. Taisho falls and he falls hard. People see Katsuko and Taisho together, and they don't like Taisho, but they adore Katsuko because of her kindness throughout the capital. Taisho's father does find out about this and immediately tries to destroy the relationship, but Taisho finds out and immediately threatens him: if he so much as lays a finger on her, he will never see Taisho again.

Taisho's father still tries, but the public love Katsuko, and his partners do see a benefit in gaining public approval. The father still disapproves, tries to make Katsuko's life in the temple a living hell. But Katsuko's been through worse and just keeps her head held high. This only furthers the kingdom's resentment of Taisho's father. Kiyomi ends up finding out about the father's attempt to downright assassinate Katsuko and stages a quiet coup. Using the diplomatic skills she's been training for, she convinces the other council members of the importance of removing the father and putting Taisho on the thrown immediately for the ultimate future of this nation. Most of them agree, since they've noticed his behavior is out of control. One day, Taisho discovers that his father died in his sleep. But Taisho's not stupid. His father was in perfect health and would've lived a long life with all the luxuries he had. Someone caused his death, and he had a gut feeling who.

"Do you resent me for it?" Kiyomi asked him that night.

Taisho crossed his arms and sighed. "You know how my father was. His love was only for money. Not for his country, not for his dead wife, not even me. I don't resent you for it, Kiyomi. You made a call to protect this nation. You'll make a good ambassador."

"I could turn on you, one day," Kiyomi warned, "If you do something that will ultimately destroy our nation."

"...I'm in your debt," Taisho declared, "If you decide I'm unfit to rule, do what you must."

Taisho doesn't shed tears as they bury his father, and he is made the new emperor without any objections. Katsuko asks him if he's alright, and...Taisho admits that he's terrified. He now has all this power, and he's afraid of who he'll become now that he has it. He doesn't want to be like his father. And Katsuko reminds him that he has the power to be whoever he wants to be. Taisho could have bent to his father's will, but never did so. That was more than enough proof that Taisho was better than him. Taisho is moved and downright asks Katsuko to marry her in that moment, if she doesn't hate him or what his father put her through. Katsuko laughs and says yes.

Now back to the main story. Soundwave knows about Katsuko's favoritism among the public, and decides she's the best way to get the army that he wants. So he kidnaps her, and forces Taisho's to give him an army or else she dies. Taisho's in a tight spot, the council and the public are in terror and disarray. Taisho can't let his wife die, but he now realizes that all the odd occurrences happening in other countries are happening because of Soundwave. Soundwave is the one causing them trouble. And Taisho makes a very calculated risk without knowing much about Soundwave. He tells Kiyomi and Kenshin to run and get help while he bent to Soundwave's command. Kiyomi understands the situation, but Kenshin is terrified and angry, lashing out at his father and calling him a coward!

"You're just going to let mom die?!" Kenshin demanded.

"I am buying my time!" Taisho declared in anger, "We don't have many options! That being has been dismantling governments in the shadows! If we are not careful, Hizuru is next!"

"Mom is our best chance at swaying the public-!"

"As long as she is in his clutches, I cannot take that risk and let her die!" Taisho yelled, "I am not going to lose your mother without a fight! You know that we are limited in options! You and Kiyomi getting help is our best chance at survival! So listen to your father for once and go with your aunt!"

"...Dad...I'm scared," Kenshin confessed, tears forming in his eyes.

Taisho felt his lips tremble before placing his hands on his son's cheeks. "My stubborn and prideful child, that is natural. This is not something we prepared for...In the event of my death and the death of the Empress, you will be crowned the next Emperor of Hizuru."

"Don't you fucking say that!" Kenshin yelled.

"You are the pride and the future of this nation," Taisho declared, "And I have never been more proud to call you my own."

Taisho wants to say that he's sorry for not being the best father and letting their relationship get so strained, but there's not enough time. Kiyomi and Kenshin need to go. Father and Son say their emotional goodbyes, and Taisho does his best to wipe his tears as Kiyomi and Kenshin flee to get help.

(More OC centric, but I've been meaning to talk about them.)

[kudosmyhero]

Transformers (vol. 1) #28: Mechanical Difficulties

Read Date: July 02, 2023 Cover Date: May 1987 ● Writer: Bob Budiansky ● Penciler: Don Perlin ● Inker: Ian Akin ◦ Brian Garvey ● Colorist: Nel Yomtov ● Letterer: Janice Chiang ● Editor: Don Daley ●

**HERE BE SPOILERS: Skip ahead to the fan art/podcast to avoid spoilers

Reactions As I Read: ● soldiers never fare very well in this series, do they ● is Goldbug different than Bumblebee? ● WHY ARE THEY CALLING HIM GOLDBUG

● the face is even totally different. gotta be a totally different Autobot…. right? ● 👏👏👏

Synopsis: The Mechanic has been using his high-tech weapons stolen from the Ark in order to boost himself up as an unstoppable super-criminal, taking full control of the stolen car rackets in the Oregon area. When he attempts to steal an airport radar airport security attempts to stop him but are no match for the laser scalpel and cryogenic sprayer he stole from Ratchet, and the Mechanic makes good his getaway.

Grimlock, the new leader of the Autobots, has tasked Goldbug and Blaster with trying to find the Mechanic and retrieve the stolen items. They are staking out areas of Portland when they two punks attempt to break into and steal Goldbug. When they attempt to do so, Goldbug prevents them every step of the way, leaving them to think the car is haunted sending them fleeing into the arms of the police who arrest them. Goldbug and Blaster return to the Ark to find that Grimlock is furious that they left the scene and didn't destroy any humans who interfered with them. With no satisfactory excuses, Grimlock orders them to wait while Wheeljack builds a device that will allow them to track the stolen devices.

While at the Portland Police Department, Detective Greico is given his next assignment: To take now Nester Forbes, AKA the Mechanic and smash his car stealing empire. While in an abandoned Portland factory, the Mechanic has been making a lucrative living not only stealing cars but modifying, maintaining and repairing vehicles owned by local criminals. When one mobster doesn't like the fifty thousand dollar price tag on his repair job, the Mechanic uses one of his high-tech devices to strip the car down to strip the car down to it's basic frame and uses his Power Booster Wrench to toss it and the mobster out of the factory and into a nearby stream.

Back at the Ark, Wheeljack manages to pinpoint the location of their stolen technology and Grimlock orders Blaster and Goldbug out to collect it. They arrive at on a country road and watch as the Mechanic attempts to steal a delivery truck carrying a powerful super-computer. When Blaster and Goldbug attempt to stop them, a police tactical team arrives and begins firing at will, giving the Mechanic and his partner Juan the diversion they need to get away. When Blaster attempts to stop them from taking the truck with his Electro-Scrambler, he's shot in the arm with a bazooka throwing off his shot. When they try to chase after the mechanic in Goldbug's vehicle mode, Detective Greico shoots out one of Goldbug's tires, necessitating them to pull over down the road so Blaster can change it, giving the Mechanic a clean getaway.

Back at his factory hideout, the Mechanic is meeting with the cities many crime bosses and offering them the chance of a lifetime: having their cars rigged up with weapons, making them deadly weapons. When Blaster and Goldbug arrive, Blaster stays behind as watch while Goldbug gets close to the factory and spies on them. As Goldbug radios what he sees to Blaster, he is unaware that Juan has patched into their radio frequency and is listening in. When the police arrive, Blaster reveals himself to them and shows that he means them no harm. He and Detective Greco agree to work together. Goldbug meanwhile attempts to snoop around and is captured by Juan.

Blaster and Grieco then burst in creating a diversion and signaling the other officers to storm the building. When Blaster transforms he uses his electro-scrambler on the cars causing them to go haywire and smash into each other. In the confusion, the Mechanic flees the scene and when Juan attempts to strip Goldbug, Grieco comes up behind him with a gun forcing him to stop.

Afterward, the police thank Goldbug and Blaster for their help, however, the two Autobots realize that Grimlock will not be happy. Deciding that they no longer wish to be commanded by a tyrant, Goldbug and Blaster defect and decide to strike it out on their own.

(https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Transformers_Vol_1_28)

Fan Art: Bumblebee Prime (Goldbug) by Diovega

Accompanying Podcasts: ● Transformers Chronicles - episode 28

● Transformers University - episode 93

[chyanxrene]

Valentine’s Day

♡ Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Y/N

♡ Summary: Y/N’s first Valentine’s Day with Draco Malfoy

♡ Warnings: Pure smut, food play, cum play, female/male receiving, some blood play

It was a normal Thursday morning for Y/N, same routine throughout the week. Wake up at 7am, get ready, go to work and come home. But there was one tiny difference about today, it was Valentine's Day.

Which was the first one she would celebrate with her boyfriend Draco. Despite having to go to work, she'd hope that they would celebrate after. So when Y/N opened her eyes in the morning, she was surprised to see that her boyfriend of less than a year had already left.

She knew they both didn't have enough time to celebrate in the morning, however she was disheartened to not wake up with a kiss, or at least goodbye.

Nether the less she rolled over onto Draco's side. His side was cold, which implied he had been gone for a while, she frowned, even if he did leave before she woke, his side would always be the slightest bit warm.

This wasn't the way she wanted to start her first Valentine's Day with the person she loved deeply. She sighed getting up and trudged to the bathroom to start her daily hygiene routine.

Perhaps there were flowers, maybe even chocolates in another room. However she was wrong again, her flat was normal, just like how it was left last night.

She was disappointed to say the least, she knew Draco wasn't the most romantic person in the world, but she expected something at least. After all, she did spend days searching for a ring that he would hopefully like.

Maybe he didn't celebrate Valentine's Day, she thought to herself. Still, she would wait until the evening to see him.

After she arrived to the ministry of magic, she made her way to her desk in the department of mysterious. She huffed, looking at her assignments for today, hopefully this would take her mind off the lack of celebration she had this morning.

"Y/N, look at these roses-" Pansy paused, looking at her friend who had a scowl on her face. "Are you alright?" she asked with a concerned voice.

Y/N glanced up, staring at the crimson roses in Pansy's hands, she turned green watching the bright smile plastered on her friends face.

"I'm fine— just busy," Y/N muttered, flicking through the paperwork on her desk.

"Oh— right— well look what Theo got me— he had them delivered to my desk," Pansy smiled, observing her gift.

Y/N began feeling sick, Pansy and Theo had only been dating for a couple of months and he had the decency to provide her with gifts even when she was at work.

"They're beautiful," Y/N mumbled under her breath, she watched as another set of flowers were delivered to the desk opposite her. Astoria Greengrass's desk to be precise.

"Wow— everyone is getting spoiled today!" Pansy laughed, watching the gifts get dropped off at the desk. She turned her gaze back to Y/N, who was noticeably paler.

"What did Draco get you— he spoils you all the time— I bet you woke up with showered in gifts," Pansy smirked, smelling the roses in front of her.

Y/N was too embarrassed to say she hadn't received anything, so she lied. "Yes, he bought me loads of gifts, I was quite spoiled you might say," she said, eyeing Astoria's presents.

"I knew it! Anyway, I'm going back to work— I'll catch up with you later," Pansy smiled, waving goodbye to her friend, she left Y/N's desk, practically skipping down the corridor.

Astoria arrived back from the bathroom and gasped immediately, a light blush fell on her face. This made Y/N even more upset, knowing Astoria never had a boyfriend for longer than a month, and now she had received these gifts.

She wanted to cry, but held a brave face, continuing on with her work. All the women in her department gushed over their gifts, speaking about their plans with their partners tonight.

All Y/N could do was listen and nod at some moments. It became too much for her, question after question asking what she had received. She hated lying, so she couldn't keep up with the charade anymore.

Draco's department was only a few floors up, usually they would have lunch together. So she would approach him when the time came, she didn't want to come across as jealous, or ungrateful. So she would wait for him to mention it first.

Pansy found her way to Y/N's desk again, a huge grin on her face. She looked over at Astoria's empty seat and laughed, "I wonder which man she caught in her web this month."

Y/N nodded, "must be someone who really likes her."

Y/N excused herself to meet with Draco, she was anxious to say the least. She had to be calculated on what she would say to him. After she reached his floor, she greeted a few of his coworkers.

She made her way to his office, about to open the door but it opened suddenly before she had the chance. Out walked Astoria who was giggling, Draco leaned against the door frame, laughing with her.

Y/N's heart sank, was this Astoria's secret man? Her own boyfriend Draco, she had never seen them speak before.

The two of them looked over at Y/N, slightly surprised by her presence.

"Y/N," Draco trailed, looking at Astoria who was holding in a laugh.

"I— never mind," Y/N whispered, walking back towards the lifts to take her down to her department.

Her heart was broken, Draco didn't even try and explain. Astoria didn't return to her desk after that, she didn't even want to go home tonight as she knew she would have to face Draco.

The day came to an end, she was dreading returning to her flat. Draco finished an hour later than Y/N, usually she would wait in his office for the extra hour so they could go back home together.

But today, she didn't care, she just wanted to cry in her bed and stuff her face with ice cream.

After she arrived back home, she sighed, the flat was empty. She flicked on the lights, to illuminate her dark lounge. She kicked off her shoes and strolled towards her bedroom, expecting it to be dark however there was a light coming from her room.

"Draco?" Y/N yelled out, she had her wand ready incase it were an intruder.

"In here darling," he responded, even though she was mad at him, and suspected foul play between himself and Astoria, her heart couldn't help but warm at his response.

She pushed open the door, gasping at the sight. There were rose petals covering the entire floor, a silver tray with strawberries, melted chocolate and more flowers.

Draco stood at the edge of the bed, a bouquet of red and black roses in his hands.

"Happy Valentine's Day my love," he smiled, stepping towards her.

"I— I thought you forgot— or didn't care," Y/N whispered, tears welled up in her eyes. She knew he wouldn't let her down in the end.

"How could I forget?"

He pulled a small black box from behind his back, holding it out towards her. Y/N frowned and opened the box, she gasped seeing the silver snake ring. She examined it, seeing the initials DM engraved at the side.

"It's lovely Draco," she smiled.

"Anything for you," he took the ring off her, and slid it on her index finger.

"The same as yours?" Y/N asked, looking at his fingers, he nodded, "of course."

Y/N closed the gap between them, his smell flooding her senses. He cupped her cheeks, pulling her face towards his, but he waited a moment before kissing her.

"I love you," he breathed against her lips, "but."

Y/N frowned, "but what."

"You've been a spoiled brat all day, did you think that went unnoticed?" He smirked, searching her eyes with his.

Her breath caught in her throat, then she began to realise that he had done this on purpose, he riled her up all day, just to get her in this position.

"I— I haven't Draco."

"Are you sure? Your little friends told me how miserable you were today— moping around like a child because you didn't get any gifts," he said, his grip tightened around her cheeks, forcing her mouth to open.

She shook her head in disagreement, how did he expect her to react, then again, she knew she should've put her trust in him.

"Isn't that right darling?" He said, licking his bottom lip to wet it.

Y/N nodded, she couldn't lie to him, he had eyes everywhere. And her friends were his secret spies— clearly.

He closed the gap between their faces, pushing his lips onto hers, his fingers still grasping ahold of her cheeks, forcing her to meet his aggressive kiss.

She moaned, feeling his tongue enter her mouth, swirling it around to taste her. He spun her around, backing her towards the bed until the backs of her knees hit the edge of it.

"Strip," he growled, releasing her face and taking a step back to observe his girlfriend.

She followed his command, removing her jacket first, followed by her shirt, and then her skirt. She was left in her bra and thong with her tights, she was about to remove her tights when he stopped her.

"Keep them on," he groaned, eyeing her legs through the sheer black material.

His fingers trailed up Y/N's thigh, right up to the waist band of the tights, he pulled it back and snapped it. She hissed at his action, the sharp pain shooting through her side.

Draco shoved her lightly, resulting in Y/N tumbling onto the bed, she shuffled backwards, her legs widening to allow space for him to rest in.

He crawled onto the bed, stalking her like she were is prey. His eyes were fierce, she new she was in trouble, just from the way he looked currently.

Y/N propped herself up onto her elbows, watching him approach her, both of her legs were either side of him.

"Draco," she whimpered, anticipating his touch.

He ignored her, grabbing the back of her hair, forcing her mouth onto his. His other hand gripped hold onto her neck, choking her effortlessly.

Her airways were restricted, Draco's lips sucked onto her tongue, a groan fell out of his mouth. Y/N hadn't seen his wand out until her wrists were suddenly bound above her head.

She peered up, breaking the kiss, Draco laughed still holding onto her throat.

"Relax."

Y/N nodded quickly, Draco kissed her again, this time sucking on her bottom lip, his teeth nipped the sensitive skin on her bottom lip. Drawing blood, Y/N tasted the metallic tang on her tongue, but didn't care.

Draco leaned up, staring down at Y/N, his two fingers reached out. Pinching the small wound on her lip, forcing the blood to come out. His thumb smeared the drop of blood across her bottom lip.

"Shit," he rasped, looking at her innocent eyes peering up at him.

He dove down licking and sucking her lips, he didn't want to take it too far tonight as it was a day for romance, but he couldn't help it.

When they first got together, she was a virgin, Draco almost came in his trousers when she told him. He wanted nothing more than to ruin her, and that's exactly what he done.

But she would always be innocent in his eyes, despite everything they done together in the bedroom— which made him love her more.

Y/N couldn't help but feel aroused by his actions, wetness from her pussy dampened her underwear. Making it uncomfortable, as well as her legs being widened by Draco's large body between them.

"You're beautiful," he smiled, leaning over and picking up a bright red strawberry.

Draco took a bite out of it, humming at the sweet taste, Y/N's breathing was heavy, she wanted to be the strawberry. A whine slipped her lips, causing Draco to smirk, "you want some darling?"

Y/N bit her lip and nodded, he put half of the strawberry down, and leaned over Y/N. Kissing her slowly— sensually, his mouth opened, but his tongue didn't enter hers, instead he pushed the slightly chewed strawberry into her mouth.

He pulled back, after giving her the fruit, Y/N swallowed the contents slowly. The sweet fruits mixed with his own mint saliva sent shivers down her spine.

"Please Draco," Y/N strained, wanting him to touch her already.

"Be patient— you haven't had an ounce of it all day, the least you could do is have some now," he growled, he leaned over to the tray beside them.

Two of his fingers scooped up the melted chocolate, he trailed it down her chest, the heat from the chocolate forced goosebumps along her skin.

He gripped her chin, forcing her head to the side, his mouth left wet, sloppy kisses along her neck. Focusing on her pulse point, the place that made her squirm.

A purple bruise formed where Draco had sucked, he leaned up smiling down at his work. The tip of his tongue dragged along her skin, collecting the chocolate on the way.

He reached her breasts, that were covered partially by the flimsy lace of her bra. He pulled it down, exposing the sensitive skin, Y/N gasped, the cold air making her nipples perk up.

Draco dipped his thumb in the chocolate, smearing it all over her nipple. He leaned his head down and sucked it, his mouth was warm in contrast to the cold air.

"More," Y/N whimpered, her arousal now leaking onto her thighs.

He bit her nipple at her words, his way of telling her to shut up. So she did, she knew better than to push him in this moment.

He kissed down towards her navel, closer and closer to where she wanted him most. Draco let out a breathy laugh, seeing her dampened red underwear.

Y/N thrusted her hips towards his face, but it was no luck. Draco forced her hips down by his hand, tutting at her actions.

"Don't test me Y/N— or I'll tie up your whole body so you can't move at all," Draco frowned, his hand reached between them and cupped her pussy.

He trailed his thumb down the centre of her pussy, through the tights and lace underwear before pushing hard on her clit.

"Your cunt is soaking my whole hand," he laughed, Y/N heard a tear, she looked down and saw that Draco had ripped a whole in the crotch of her tights.

With one swift motion he tore her underwear in the middle too, the snap of the material stinging Y/N's skin.

"I can't wait to taste you— I've been waiting all day for this," he said licking his lips, "please Draco," Y/N mumbled.

"My needy girl."

He kissed along her thigh, licking along the inner section, close to her pussy. Before he continued, he waited, waited for her to open her eyes and watch him.

"Open those eyes darling."

Y/N opened them quickly and watched him, his breath fanned over her pussy. He sucked on her clit, the tip of his tongue circling it before sucking it again.

One finger trailed up her pussy, collecting her arousal, he teased her hole, before pushing his middle finger knuckle deep inside of her.

Her pussy clenched around him instantly, a soft cry fell from her lips. He pumped it slowly— too slow for Y/N, she forgot what he had asked and pushed her pussy up to his face again.

He slapped the outside of her thigh, his head rose and shook, "I warned you," he muttered.

"No, I'm sorry Drac-"

But it was too late, her ankles were tied to either side of her bed, she was spread out for him. Just what he wanted all along.

"That's better," he smirked.

He pushed two fingers into her, curling them quickly, brushing against her g spot directly. His fingers were fast, thrusting in and out of her at a rapid speed.

Y/N felt her orgasm bubbling in her stomach, threatening to release if Draco continued, which he did. He stretched her with a third finger, curving them again.

The room was filled with wet sounds and heavy breathing, Y/N's arousal leaked over Draco's hands, her thighs were soaked, she was so close.

Draco latched his mouth onto her clit again, "you want to cum darling?"

"Y-yes," Y/N whined.

He pulled his fingers out quickly, looking at how they glistened with Y/N's arousal, "you'll cum when I say you can."

He grabbed another strawberry, trailing it down her stomach and then to her pussy. He ran the fruit up her slit, collecting the wetness from her cunt.

After he was satisfied with how covered the strawberry was, he dipped it into his mouth, sucking on it and then biting it.

He chewed it slowly, "delicious."

Y/N was struggling to breathe, the tight ropes that bound her limbs made it painful to move. But she couldn't help but squirm from his actions, she wanted— no needed him inside her.

