#listen. i was in the shower and i was thinking. a marriage of things that always culminates in me stumbling out and reaching for my laptop. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luveline · 4 months

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𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

When someone hurts you, you and Aaron both need time to get better, and to put things right. fem, 8k

cw canon typical violence, graphic scenes and imagery of assault/battery, recovery, mentions of being sick, issues eating. established relationship, lots of angst and comfort, hotch being vulnerable, jack being sweet

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

You lay backward over the luxurious stretch of the couch and sigh as your spine gives a sharp crick. Your head feels heavy after a long shower, your arms ache from a day at work, but the feeling of soft cotton on your legs deters any moping.

I hope these are more comfortable, his note read, a white post it note stuck to a boutique bag. You wrap an arm around your waist remembering how Aaron’s message had made you feel: spoiled, and considered.

You’d mentioned in passing that all your pyjamas are old and rough as a consequence, thought nothing of it, and promptly forgot about the conversation entirely.

When Aaron finally comes home tonight, you’re going to give him a proper thank you. You can imagine his reaction to such a thing, his smile as he says it’s no problem, his eyes shuttering closed as you press a kiss to his cheek. You hadn’t realised how prevalent affection would become in your life after meeting him, but everything he does inspires love. Awful, soft, marshmallowy love where he looks at you and you want to sit in his lap.

You slide your phone up your chest lazily and click the button on the side to light the display. Aaron hasn’t claimed to know when he’ll be home tonight. All he’d said was to let yourself in.

It’s odd but not the worst thing in the world to be alone in his apartment. There’s less and less free space each time you visit as Jack begins to outgrow his and his fathers lodgings, but there’s never a stain or bad smell, the Hotchner apartment feels homey. You’re excited whenever you’re invited to spend the night with them.

Maybe some time soon he’ll ask you to move in, or better, to marry him. You’re not a hundred percent sure how you feel about marriage, about being someone’s wife, but there’s a great well of pleasure to be found in the idea that Aaron would want to marry you. He makes you feel loved already in a hundred different ways but the ring might be nice, like a symbol to signify how much you mean to him.

You rest your hand across your eyes. It’s silly to think of. Sillier to want so soon. You’ve been together for just under a year, and you have no false hopes about rushing into the future, but it’s certainly a future you want with him (and with Jack, too). He’s taking things slowly for a hundred different reasons but he loves you, and gifts like your new pyjamas cement that. He really listens to you.

Your phone rings a moment later.

You smile at the screen. It’s nice to be in love with someone who loves you too.

“Hey,” Aaron says when you answer, his voice warm even through the phone, “I didn’t think you’d answer.”

“How come?” You sit up with a little start.

“It’s getting late, honey. I called Jess and Jack was already gone.” He doesn’t say anything further.

“Are you okay?”

“I wanted to hear your voice, I think.”

“Well, where are you?