He palmed his cock through his work trousers, and climbed over Y/N. He kneeled a over her face, biting his bottom lip at her wide eyes.

He pushed down his trousers, and then his boxers. His cock slapped against his stomach, the vein that ran along the side prominent. Thick beads of pre cum leaking from his tip.

Y/N licked her lips, bracing herself for what was to come.

"Open your mouth pretty girl," he ordered, stroking his cock.

Y/N opened her mouth quickly, he guided his tip towards her mouth, pushing the tip inside first. He groaned, feeling her warm mouth smother his sensitive tip.

He then pushed in further, halting as soon as his tip reached the back of her throat. Tears fell from her eyes, saliva already collecting at the corners of her mouth.

"Take all of me," he growled, he pulled out and pushed back in again slowly. Y/N moaned around his cock, feeling him stretch her ridged throat. The tip of her nose close to his abdomen.

He held her head keeping her in place, "good girl," he strained, he thrusted in and out slowly, each thrust made her choke around his cock.

Splatters of spit flew from her mouth, her mascara leaving black stains along her cheeks. He quickened his pace, still holding onto her head. His mouth was opened, eyes squeezed shut as Y/N hollowed her cheeks.

"Fuck, your mouth is too fucking good."

Y/N was turning red from the small amount of air she was receiving. But Draco knew this, so he pulled out before he came, he hovered over her for a moment, catching his breath.

He untied her wrists, keeping her ankles tied up. He left a quick peck on her mouth before lining his tip with her entrance.

He flicked his eyes onto hers, waiting to see if she was ready or if she needed a few more moments. But she nodded, eager to feel him inside of her.

Draco's thrusts were hard and powerful, his hands covered her waist, lifting her lower body off the bed. Y/N was moaning continuously, she couldn't form a proper sentence.

"God— you feel so good," Draco groaned, his finger tips digging into her waist with immense pressure.

Y/N could only hum in response, his thrusts were hard, his cock filling her to the brim, touching her every now and then cervix.

Draco pulled her hips to meet his thrusts, Y/N was overwhelmed, her eyes wet again from the brutal force.

He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her up to his chest, she held onto his neck as he continued to fuck her in the new position. Her ankles were sore from the tight rope around them, but she didn't care.

Draco breathed heavily against her neck, slowing his thrusts down, he leaned his head back and pressed a wet, sloppy kiss on her mouth.

"Oh fuck— Draco," Y/N cried, the new position made the tip of his cock stroke her g spot every time.

He gripped her chin, squeezing her mouth open, he gathered the spit in his mouth, spitting directly into her own.

"Take it— take it like the the good girl you are," he growled.

Y/N swallowed his spit, her head rested in the crook of his neck. Her nails dragging against his covered back, but Draco could still feel her sharp nails digging into his skin.

He laid her back down, his thrusts now deeper and slower. He brushed the wet hair from her face, kissing her forehead.

"Draco— I'm— oh God-"

"Go on then darling— cum around my cock— my pretty girl," he smiled.

Y/N's orgasm flooded through her, coating his entire cock in her cum. Draco felt her pussy tighten around him, which pushed him closer to his own high.

After a few more thrusts he pulled out— only just. Spurts of his cum covered her pussy, some of it reaching her lower stomach. He moaned her name as he stroked out the rest of his orgasm with his fist.

He sent her a lazy smile, kissing her gently. Another strawberry was now between his fingers, he sat on his calves and watched Y/N's cum mix with his own.

Two of his fingers dragged up her pussy, pushing their cum back inside of her. Y/N was sensitive, a whimper coming from her throat.

He raised the fingers to his mouth and sucked on them, humming around them.

The strawberry was now running along the areas in which he just came on. The bright red colour now dripping with his thick, white cum.

Draco looked at the strawberry, smirking at its new appearance, he quickly rushed it towards Y/N's lips, before any of it could drop off.

She parted her mouth, allowing Draco to place the strawberry into it up to the green of the fruit. Y/N clasped her teeth around it, biting the sweet fruit, she hummed at the new taste.

The sweet and salty taste delighted her taste buds, she couldn't help but moan.

"Oh— you liked that darling?" Draco grinned, removing the top of the strawberry and placing it beside him.

Y/N nodded, "yes Draco."

"Well," he said whilst looking at Y/N's nearly clean stomach and pussy, "there's plenty more where that came from."

Y/N laughed, slapping his arm weakly.

"Happy Valentine's Day Draco," Y/N smiled, pressing a kiss on his cheek.

"Happy Valentine's Day my love."

[vivilove-jonsa]

Hey for the prompt thing 'Dancing in the rain'. Also I love your work🥰

Thanks so much, Anon!

Here's a little Canon Divergent AU for you where Sansa leaves the Vale and winds up in Braavos before heading North :)

****

The plan was to take her from the Vale by ship into White Harbor. The plan, like so many others Sansa had known, has not worked out that way.

An autumn storm at sea brings her to the shores of Braavos, more drowned rat than girl. She has nothing of value save a dozen knights to assert her claim and the price on her head which will do her little good.

The men who had accompanied them find shelter though, a room for herself and Myranda upon an active square beside the busy canal.

“It’s temporary, ladies. Just until we can secure a ship with a captain we can trust.”

A fortnight passes in Braavos while Sansa Stark waits for the right ship to carry her home and hopefully lead an army, in name at least, to reclaim Winterfell and the North.

It rains here, day and night, it seems. Fog, rain, fog, rain and sometimes freezing rain. Autumn in Braavos.

One of the knights has been talking to some girl down by the harbor, a very clever girl named Cat, who speaks the Common Tongue and says she will find them the right ship for a fee. The name Cat brings her mother to mind and Sansa has asked to meet the girl but the men refuse saying the queen might have spies even here.

From her window, she waits and watches. What else is there to do? She cannot readily walk out among others, can she? Her hair is auburn once more. She’s so tired of waiting by windows like some princess locked in a tower though. She’s done more than her share of that in Kings Landing and later the Vale.

“We wait but now we’re only waiting to go to war. We can stand a bit more waiting, can’t we, my lady?” Myranda asks, her lilting tone raising Sansa’s spirits.

Sansa agrees, glad to have a friend by her side with what is to come, and returns to her watching.

There is only a gentle drizzle the evening when she first sees him.

A man of the Nights Watch, she would swear by his black cloak and clothes but surely not. Why would the Nights Watch send a sworn brother here? And isn’t his cloak quite tattered? It is only a black cloak like so many other common ones and he is just a man, no one to Sansa.

Still, she watches the stranger in the square beside the canal from her window seat as he makes his way through the sea of people. He seems to be seeking something or someone. His cloak hides part of his face but he is not an old man. His movements are too graceful and quick.

His eyes find hers, she’s nearly sure of it. His head tilts to the side and Sansa realizes that with night starting to fall and the lantern behind her, she is illuminated for him. Her hair must be quite noticeable if nothing else.

What prompts her to raise her hand and wave? She cannot say but she does.

He raises his hand as well and, by the light of the moon, she can just make out a sweetly puzzled smile. His eyes are still mostly in shadows but she decides then he is handsome.

But then, distracted by her, he bumps into another man and must beg pardon with a gesture. It will not do. The other man seems to be eager for a fight. The Braavosi love their swordplay, water dancing, they call it. Like dancing in the rain. No dance should be so deadly.

Shouts and drawn swords, the clash of steel from the other side of the glass has her covering her eyes. When the steel is silent once more, she looks. The man in black still stands while his opponent is being carried away by his friends.

He wipes off his sword with the hem of his tattered cloak, turns back to the window where Sansa sits…and bows to her.

Silly girl that she is, it makes her giddy when he does it, almost as if he was a knight fighting the other man for her favor. She nods in reply, thankful he cannot make out her blush in the meager lighting.

Six more nights, Sansa watches for the man from her window and every night he comes.

What is he looking for? Who does he seek? She makes up stories in her mind about it, about him.

And every night, when he spies her at her post, that wistful smile plays at his lips as she raises her hand to wave at him and he returns the gesture. Before he leaves the square, he always bows to her, a knight bowing to his lady. She sighs whenever he does it. She’s sure she could fall in love with her mysterious knight in black given half a chance.

But on the seventh night, he is not alone. She watches as a girl approaches him with dark hair. They clasp hands, speak and then embrace. They are clearly very dear to one another. It must be her he’s been seeking.

They are so busy holding on to one another that he never raises his eyes to find Sansa in her window. She’s left feeling most bereft over it and names herself a fool for wishing her knight would notice her. Of course, he is not her knight. She has knights waiting to ferry her across the Narrow Sea and back to her homeland and he is only a stranger.

If he loves that girl and is happy, Sansa will wish them well. She decides to close the curtains though. It hurts too much to make up stories of happy endings that can never be.

Word comes at last. A ship has been found. Cat of the Canals has come through with a trusted captain and her knights are all eager to sail off to Westeros and to war. Tomorrow, Sansa will leave her long watch of waiting behind.

“There’s a festival tonight, my lady,” Randa says, coming up with their supper from the kitchen.

“A festival?”

“Yes, down in the square there. People dancing, singing and drinking in the rain, the madness of it.”

Dancing in the rain.

She smiles at the thought until some sort of madness grips her, too.

Before anyone can stop her, Sansa slips out the door of her room, past her knights gaming in the tavern below and out into the square.

She draws a deep breath and expels it along with all the waiting she has done.

Couples in wet clothes dance and sing in the rain around her. They’re all so merry. The smell of spirits and bodies surrounds her but she does not care. She tilts her head back and tastes the rain on her tongue. She laughs and spins and wishes for a partner to dance with.

She is still laughing when someone touches her shoulder. She wonders if it might be her knight. Perhaps he was here dancing with his long, lost girl. Perhaps the girl would not begrudge him one dance with a stranger.

It is him but without his girl.

“You came down from your window.” His voice is gruff but sweet. He speaks the Common Tongue and sounds distinctly…Northern.

“I came down from my window,” she replies, too happy in this instant to think things through.

His hands find her waist. It’s very bold of him but she does not mind his touch. Carefully, she places her hands upon his shoulders. Do they dance now? Is he waiting for her to take the first step?

“I told Arya it couldn’t be you. I told Arya…it’s not that I’m not happy to see you. Of course, I am. I cannot believe it. I am so very happy. But I wanted you to be someone else because from the moment I first saw you, I…you’re so beautiful and I saw you there so many nights and…”

He ducks his chin as if he is embarrassed while her mind is busily catching up. Arya? Why is the stranger speaking of her long, lost sister? And he knows her! Is she in danger?! Is he one of the queen’s spies after all?!

Panicked, she starts to pull away. “I…please, don’t-”

“No, Sansa. Don’t be afraid.”

And it is then he pulls back the hood of his cloak to reveal himself. Her knight in black is none other than her half-brother, Jon Snow.

Joy explodes within her chest as they embrace. Jon is alive and here. Arya is alive and here somewhere. She is going home and they will come with her.

And yet…there is something inside her that feels like disappointment when she breathes in Jon’s scent and relishes the way his arms hold her so perfectly as they sway together in the rain in their happiness.

Why is that? she wonders...as if she does not know.

[justimajin]

Til Death Do Us Part ♜ Pt.9

➟ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

➟ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut

↳ (5.2k), Arranged Marriage AU

➟ Summary: If someone told you that you’d be marrying the Kim Namjoon, you would think you were being lied to, or worse, that you were hallucinating. However, fate seems to have it’s own ways of making the impossible possible and before you even know it, the title of Mrs. Kim is bestowed onto you. There’s just one problem: you’re not sure if Kim Namjoon is the person he says he is and the truth of your own identity is dangling by the strength of a mere thread.

➟ Warnings: 18+ rating, graphical descriptions of blood and violence, character death, things get a little steamy 👀

gif credit.

➟ Previous Parts: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

➟ Next Update: Tuesday, February 16

Your body lies on the bed, a blanket resting over you as if you were in the midst of a deep slumber. The normally coral hue to your skin has steadily vanished, lips chapped and dark circles already formed beneath your eyes. 

Namjoon paces the room frantically, his arms crossed and gaze never leaving your sleeping form. Seokjin stands in the corner, his eyes sparking in intrigue as Jimin rises from your side with a sigh. 

He shakes his head, as if caught up in disbelief himself. Peering up at Namjoon who immediately appears alert, he hesitantly speaks. 

“I think….I think Y/N’s been poisoned.” 

“What?” 

He gestures towards you, “The symptoms are all lining up….and it doesn’t seem like the normal kind.” He explains, “This one’s stronger, but slower. Like trying to kill someone as painfully as possible instead of just trying to get it over with.” 

Namjoon’s jaw tightens, brows furiously contorting. 

Seokjin shakes his head in dismay, “I guess torturing her wasn’t enough for them....” 

At the mention of your previous experience, Namjoon lets out a deep exhale and rubs his temples. He was ecstatic at finally locating, immediately wanting you to recuperate. 

But this, this just diminishes all the hopes he had with your recovery, tying his hands together completely. 

Seokjin makes brief eye contact with him and gestures him to follow after outside of the room, knowing that simply gazing at your sickly form wouldn’t allow his friend to think logically. 

Once the door closes, Seokjin doesn’t hesitate to indulge Namjoon in his thoughts. “We have to go back.” 

Before Namjoon can retaliate, he continues, “They’ve used a poison Jimin isn’t usually familiar with ‒ that means we’re dealing with something specific here and the one way to find a cure is to go back where the poison was found.” 

“An antidote.” Namjoon annunciates in realization, “It’s worth a try.” 

Seokjin hums, “I’ll go ask Jimin how much time we have.” 

Namjoon nods, continuing to pace around with knitted brows. Seokjin re-emerges after a moment, but the expression on his features isn’t one Namjoon was hoping for. 

“Three hours.” 

The alarming news simply aids to add more weight to Namjoon’s shoulders, but he knows that if there’s any chance in saving your life, he would take it within a heartbeat.

Seokjin keenly eyes him, and he knows exactly what he needs to do. 

***

Going back is on par with welcoming death and destruction towards his gates ‒ and it’s something that both he and Seokjin have the displeasure of facing. 

Seokjin bolts towards a wall, crouching down immediately to avoid the splinter of bullets flying over his head. 

“Is it just me or do they seem rather angrier this time around?” He playfully questions, cocking his gun and positioning it to fire back. A small smile curls on Namjoon’s lips at the latter’s sense of humour during such a dire time, yet he can’t help but counter on his own part. 

“I would be too if I broke in for a second time and made a mess out of their building.” He aims alongside Seokjin, shooting back with twice the force. 

“Well, if they happen to ruin this face of mine, I can’t promise that I won’t do anything.” He hurriedly rushes forward, getting into a more compromising but better position for him to fire back. 

Namjoon shakes his head, acknowledging that his partner was simply trying to ease up the tension augmenting in him, but the steadily growing numbers surrounding them counteract all of his intentions. Although he had trusted Jimin to look after you in hopes of a faster recovery, he can’t help but think how much his absence has rendered them in a disarray. 

Seokjin carefully heads forward with time, opting out to simply striking down the resistance rather than waste anymore of his precious bullets. Namjoon’s eyes light up in recognition when his actions form a clear pathway, and he doesn’t hesitate to sprint forward. 

“It was around here, no?” Seokjin mumbles as his eyes flicker around, exhausted beyond belief but content that the two of them made it through. Namjoon hums, the walls feeling familiar and the passageway striking a recollection from him. 

Together, him and Seokjin quickly thread through the hall and target the room where Namjoon had discovered your cell. Seokjin isn’t entirely sure if they can find something there, but he rather not leave any stone unturned in the midst of their presence in the area again. 

At the sound of rustling, Seokjin places a hand on his shoulder and steadies him back. 

Save for the empty cell in the corner and the bare room, a shadow is cast against the ground, bustling around the area. 

The two of them are in hiding, cautiously watching the burly man’s actions from a bird’s eye view. He suddenly pauses in his tracks, head snapping in their direction. 

His deep voice breaks the silence, “Who’s there?” 

Despite neither of them making a single peep, the man stands his ground, eyeing the corner. Seokjin eventually sighs, raising his gun and slowly coming out of the dark. 

Namjoon follows behind him and Seokjin’s stare is intent, prepared to seek out answers, “Y/N L/N. Do you know of her?” 

His eyes flicker, a gigantic grin spreading across his features, “One of the spies.” He utters right away, “You must be the Kim’s.” 

Seokjin keeps his gaze concentrated as he steps forward in intrigue, interested in their sudden appearance rather than blatantly disgusted. 

Once he stands a couple of metres across from them, a question slips from him, “Why are you here?” 

At that, Seokjin glances at Namjoon from the corner of his eye, holding back his words with the intent of being vague. 

He smirks, before a chuckle escapes him, morphing into a boisterous laugh. It startles the two of them as he lowers his head, the brutish smile not leaving once. 

“She’s dying, isn’t she?” He shakes his head in amusement, “I’m not very surprised, she was always the weakest out of us.” 

His lingering smile causes Namjoon’s pupils to flare, “You should be happy too, no? You’ve just gotten rid of one of our insects.” 

It’s like a sudden flash. One moment Seokjin is aiming his gun at this person with the intent of information in mind, the next Namjoon is pinning him against the wall, voice rough and spiking up. 

“My wife is dying, how could you possibly think I would be happy?!” 

“Namjoon.” 

He huffs, releasing the man immediately and stepping back. Seokjin glances at him in concern, before directing his piercing gaze to the individual that’s fallen onto the ground. 

“Where. is. the. antidote?” He grits out, only for him to laugh in retaliation. 

“As if I’ll ever tell you anything.” 

Seokjin’s eye twitches, “Then I have no use for you.” 

He fires without grimacing, scarlet splattering all over the ground. Stepping away, he gestures Namjoon to follow him. 

The latter stares at him in confusion when he begins surveying your cell, simply baffled at the way his friend paces around and examines the bars carefully. 

After a moment of contemplation, Namjoon speaks up, “What are you doing?” 

Seokjin doesn’t retort, choosing to instead crouch down and crawl into the cell himself. Reaching into the pocket of his suit’s jacket, he yanks out a vial and a swab, carefully rolling it over the ground where Namjoon had first discovered you. 

A sound of exhilaration leaves him, and Namjoon is still left staring in bewilderment as he rises to his feet and stares at the vile with a spark in his eyes. 

“It’s traces of the poison.” He clarifies, “Sure it’s mixed in with some blood, but I figured this would be enough for our chance at reproducing it and creating an antidote instead.” 

Namjoon’s mouth falls agape as Seokjin places the vile away safely with a soft smile. He shakes his head, a chuckle escaping through. 

“Seokjin, you genius.”

His friend sends him a knowing smile to counteract, and they begin to head out of the room, fully aware that they’ve found a potential source to a solution. However the alarming sound of voices results in them halting their steps, becoming one with the surrounding walls instead. 

If the two of them thought it was difficult getting into the building a second time around, there’s a sickening surprise waiting for them. 

Three, Seven, Twelve? Namjoon can’t even begin to count the individuals practically pouring into the room, eyes snapping up to meet Seokjin’s which are also twisted up in disbelief. The thought of trying to get past them barely comes across as a suggestion, but when Seokjin’s eyes glimmer for the briefest of seconds, Namjoon knows there’s only one simple way to counteract. 

Keeping a firm hold on his gun, he leaps for the opportunity when Seokjin begins to sprint. 

Their sudden movement and sound alerts the ears of the dwellers, voices spiking up and heavy footsteps beginning to grow in volume. From the split second that bullets start to fire, the two of them quickly take cover. 

Seokjin heaves, “If I end up dying here today, can you promise me that you and Y/N will name your first child after me?” 

Namjoon takes out his gun, staring at the former perplexed, “Don’t be in such a hurry to plan your own funeral.” He narrows his eyes, attempting to focus on the mass of individuals heading in their direction. 

The question lingers in his mind, making him shake his head. “And what makes you so sure it’ll be a boy?” 

Seokjin shrugs, “If it’s a girl you can still name her after me.” 

Namjoon continues to stare at him flabbergasted, but once the sound of a gun firing hits his ears, he swivels around. 

“Nevermind that, we have company.” Raising his gun, he begins to rapidly fire the weapon as Seokjin does the same, but nonetheless it seems like their efforts are futile from the steadily growing numbers. 

“What do you say?” Namjoon asks in amusement, cocking his head in their direction. 

Seokjin simply smirks in response, before leaving his cover and grabbing the first person he sees. His knee rams into their head, their form slumping onto the ground as he raises his gun at another, shooting them instantly. 

Namjoon soon follows through, aiding him by using as much physical force as possible. However in the midst of the chaos, Seokjin is slammed against a wall, immediately wincing in pain. 

He pushes the individual away, but there’s an angry blotch of red beginning to seep from his suit’s jacket, and that’s when he hears the faintest of clinks resonates against the ground. 

Seokjin’s eyes threaten to pop out of their sockets, a familiar vile with a broken cap landing onto the ground and rolling about. He attempts to swiftly retrieve it right away, but before he has a chance to do so or to inform Namjoon, the man that threw him against the wall slams his foot down with a huge grin. 

“NO!” He curses, resulting in Namjoon whipping his head around in concern, only to see remains of the poison split on the ground. He isn’t even given a chance to think of  a way back to possibly retrieve more, two hands grabbing onto his jacket and threatening to rearrange his perfectly sculpted face. 

Gritting his teeth as he takes his gun out, he doesn’t even hesitate to fire as Namjoon hurriedly dashes over. 

“We have to collect the poison again somehow.” He continues to shoot, mumbling his words as defeat runs through him, “There has to be a way.” 

Seokjin doesn’t get a chance to respond, “You’ll be better off in just letting her die.” 

Namjoon swivels at the sound of the voice, the man grinning. In fact, the closer he looks, the more he can see the exhilaration surfacing on other faces. 

The same man speaks, words becoming more venomous, “We’ll have finally gotten rid of that leech once and for all.” 

Namjoon is truly speechless. Here he was, desperate to find an antidote, lingering drops from splotches of the poison, anything possible that would allow you to continue breathing ‒ all in the midst of being surrounded by individuals you would consider to be a part of your family. 

There’s not even a single morsel of concern in the people in front of him. 

“H-How…” He mumbles, eyes blinking in disbelief, “How can you be so happy to kill a member of your own family?” 

“She was compromised.” The man spits out, as if it should be enough of a justification for their horrid actions, “She deserves to have death invited at her doorstep.” 

It’s simply unfathomable what overcomes Namjoon in that single second, be it anguish, fury, or even disgust at how deep your vengeance and hatred for each other’s families runs. 

He despises how much of a tool you really are, and with how strikingly parallel your routes are, like two sides of the same coin. 

Unable to describe what consumes him in that moment, he ultimately decides it would be best for his actions to speak for themself instead. Seokjin blinks at the abrupt surge of strength he suddenly displays, but opts out in aiding his friend instead of questioning it. 

Namjoon doesn’t remember how many times he’s grimaced or had a wave of pain jolt through his body, his partner having to forcefully drag him away for an escape instead of continuing to fight back. He chooses to follow, fully aware that any moment longer was a minute away from you surviving through the day. 

Although Seokjin races at the prospect of obtaining more of the poison, Namjoon is unsure if it would be enough, if the destroyed remains of the vile he had previously collected was the last of what could have potentially saved you. It sends him into a state of distraught, failure probing into his mind as he slows down.

A feeble arm suddenly shoots out, grasping onto his shoulder and abruptly whisking him into a room. The door is slammed shut and Namjoon blinks, remaining vigilant as tension floods through his form.

The bleak room is completely silent, save for the middle-aged man that quickly turns away from him and begins to rummage through a row of shelves in the corner.

Namjoon’s hand threateningly lingers on his gun, irises locked onto and scrutinizing every action of the man before him. He continues to peer around before Namjoon, searching as if he had lost something. 

His frail hands wrap around a small bottle, carefully inspecting it before he turns. There’s a soft smile curved at the corners of his lips, eyes kind and inviting. 

Namjoon can only stare in puzzlement as the man reaches out for his hand, gently tightening his own fingers around the bottle. He peers up, smile reaching his crinkling eyes as he lightly pats Namjoon’s hand. 

“Take care of her.” He quietly says and that’s when Namjoon’s orbs are darting all over the man’s features. His soft smile, the kind eyes, the way his presence is not hostile nor hateful, simply silent and tender in its presence.

The similarity is striking the more he thinks about it, mind flashing back to the day you became husband and wife. His memory finally allows him to distinctly remember the identity of the man, the very person who had gently brought you down the aisle and the same presence that faithfully watched over you as you agreed to the priest’s vows. 

His hand tightens around the bottle and he firmly nods, noticing a sense of deep relief that fills the elder’s eyes. 

He jolts as the door strikes open, a fumbling and clearly fatigued Seokjin glancing around. At the sight of the man close to Namjoon, he instantly rushes forward, but is stopped when his friend raises a hand in front of him. 

“Let’s go.” 

Seokjin stares at him baffled but when Namjoon raises his hand and showcases the bottle he holds, his eyes light up in recognition and he nods. 

In the process of escaping, Namjoon turns back for the briefest of movements, a faint glimmer of water appearing in the elder man’s eyes. 

Jimin instantly scrambles to his feet. 

“What happened?” 

Seokjin simply shakes his head, fully aware of his own disarranged appearance that involves his jacket splotched with red and teared into shambles. Namjoon is within a similar state, and although Jimin is previously accustomed to the sight, his eyes can’t help but linger at how utterly exhausted and battered the two individuals before him look. 

Namjoon’s orbs hold a glint with them, eyes eagerly darting around to catch a glimpse of the bed you were situated on. A grimace runs through Jimin, and he shifts, revealing the view of your deteriorating state behind him. 

Your skin appears as if someone drained all the life out of you. Instead of the parched appearance you had before, this time sweat has collected against your forehead and lashes, the sight of twisted veins beginning to steadily form against your neck and forearms. 

Namjoon harshly inhales, pupils frantically darting all over you. Jimin is rendered silent, unsure if there’s anything he can say that would aid the former. 

Seokjin beats him to it, showcasing the bottle in hands that has Jimin’s brows perking up. He immediately snatches it, exiting the room within seconds. 

Namjoon collapses onto a chair near your beside, shoulders deflating with defeat. Seokjin walks over and stands by him, gaze raking over the way you continue to let out shallow breaths, colour rapidly depleting from your skin. 

A moment of silence passes by in wait of Jimin’s return, but every minute feels too drawn out, as if time was growing stall and running out of patience. 

You let out a small cough and Namjoon’s head snaps up, rising from the chair. 

Seeming harmless at first, it morphs into a wheeze, as if you were struggling to breath. Namjoon is deduced to simply watching as your chest heaves, unable to do anything. 

Seokjin disappears from the room in search of Jimin, but as he returns, he’s astounded to see his friend’s eyes glossed over right before he turns away. 

The two of them exchange a look before Jimin hastily advances forward, crouching by your bedside and administering whatever he could conjure within the short time person via a syringe. Seokjin aids him by constricting your movements so as to not make the process difficult, but the effects on your body don’t seem to fade even as the antidote makes its way through your system. 

Seokjin turns around with a sigh, placing a comforting hand on Namjoon’s downturned posture. His back is still facing you, his forehead scrunched in his hands as his shoulders shake the slightest. 

As the three of them helplessly stand and pace around the room, a large inhale suddenly slips from your lips and captures everyone’s attention, the slightest tinge of pink beginning to gradually spread over your skin. 

You gaze into the mirror, one hand raising up to gather your dangling locks while the other searches around for a pin. The small token of metal falls within your gasps and you carefully fasten it in, tucking them behind. 

It compliments the ruby red gown you're wearing, the material silky to touch and dropping down to cascade into a long train that spreads onto the ground. It’s paired with your hair briefly tossed into a part, a faint glow of purple sitting at the base of your throat. 

Your hands come to rest by your side, stare roaming around the image that is reflected back at you until you catch sight of the corner, noticing a pair of eyes with crossed arms and furrowed brows watching your every single gesture. 

A small smile cracks on your lips, and you’re already aware of the words he’s aching to spew. 

“You should really be resting.”  

You resume fiddling around with your dress, ensuring it was secure enough. “You already know my answer to that.” 

Namjoon deeply sighs, pushing himself off the wall and striding over to you. You can tell he’s tired of simply observing you, watching for the hints of your skin paling or for a cough to suddenly break out of you in between your reassuring and coaxing words. 

Although you can understand his genuine concern, news of coming across the person that wanted Namjoon dead at a mass banquet reigned heavier on you. You hadn’t hesitated to prepare yourself for the occasion, knowing that it would be a difficult task to have something escape by your perceptive eyes. 

But Namjoon can’t admit defeat, frantically circling around you near the mirror on the table. You immediately swivel around, eyes coming into contact with his right away. 

His hands rest against the edge on either side of you, leaning against your form. 

“What if you feel unwell?” 

You can’t stop the earnest smile that tugs at the corner of your lips, hand reaching out to softly rest against his cheek. 

“We need to figure out what’s going on and I’m not going to let you do that alone.” 

Namjoon’s shoulders slump down and even though you understand to a certain degree, just solely based on how you can still  feel fatigue beneath your lids and your limbs aching despite being able to walk, the thought of encountering the person that nearly tried to kill your husband alongside you is frightening enough on it’s own. 

He shakes his head, an exhale leaving him in defeat. As you laugh at the gesture, his amused eyes snap up to meet yours. 

The laughter suddenly diminishes, hand slowly dropping down the longer your eyes stay connected. There’s a weight in his gaze you recall seeing before, the memory of having him close abruptly arising in your mind and spreading a sweltering tinge of heat to your skin. 

You can tell that his mind is swimming with the same thought, irises darting down to your lips for the briefest of moments. Your body moves on it’s own, his lips hovering so closely that you can feel his warmth breath against your skin. 

Your eyes flutter shut. 

“We know who’s running the gathering! I couldn’t believe tha‒” 

Jimin’s voice dies out as you and Namjoon break apart in an instant. There’s still a rapid hue of red radiating from your skin and Namjoon sheepishly stares at the ground, seemingly pretending that he's just simply standing next to you prior to the intrusion. 

Jimin glances back and forth perplexed between the two of you as Seokjin shows up from behind him. 

“Did I interrupt something…?” 

“N-No!” You clear your throat immediately, waving your hands, “Y-You were saying…?

He stares back at you almost as if not fully convinced and Seokjin quirks up an amused brow at Namjoon, who has decided that staring at the ground while cursing underneath his breath is the right mode of action. 

“Uh, well, as I was saying…” Jimin carefully says, noticing both Namjoon’s and your own attentive eyes shifting back to him, “We managed to figure out the identity of the person leading this gathering, and it’s someone you know very well.” 

Namjoon tilts his head to the side and Seokjin slips him a photograph, his eyes widening. 

“Hoseok?” 

Jimin hums, “Apparently, he’s been keeping a low profile after Taehyung’s demise and associating with lesser known parties from your company, including the man that was after you.” 

Seokjin hands him a picture of the man’s corpse, the very person you had shot, being seen conversing with Hoseok prior to the incident. 

Namjoon peers around at the information with a scoff, glancing up at Jimin, “So you’re thinking that if we can find him, he’ll be able to provide us some answers.” 

“More or less, but perhaps in a nicer way.” Jimin innocently grins, assuming that the shareholder will be kind enough to talk without any added persuasion. 

Namjoon nods as Seokjin collects the evidence, carefully storing it away. Taking your hand, the four of you prepare to infiltrate the banquet. 

***

It’s surprising grandiose for what was proposed as a quick get together. 

A chandelier hangs low from the ceiling, illuminating conversing faces and greeting guests with the faintest of glows. There’s faces among the small groups that you don’t recognize right away, understanding the assumption Jimin gave that many of the individuals present are ones part of the business, but never indulged with outside of the company. It makes all of you on alert, patiently waiting for the man of the hour that has seemed to create an audience without their knowledge. 

As your eyes roam around the crowd with intrigue, you’re taken aback for a moment. There is indeed unfamiliarity with the presence of those around you, but somehow the situation reminds you of the time you were first wedded to Namjoon, innocently presented as his wife to gawking eyes despite the fact that your own were scrutinizing their every trait. 

Your eyes do continue to wander about in search of a person by your husband’s side, but at the same time, it’s different. 

Your eyes glance over at Namjoon, who stands beside you as your hand is looped around his arm, not a single drop of naivety in his expression. 

Eyes firmly set in stone, his jaw is tightened as his sharp gaze is on the brink of memorizing every single individual’s face.

A smile unknowingly rises on your lips, and when your hold on him tightens, Namjoon jostles and diverts his attention to you.

In an instant, his features soften, eyes gazing at you curiously. “Is something wrong?” 

You hastily shake your head, “I was just remembering the gathering we attended after our marriage.” 

A line draws in between his brows until a glimmer of light flickers, a breathtaking smile rising on his lips. 

“When I introduced you to members in my company.” You nod as his eyes scan his surroundings, slowly comprehending the connection you’ve made. 

He diverts his attention to you again, “Were you...nervous? From meeting all those people?” 

“A little.” You admit, “I already knew who they all were and the stories behind their backgrounds.” 

Namjoon hums, “I was mainly occupied with digging up information in those moments...” 

“Did you feel nervous around me?” 

“Um, not quite.” A chuckle leaves your lips and Namjoon’s eyes light up at the sound, curiously gazing at you, “I think to say, I was very taken aback when the heir to the Kim empire had a set of indoor plants he was tending to…” 

A flush creeps onto Namjoon and the laughter slips out of you, raising your hand to cover your mouth. He eventually laughs with you, sheepishly shaking his head in embarrassment. 

“It seems like I left quite the impression on you.” 

He eyes you with a smile and you return it, sight landing back on the crowds of people immersed in conversation. There still isn’t any visibility of the Hoseok and with that, you slump down with a wistful sigh. 

“You know,” Namjoon’s deep voice beckons you, “You look very beautiful tonight.” 

Your eyes widen and you realize his stare is fixated on the jewel that sits on your neck before his eyes flicker up, meeting yours with a tender smile on his lips. 

Despite knowing that Namjoon doesn’t shy away from giving compliments, there’s a heat that spreads over your skin as you abruptly grow bashful. However the moment you connect your gaze with his once again, your breath hitches in your throat. 

There’s something brewing beneath his lids, his gaze feeling heavier than before. You can’t seem to look away, left wondering if he can see it reflected in your eyes. 

You bite down on your bottom lip, a gesture his eyes are quick to follow with. His breathing becomes laboured and you can’t seem to recall if you were the one that shifted closer, but the moment Namjoon flutters his eyes shut and presses forward, there’s no hesitation on your part. 

His lips collide with your own and you have to stifle back the moan that threatens to escape from you. In an instant, his hands are circling around your waist, one of them lifting up to firmly hold the nape of your neck in place. His kisses are a mixture of desperate yet passionate, clouding your mind into a complete daze. 

You’re no longer able to contain the carnal urge that bubbles up, a soft sigh managing to leave your lips. Namjoon abruptly breaks apart from you, his chest heaving. 

Your hand is suddenly grasped as you’re being roughly tugged away, head still swirling with heat. You’re only given the opportunity to register the sound of a door opening before being promptly slammed shut, your back falling right against the cold wood. 

Within seconds, Namjoon’s lips are crashing against yours and this time you have no courtesy holding back the wanton moans that tumble from your mouth. Namjoon hungrily presses against you as your hands loop against his neck, kissing him back with just as much desperation. 

His insatiable hands are roaming down your waist, the heat of his palms ghosting over your thighs. A gasp leaves your lips when he suddenly grunts and lifts you up, your fingers attempting to find secure purchase around his neck before you can topple over. 

His lips are molding against yours in no time, his tongue slipping in with no reservations. You welcome the muscle into the heat of your caverns, mouths nearly battling against each other as if engaged within a ruthless warfare. 

His mouth abruptly breaks apart from you, and before you have the chance to complain from the loss of contact, the scorching heat of his breath is washing over the skin of your neck. Your eyes lull back, your bottom lip becoming battered from your merciless biting. He unexpectedly suckles the juncture behind your ear, drawing out a breathy whine out from you. 

A loud blare bursts through the room, and on the third ring, you tumble into Namjoon’s arms as he reluctantly places you down. 

Namjoon yanks his phone out, his chest rising and falling as if he has been running through a marathon. 

“What?” 

The sharpness in his voice has your eyes peering upwards, attempting to catch your breath. 

“What?” Namjoon suddenly says again, “He’s here?” 

It’s transparent to you ‒ the way Namjoon is failing at steading his breath, eyes having taken upon a carnal appearance, but how he’s trying to think straight, desire-stricken eyes frantically darting around. 

For some reason, it stirs up a painful ache in the pit of your stomach. 

“Okay.” His voice sounds clearer now, accompanied with a hum, “Keep an eye on him, we’re coming.” 

The line is cut off and Namjoon reaches his hand out for you, but it’s hard to ignore the way his eyes can’t seem to leave your form. 

“Y/N?” He breathes out and your daze snaps, grasping onto him. 

The door widens and you hurriedly rush out together. 

[heyitssmiller]

Clandestine: Chapter Four

The espionage boys go to Slytherin. Chaos ensues.

Content Warning: Some violence towards the end.

@lumosinlove

Clandestine Masterlist

.

Finn reached over the center console of the car to grab some M&Ms from the bag in Logan’s lap. Logan slapped his hand away playfully, not taking his eyes off the Slytherin police station they were parked down the road from. “Why don’t you eat your own snacks?”

“They’re salty and I wanted something sweet.” Finn said with a shrug, popping one of the candies into his mouth and grinning.

Leo sighed from the backseat, letting his head rest against the window with a thunk. He stared out at the full moon as a lonely cloud passed in front of it, moving fast. It was the most interesting thing he’d seen all night. “Why didn’t y’all tell me stakeouts were so boring? This is horrible.”

“But we’ve learned so much already!”

Finn got an arched blond eyebrow in response. “Have we?”

“We’re downtown, so we’re going to have to be extra careful about being seen. Shift change is at 6 pm, so we need to avoid that time frame as much as we can. There’s fewer people on the night shift, so our best bet is to wait until nighttime.” Logan rattled off, still not looking away from the building. “There’s a side door on the west side of the building, so that’ll be your best bet when you need to break in. I can see at least one security camera there, so Loops is going to need to help you out.”

Finn motioned to Logan dramatically. “That’s how you do it, Peanut Butter. Take notes.”

“I had lots of practice, keeping an eye out while you guys were off being bank robbers.” Logan grumbled good-naturedly, grabbing an M&M for himself.

Finn hummed thoughtfully. “Robbers is a bad way of putting it, don’t you think? You make us sound so evil.” 

“I mean, you’re also technically an arsonist.”

“That was one time. And the other bank heist went off without a hitch.”

“Still doesn’t change the fact that you set a trash can on fire.” Leo piped up, giving Logan a high-five when he held his hand out.

“I knew I liked you for a reason, Nut.”

Leo really tried his best not to read into that statement. He grabbed the small lock in his pocket and fidgeted with the dial to distract himself. He didn’t mean it like Leo thought he did. Like he wanted him to. Besides, that would be so complicated, wouldn’t it? Being a spy was messy in and of itself. Dating two other spies - who were his partners - would be a whole other level of chaos.

But that didn’t make him want it any less.

Which was also ridiculous. He’d known them for, what? Maybe a month? Why did his heart always decide to move at such breakneck speeds? 

“Do you two have to always gang up on me?” Finn asked with a sigh, snapping Leo back out of his thoughts. “What did I ever do to deserve it?”

“Don’t take it personal, O’Hara. You’re just so fun to tease.” Finn threw a barbecue-flavored chip at Logan, causing him to laugh and eat it.

“How long do stakeouts usually last?” Leo asked, desperate to change the subject to something - anything - less hazardous for his heart. 

“Until we have all the information we need.”

“And how do we know when that is?”

Logan shrugged. “Depends on the case. I’d like to stay and see when the next shift change is, just to be safe.”

Leo groaned and settled back in to wait.

***

“So how are we doing this?” Finn asked the next morning as they all sat around the table in the briefing room, propping his chin in his hand. “Sneak Leo in through an air vent? Although you might be too tall for that, Nut. Blow a hole in the wall and steal the whole safe? Create a story like the bank heists?”

“It’ll have to be a distraction again.” Sirius said, looking to Loops for confirmation. “The longer we can fly under Riddle’s radar, the better. The other four drives are on Riddle, in his office, or with trusted gang members. If he starts getting suspicious now, he’ll go on lockdown and we don’t stand a chance at getting the rest of the drives.”

“He’s right.” Remus agreed. “Plus there’s way too many officers in the precinct at any given time. Since the safe is in the evidence room, we can’t risk anyone coming in there and catching Leo red-handed – they’d shoot you on sight, no questions asked.”

Logan watched the color drain from Leo’s face and turned to send Remus a glare. Of course this job was risky – if you didn’t think so, you were a naïve idiot. Getting caught or shot or killed was just a part of the job and as a spy, you had to learn to live with that. But that didn’t mean you had to scare rookies about it right before a big, high-risk mission.

Remus noticed his glare, but simply ignored it and looked away. “Here’s what I’m thinking. There’s another, smaller gang in Slytherin, right?” At Sirius’ nod, he continued. “If we can place an anonymous tip on their location, that all but guarantees a full holding cell inside the precinct. Plus it gets another gang off the streets, so it’s a win-win. Logan, if you can get yourself arrested for something small – public indecency or drunken disorderly or something – you’ll be put in that holding cell too.”

Logan leaned forwards, excitement coursing through him. “I like where this is going.”

“I don’t.” Finn stated plainly. It was his turn to glare at Loops.

“If you can start a fight in there, you can get a majority of the officers’ attentions. Especially if it’s at night when the staff is smaller and more likely to be tired. Leo can slip in the side door unnoticed, get into the evidence room, grab the flash drive, and get out.” Remus raked a hand through his hair, looking thoughtful. “It’s more complicated than the banks, but it should work just fine.”

“That’s the plan?” Leo asked dubiously. “Try to start a riot in a holding cell, hope that all the officers get distracted, steal the flash drive, and then just wait for Logan to be released in the morning? There’s so many things that could go wrong.”

He was right - there was a lot riding on nothing but chance. Sadly, that was part of the territory of working in espionage; it was one of the only things the James Bond movies got right. You had to take risks in order to get results sometimes. Leo’s job was all about planning and precision. He knew exactly how to execute his mission and there usually weren’t any hiccups as long as he had the right tools with him and enough time. Not much risk-taking involved in cracking safes. So he’d probably never been a part of a plan with so many aspects up in the air.

He’d also never seen Logan in action.

“Never doubt my ability to start a fight.” Logan said with a grin. “Man, I’m so excited to go on a mission where I’m not stuck in the car.”

“I want to go with you.�� Finn said firmly, leaving no room for argument. His gaze was fierce and determined and if Logan didn’t know him already, he’d probably be just a little bit scared. It was kind of hot. “I don’t like you being in there by yourself.”

Remus looked at him, clearly surprised. “I thought you didn’t like fights.”

“I don’t. But I’m not leaving my partner in there to fend for himself. Hell no.”

Logan ignored the way his heart sped up and asked, “You don’t want to go with Leo? Be a lookout?”

“Normally I’d say yes, but if someone does end up seeing him, one person raises less suspicion than two.” Finn said with a shrug. “It’ll also be easier to start a fight with two people.”

“If you’re getting arrested in Slytherin, you’ll need disguises.” Remus said, looking the cubs over. “They’ll take mugshots of you at the station. We can’t risk it.”

“Ok, so who do we go to for that?”

“Ooh!” Leo piped up with a happy, unfairly adorable smile. “I actually know this one!”

***

When they entered the disguise office the following day a woman with long, blonde hair looked up at them from a rapidly moving sewing machine. Finn feared for her fingers as they inched closer to the bobbing needle, but she barely batted an eye as she took her foot off the pedal and smiled in delight when she spotted Leo. “Nutty! How’s it going?”

Leo smiled back and gave her a warm hug. He looked like he gave good hugs, Finn thought. All tall and long-limbed like that. “Hey, Nat. Good to see you.”

“Kasey told me you’re on a mission. Look at you, all official and taking down the Snakes!” She stood on her tiptoes to ruffle his hair. “So grown up!”

“Stop.” Leo laughed, taking a step back and dodging her hand. “Y’all treat me like I’m twelve.” He seemed to remember Logan and Finn were with him and his cheeks turned red as he looked over at them. “Uh, guys this is Natalie. Nat, these are my partners Finn and Logan.”

“Nice to meet you boys.” She said, shaking both their hands. “So you’re here for disguises?”

Finn nodded, then started explaining the premise of their op, watching Natalie a bit nervously as she looked him over thoroughly. It was a bit unnerving, even when he knew it was just to get a good idea of what she needed to do for a disguise. Her gaze was calculating, like she could figure out everything about them with a single look.

Maybe she could.

Finally, she spoke up. “We’ll have to change that hair. How do you feel about wash-out hair dye? Normally I’d just give you a wig, but if you’re getting in a fight it could get pulled off. And you.” She turned to Logan, taking a second to look him over. “I have so many ideas for you. I have a feeling you’re going to love it. Oh, and Nut?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve got a cop uniform that should fit you.”

He bit back disappointment. Finn was dyeing his hair, (which was a bit of a tragedy, really – Leo thought his hair was really pretty, especially out in the sun) Logan was doing who knows what, and all Leo got was a uniform? “Oh. Ok.” He looked over at his partners. “I’ll meet you back in the bullpen?”

“Sounds good.” Logan responded. As soon as Leo closed the door behind him, Natalie faced Logan again with a wicked smile.

“How do you feel about tattoos?”

***

Logan and Finn found Leo having a staring contest with a small, god-awful painted eagle paperweight on Finn’s desk.

“I see you’ve met Brad!” Finn said happily, giving the eagle a pat on the head and startling Leo in the process. He seemed to jump a foot in the air before he realized Finn wasn’t a threat.

“I’m pretty sure it’s haunted.” Leo said, looking away from it slowly. Those beady little eyes seemed like they were staring into his soul and finding it wanting. “I’m from New Orleans, I can tell- holy shit.” He said when he caught sight of his partners.

Finn’s hair was dark brown, his freckles tragically hidden from view. Natalie had also done some makeup magic to accentuate different lines of his face, changing his profile and making him barely recognizable. Logan’s hair was now a dirty blonde. Both of his arms and one collarbone were littered with dark, swooping ink in varying different shapes and patterns. They were both wearing more casual clothes than Leo had ever seen them in, looking soft and comfy instead of like polished, professional spies.

“If I wasn’t expecting it, I’m not sure I could recognize you.” Leo said slowly, trying to get his brain back up and running as he gently grabbed one of Logan’s arms and turned it this way and that, looking at the tattoos in awe. They looked so real.

Logan grinned. “Yeah, Nat’s a pro.” He followed Leo’s gaze down at his fake tattoos wistfully. “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t a spy, just so I could get tattoos.” He couldn’t have anything about him be easy to recognize as a covert operative – it would make him too easy to track down and get compromised. Tattoos unfortunately fell into that category. His eyes landed on the eagle paperweight Leo was staring down earlier. He laughed. “O’Hara, what the fuck is that?”

“It’s Brad! My brother is a spy, too – works out of Tampa. When I joined, we created this competition: whoever brought in the most criminals in a year got to keep Brad on their desk.” Finn preened, looking fondly at the creepy eagle. “Yours truly has the honor this year.”

Leo glared at it mistrustfully. “That thing needs to be burned. Or I could smoke it out with sage for you. I’ve got some from Marie Laveau’s House of Voodoo back home. That’ll get rid of the spirit for sure.”

Finn gasped in horror. “How dare you? Brad is a treasure and deserves to be protected at all costs.”

“I strongly disagree.”

“It is not haunted, it’s a symbol of being a winner-”

“As much as I’m loving this conversation,” Logan interrupted, looking amusedly between his partners. “We should probably get going if we want to get to Slytherin in time. Loops already placed the anonymous tip about the other gang, so we’re all set. Ready?”

“Ready.” Finn echoed, giving Brad one last loving pat for good luck before heading towards the door, Logan by his side. Leo picked up his pace to walk alongside the other two. 

“Please don’t make me sit in the backseat again.”

“But you’re the rookie.”

“I’m also the tallest. You try being stuck with your knees to your chest for a several hour road trip. Not fun.”

***

Finn laughed as Logan stumbled during their “drunken meandering” in the park near the Slytherin precinct and threw an arm around his shoulder. He spotted a uniformed officer talking on his phone a few yards away, apparently on break. He knew Leo was also out there somewhere, keeping tabs on them and relaying information to Sirius and Loops. Since Finn and Logan were getting arrested, they didn’t want to be caught with mics and earpieces on them. That would really raise suspicions and get their cover blown for sure. So Leo was keeping an eye on them now and Loops would do the same via the security cameras once they were both inside the precinct.

“There’s an officer to our left.” Finn said, leaning close to Logan to murmur into his ear and knocking their heads clumsily together. He could just barely see the curve of Logan’s smile from that vantage point, almost taunting him with how easy it would be to press a kiss there. Just a slight movement of his chin and he could do it. Refraining took all of Finn’s willpower.

He moved away. “Now all we need to do is get his attention and get ourselves arrested.”

Logan leaned in close and eliminated all the space Finn had just put between them, green eyes bright and mischievous and luminous under the artificial light of a nearby streetlamp. “I’ve got an idea.”

Finn simply stared. “Huh?”

“You know how I hate the police?” The brunet-turned-blond asked, grabbing Finn’s hands and walking backwards. Finn followed the siren’s call without hesitation. If he crashed into the rocks and sank because of him – well. Drowning would be worth it.

He had to urge his brain to focus and vaguely remembered that conversation from New Year’s and the rant about abuse of power that came with it. Even drunk off his ass, Logan had made some very good points. “Yeah.” Finn glanced over Logan’s shoulder as they approached the parked police car.

“We’re really going to piss them off today. Go with it.” Were the last words out of Logan’s mouth as he backed himself up against the police car, pulled Finn flush against him, and crashed their lips together. Finn barely missed a beat before he was kissing back, moving a hand up to cradle the back of Logan’s head. On New Year’s – when Finn was convinced Logan was going to kiss him but didn’t – Finn imagined what kissing him would be like. He pictured it soft, tantalizing, and teasing, just like the rest of their night had been. It was somewhat like that, and yet Finn was still off by miles. This kiss was a lot of things – it was warm and feisty and absolutely addictive – but soft didn’t fit the description at all. Logan kissed enthusiastically, if not a little sloppily. Finn couldn’t really tell if that was part of the drunk ruse or not.

Fuck, this was a con. It wasn’t real. This was for the mission, and nothing else.

But then why did it feel so real?

Finn pushed the thoughts away as he angled his head and deepened the kiss, inhaling sharply through his nose as he only then remembered the necessity that was breathing. He might not get this opportunity again, so he was going to use this chance to make Logan weak in the knees. Finn’s brain knew it was a horrible idea, but he wanted Logan to remember this, to think about it before he went to bed that night and wonder what if. If they weren’t spies or partners or on the biggest operation of their entire careers, what if he could have this?

If this was the only time Finn would ever get to kiss Logan, he was also going to make sure he remembered every tiny detail: the way Logan’s breath hitched when he bit down on his bottom lip, the feel of cold hands slipping under his sweatshirt, the rise and fall of his chest against Finn’s.

“Hey now!” A gruff voice shouted, grabbing Finn’s shoulder and pulling the two apart. “Cut it out.”

Finn staggered back – which was not an act. He was just that off balance, mind reeling. The police officer was glaring at him sternly, looking very annoyed. Finn shrugged carelessly, letting his words slur. “I would say sorry, but I mean – come on. Look at him. Can you blame me?”

Leo watched from his vantage point on a nearby park bench, something twisting painfully in his chest.

He could admit he was jealous – that was the easy part. But he wasn’t jealous in a way that made any sense. He was jealous of both of them. He wanted both of them. And yeah, it was a con and they were just making out to get the officers’ attentions, but it sure looked genuine. There were some things you just couldn’t fake.

The way Logan was gazing at Finn was one of them.

Of all people, he had to catch feelings for spies. Not just one spy – two. Two spies who may or may not have feelings for each other.

Fuck.

This is what I get for letting myself speculate, I guess.

“Leo?” Remus’ voice asked through his earpiece. “What’s going on?”

Leo focused back on the mission at hand and forced his voice to stay even. “They’re, uh, making out against a cop car.”

Sirius laughed loudly, while Remus just sighed long-sufferingly. “That’s one way to do it, I guess.”

“They’re egging the cop on, now.” Leo said, watching as Logan’s shoulders tensed and he said something harsh to the cop. “Looks like it won’t be long.”

Sure enough, the cop whipped out his handcuffs and motioned for Leo’s partners to turn around and put their hands behind their backs. They were loaded into the back of the cop car, and Leo allowed his eyes to follow it as it drove off towards the precinct before getting to his feet and walking in the same direction. “They’re on their way. Let me know when all the action starts.”

“Copy that.”

The good thing about being on a mission was that Leo didn’t really have time to internally reflect or try and decipher his feelings. He had a job to do. He couldn’t afford to mess this up because he was too busy stuck in his own head.

He did, however, assume he had enough time to not rush his walk to the precinct. Finn and Logan still needed to be searched, booked, and put in the holding cell before they could even think of starting the riot. So he kept his gait slow and let himself get lost in the sound of the wind sweeping through the trees and the rustle of dead leaves as they danced across the sidewalk.

He shoved a hand in his pocket, finding the old, worn, familiar lock there and fiddled with the dial.

***

Things in the holding cell were… not exactly going to plan.

First of all, there were about half the number of gang members in the holding cell than they anticipated. This wasn’t great, but it wasn’t the end of the world either. It might be harder to get everyone in the precinct to pay attention, but Finn was still confident in their ability to cause a scene. Then it got stranger.

The gang members were absolutely delightful.

Three were sitting by Logan, sharing stories behind their numerous tattoos and rolling up their sleeves to show off more ink. Four more were in a cuddle puddle in one of the corners of the cell, trying to get some sleep. One was even sitting by Finn, although he had made no attempt to strike up a conversation or anything. Finn was usually pretty comfortable with his height – he was tall, by most people’s standards. But the guy sitting next to him was huge. He was at least three inches taller than Leo, and easily twice as broad. With an unreadable face made of stone, the guy was also practically impossible to get a read on. Finn figured he needed to do something to get the ball rolling. Poor Nutter Butter would be stuck outside all night at this rate.

So he braced himself, turned to the guy next to him, and said, “Hey.”

Not his best conversation starter.

The guy looked at him strangely. Finn decided to keep going. “I’m Finn.”

“Tanner.”

“How’s your night going, Tanner?”

Tanner seemed to think Finn was certifiably insane. “Well, seeing that I’m currently in jail, not great.”

“Right… right.” Finn trailed off, cringing internally. He was so off his game tonight. Of course, he knew why, but that didn’t make it any easier to snap out of it. All he could think of was pressing Logan against a cop car and how much he wanted to do it again. But it wasn’t that simple-

“Are you ok?” Finn looked back up at Tanner, who shrugged stiffly. “You seem a little stressed.”

Finn thought about it, then decided fuck it. He’d never see this guy again. And who would Tanner tell? He blurted out, “I kissed my coworker today.”

Tanner blinked, then leaned back against the wall. “Ok.”

“I don’t think he feels the same way.”

He didn’t even bat an eye and the whole being attracted to the same gender thing. His face still revealed nothing. Finn couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not. “Did he kiss you back?”

“Well, yeah.” Finn said, glancing across the cell at Logan and thinking back on the feeling of those lips pressed against his, the texture of the soft curls beneath his fingertips.

“Then what the fuck is the holdup?”

Finn sighed, looking back at Tanner. “It’s not that simple.”

“Look. He either likes you or he doesn’t. What good does it do you to keep guessing when you could get a definitive answer by just asking him? Everyone seems to forget how simple things are when you break them down into components. It’s just simple communication, dude. That’s it.”

“But-” Finn stopped short, taking a second to think when he was struck with a realization. It wasn’t out of the blue, nor was it completely surprising. It still felt like getting hit by a fucking train, though.

Tanner let him stay silent for a second, then prodded curtly, “But?”

“I… I think I might have feelings for another of my friends, too.” Finn thought of sunny blond hair, kind blue eyes, and a warm, dimpled smile.

Shit.

“You know polyamorous relationships are a thing, right?” Tanner sat up straighter, looking at Finn eagerly. It was the first emotion Finn had seen on his face, and also strangely endearing. “I have a ton of articles I can send you if you’re interested.”

Finn couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face. “Thanks, man. I think I might have to wait it out, though. We all work together and it would get so complicated so fast. Maybe once we finish the project we’re working on together.”

Tanner followed his eyes across the cell to Logan. Finn hadn’t even realized he was staring at him again. “Is that the one you kissed or the other one?”

Finn arched an eyebrow, which the gang member snorted at. “You aren’t subtle, bud.”

“That’s the one I kissed. Well, he kissed me, if we’re being technical. But I don’t think he meant it. It was kind of a – a dare, I guess you could say.”

Tanner’s face turned stormy. “He did what now?”

Finn frantically started to backtrack. “It’s fine. I mean, I’m not mad or anything-”

Tanner stood up and pointed angrily at Logan. “You!” He bellowed, voice like thunder. “What the fuck is your problem?”

Logan looked from Tanner to Finn, then back to Tanner, brow knitting in confusion. “What?”

“Did no one teach you about consent you little piece of-”

And then Tanner drew back his fist and slammed it into Logan’s cheek in a brutal cross hit. Silence rang through the holding cell as Logan reeled backwards, raising a hand to his cheek, which was already red. When he looked up at Tanner again, his eyes were a combination of furious and excited.

It looked like they were getting their fight now.

Finn managed to get out the words “holy shit” before all hell broke loose.

Logan threw the next punch, aiming for the stomach first and then the temple when Tanner doubled over, knocking the breath out of him. One of the other gang members took offense to that on Tanner’s behalf and went after Logan, who dodged the first swing easily and collided his fist into the guy’s nose.

The three gang members who were talking about tattoos with Logan instantly jumped to back him up, while the four who were sleeping leapt to their feet and tried to make sense of the situation. There was a charged energy in the air, an undercurrent of adrenaline and anger mingling with it.

Finn hated fights. They were messy and ugly and painful. Plus he was a conman – if his face was all beat up and bruised, no one would trust him and he’d never get any of his jobs done. So he tried to avoid them as much as he could, but he didn’t think he was getting out of this one.

Logan turned his fiery gaze on Finn, making him take an aborted step backwards before he realized this was the plan. They were supposed to be starting a fight. Finn wasn’t sure he could fight his partner, though. Especially since he’d kissed the guy just shy of two hours ago. Luckily he didn’t have to think too hard about it, because Tanner was back on his feet and charging at Logan, along with two other gang members.

Logan moved like the ocean when he fought – smooth and fluid, but also unpredictable and dangerous and wild. He also clearly knew exactly what he was doing, how to exact the most damage on his opponents. He used his size to his advantage by punching upwards and using his leg muscles to land harder punches. With shorter limbs like that, his blows were quick, effective, and brutal. Logan also seemed to be a southpaw, delivering brutal body shots directly to the liver.

It was absolutely mesmerizing.

Unfortunately, Finn was too busy watching Logan to notice the guy coming towards him until he was tackled forcibly to the ground. His head smacked the concrete floor painfully, stunning him for a brief second. When the spots disappeared from his field of vision, he looked up at the guy standing over him.

“Fuck you, man.”

***

“Nut, you’re good to go.” Remus said as he watched cops swarm the holding cell. “I’ll keep an eye out for any stragglers that might catch you.”

“Thanks.” Leo said, and Remus watched the security footage of the side door as Leo crouched by it and began picking the lock. Sirius looked over his shoulder and whistled lowly.

“Damn, Tremblay’s got some moves.”

Remus briefly switched his gaze over to the footage of the holding cell before scanning the hallways for stray officers. “That’s kind of his thing. He gets sent into situations where things are dicey and people need some sense knocked into them.”

“Maybe he should teach O’Hara. He’s already on the ground.”

“What?” Leo asked, sounding concerned as he unlocked the door and slipped inside. “Is he ok?”

Remus watched Finn climb to his feet and face the guy who knocked him down, getting into an admittedly terrible fighting stance. “He’s fine. Head straight down that hallway. The evidence room is the last door on your left.”

“I hate not knowing what’s going on.” Leo muttered, creeping effortlessly down the hall. “Now I understand why Logan hated the bank missions so much.”

Sirius was watching the action in the holding cell eagerly. “I think this mission more than makes up for those. He’s having a blast. Look at him go! He’s a little ball of rage.”

Leo laughed under his breath as he broke into the evidence room seemingly effortlessly. “Ooh, you’d better not let him hear you say that.”

Remus frowned, watching the blond locate the safe and crouch in front of it. Something about him was… off. He’d seemed fine earlier, but now he seemed subdued. His voice was carefully controlled and even, a blank mask on his face.

So the question was: what had happened between 10 am and now that made him feel like he had to distance himself?

The safe opened within a few minutes. Leo switched out the flash drives and pocketed the real one, closing the safe again and rising to his feet. “Headed out now.”

“Coast is clear.” Remus said, looking back at the holding cell. The officers were pulling people apart and seemed to be getting things back under control. “Good timing – looks like the fight is wrapping up. Now all you’ve got to do is pay their bail after a little while and hit the road.”

“Perfect. That’s the easy part.”

Paying bail, it turned out, was not the easy part.

After what felt like the thirtieth time he’d signed a fake name on the forms and having to jump through countless hoops, Leo still had to wait over an hour until Finn and Logan were processed and released. So he sat in one of the uncomfortable chairs in the lobby and waited. And waited. And waited.

When his partners finally walked through the doors, Leo did a double-take. He knew they’d been in a fight, but good lord.

“Y’all look like shit.” He said, taking in Logan’s bruised cheek, the way Finn was cradling his left arm to his chest, and their overall rumpled appearances. He also noticed the way they were steadfastly refusing to look at each other.

Logan snorted. “Thanks, Peanut.”

Leo shrugged, holding his hands up defensively. “I’m just telling the truth here. Don’t kill the messenger.”

“Let’s go home.” Finn said wearily as he led the way outside and towards their car, limping slightly. “I think I might be allergic to this makeup. It’s starting to itch.”

Later that night, when they were all in their separate apartments scattered across the city, all three of them faced a restless night of staring up at their ceilings and wondering, in some variation or another, what if.

[mieohmy]

𝖬𝖺𝗉 𝗍𝗈 𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖧𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 | 𝖫𝖾𝖾 𝖩𝗎𝗒𝖾𝗈𝗇

PAIRING: spy! lee juyeon x spy! fem reader

GENRE: fluff, humor, angst, strangers-to-somewhat-lovers?, spy au 

WC: 3.3k 

NOTES:  mentions of violence, weapons

SUMMARY: to be honest, you had no idea how you became a spy with your horrible direction skills. thank goodness for an extremely cute guy that comes to the rescue. 

૪

You groan in frustration. Why is this thing so complicated? You’re sure you’ve spent at least 30 minutes (30 minutes and 44 seconds to be exact) trying to figure out how to work this stupid GPS. You curse your horrible directional skills.

It all started with a new case assigned to you. Your boss had called you in and, after naming you “one of the best spies we’ve ever had,” decided to give you a new undercover case. With a new partner. You had no idea who your soon-to-be partner was, not really paying attention to what your boss said oops, and deciding just to study the case later.  

After skimming the case file, you took note of the important parts and just threw it aside, putting it to the back of your mind. Which you now regret since you had absolutely no idea how to get to the very high-class party you were attending under a cover, along with your new partner you were supposed to meet up with at the entrance that you were supposed to be at in 8 minutes sharp. You being a very capable spy, knew almost the whole city through and through, but this party was in the more nicer part of the city that you weren’t as familiar with.

Which leads to you now, standing in the middle of the street at night. In a very revealing and glamorous dress that you would never wear but were required to for the case (but mainly because your best friend Yeji said that you should “loosen up more” and “you never have fun”). You would disagree, you considered your job extremely fun and satisfying. It wasn’t every day that you could bash bad guys’ faces in.

Shivering from a sudden gust of wind, it caused you to focus on the task once more. Your phone in hand, you had typed in the address in maps and were sadly still trying to figure out how to get there. You squinted at the screen. Which way were you facing? Is that left or right? You continued walking, still staring at the screen and not paying attention to your surroundings (your boss would be shaking his head if he saw).

You let out a sound of frustration. Why were maps so hard to read? You took a few more steps until you heard a “Whoa!” and an arm reached across and grabbed your shoulder, effectively cutting you off and stopping you abruptly.

You immediately look up, eyes focusing on a lamppost right in front of your face. You glance down at the arm blocking you and then at the person who just saved you and your face (but mainly your pride).

Of course, it had to be an extremely attractive male who saved you from almost face-planting into a pole. You immediately back up and bow at him, muttering thanks and apologies. He laughs, just brushing it off and asking, “I noticed a pretty girl like you all alone and walking, but I never thought you would almost walk straight into a pole.” You blush in embarrassment, from what you almost did or the compliment, you’re not sure. You cough before replying, “I was actually trying to find my way to this party, but I’m afraid I have no idea how to get there.” You study him for a moment, his black hair styled up with gel and wearing a very expensive suit that you’re sure costs more than your car. His body posture seems relaxed so you’re able to put your guard down a little.

His eyes widen for a second before he says, “Actually, I’m on the way to a party as well. Could it be we’re going to the same place?” Turned out, you both were. And luckily, he knew the way. So you were going the right way, you think as he continues on past the telephone pole, you one step behind him.

The mysterious guy introduces himself as Joel, and you comment on his name before he tells you he’s originally from America but moved here to Korea to build his own business. You tilt your head, noticing he didn’t have any kind of accent, but you brush it off. You introduced yourself under your cover name, a daughter representing your father who owns a successful business in printing.

You get along pretty well with him for the 4 minutes that you’re walking together. It didn’t seem awkward or uncomfortable. To be honest, you didn’t really have time or luck for romance with your job, so talking with him made you feel jittery? Not to mention his good looks too. You admired his tall physique from behind as you two continued walking.  

You subtly take your in-ear piece tucked in your secret dress pocket and hold it in your hand, waiting until you get closer. When you near the entrance, you turn the earpiece on and put it in, hoping no one saw. You wait until you hear Yeji’s voice coming through. “Can you hear me?” You clear your throat as a sign of confirmation so Joel didn’t suspect anything. As you near the steps to the entrance, you turn to him, “Thank you for guiding me to the right place. I would’ve messed up if I didn’t make it here on time. You don’t have to wait for me here, I have to take a call before going in.” You really would’ve screwed up, you thought. Spies didn’t tolerate lateness and you hoped your partner that you still haven’t found yet did.

Joel nods in understanding, “Then I’ll see you inside perhaps?” You give him a shy smile before nodding back. He grins, giving you a thumbs up before ascending the stairs. “Who was that?” Yeji questioned. “Nobody, just a cute guy that helped me get here,” you reply, looking around the place for any sign of your mysterious partner. You hear her gasp faintly. “You actually called a guy cute?!”

You roll your eyes, deciding to go up the stairs and look. “Yeah, well it doesn’t matter right now. I’m looking for my co-worker, and I have no idea who and where they are.” Yeji makes a sound of disapproval. “You don’t know who they are?” You hear the typing of her keyboard before she responds, “Lee Juyeon. 23. Under Cre.ker branch. He goes by the code name of Joel Lee if you meet him inside.” You raise your eyebrows in shock. “Shoot. The guy that I was talking to earlier was him. And he just left.” Yeji groans. “You didn’t know who he was? And he didn’t either?” And you two are supposedly our best spies...” she mutters off.

Lee Juyeon. The name sounds familiar to you, but you guess you’ve never met him before since you would’ve known if you had seen a face like that before, and he didn’t recognize you either.

You sigh before climbing up the rest of the stairs and giving your invitation to the man waiting by the entrance before heading in. It’s enormous. Elegant. Extravagant. Exactly how you expected it. There are fancy people, food, decorations. You would be lying if you said it didn’t take your breath away still.

Focusing on the task at hand, you scan the area. Where is he? You get distracted by a couple of waiters offering you extremely fancy drinks (which you gladly accept). You are finally able to locate him talking to a group of people.  You notice he’s definitely engaged in the conversation but occasionally looks up and scans the room, possibly searching for you?

You hoped he figured out that you were his partner. You honestly wanted to smack him and yourself as well since neither of you guys realized that you were working together. As you study the place, you notice some shady guys in the corner, talking amongst themselves. You don’t know what it is, but they seem off. You narrow your eyes at them, making a note in your head to keep an eye out. “Yeji,” you murmur, “there are some guys to my left that are giving me weird vibes.” “Okay, if you need backup, let me know.”

You recall what your boss had said to you when giving the mission. “-don’t forget that you two have to act like you don’t know each other. You can interact, but don’t make it obvious, alright? ...... “-you two escape through the vents, and you know it from there?” You remember yourself faintly nodding. Your boss gives you a look. “You know what to do if you fail—”

Then you’re interrupted by a tap on the shoulder. You spin around, and there’s a man. He bows and introduces himself as Lee Sangyeon. You return the bow, and Yeji speaks in your ear. “Lee Sangyeon. Vice-chairman of the man you’re after.” Exactly who you’re looking for. You talk for a little more before giving him a sweet smile, blinking up at him. “Would you be so kind as to introduce me to your boss?” Not forgetting about Joel or Juyeon?, you find him looking at you as Sangyeon guides you to your target.

You return your attention to Sangyeon, who leads you to what seems to be the chairman. Target acquired. Middle-aged, slightly drunk, but you can see the gleam in his eyes when he meets you. You bow, trying your best to seem elegant. When the chairman grins at you, you remember his profile. Attracted to innocent girls that play hard-to-get. Strangely specific, you thought at the time, but now you’re grateful for it. “What’s a beautiful girl doing here at a party like this?” You smile in disgust bashfully and recite your story. Perfectly memorized to the bone.

As the party continues, you continue to get closer to the chairman, laughing at whatever he says. You’re not sure what Juyeon is doing at the moment, but music begins to play. The chairman asked you to dance, and of course, you accept. You two dance for a couple of minutes(which you felt extremely uncomfortable but tried not to show it) until Juyeon surprisingly cuts in and asks if he can dance with you. You let out a sigh of relief. The chairman laughs, giving you away with a shoo as he leaves, but you can tell his eyes are still watching you.

Juyeon’s hands naturally go on your waist, and you put your hands around his neck. You’re not sure why you feel so nervous though, heart beating faster for some reason.

You take the chance to look at him. How did you not see such a handsome guy at work before? He smirks, noticing you staring. “What is it?” You blush again, but this was not the time to get distracted. You introduce yourself properly. He quirks his eyebrows in confusion before you reach up to whisper in his ear, “We have to pretend we’ve never met before, Lee Juyeon.” He looks shocked, confused, and almost scared before it clicks in his head. “I’m glad I got a pretty girl like you as my partner,” he replies with a grin, eyes staring deep into yours. You think you hear Yeji squeal.

You two continue swaying, occasionally scanning the area. It felt natural like you could continue dancing with him forever. But you were on a mission, and as much as you wanted to keep dancing, you needed to focus. “I’m gonna go to the door on your right, 2 o’clock, follow me in 3,” you murmur. Finally stepping back, it suddenly feels colder now that you’re not in his arms.

You walk towards the door, but not before being stopped by the chairman. He really won’t let you go, you think. You smile and quickly tell him you have to take a quick call, and he lets you go. Once you twist the knob, you scan the surroundings. It’s an empty hallway, with two doors on the left and one straight down. You wait for a little until you heard the door click.

You turn and Juyeon’s there, and so you talk. “How did we not know who each other was?!” He lowers his head in shame, “I didn’t really take the time to look up who you were..” You laugh before continuing. “ it’s my fault too, anyways, do you know what we have to do?” He nods, about to reply until you hear voices getting closer to the door. You immediately grab him and pull him into the nearest room, shutting the door.

You hear the doors open, and the sound of men’s voices cut through. “Do you have it ready?” “Yes, set to 15 minutes.” There are more murmurs that you strain to hear, but it’s very faint. After a couple of minutes, they leave the hallway. You sigh in relief, having completely forgotten about Juyeon. When you try to turn, you realize what position you’re in. You were leaning against the door, ear pressed to it, and Juyeon was over you, one arm by your head, bodies almost pressed together.

You catch his eye and notice them flick down to your lips. You think you’re slowly leaning in, closer, you can almost feel his lips, until Yeji suddenly asks, “What happened?” Your eyes fling open, and you regain your composure, suddenly clearing your throat. He immediately steps back, allowing you to open the door as you reply to her and go back out into the party, sending him one last look.

The chairman finds you again, no surprise. You suddenly stumble, and he catches you, concerned. You suck in a breath. “I’m... not feeling so well. Is there a place I could rest for a moment?” You look at him underneath your lashes, hoping he would take you to the right room. “Of course, of course, you can stay in my study.” He guides you slowly, hand on your back, to the correct room. He takes out his key and unlocks it, letting you in and placing you on his couch. He puts his hand on your exposed shoulder, and you want to smack it away. “I’m afraid I can’t stay in here with you, but I’ll check up on you in a bit. Let me know if you need anything.” As he closes the door behind him, you immediately get up and go to his desk.

Where is the flash drive? You search through every drawer, moving swiftly as your time is limited. You hope Juyeon is out there, distracting the chairman and doing what was assigned. You continue ruffling through papers until you spot it. “Got it Yeji.” You hide it under your dress. “Great, now-“ She’s immediately interrupted by a loud BOOM from outside the room. Then screams and crashes follow. You immediately rush outside.

It’s chaos. People were running everywhere, trying to escape. And then you see the men from earlier, guns out and shooting. You roll your eyes in frustration. What do they want? Of course, people were messing up your mission. You search for Juyeon, but he’s not in sight. Beginning to panic, you look around. Do I help people or escape? Your boss’s words echo. The mission always comes first. You let out a sigh before comming Yeji. “We need backup. Now. Those guys set off a bomb and have guns.” “On it,” she replies.

Then Juyeon comes into your vision. Once he sees you, he immediately rushes to you, checking over you. “Are you okay-“ You put your hand over his, reassuring. “I’m fine, got the drive. Just follow me, alright?” You run one of the doors. Luckily there’s so much happening no one notices you. You kick it open, and he follows behind you, briskly running through the hallway into the restroom.

Once you get in there, you turn to Juyeon. His ears are red, you notice, probably from being in a restroom with you, but you ignore it. “Juyeon, can you get in that vent?” He looks extremely confused, but the look in your eyes must’ve told him. He climbs on top of the sink and hits it. The door falls down, and he looks at you before climbing in. You climb onto the sink ungracefully, cursing your heels. Juyeon looks down at you, and you reach out your arms, signaling for him to help you up. He grabs your arms and easily pulls you up.

Even though you’ve done countless missions, some far more dangerous than this one, you immediately let out a small shriek at the dirty vents. “Y/n, what is going on?” You sigh, “I don’t have time to explain, just keep going forward until you hit the end.”

You continue crawling in the nasty vents, praying for your very expensive dress.  “Just a little more,” he grunts. Once he finally reaches the end, you direct him to open the vent, and he busts it open and crawls out. He politely helps you get out, and you’re about to comment, but you suddenly hear noises below you.

You look around. You’re both on the rooftop, wind blowing past and ruffling your dress. There’s a door leading up to the rooftop where you think you heard the sounds coming from.

“Shoot. I think they’re coming up here.” You grab Juyeon’s hand and lead him to the edge. “What are you doing?” he asks, eyes wide. “Just trust me,” you reply. You position yourself so your back is facing the edge, and you’re in front of him. “Y/n- what-” he splutters. You wrap his arms around your back and place your hands on his shoulders, inching closer and closer to the edge. You think you hear the door burst open and shouts, but you close your eyes, praying this would work, and fall back, pulling Juyeon with you as you rush through the air.

For a second, all you can hear is the rushing of the wind and your hair blowing past, and then you hit something hard, letting out an oof. When you open your eyes, you see Juyeon on top of you, eyes squeezed shut. The only thing heard was the sound of breathing from you two, mixing in the air.

“Juyeon,” you call softly. He slowly opens his eyes, meeting your eyes, somewhat dazed. “Are you okay?” “Wh-what just happened?” he shakily responds. “Since our plan kinda got messed up, this was the backup that I called for. Sorry I didn’t get the chance to tell you..” You unconsciously play with the back of his neck. He says nothing, dark eyes just staring into you.

You open your mouth to ask him to get off you because he was kinda heavy, but you got cut off by Juyeon leaning into you, wrapping his arms around you. You freeze, shocked, before hugging him back. He stays like that for a moment before murmuring, “I’m extremely scared of heights, but thank you.” You were about to ask him why, but whatever you two landed in came to a sudden stop. Honestly, you were so distracted you didn’t notice it was even moving in the first place.

You look at your surroundings. You two were in the back of a truck. Luckily you had landed on top of a covered tapestry(?) to break your fall, but you knew you would be sore after.

You hear a voice, and both your heads turn toward the sound. It was Eric, coming around the back and suddenly seeing you two. “You guys alright-“ He suddenly stops at the sight. You quickly tap Juyeon’s shoulder, and he lets you up. You slowly sit up with a groan. Eric was still frozen so you raise an eyebrow at him. “Oh. Right. Yeah, um we’ve got everything covered. The people are taken care of, and everyone’s safe. I’m guessing you guys are ok?”

“Yeah,” Juyeon suddenly says, getting up and helping you off. He takes your hand as you two continue walking, not letting go. You two share a look before carrying on back to turn in the flash drive, still safely tucked under your dress. Only confused Eric noticing your bashful expression and Juyeon’s red ears as you two walk off.

[mental-dilemma]

A Quick Meeting Part 4?

Damian’s an exchange student in Paris taking it easy until an Akuma attacks and he gets to meet ladybug. -----------------------------------------

Ok before everyone starts pancking: I am Emu-Lumberjack I just decided to create a Sideblog for all my writing so that way those who follow me exclusively for that don’t have to deal with the chaos that is my main blog

also I’m sorry it’s taken so long to post this but just between school and work and school and just general exhaustion it’s been hard for me to write.

and as always all credit to the Au goes to @ozmav 

pt.1 

pt. 2

pt. 3

“I don’t suppose I could bribe you to drop the matter.” Damian said sitting down in Tim’s office. He and Ladybug were situated next to each other while Tim was on the other side of the desk.

“Nope.” He turned to Ladybug, “I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself, making sure Damian didn’t disappear and all that. Anyway I’m Tim Drake, Co-Ceo of Wayne enterprises and Damians older brother.”  

Ladybug turned to Damian and quietly said, “So does everyone in your family constantly talk like they’re trying to impress a victorian lord?” Damian snorted. Tim, unable to hear what she just said, looked to the two agape.

“At least I have a reason.” Damian responded, this time loudly enough for his elder brother to hear. “Anyway Tim is in CEO mode right now, which is pretty rare. Usually he’s a bumbling zombie dependent on coffee to function. In fact I remember one time when Dick took the last cup he----”

“I’d suggest stopping right there or I’ll tell her about the batcow incident.” Tim interrupted.

 “Did you just say batcow? Because I understand each of those words separately.” Ladybug said, and even though her mask still concealed half her face Damian could tell she was really confused.

“Don’t ask. Just don’t.” Damian said quietly.

“Anyway. I never caught your name and considering the fact that your in a mask I assume you’re a hero. Which is surprising because none of us knew Paris had heroes.” Tim cut the two of them off before more could be said.

“Yes that’s becoming a common theme I’m finding,” Marinette began. “My name is Ladybug in the mask. I have a partner, Chat Noir, but he’s currently indisposed, something about paint in his hair.” Damian stifled a laugh as Marinette continued, “We have been operating out of Paris for the last few years, early on we tried contacting the Justice league but Green Lantern told us not to prank call him.”

“Oh did he now.” Tim said, leaning his head forward.

“Yes he did. Thankfully my power allows me to reverse all damage done during a fight. Including any lives lost or monuments destroyed.”

“That sounds like a very useful power. I'm sure that the heroes of Gotham would love to work with you.” There was a twinkle in his eye that Damian knew meant Tim was concocting some scheme. He was about to jump in, but Marinette got there first.

“Yes I’m sure you would but the issue is we currently have our hands full here although from what Damian told me you guys sound much more fun to work with. At least the villains have better costumes.”

Tim noting her wording turned to Damian, “Did you tell her the family secret? You know what Alfred will do if he finds out.”

Damian smirked “I’m not an idiot Drake this was all her. She could rival you for deductive reasoning.” Marinette just sat there looking innocent.

“Well that explains why the two of you were sneaking around together, Ladybug should I assume Damian knows your identity as well?”

“Yep.”

“Well this is going to be a nightmare. But this just means  I can formally invite you to Gotham at least. Ha just leave it to the Ice Prince to leak the identity on his first civilian trip abroad.” Tim leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

“Actually it was you guys who tipped me off.”

Tim suddenly opened his eyes and looked her straight in the eyes. “Come again.”

“Well it was the fact that no one had spied Robin around Batman while Damian was in France. Then the fact that you were patrolling rather than him tipped me off that Robin might be on a vacation..” Tim just face palmed.

“Of course that would happen, how did we not see it coming.” He muttered to himself. “Wait, that begs another question: how did you two meet.”

Damian blushed and before Ladybug could respond he said “not important, there was an akuma. Now do you need anything else.”

“Actually yeah. Ladybug you mentioned the video you sent to Green Lantern, well Batman found it and wanted us to investigate. He didn’t know Green Lantern had seen it or otherwise he’d be on his way back to Ooa healing from a scolding from Alfred. Dick and Jason wanted to come but Bruce needed someone he could send discreetly and who better than the Co-CEO of Wayne industries who could just be checking up on the Paris branch.” Ladybug was impressed by the scheming having Dick Greyson or Jason Todd come in would stir up villain or media activity but Tim the third son wouldn’t.

“Well if you want we can meet up with my partner later and you can formulate a list of questions. Plus it seems you and Damian have some catching up to do.”

“There was a reason I came to Paris Ladybug. Being forced to talk to Tim was not one of them.” Damian made to leave only for a yoyo to catch his leg. Ladybug smirked at him. “Maybe a five minute chat couldn’t hurt anyone. Family reunion and all that.”

“Great then as long as everyones in agreement I can set up a time with chat later this evening for all of us to talk things through and get a strategy in place.”

“Are you sure about this having the league involved is going to cause a lot of chaos and even more dangerous villains could target Paris.”

“Tim I have dealt with so much crap the last couple of years that at this point I will take Darkseid over Lila…… Oh crap. We forgot about Lila.” Marinette looked at Damian who was coming to the same realization she was. He called out Lila in the bakery, and outed himself as a Wayne.

“Do I want to know?” Tim said rubbing his temples. He did not miss highschool.

“Lets just say school tomorrow’s going to be interesting, and I think we’re going to have to put the meeting on hold till after it. Ladybug and I are going to need to deal with school tomorrow, and caffeine isn’t gonna cut it.” Damian said.

“Then again if we aren’t lucid tomorrow might not be so bad….” Marinette began

“Do not even finish that, you even more than me need sleep. Between fashion, school and heroing you function off an hour.”

“You.. have a point. I’ll brief Chat on the situation on my way home. In the meantime I’ll leave you too to the brotherly bonding I’m sure you need.” she pulled her yoyo from her pocket, “See you tomorrow Damian, and whatever plan you hatch up make sure nit doesn’t include killing anyone.”

“Goodnight Ma--- Ladybug. And no promises.” The boy caught himself before revealing Ladybug's identity. She gave him the look of ‘don’t fuck up my secret identity bird boy’ before jumping out the window to run from rooftop to rooftop.

“So. how long have you had a crush on her.” Tim pulled Damians attention, and Damian was sudden;y very glad he had said nothing about not killing his brother.

--------------------------------------

“Do you think they’ll actually help this time?” Chat’s voice rang over the phone, Marinette had stopped behind one of the chimneys to talk to him in private.

“I don’t know, at least now they are actually considering it rather than just brushing us off as children.” Marinette was tired but they needed to have this chat now, there wouldn’t be any chance to in class tomorrow.

“Yeah, just don’t get your hopes up. They left us to fend for ourselves for 3 years and are only doing this now because of Damian if you didn’t know him then none of this would’ve happened.  

“Ok but why does that matter that it’s Damian? They could’ve been doing it because of Jon too.”

“Oh please, you're more dense than our class sometimes. Jon would’ve noted it then forgotten to tell someone, but Damian told Batman right away. Why do you think he did that?”

“Chat I am too tired for this.” Marinette could feel Adrien facepalming through the phone.

“Oh I am not spelling this out for you, this time you get to figure it out yourself.”

“Fine. but next time you need help on your calc homework don’t come running to me.” Marinette hung up on him and made her way home. The parisian streets were nice and quiet for her, no akuma meant maybe another hour of sleep.

Once she was out of the suit she let Tikki rest and got right to work on the new piece she was making for Jagged, he wanted to somehow have the score of his newest piece sewn onto the pants for his next concert, and she had to brainstorm.

Twenty minutes went by.

Then an hour.

Then two.

Finally she put up her pencil and put on her pajamas, as she was falling asleep Adriens words kept replaying in her head, and the meaning slammed into her like a truck. Pulling out her phone she sent one message.

Oh fuck off

tag list: @clumsy-owl-4178 @pawsitivelymiraculous @yuulxd @smolplantmum @inarachi02 @notmycupoftea26 @laurcad123 @unknownvsworld @jeminiikrystal @megawhitleycalderonpaganus

[ren-c-leyn]

Friday Night Fights Story: Revenge

 Decided to do this again since I had fun the last time. This is a short story for @promptsforthestrugglingauthor‘s Friday Night Fights writing event. I wrote this story using this week’s prompt is here, as well as these 1,2 other prompts from their vast collection.

 Okay, a warning before you jump into this one: this is a story of revenge. It both mentions deaths in passing and actually has a murder in it. It’s a little more descriptive than my usual glossing right over it, but it’s not overly graphic.

 It started years ago: when the queen died without announcing an heir. No one knows what happened, and frankly, I doubt anyone cares. Not truly. Not for the right reasons. Heaven’s mercy, I don’t even care about what happened, only the fallout of it.

 Nobles of all stripes set their sights on her throne. They all wanted to rule, even the ones who pretended to bow their heads. Of course, it couldn’t be settled civilly, no. No one gets power like that without a cost.

 Unfortunately, the one who paid for the throne with the blood of the people and the other nobles is, frankly, a tyrant.

 We risked everything to rise, to stand against him, and were destroyed. I watched in horror as my ancestral home was burned to the ground, my own parents forced to stay inside. And I swore to do more than get him off the throne: I swore to take his head.

 Many other nobles and merchant families rallied to my quiet calls, the whispers I sent out in the dead of night. But traitors came, and good people died. Now, now there’s only two of us left. Two desperate people searching to relieve the throne from the weight of the king’s sins.

 I knew something was amiss as I sat across from my last partner in this conspiracy. He fidgeted through the plan, practically squirmed at each point. Then, when the potential fall out of it all hit him, he stiffened up like a damned corpse left out in the winter snow.

 “You ask too much.”

 “Only what is needed.”

 “And if this fails too? What happens when it comes crashing down on our heads, hm? What will you do then? What shall I do then? What of my family? My daughters?”

 I sat silently, staring back at him. An icy chill ran through my chest. His family? What of my family? What of all I sacrificed to face this monster openly? Coward. The word echoed in my mind as I stared him down from across the table. One left, I silently corrected myself.

 “Isn’t it the price we all paid?”

 In the thick of the following silence, he ripped himself up and out of the worn out chair.

 “That’s it! I’m giving up and I’m just done.” He strode toward the door, only turning back for a moment. “What, no protest? You’re not going to give some grand speech to convince me otherwise?”

 “With you gone, there’s no one in my way. By all means, don’t let me hold you back. I’ll make sure the next ruler is aware of your cowardice in due time.”

 He lingered there at the door, face uncertain. His body swayed back and forth, deciding. Eventually, a sigh escaped him.

 “You ask too much,” he echoed in a defeated tone.

 “Then leave, for you won’t have much to lose, soon.”

 His face danced between hardened anger and fresh anxiety before just melting into exhaustion.

 “You believe this has a chance? An honest chance?”

 “As much of one as we’ve ever had, and if it fails, well, is that any worse than how we’re living now?”

 He mulled the words over before sighing again.

 “I... I’ll make the arrangements.” He turned to face me fully, his face turning stony and hard. “But don’t fail. By the gods, I don’t care what you have to do, but don’t fail.”

 I gave him a tight-lipped smile.

 “Who do you think you’re talking to? Now, unless you have another dramatic outburst to make, I suggest you move quickly. Time is of the essence.”

 He gave me a curt, half bow, the tattered clothes of his disguise wrinkling and swaying as he did his best drunken stagger out of the rotting shack, singing off key in a shrill and irritating voice.

 I leaned back in my seat and folded my hands, listening to the familiar way the floorboards creaked underneath. We would do ourselves what we had failed to do with armies and laws. I shook my head. No. Not we. I. I would do it. I would avenge my family, my house, my honor, my queen....

 Three nights passed, and the package arrived at the tavern I had been hiding out in. I pulled out the finery, the mask, the invitation, and the note.

 ~ Don’t fail.

 I snorted and threw the parchment back down. Who did he think I was? A coward? An amateur? I didn’t survive this long by making mistakes.

 I began the slow, tedious process of fitting myself into the clothing. The silks and velvet felt foreign to me now. It had been so long, so very long, since they had last touched my skin. The lace suddenly itched. The jewels and gold felt heavy around my neck. I looked in the mirror and felt ill. It was like staring at a twisted ghost of my former self. A ghost of the person who burned away that day.

 I pulled the mask on, dispelling the image. Maybe one day I could look at my reflection with pride one day. Not tonight, though, not tonight.

 I scooped up the invitation and the most important item of the night before setting out, careful to avoid the paths prying eyes would linger around. The Baron, for all of his cowardice, did know how to follow a plan. The carriage was right where he had promised, driver and all.

 I climbed into the back seat and the horses whisked us away to the grand ball. A beautiful and exciting event for an even more thrilling one.

 Getting in was no trouble for me. I showed the invitation and was announced under a false name. When asked whom I was, I merely tossed out a name of one of the advisors and moved on.

 There was a thick feeling of nostalgia as I waded through the crowds of fancy dresses and elegant suits. The flashes of jewels, the soft music of the band playing in the back of the ballroom. Servants floated around in their best uniforms, passing out drinks and treats as nobles talked business, events, vied for favor and power with each other. It was such a strange world compared to the dark alleys and cramped, ale-scented basements I had been living in for years now.

 But this was not a place for me to linger nor a time for reminiscing. No. Not while the job was left unfinished.

 I swept through the room, a drink in hand, searching for him. It took some time, slipping in and out of conversations, and a dance with a random minor lord before I finally saw him. Just at the end of the dance, as we were both bowing to each other, I spied him from across the room; golden candlelight softened his features, and his eyes just nearly looked kind. Human. But only nearly. I reached for the knife strapped to my thigh.

 The dress was styled perfectly. No one would see me pulling out the blade from the slit underneath the fluff and ruffles. I doubted anyone would even notice the gesture. No. Not until the blood was spilling.

 I excused myself from my former dance partner and waded back into the crowd, eyes locked on him. The king’s laughter began to filter through, slowly rising above the talking and the music as I grew closer. He didn’t know. The fool didn’t even suspect that I, that death, was so near. And it made me angry.

 I didn’t know why, but it made me so angry that it felt like ice was in my chest and my blood was catching on fire. The knife handle in my hand was likely the only thing keeping me from outwardly showing my rage; betraying my contempt, my bloodlust.

 Before my mind had finished processing where I was, I was standing before him. His attention focused on me, and I bowed before him.

 “Your Majesty, it is an honor to meet you again,” I spoke far more tenderly and calmly than I knew myself capable of.

 “It is a pleasure to see you again....” his voice trailed off as he attempted to place me, to recall my name.

 The smile that came to my lips was the first genuine smile to grace my face in years. I spoke quietly, a near whisper, as I reintroduced myself.

 “Wolfstone. Quinn Wolfstone.”

 Just was the recognition and shock registered in his eyes, my knife came out of its hiding place and flew across his throat. A sea of crimson flew out, staining the deep cobalt blue of his fine clothes an even darker red. He collapsed onto the white floor, the sea of red slowly ebbing further and further out as he choked and gargled.

 I stood over him, the knife already back in its place. Still, the blood on my mask and dress would be a dead giveaway. Suppose I should have asked the Baron to send me a red one, but it did not matter now.

 The nobles and servants were screaming as the guards started to rush for me. I ran out, shoving through the crowd until the minor lord whom had danced with me earlier in the evening caught me by the arm, pulling me around to look him in the eye.

“What…what have you done?” he asked, voice dripping with horror.

“What needed to be done. And I won’t apologize for it,” replied with resolution and steel before ripping my arm out of his grasp and continuing my flight out of the palace as the alarm was sounded.

 From somewhere behind me, I could hear that distant cry, the one I had been waiting to hear since my life went up in flames.

 “The king is dead! The king is dead!”

~

Short story taglist, let me know if you’d like to be added or removed:

 @nemowritesstuff ,  @likelyfantasywriterspsychic, @dawnoftheagez,   @orphicodysseywrites,  @hannahs-creations, @writer-candy, @kaylewiswrites, @ravenpuffwriter,  @tenacious-scripturient​, @ofinkblotsandscript,   @mischiefiswritten,   @kespada, @asterannie, @silvertalonwriteblr, @inspiring-prompts, @greenwood-writes,  @wemitodd , @elkatheinkstained, @n1ghtcrwler, @writingiswilde,  @say-no-to-negativity ,  @wordshavings  

[2-cute-4-school]

Hiraeth

Group : NCT

Pairing : Lee Donghyuck/Haechan x f!Reader

Genre : fluff, angst

Word count : 4K words - Part 1

Mafia AU   |   M.list

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 - Final 

Chapter summary :  “Y/N please tell me you’ll always love me.” |  “You know I do. I love you and I’ll keep loving you no matter what.”

“Hiraeth - (n) a homesickness for a home you can’t return to, or that never was.”

Haechan was always by her side, her guardian angel and her partner in crime at the same time. Sure, he wasn’t ecstatic about having a little girl around them at all times in the beginning, but Taeyong was their leader and what he said had to be done. He remembered the day he met her so clearly, a lasting impression on him.

Taeyong had told them beforehand that a new member was going to arrive, but none of them ever expected her. Their squad was made up of only boys so seeing a frail girl trailing behind their leader left them shocked and frozen in their spots. Her eyes were wide, scanning her new surroundings and future teammates while tightly griping Taeyong’s shirt until her knuckles turned white. She tried to put on a brave face, but anyone with a decent sight could see that she was trembling like a leaf.

He later learned her name, Y/N and that she was training for the spy position. Same as Haechan. They seemed to be around the same age but he still felt a strong need to protect her, shield her from any harm. She looked so small that day, meeting the other members who swarmed her as soon as she peeked out from behind their leader. The way her face broke into a grin as she found out she would be training alongside Haechan as spies broke his hard exterior and made him decide he would take her under his wing.

And now, years later, Y/N became the light in the endless night, a breath of fresh air after drowning in the fast waters of a rushing river, although neither Haechan nor the rest of the boys would ever tell her that. But it could be seen in the way they looked at her, drops of honey and stardust swimming in their eyes whenever they caught sight of her or in the relieved exhale of air whenever she hugged them, her warmth enveloping them like a comfort blanket. It was the subtle hints that showed their love for her and the other way around.

“Y/N, I’m going to murder you!”

“Taeyong told me to wake you up, why are you such a bitter bitch?”

“I’m not the bitch here, dear”

“Is it because of old age, Doyoung? I know old people can get easily irritated, but damn gurl, you’re on another level”

A vein popped at Doyoung’s temple and he deeply breathed in, trying to keep his composure before he went nuts and burned down the entire household.

“Y/N, I’ll give you three seconds to vanish from before my eyes”

And she didn’t need more as she zoomed past the rest of them, her giggles echoing around the hallways.

“This is what I get out of raising children” Doyoung sighed before plopping down on the couch beside the younger ones.

To be honest, Haechan wanted to murder both of them. As much as he liked making fun of his members, being dragged out of his room for an unknown reason wasn’t on his to-do list today. He simply wanted to play some video games with his roommate Johnny and Y/N, maybe eradicate their self-confidence when it came to survival games with his unmatched skills. What he didn’t want right now was petty bickering, even though it’s usually his forte.

His train of thoughts was interrupted by the slam of the front door. Taeyong stormed inside, draping his coat and leaving his shoes by the door. His hair seemed messy and his movements were quite tense, very unlike for him.

“Are all of you here?”

No greetings, no smile. Something was going on.

Y/N trudged back in the living room with Yuta in tow, hearing the ruckus created by Taeyong’s hurried entrance. She sat down on the arm of the couch, beside Mark. Haechan took a moment to look at her. Her eyes turned serious, no glint of mischief in them anymore, her lips set in a straight line. Haechan gulped before turning his eyes back to their leader.

“Yes, what’s going on, Taeyong?” Taeil voiced out all of their thoughts. He also seemed tense, it was very weird that Taeyong hadn’t told him anything beforehand.

“I know none of you will like this, but we have a new mission” 

Everyone looked at each other. Missions weren’t anything new and it’s been quite some time since the last time they all went on one so they didn’t understand Taeyong’s worry.

“Alright, so? Things were starting to get boring anyway, so I don’t think anyone minds. What’s the job?” Johnny seemed even more content than the others at the mention of a mission

“Park Ji-won and his goons are having a party. All rich and influential people are invited. They’re probably trying to make connections with powerful people, maybe get them involved in their business. Wendy said he’ll have a USB flash drive with him. It contains future plans and reports of his actions if we get our hands on that he’s done for. Unfortunately, we’re not sure where it will be exactly. He probably won’t have it on him, it would be too risky, but other than that it could be anywhere in the house although his office seems most likely.”

Park Ji-won, the leader of one of the most powerful gangs in the country, a master of assassinations and other dirty deals and NCT’s biggest threat. He hunted them down with every chance he got and killed any allies of Taeyong’s he could. Everyone knew it would be a hard mission. 

Johnny was the first one to break the silence.

“We can handle this, we’ve handled worse”

Taeyong bit his lip, anxiety showing on his face.

“The mission is tomorrow evening”

Silence. And then chaos. Questions and remarks were flying everywhere, most members in shock before Taeil shushed everyone. He looked Taeyong in the eyes, his glare ice cold.

“Do we have a plan already?”

Taeyong sighed before answering.

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Y/N and Haechan will go in dressed up, blend in with the crowd. The hackers will stay here and monitor everything with some of us. The rest will wait in cars scattered near the party. I’ll fill in our spies with some info about the people there and come up with an inside plan, but that’s all”

Haechan’s hands started to sweat and his breathing became irregular. His mind was running wild and he seemed restless. His heart seemed to climb up his throat and jump out any minute. Haechan knew what this meant.

“Taeyong, this is too rushed and you know Ji-won isn’t a man to mess with” Taeil tried reasoning calmly.

“We’ll have to, this is a one time chance”

“BULLSHIT!” Johnny exploded. His excitement from earlier seemed to turn into anger at the announcement of the time of their mission “This is bullshit and you know it, Taeyong! What you’re doing is sending us, sending them” he gestured wildly to the couch where Y/N and Haechan were seated with wide eyes “on a suicide mission.”

“No, I’m not. We have a plan, as long as we don’t stray from it we’ll be fine”

Johnny was seething. He gritted his teeth, barely containing himself from exploding. Anyone could see his clenched fists by his side.

“I’ll shove this poor excuse of a plan so far up your ass it will reach your brain and unclog this shitty mindset of yours, I swear to God-”

“Let’s stop this, please” Y/N voice was weak, any smaller and no one would have heard her. She was looking at her elders fighting with a sore expression on her face “If we have to do this, let’s at least try to come up with something better, this is no usual mission.”

Taeil sighed as he gently pushed Johnny back.

“She’s right, you’re acting like clowns, did the hair dye fry through your scalp and to you neurons?’”

His words seemed to cool down the room, but burn Haechan’s heart. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was in the early hours of the morning when they finally settled. Although their plan didn’t stray too much from the original one, details were added and the spies knew perfectly what they had to do. Things were still riskier than ever and tension was high in the air of the dorm.

Y/N stayed close to Haechan the entire time, his presence calming her down. As long as he was there beside her, she felt as if nothing could touch them, neither one would allow it. Over the years, their bond that first started as a simple partnership soon developed into what they liked to call a soulmate bond. They could understand each other without words and trust tied them together tighter than anything else.

“You should head to bed, bub. You need all the rest you can get.” A warm hand petted her hair, as she lifted her head to meet Johnny’s eyes. He could see the unspoken anxiety behind her fatigued orbs and he wanted nothing more but to wrap her in a fluffy blanket and protect her forever. But everyone knew it would never be possible.

Y/N tried to offer a smile, but it was weak and it didn’t meet her eyes. She was clearly feeling oddly off about their mission too.

“Right, goodnight then.” She lifted herself off from the armrest of the couch and began trudging back into her room, which she shared with Haechan. Said boy didn’t waste another second before following her.

“And kids?” Johnny waited a second until they both turned their heads towards him “Don’t worry too much, we won’t let anything happen to you.”

He smiled kindly, showing his fatherly side which surfaced only around them and it was enough to get Y/N to smile, even in the slightest while muttering a broken ‘thank you’ before continuing her short walk to the bedroom.

Haechan instead lingered a few more moments, eyes shining as he stared at Johnny’s retreating back. He shook his head as if snapping himself out of a trance and rushed to catch up to Y/N, who was already fluffing up her pillows to settle down.

As she finally stretched herself out on her mattress, Haechan hesitated nervously near her. His bed looked cold and lonely and right then, his mind wouldn’t have been able to achieve peace without the help of his lifeline. His soul was too agitated and his heart was beating erratically, almost shattering his rib cage to escape its dark prison and find itself into the warm hands of their real owner, the girl whose eyes would disgrace all the stars in the sky.

“Are you going to fall asleep while standing or do you plan on joining me?”

She could read him like an open book. Through just a few words, Y/N could rip his thoughts out of his fuzzy mind and present them on his sleeve.

Haechan said nothing as he dragged his feet over to her bed and plopped down beside her. Without a second thought, he wrapped her in a protective cocoon of his arms, trapping her against his chest. He worried for a second. What if she could hear his heart? What explanation would he have for the way it betrayed him and threatened to simply jump out at her mere presence? That he was more afraid of losing her than losing anything else in the world? That he wanted to end his own pathetic self at the thought of the next day? That losing her meant his end, the edge of his sanity that he would throw out the window?

“I’m scared.”

It was only the second time he ever heard these words coming out of her mouth. The first time was on her first mission when he had to hold her hand all the way to the house they had to infiltrate in, just to keep her grounded. But that was such a long time ago when she had no experience in the field and her innocence was still intact. So hearing her say these words now unsettled him greatly.

“Why?”

“Is that even a question?”

“We’ve been on countless missions before, we’ll be fine.”

“No, no we haven’t. Not on one like this.”

“Y/N, as long as we stick to the plan, nothing will be different.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Neither did we before any of the past missions.”

She went silent. Y/N knew he was right, but she could only admire curiously the firmness in his voice. Was he really this fearless or did he only keep up this facade to lessen her worry?

“Maybe you’re right.”

“You know I am.”

“Shut up, Hyuck”

He softly laughed at her tone as he let his fingers run through strands of her hair as if mesmerized by the way she was really there, tucked in his side as her index finger traced patterns mindlessly onto his chest. And he was scared too. 

He was scared that the patters would slip through his skin and burn his hurting heart. Scared that tomorrow could bring an end to him, to them. Scared that he would knowingly let his lifeline vanish before his eyes, taking with her his whole being. He wasn’t scared for himself, no. He was scared for her and only her.

“Y/N please tell me you’ll always love me.”

“Ew Hyuck, what the heck are you talking about?”

“Y/N please”

His voice trembled then and broke at the end of the sentence. Y/N craned her neck in order to lift her gaze to his face. She found his eyes already trained on her, staring through her soul with an indecipherable look. That seemed to wake her up a little.

“What is this all about? You said nothing will be different. Why should we- “

He seemed to realize his mistake as he softly shushed her, cradling her back in his comforting embrace.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything, I just want to hear it from you”

It was silent for a few moments and his caresses seemed to slowly lull her to sleep, hopefully, a soothing one.

“You know I do. I love you and I’ll keep loving you no matter what.”

Her words were muffled, barely audible, but they resonated through Haechan’s entire body. It was a matter of minutes before Y/N was off to Dreamland while Haechan came undone in the darkness of their shared room. Hot tears rimmed his eyes before slipping down his cheeks, leaving trails of ashes from fallen stars. He closed his eyes tightly, feeling the utter dread rip apart his body, burn every piece of him down to nothing as the only witness to him falling apart was the moon which seemed to shine shallowly through the lids. He lifted a hand to cover his mouth, to keep the devastation inside himself, to let it eat him inside out.

That’s how he finally fell asleep, heart in his throat, weakly yelling at him to give up, to allow her full control and his mind, fighting against it, destroying him from both ends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N’s hands were sweating as Mark went over the plan for the millionth time, talking endlessly from the passenger seat. Johnny was sat behind the wheel, gripping it so tightly, Y/N was afraid it would bend and break anytime. She did her best trying to shut down her emotions ever since she woke up that morning, falling into her way to cope with unwanted uneasiness that came every time she had to go on a mission.

“Are you sure you’re feeling well, Y/N?” Mark’s voice snapped her out of her state.

“Huh?”

“You seem a bit out of it”

“I’m alright, don’t worry,” Mark still seemed reluctant and she could feel Johnny’s gaze through the mirror in front of him “really, I promise.”

Mark sighed as he turned back around, settling down in his seat as silence enveloped the car. Suddenly, fingers slipped through hers, intertwining their hands with a strong grip. Y/N’s head snapped towards Haechan who watched carefully with worried, but soft eyes. She could tell he was nervous too, but he tried to push that aside just to make sure she was fine. In return, she squeezed his hand back fiercely, trying to show him he could also lean on her, that there was nothing to be afraid as long as they stayed together.

As they neared their destination, the tension in the car intensified, almost suffocating Y/N as she struggled to keep her mind clear and not let her evident fear unleash and swallow up her sanity. The car stopped just short of the entrance gate as they unbuckled their seat belts. Y/N watched as Mark checked Haechan’s in-ear one last time before leaning forward herself. Mark did his job, but before she could bid goodbye and exit the car, Mark’s warm hand cupped her cheek affectionately, instantly grounding her with his reassuring touch.

“Come back safely, okay?”

“You know I will, we always do.” Y/N tried to bluff her bravery in a poor attempt to convince everyone, including herself, that she didn’t doubt herself. But Mark didn’t fall for it, and she knew none of the others did either. His eyes looked deeply into hers, searching her orbs desperately.

“Y/N.”

“I will, Mark. I really will.”

Johnny patted her head as Mark let his hand fall back in his lap.

“You too, devil child.” Haechan’s head snapped up and he had to force the smile on his face to seem genuine.

“Wow, I can really feel the love here, we’ll be fine.”

With that, the two youngest exited the vehicle, letting the light breeze brush away their nerves and bring them their usual mindset. Quick, quiet and clean. That’s how their jobs went every time. This had no reason to be different. They easily passed by the guards with the fake invitations Wendy provided them with and they stepped inside.

The first thing you could feel once you entered the party hall was definitely the stuck up atmosphere, which wasn’t shocking considering the people present there. The lights were dim and conversations were kept hushed. The tables on the sides of the room were filled with glasses of probably expensive champagne with fancy names and the occasional plates with small sweets. Y/N and Haechan spent the next 15 minutes checking their surroundings, blending in with the ever-growing crowd. They did catch a few glimpses of Park Ji-won caught up in conversations and Y/N could feel her blood start to boil at the sight of him. But she knew they weren’t there to kill him, so she kept a safe distance, far enough to keep out of his sight but close enough not to lose him in the crowd.

“I think we should get this going,” Haechan whispered subtly in her ear. She eyed the stairs she had to climb to the floor where the offices and a few other rooms were located, their best bet at finding the USB. Haechan was supposed to remain downstairs, monitor any weird actions and watch her back. Y/N nodded and immediately disappeared into the crowd, missing the indecipherable look he threw her.

Nearing the stairs, she quickly slipped upstairs, tapping her in-ear once, sending the boys outside and back at the dorm the signal that the plan was put in action.

“Alright, be careful” Taeyong murmured.

She checked the first few rooms nearest, so quietly you could hear a fly buzz around. Every room was empty, both of any people and the USB. Ji-won’s office was still yet to be found, but Y/N’s chest was uncharacteristically beating uncontrollably. Everything was so silent, only the ruckus from downstairs could be heard faintly. Haechan had been silent the entire time and Y/N clung onto her hope things were going well since he hadn’t said a word since she left.

The blood was rushing through her veins, adrenaline high and keeping her going as she neared the next door. Her eyes were focused and it seemed as if no emotion was displayed, her face muscles completely lax. Her footsteps were light, making no sound against the carpet beneath and adding to the eerie silence that threatened to cloud up her throat and spillover.

A loud bang resonated in her ear and she was instantly snapped out of her trance. She barely contained herself from lifting her hand up to touch the device settled inside her ear, but it was enough to make her freeze in her spot, waiting for something, anything, for someone to guide her, to calm her and keep her steady on her feet just for long enough to finish her task. But her guide never came, at least not in the form she hoped for.

“Y/N! Haechan! Get out of there! NOW!” Taeyong sounded more frantic than ever. Never had Y/N heard their reliable leader scream that way, not with such raw desperation and never to abandon their mission, never. Several gunshots now echoed in the background and her teammates’ yells could be barely heard over the ruckus created. “We’re getting attacked! Get out-” Another gunshot, incredibly loud and it was enough to cut off the connection, their only link to the outside.

Y/N felt herself getting dizzy. She was trapped, with no help, her brothers were in danger back home and she could do nothing besides muttering a broken ‘no’ and turning around harshly, not wasting a second to get out of here and back home. Her feet carried her thoughtlessly, to hell with the stupid USB and the cursed Park Ji-won, nothing mattered more than her family who needed her help now more than ever, and she would be damned if she doesn’t get there fast enough to fight alongside them. 

Her entire world was shattering and she was hopelessly and blindly running back to gather the shards.

A hand reached out, grasping her arm and turning her so her back was pressed tightly to a chest as a hand came around her to embrace her tightly around the shoulders. Y/N reached out immediately, ready to fight back but settled for a few moments one sensing the familiar scent of Haechan.

Right, Haechan was still there, still with her. Her lifeline was still there, keeping her alive, clinging to her sanity. Her soulmate was there and anything would be alright as long as their fates stayed intertwined, she would fight until her last breath with him by her side. 

“Thank God you’re here, we have to go, come on, the rest are in trouble.” 

Y/N urged him to get moving, tugging on the arm wrapped around her and trying to step forward. But the boy behind her didn’t seem to budge, frozen in his spot like a cold statue, roots keeping him planted into the ground. She felt him let out a shaky breath, the warm air blowing a few strands of her hair as she struggled to snap him out of his daze and run back to her family, their family.

“Haechan come on-” 

But her words were cut, just like Taeyong’s as the same arm that hugged her protectively in her safe heaven the night before, slipped up and tightened around her neck, cutting off her air supply. Her eyes widened, trying to comprehend what was happening right under her fingertips, the way the pieces of her world were falling apart, becoming dust in the wind with every second that passed. She struggled both physically and mentally. She tried to wrap her mind around the situation at hand, the way her vision was turning black and her will to keep going faded with it, the cruel way everything was ripped away from her in a mere second, the simple way her small world she worked so hard to gain along the years was vanishing into an endless abyss filled with bitter reminiscences.

Y/N struggled to grasp her Haechan’s sick betrayal.

[saintsurvivors]

Hi! I love your writing!! For the Whump Drabbles, could you do #56?

No pressure, have a fabulous day!!

@whumpflumpthump​ I just realized when I sent that last ask, I didn't give you a character😅 Sorry about that, I would love it if you did Mac, thanks, and sorry again

No. 56 Begging

Ahhhh! no problem fam, honestly, thank you so much for sending this in and sorry for your wait!! <3

warnings: broken bones, shitty self esteem, referenced torture but non graphic, jack’s potty mouth and atrocious southern accent.

Mac’s broken bones before. He’s not exceedingly clumsy, but whilst cuts and bruises are a warriors lost, broken bones and concussions seem to be a spies lot, especially ones that deal with explosions and under the table incidents that DXS do. Never mind the fact that he’d broken several fingers and ribs whilst back downrange, had barely been able to stoop when things had gone wrong so spectacular and Al had been less ...well, had been less Al and more parts of Al.

But human minds aren’t designed to remember pain, not really, even ones that are eidectic memory. The neurons remember it, but you forget what caused it, what made your heart stammer, what made your lungs seize, what made you want to jackknife up from your bed in the middle of the night, face wet with tears and blood beneath your nails because you’ve scratched your throat raw. You only remember it when it’s happening again, when you’ve felt that loss, that break.

Mac’s good at compartmentalization. Too well, often times. Jack doesn’t quite understand, not really though he tries, just how afraid Mac is, how afraid he is that if he even begins to open those tiny little boxes, meticulously labelled and stored away in the shelf of his mind, that he might not ever get them back closed. Everything he doesn’t, can’t deal with, handle. Everything he wishes would be wiped clear like the last equation of the white board by the eraser. But it isn’t that easy.

Maybe that’s why he can’t help it, why he leans so easily upon Jack, despite Jack no doubt hurting just as much as he does. Broken bones and concussions are a spies lot, but Mac thinks that kidnappings and hurt are a MacGyver and Dalton special, and wishes that it wasn’t. Wonder sometimes, in the back of his mind just how much Jack regrets meeting him. Wonders if Jack wishes he’d walked away at the end of his original tour and had left a stubborn bomb nerd in the sand of Afghanistan. Wonders how long he’d have lived; it’s a question he likes to ask himself, especially now, after missions, or when he and Jack are traipsing back to exfil after things have gone to shit.

Thinks he knows the answers, but always swallows the question and the answer, swallows the pennies he can taste too, doesn’t want to turn around and accidentally spit it out on Jack. Jack, whose already bloodied, bruised and aching. He’s got probable fractured ribs, but he can’t rest because he has to help haul Mac’s stupid, incapable ass out of the fire. He can’t keep doing this, not to his partner, not to Jack.

His left leg buckles, fire lancing up his shin to his thigh, spreading through his hip. his ankle twists further, and he only just manages to avoid bringing Jack down with him by twisting and ducking, knows that Jack’s ribs can’t take the strain and Jack’s reflexes would have him letting go. The ground is hard and cold, he can already feel the bruises forming over bruises, wonders if he’ll have the entirety of their kidnapping marked out on his skin like the world’s most fucked up map. Wonders if he’ll be able to read all the pit stops and roads, he’s where they first captured us, here’s where they fractured Jack’s ribs up after a failed escape attempt, here’s where they almost waterboarded me, here’s where they shattered my shin with a hammer because I called someone an asshole and Jack punched their lights out-

A frantic hand tucks beneath his armpit, tries to get him up, clamps down on his instinctive cries, blinks reflexively in place of the full body flinch he wants to give.

“C’mon man, we gotta hustle, I think they’re right behind,” Jack crouches as best he can, tries to get his shoulder jammed underneath Mac’s, tries to haul him up through sheer force of strength. A wheezing grunt escapes, pained. God, Mac is so selfish. “Get up, hoss, don’t do this to me, now.”

“You gotta go, Jack,” He says, looks Jack in the face, sees the wide, pain lined eyes, the grit of his teeth. He’s in so much pain, Jack is, exhausted to his very bones, beaten and bloodied. He doesn’t deserve this. “You, you need to leave.”

Jack pauses for a single moment, his arm around Mac’s waist tightens, leaves Mac breathless, dizzy, with breathlessness and pain. Jack loosens immediately, but that rare look of anger doesn’t. Seems to only grow deeper.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Jack far enough growls it, anger and pain, his eyes flash, he looks furious. Furious enough to hurt, to break, to punch. He does neither, only look at Mac like Mac’s said something so stupid, so out of far left field that it doesn’t even compute, as if Jack hasn’t had the same thoughts.

“Just go, Jack!” Mac hisses, insists, tries to shove himself backwards out of Jack’s grip, manages to break it, only to immediately miss it. He’s so fucking selfish. “Look, I’m just weighin’ you down, at this point, baggage, dead fuckin’ weight, you know this, man! You gotta go!”

“Now, I know that’s them blows to the heads talkin’, because I’m pretty sure I didn’t just hear my partner say to leave him the fuck behind!” It’s angry, angry and harsh and pained. An edge to it that has Mac’s back straightening, a shiver roiling down his spine, something pooling in his gut that he hasn’t paid attention to for the longest of times, because like Al used to say, it isn’t the bomb that’s going to kill you, it’s the emotions.

“Jack, please,” He tries to plead, can hear the shouts getting closer, the bark of angry shouting, he can’t let Jack be taken, not again, not when it was Mac that got them into this. “Please, just, go, already! They won’t be able to keep up with you. I can distract them-”

“Boy, are you stupid?” Jack hisses, and that seems to be the last straw. He grits his teeth, face turning red, hand shaking from where he’s tucked it up around Mac’s waist, hauling him up. Mac barely gets his feet beneath him, before Jack is fairly enough marching him forward, eyebrows knitted together, eyes flashing.

“Jack.” Mac hisses, pleads, begs. He’s got no chance but to go forward, pain sunfire hot, chemistry fire burning. He’s sick to his stomach, swallows down the bile. Every foot forward is agony, gut punch deep.

“No, Mac.” Jack grits out. He’s sweating, red faced. His ribs seem to creak with every movement, but he’s got Mac locked too tightly against him for Mac to do anything. They step wrong and Mac lets out a thin yelp. Jack doesn’t even flinch, only grabs the arm he forced Mac to throw around his shoulder further over, presses the swell of his thumb harder over the wrist pulse point. “No, Mac, I ain’t leavin’ you. You know why? Because you’re a fuckin’ stubborn ass of a kid who I still want to punch sometimes and you’ve got the shittiest set of emotions I’ve ever seen and I mean that, I’ve dealt with Deacon and that guy is a hot mess, but fuckin’ Christ, Mac, telling me to leave you behind?”

Something seems to have rattled loose inside of him, something hurt and vicious. Mac falls silent, keeps his hurt noises locked behind his teeth.

“We’re both gettin’ outta here, hoss, I don’t care what that stupid brain a’ yours is saying, and I swear to High Heaven that if you ever ask me to leave you behind, I will knock you on your skinny ass and drag you there, do you get me?  ‘Baggage, dead weight’-” Jack scoffs, literally hauls Mac up over a mound of rocks; his anger seems to be the only thing keeping him going. “Biggest crock a’ shit I’ve ever heard, I’ll tell you what Mackie, if i ever meet that pops a’ yours I’m gonna be beltin’ him so hard I swear-”

“Jack,” Mac says, soft, gentle. Something swells up inside of him, warm, cosy, like he’s just slipped into a hot bath. Even the fiery hot pain of his broken leg seems to have been soothed. “Thank you.”

“Thank you, he says,” Jack’s words sound angry, but his tone is soft. His fingers tap something out in morse code against the shiver of Mac’s ribs. something that spells i love you. “Just never ask me to leave you behind kiddo, I can’t. You go kaboom, I go kaboom, got me?”

“You go kaboom, I go kaboom.” Mac echos softly, wondrously, hopefully.

[the--highlanders]

Spy Games

In which the Doctor spies and is spied on, Jamie asks him to dance, and neither of them are very good at pretending they don't know each other. 

on ao3.

He was being watched.

It was quite obvious, really, when one knew how and when to look. Even from where he stood unobtrusively in the corner, hunched over the blinking screen fixed over the face of his wristwatch and half-hidden from the rest of the room by the fronds of a potted plant, he could feel someone’s eyes on him. He had been doing enough watching of his own to know that it was the ambassador, stood on the other side of the room, eyes kept carefully steady over the rim of his glass. But the ambassador was a better spy than this. Or he ought to be, at least, if the Doctor’s own estimates were right. He would know exactly how to watch without being noticed by anyone but an expert – which the Doctor was, of course, but that was beside the point. This was such a clumsy attempt at watching that he could only assume it was deliberate.

Which, of course, begged the question of why. And that he could only answer with well, because he wants me to know that he sees me watching him.

Good gracious. It was so much more confusing than he had expected, this espionage business.

The screen was flashing at him now, and he tapped at it hurriedly, swiping away the message pushing its way into sight. Even from the few words he had managed to catch before it was gone, he could tell it was hardly the sort of thing he ought to be reading here. If someone should see something like that, and in the middle of their mission – well, the game would be up, that was for sure.

Someone’s fingers closed delicately around his wrist for the briefest of moments, the tips of them brushing against his pulse point, and he gasped, pulling his sleeve over the screen with so much force that he was surprised he did not rip the fabric. Looking up, he saw Jamie standing over him, positioned just close enough to cast their joined hands into shadow.

“What’s been happenin’?” he murmured.

“Jamie!” The Doctor winced even at his own soft hiss, glancing around them, “We’re not supposed to be talking to each other, remember?”

“Aye, I remember, don’t worry. I just wanted tae know how things are goin’.”

Well, he was here now, the Doctor supposed. And surely it was better – it was safer – to let Jamie know what he had seen. Or at least, that was what Jamie was always telling him. No time like the present to test it out. “He knows I’m watching him,” he said lowly, his eyes carefully fixed on the opposite wall. Jamie’s fingers were still clasped around his wrist, and his skin crawled with the thought that the ambassador might see, that Jamie’s simple, casual affection after so long apart might give them away. But he could not bear to wrench his wrist out of Jamie’s grasp. Any sudden movement would be much more suspicious, he told himself. But he thought it with so little conviction that he could only half-believe it. “As far as I can tell, he’s just where we want him. Does he suspect you or Victoria yet?”

Jamie shook his head, his own gaze kept carefully on the crowd. His eyes flickered back and forth, watching the movement of the dancers as they twirled as one, skirts and coats and capes flaring out in a hundred different jewel-like colours. “Don’t think so,” he said after a moment. “I havenae seen Victoria for a wee while – but if he was watchin’ her, I might’ve noticed.”

“Yes, I expect so.” They had risked things long enough. Stretching his arms up to accompany an only half-faked yawn, the Doctor drew his wrist delicately out of Jamie’s hold. “We shouldn’t be talking to each other, you know. I do hope he hasn’t thought anything of it.”

“He won’t.” Jamie held out his hand – the one the Doctor had just pulled his own away from. “I came over tae ask ye tae dance,” he said, grinning, “’cause I saw ye from the other side of the room, an’ I thought ye looked so handsome.”

“Jamie,” the Doctor scolded, only barely managing to keep his voice soft. “I don’t think that counts as surreptitious, you know.”

“Aye, it does. I’ve already danced with five different people, an’ I’ll dance with more after ye. I’m just makin’ the rounds, see.”

“Oh, I see.”

Jamie’s grin turned cheekier, a touch more intimate. The one he used when he was teasing, but he knew the Doctor was enjoying it. “You’re the best lookin’ of them, though.”

It was a good thing, the Doctor thought, that he had chosen to stand in such a secluded corner of the room, where the darkness could hide his stinging cheeks. “Oh, hush.”

“Thought of askin’ the ambassador himself, but that’d be a wee bit too -”

“On the nose, yes.” Sighing, the Doctor took Jamie’s hand. Oh, it was hardly as if he minded being asked to dance – but he did so hate to be outsmarted. And yet, when it was Jamie doing it, and when he got that proud little smile, like he knew he’d run rings around him… well, it was difficult to be too upset about that. “Go on, then.” He inclined his head slightly, a silent admission that Jamie had won this round. “Delighted to meet you, I’m sure.”

“Same to ye.”

They waited on the edge of the dance floor, side by side, just barely close enough for their knuckles to bump together. The other dancers were filtering off the floor painfully slowly, chattering and laughing, a few mopping their brows after the boisterous tune. But the song the musicians struck up next was calmer, more steady, and the Doctor led Jamie out onto the dance floor with his heartbeats pounding faster than his steps. Jamie settled his hand over his waist with equal trepidation, though whether he was worrying about remembering the dance moves or the possibility of being spotted, the Doctor could not say.

“So,” he murmured as they set off into a slow rotation between the other dancers. “You haven’t been flattering all your dance partners like that, then?”

“Hm?”

“Telling them they’re handsome.”

Jamie half-swallowed a decidedly undignified snort, turning it into a cough. “’Course not. I meant what I said, you’re the best-lookin’.”

“Well, I’m very flattered, of course.”

He had missed this. Just the simple sensation of being close to Jamie, feeling his warmth, the way Jamie’s fingers curled against his own like they belonged there. It had only been a few days, he reminded himself sternly. A few days of pretending they were complete strangers. Of passing each other in the palace hallways and averting their eyes lest one of them start smiling and set the other off laughing. And it would only be a few days more until they were certain that the ambassador was the one set on bringing down the peace treaty, and their little spy game would end. At four hundred and fifty, a few days ought to be nothing at all. But here he was, thinking of it as if it was an eternity.

“We’ll get the proof we need, won’t we?” Jamie murmured, as if he had heard the Doctor’s thoughts. “It won’t be long now.”

“Of course we will,” the Doctor said. His voice was tinged with a touch more uncertainty than he would have liked – but he had decided to try and be honest with Jamie. No need to keep up too much of a facade. “Everything is going quite to plan.”

“Good.” Jamie’s grip on his waist tightened, fingers digging into his coat, clutching at him like he might fade away. “I, erm – I might’ve seen the guest list, ye know.”

“Oh?”

“Aye. An’, well – I might’ve seen your room number. Accidentally, mind.”

The Doctor raised his eyebrows, fighting back a smile. “Accidentally, eh?”

Jamie ignored him, but his cheeks were noticeably darker, even under the heaviness of the blue lights. “An’ I was wonderin’,” he carried on, “if maybe I could come an’ find ye tonight. After everyone’s asleep.”

“Jamie McCrimmon!” The Doctor swiped at him, still struggling to control his smile. He very nearly lost his hold on it as he looked up to see that Jamie was doing the same. “We’re meant to be pretending not to know each other. What do you think people would make of you climbing in through my window like we’re acting out some – some version of Romeo and Juliet?”

“Eh?”

“Oh – oh, I suppose – it’s a play.” The Doctor gestured vaguely, waving around their joined hands. “By Shakespeare, you know.”

“Oh, aye.”

He chanced a glance over at the ambassador. To his surprise, he had turned away, lost in conversation with someone else – not that he was particularly happy about it, judging by the sliver of his face that was visible. And if his concentration continued to waver, then surely they could afford a moment of lapsed judgement themselves. Just one.

What harm could it do?

A smile was spreading across his face, and Jamie was smiling back at him, ducking his head as if to spare him from the full force of the aren’t-we-silly fondness on his face, the softness in his eyes. It was probably for the best, all things considered. It would not do to lose their composure here, amongst all these people. Better to save it for when they were alone.

“I’ll read it to you,” he said. “When I see you tonight.”

[bjy-on-ao3]

Fic Friday: Steamy Springs

(As usual, you can find the AO3 version of all my uploads [and some things I don’t post here to tumblr] via my Masterlist blog page.)

Okay, so, first off, happy birthday to this bastard who has lived in my head for...7 months now? Second, the timeline on this is reaching - We’re just gonna pretend they never caught him and fog isn’t an issue and this happens a bit before the anniversary of his arrival in Inaba (which seems to have been around early April?). But I wanted to do some stuff involving water/hot springs and such for this, so here we are.

I also don’t think the Amagi Inn had a co-ed bath, but let’s just pretend for the sake of this it does.

Summary Reader and Adachi take a trip to the Amagi Inn as a treat for his birthday, Adachi thinks that’s not enough of a present by itself.

Tags/Warnings Birthday Sex, Consensual Sex, Creampie, Established Relationship, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Underwater Blowjobs, Vaginal Sex, Water Sex

Steamy Springs (F! Reader/Tohru Adachi)

Convincing Adachi to agree to take a day or two off of work to relax and enjoy his birthday had been a simple task. The relief that had dawned on him when you mentioned the idea was no surprise. As long as you’d known him, Adachi had been fond of being lazy and taking the easy route - whether it was slacking off on shift or doing the minimum work possible. All his dodging actual work had given you ample time to get to know him, though, so you couldn’t complain. More surprising, however, had been how easy convincing the police department to give him that time off had been. Though with the big murder case you’d heard about from the previous year being closed, it made sense there would be less work to do down at the police station and more wiggle room in schedules. 

The thought of enjoying the inn’s hospitality and traditional charm was exciting, though you had been looking forward in particular to the hot springs melting away every ounce of tension and stress. Not to mention, you knew if Adachi had his way there would be more to look forward to, as well - something less soothing but nonetheless enjoyable. The biggest upside to Adachi seemed to be not having to deal with the petty complaints of the townsfolk or getting yelled at by his partner, even if it was only a couple days.

You had arrived in the late afternoon, Adachi promising over the phone to meet you shortly after. His lagging behind worked out perfectly for your plans, however. When you arrived, you had set about dropping off your things in your room and briefly admiring the decoration and tranquil atmosphere.  You left for a little while to tend to several other things you needed to arrange for Adachi’s birthday. Perhaps it was silly you were making so much more of a fuss over it than he was, but you couldn’t help yourself. Preparations were completed quickly, mercifully with little hassle, and you returned to the room smiling to yourself and looking forward to the next couple days.

Returning to the room, there was no sign yet of Adachi. He was running later than expected. Knowing Adachi, you half expected there was something last minute he had forgotten about and needed to take care before he could head to the Inn. Shrugging, you peeled off your clothes and began the process of cleaning up and getting ready to indulge in the springs. Leaving a note on a table beside the futon, you made your way to the springs, already grinning stupidly in anticipation.

A muggy, swirling cloak of steam greeted you when you stepped out into hot springs area, and you took a deep breath, your smile widening. Surveying the edge of the water, you spied someone else - someone you recognized. Adachi was reclining languidly against the edge, leaning back on his arms, back facing you. Obviously he hadn’t been as late as you thought. You didn’t recall seeing any text or missed called, nor any of his clothes discarded in the room or bathroom though. You must have been in more of a rush than you thought. 

But you didn’t let the fact Adachi had made it to the springs first deter you, stepping closer to the edge of the bath. You took a moment to admire how relaxed he looked, as if he hadn’t a care in the world “Why didn’t you tell me you were here already?,” you asked cheerily, not wanting to startle him - he hadn’t seemed to have noticed you approaching beforehand, you assumed the lulling effect of the water was to blame.

“Took you long enough,” he shot back, ignoring your question, twisting around halfway and looking over his shoulder. The steamy haze and the heat of the bath painted a rosy blush across his cheeks and you had to admit silently it looked cute on him..

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, waving a hand dismissively while clutching your towel to you with the other, unable to suppress your smile. 

“The way you’re holding that towel, you’d think I hadn’t already seen it all,” Adachi remarked cheekily as you knelt at the edge of the water, before climbing carefully in.

You rolled your eyes half-heartedly before leaning back against the lip, seated a few lengths away from Adachi to give him space to stretch out his long limbs and relax, and grant yourself the same. You closed your eyes, sighing contentedly as the warm water quickly took effect. 

“You don’t have to sit so far away, y’know.” you cracked an eye open and gave Adachi a sidelong glance as he spoke. “I don’t bite.”

Opening both eyes, you turned to face him, crossing your arms over one another on the edge of the bath. “Ha-ha,” you began dryly, “that’s a lie and we both know it.”

“Yeesh, fine, but you like it when I do,” Adachi retorted, tossing his hands up in feigned defensiveness, a crooked, smug grin overtaking his features.

You sighed again, more for dramatic effect than a sign of relaxation, before moving and re-situating yourself within arm’s length of the detective, eyeing him purposefully. “Better?” you asked.

A small, mischievous sparkle in his grey eyes was your only warning before Adachi made his move. He acted quickly, leaving you no chance to dart away, grabbing you firmly by your waist. “A-Adachi, hey! Wait!” You had time to shout as he lifted you up and over, pulling you back down, settling your ass on his lap and pressing your chest against to his.

“There. Now it’s better,” he stated, sounding smugly satisfied. “Don’t you think so?”

There had been ulterior motives behind Adachi’s attempts to convince you to sit closer to him; the real reason he sounded so pleased with himself. Wriggling against his hold at first swiftly made you aware that Adachi had foregone a towel altogether while relaxing in the bath. Your squirming ceased and your glance flitted down briefly toward the beginnings of an erection poking between your thighs. You worried your lip between your teeth, fighting the sudden, overwhelming wave of heat that bloomed in you; a heat that had little to do with the sultry temperature of the hot springs. You swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the sensation and composing yourself before Adachi noticed how successfully he had flustered you and with such little effort.

“You could have just asked, you know,” you mumbled irritably into his shoulder, but you relaxed against his body. Denying you enjoyed being pressed so close to him would have been a lie. Just sitting in his lap, feeling the growing hardness between your legs, it was impossible to overlook how readily your body responded..

“Aw, but then I’d miss that surprised face,” he teased.

His hands twisted, smoothing over your waist and hips until they cupped your ass, pulling you more firmly against him, grinding you over his stiffening cock, his length taunting brushing your lips and making you let out a pathetic little gasp. He leaned forward hungrily, lips molding to yours in a way that was demanding, but shockingly restrained. Ordinarily when Adachi kissed you, it felt more like he wanted to eat you alive, but there was a more relaxed air to it this time. You weren’t going to stop and interrogate him over the difference.

Content to sit in his lap, you let him ravage your mouth, dragging his tongue over your lips until you parted them for him and slipping it inside. Despite the kiss being more docile than you were used to - a part of you dared think of it as almost sensual - there was an urgency and dominance in how his tongue twisted with yours, massaging but fighting it back down whenever you tried to win the upper hand. His hands kneaded your backside absently as he stole your breath away, and you involuntarily leaned harder into him, rolling your hips lightly.

By the time he broke away and started to pepper your neck with nips and kisses, each sloppier by the second, he was fully hard and throbbing beneath you. A sudden twitch of his erection made you shudder, your pussy clenching reflexively on emptiness, and your hips bucked again. Adachi let out a small laugh against the hollow of your throat that vibrated through you. “I think,” he started and you could feel the timbre of his voice rumble against your skin, “this could be a lot more fun,” he finished suggestively, moving down to outline your collarbone with the tip of his tongue where your towel had slipped down.

“I don’t know, Adachi…” you trailed off, pursing your lips, realizing that perhaps an open spring wasn’t the best place to be getting too hot and heavy.

“What? Worried about getting caught?” he returned, his lip curling a little in a taunting expression.

You set your lips in a hard line, a deeper frown, more indignant than worried. “Yes, I am,” you admitted huffily, cursing how the breathiness of your voice ruined your annoyance.

“C’mon, sweetheart. No one’s gonna know.” he coaxed. When you still looked unconvinced, he tried a different approach. “We’re here for my birthday. You wanna give me a proper present, don’t you?”

“Yes, but-” you protested, ready to explain you had plenty of things prepared for him.

“Then you shouldn’t have to think about it,” Adachi pushed, silencing your argument.

You gave in after another moment of consideration. “Alright.”

“Better get started then.”

You moved, angling your hips until the head of his dick teased your slit and pushed forward. But Adachi stopped you with one hand on your hipbone, his other hand migrating to the top of your head. “Aah, not like that,” he said, his voice playfully scolding. He pushed you away, pressing down on your skull and glancing down at the steaming surface of the water and his lap to illustrate what he had in mind.

After another quick internal debate on whether you should indulge him so much, you edged back and took a deep breath. You sank beneath the water, closing your eyes and guiding yourself by touch, wrapping a hand around his cock and pumping it up and down a few times. You carefully eased the head into your mouth, doing your best to keep a tight seal, lest the spring water trickle in. You continued until you had completely wrapped your lips around his length, the tip brushing the back of your throat. 

From there you hollowed your cheeks and began to suck, rolling your tongue along the underside and wriggling it against where the head met his shaft when you pulled back up. You eagerly stroked whatever part of his length your mouth didn’t take, cupping and massaging his balls with the other hand. You ignored the burgeoning ache in your lungs for as long as you could before drawing back and taking a second to catch your breath. You glimpsed Adachi’s face briefly, even more flushed than before, his eyes rolling back. You heard him groan, “Ah man, I didn’t think that could get any better.” And then you were below the surface once more.

You repeated the process once more, sucking him off as best you could while considering the water surrounding you and taking a breath when you couldn’t last any longer. When took him into your mouth for a third time, Adachi’s hips were twitching against yours, and you felt more than heard the muffled groans breaking over the surface of the water above you. Your heart jumped in your chest as his hips bucked suddenly, your held breath threatening to escape. You scraped your nails on his thigh lightly in a warning he subsequently ignored, and his hips rolled up again.

You choked around him, water churning and some of your held breath bubbling out around you. You had no choice left but to resurface earlier than before to replace it and tell him off. His hand returned to the back of your hand though, pressing you down. Your heart skipped another beat, this time in panic. He thrust into your mouth again, rougher, and you dug the nails of both hands into his legs sharply and fought against the pressure on your skull.

All at once, the pressure vanished and instead Adachi was tugging you to the surface. You coughed a bit, panting and breathless, glaring at him disapprovingly. “Running out of breath already, baby? Thought you could last longer than that,” he mocked meanly, though his voice was strained and breathy.

“If you’d stop trying to fuck my face while I’m down there, I could,” you spat back irritably.

”Oh, so sorry, sweetheart.” ‘Yeah right’ you told yourself. “You just suck my dick so well I can’t control myself. You forgive me, right?” He stroked your cheek with the back of his hand, the gentle gesture not matching the tone of his voice.

You just frowned at him, continuing to glare and try to catch your breath. You shook off his hand, giving an annoyed huff and folding your arms over your chest, your towel having dropped beneath your bust.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” he cooed, coaxing you back into straddling him. You tried not to think about how turned on feeling him throbbing between your thighs made you. He reached forward, groping at your chest with his other hand greedily and sharply pinching one nipple, and the simmering heat in your belly your irritation hadn’t dispersed intensified. “I bet I know just how to get rid of that sour look,” he said, moving both hands to your hips.

Before you had time to say anything, he positioned you over his length and pulled you down, impaling you on his cock completely and making you gasp. “Aah, Adachi,” the sultry words rolled off your tongue without thinking, breaking your displeased facade instantly.

Forgetting quickly how upset you were with him, distracted by the satisfying, aching fullness between your legs and the devious, hungry look on his face, you ground against him feverishly. Bracing your hands on his shoulders, you raised your hips and pushed back down, letting your head roll back as he stretched you all over again.

Adachi took the opportunity as you withdrew again and sank down to bend forward, pressing his lips to your throat. His breath against your neck was cool compared to the spring water, even his lips seemed colder, and you shuddered. “Mm, keep moving just like that,” he urged, sighing when your heat enveloped him all over again. He leaned further into your neck, and between a slew of rough bites you heard him groan against your skin. “Fuck, I love it when I get to take it easy,” he purred, sounding thoroughly pleased and breathy.

Even running his mouth, Adachi was still far quieter than you. You rose back up and speared yourself on his cock again and again, sometimes stopping to grind yourself against him, hoping to add more friction to the scandalously blissful and lewd feeling of his cock spreading you open. Knowing in the back of your mind that you should be quiet, that you should try as little as possible to attract someone’s attention from beyond the spring, you couldn’t hold back. Coming back down, savoring each hot inch, combined with the touch of Adachi’s mouth, the friction, and the steaming spring water was ecstasy, near dizzying. Your mouth hung open, a chorus of moans drifting out into the thick, steam-choked air, obscene and growing louder by the thrust.

“Listen to you,” Adachi jeered, his lips whispering over your jaw up to your ear. His tongue snaked out and he bit down, and you gasped between cries. “I thought you were worried about getting caught. Doesn’t sound like it,” he continued, loving taunting you when you could hardly compose the will to keep your mouth shut, let alone try to refute his words. “Or were you just playing hard to get?” Adachi finished, a chuckle tickling your skin.

“F-fuck,” you sputtered incoherently for a moment, fighting off the moans and trying to gather your words. “I’m trying, I can’t, I-”

“Let me help you get that mouth under control, sweetheart,” he cut in, a smug glee seeping in among the husky undertones. 

His hand swept up, covering your mouth in a grip that was hardly gentle, but you didn’t care. Focusing back on the sweet ache between your legs and the coiling, overheated spring tightening in your belly, you stopped trying to be quiet. Even with his hand muffling them, your cries were loud and desperate, and among them you heard Adachi let out a shaky sound that belied the effect they had on him. When he spoke again, you could hear the strain creeping into his voice, a strain that grew more clear each time your hips met his.

“Fuck, you’re still making so much noise,” he observed, the fingers of his other hand digging almost painfully into your hip, flexing tighter and letting go in rhythm with your pace. “Maybe I should just let you scream; someone’s gonna hear at this rate, anyway.”

He pulled his hand away, and you were back to crying out unsuppressed into the heavy air again, nearly screaming, head dropping back again. His hand moved down, disappearing between your bodies and coming to play between your thighs, stroking your clit smoothly. Your pace faltered as you strove to press yourself into his touch, devolving more into grinding against him than riding him, your moans tapering off a bit, if only from the heavy, panting breaths spilling over your lips.

Displeased with your slowed pace, Adachi bucked his hips harshly up into yours, at the same time pushing you toward him with the hand on your hip. His fingers slowed until their pace was tortuous and you were whining plaintively. “Don’t get distracted now,” he warned you. “This is for me, isn’t? Are you gonna make me do the work?” He asked, his voice equal parts irritable, aroused, and smug.

“Ah, n-no. Fuck.” you quickly denied, shaking your head hazily. Biting down on your lip, you attempted to correct your pace, until you were riding him again, hard and fast, thrusting your hips even more eagerly against him as he resumed the motion of his fingers between your folds. It was a struggle not to fall back into only grinding against the delicious sensation of his fingers that further inflamed the molten tension in your abdomen.

He sighed and groaned again, all annoyance gone from his voice. “Good girl, that’s more like it.”

Despite his complaints of being made to ‘do the work’, Adachi couldn’t stop himself from matching your tempo the closer he drew to release. He could feel the familiar buildup and tightness of his own orgasm in his groin, and the way his thick, labored breathing mirrored yours. The promise of pleasure encouraged him to rock his hips to meet you as you sank down, and your moans pitched even louder, airy and clear and carnal, only adding to the urgency. His hand on your hip was a vice, holding the soft skin in a grip that was sure to bruise shades of purple and blue, and his fingers on your clit were became rushed and messy.

You reached your orgasm before Adachi, but only moved your hips more desperately against his, ignoring the oversensitivity trying to dissuade you. It was far too small a displeasure to stop you, to drown out the tingling waves of heat that surged outward from your core and made it hard to think. Even in dumbstruck pleasure, you moaned his name, as if it were the only word or thought that mattered.

“Mmph, this was supposed to be my present, but I think I’ve got something for you, sweetheart,” Adachi growled sleazily into your ear. The matching thrust of his hips against yours picked up, faster and harder until each rocked you with tiny aftershocks of pleasure as you dipped down from your climax. “You’ll be good… for me and… take it all, won’t you?” It was his turn to struggle for words, his speech interrupted by feral, bawdy noises.

“Yes, Adachi, yes, yes,” you moaned brokenly. The volume of your cries had lessened, but their number hadn’t, Adachi’s brutal pace still driving your own and dragging out the pleasure of your orgasm, even as it started to ebb away.

He mumbled some unintelligible, filthy praise, before stiffening against you, the hand on your hip urging you flush against him. He leaned in, biting sharply along your collarbone and the swell of your chest. When he finished inside you, you could feel the thick ropes of warmth fill you, and his panting breath puffed over your overheated skin. He held you still and tight against him for a bit, giving a few more shallow thrusts into your cunt, and eliciting soft, tired gasps from you. With a shaky breath, you collapsed forward, laying your head on Adachi’s while he rested on the soft curve of your chest. 

Eventually, you gathered enough of your strength and breath to pull away and lift yourself off Adachi’s softening cock. Instantly you were met with the lean strength of his arms, caging you in and preventing you from going far. “Where do you think you’re going?” He asked impishly, and even though he was still recovering, you could tell his appetite was hardly satisfied.

“Adachi… we can have more fun, just… can we get out of the baths at least?” You asked, hoping he would see reason. “I’m feeling lightheaded.” You weren’t sure if it was the heat or the sex or the combination, but you knew you wouldn’t survive another round with Adachi if the encroaching dizziness took you over.

He sighed dramatically, as if a change in location was a huge favor to ask of him “Fine, but you’re going to have to make it up to me.”

[noncanonlove]

Choices

So I’m working on a 55 chapter expanded fic from this drabble. Updates every Saturday plus some bonus dates. https://archiveofourown.org/works/22117129/chapters/52788106 https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13470156/1/Choices  _________________________________________________

“You’re a what?” Hermione said, gobsmacked.

“Veela. Quarter Veela, actually,” Draco muttered, his eyes glued to the crisps he was slowly grinding to crumbs one by one.

“When did you find out?” she asked, eyes suddenly speculative.

“Summer before fourth year,” he admitted, still not meeting her eyes.

She fell back against her chair in shock, not able to tear her eyes off of him. ‘White-gold hair and moonbright skin’, why hadn’t she picked up on that before now? He looked an awful lot like Fleur, complexion wise.

That must mean… No… A thousand instances spun through her mind starting with the World Cup when he told her to keep her head down. Catching him watching her in class or in the great hall. How he’d turned his attention from her to mainly Harry and Ron when he wanted to be a git. The beautiful moving sketches that she’d find on her nightstand every morning while she was in the hospital wing because of Dolohov. The agony in his eyes when she was being tortured. His lack of dates since Hogwarts. Why he took the position he was in at the DMLE. Lunch together at least twice a week. So many other things. 

They were mates... Much like the Resurrection Stone she hadn’t really put much stock into soulmates before now, but she’d been wrong on that account too.

“Kneazle got your tongue?” he asked morosely, flicking the crumbs from his fingertips.

“It’s a lot to process…” she trailed off. He nodded as he looked out the restaurant window they were seated beside.

It couldn’t have been easy, learning that the person you were supposed to hate was the person who would complete and sustain you and then seeing that person be with other people, be hunted down to be culled, tortured and maimed in front of you and then be mixed up in a gigantic magical battle. His behavior sixth year forward took on a whole new context.

“It makes me sad for you,” She admitted quietly. “It should be someone you would choose outside of the influence.”

At that his mercurial eyes locked onto hers, “Outside of our shared history, what makes you think I wouldn’t consider you?”

She went to open her mouth but froze, the space between her eyes scrunching in thought. They were both very intelligent, first and second in their year. They both had similar interests, loved debating, had an appreciation for art, their tastes in books ran close, they both loved films, the symphony, and the opera. Both of which they’d attended together before. In converse there were several things they were complimentary on. They were paired together to work on enough cases that they were eventually just partnered and she’d always noticed that the things he enjoyed doing, she despised and vice versa. That he always did the dishes when she had him over for lunch or dinner when they worked overtime, a chore she didn’t like fooling with despite a there being a magical solution. The more she thought about it, the more sense it made.

She spied the thus far ignored pickles on his plate. She hated pickles but Draco loved them and she was always happy to hand hers over. The inverse was true with olives. She loved them and Draco would rather die than eat one. When they would order a supreme pizza he would instruct them to toss his half of the olives onto her side of the pie.

She met his eyes again.

“When you put it like that, it makes sense, we make sense. But Draco, we do share that history together,” she said, the skin between her eyes scrunching together again.

He clenched his jaw as he resumed glaring at his plate, “At the very least, please don’t ask to have me removed as your partner at work.”

She stopped entirely and watched as he folded in on himself, his arms crossed tightly while his leg bounced as if he wanted nothing more than to flee the situation. She made a decision and moved.

She could feel his eyes snap to her as she got out of her side of the booth and move over to his, invading his space and crowding him up against the window so the chance of escape was nil unless he climbed the furniture or ducked under the table. She pried his hands from where he had them buried against himself and took them within her own, forcing him to turn towards her. She caught his eyes, playing with his fingers and waiting until he looked at her steadily and lost some of the caginess, noticing the way he relaxed under her touch.

“Do you really think I’d just abandon you? Reject you?” she asked, voice gentle.

He let out a tight sigh, “It’s different for me, Hermione. I need you. The inverse isn’t necessarily true.”

“I wouldn’t say that at all. Like I said, this is a lot to process. I only said I was sad for you over your lack of choice, not that I felt for you because I didn’t want anything to do with you. I do have some questions though,” she said.

“Of course you do, you’re you,” he said, eyes rolling playfully.

His usual brand of sarcasm meant things were looking up.

“How is it you’ve been able to hold off?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” he said, his own brow furrowing.

“Veelas need their mates. I did enough reading after Fleur married Bill to know a decent amount about them. Veelas need their mates, need… intimacy, with them in order to continue living,” she trailed off at his snicker.

“How often do we eat together? See each other? Spend time together outside of work? There’s much more to intimacy than sex. You know that. So far, it’s been enough,” he said. The ‘barely’ was unsaid but she heard it all the same.

Her cheeks reddened but he was right.

“It’s just… the books-”

“Those books were likely written by someone like Lockhart who’d never even met a Veela before,” he sneered derisively at the mere thought of their second year Defense teacher.

“So where do we go from here? Do we need to move in together?” She asked, her brain jump-starting from zero to a thousand miles an hour.

“While that would be lovely beyond words, I don’t want this to be more of a burden on you than it has to be,” he said.

She rolled her eyes, “I thought we’d done been over this part. I said that we make sense already. That we’re good together.”

“Yes, Granger, but do you not want to be courted at the very least?” he implored.

She could see how much it meant to him for her to choose this because she wanted it, wanted him, not because it was what he needed despite the severity of that need.

“Weren’t you the one who pointed out all of our lunch and dinner dates? Trips to the opera? All the non-work related time we have a tendency to spend together…” she looked at him with brows raised. “It’s not as if you haven’t slowly been doing it anyway.”

“You can’t blame me for taking the slow route, I didn’t want to scare you and I wanted it to be as much of a choice as possible. Obligation often breeds resentment and I wouldn’t be able to live with that. I wanted to do it right if I could manage it,” he explained.

She bit her lip as warmth spread through her chest.

“Your place or mine then?” she asked with a bit of a watery laugh.

He squeezed her hands, “If you’re absolutely sure, might I suggest we look for somewhere together.”

“We’ll start looking tomorrow, but for today, I want you to come home with me,” she said.

He didn’t ask questions but wrapped up his uneaten lunch up and let her lead him out of the shop and in the general direction of her flat.

She felt the nervousness radiating off of him, but before she could ask, he tucked her against his side with his hand resting firmly at her waist.

They shared a grin and her heart swooped. It was a choice she’d never dreamed of but it was a choice she’d make a thousand times over again.

_________________________________________________ I suppose I should add that I’m creating more pieces to this experiment, for those who enjoyed it. The next one is Compromises.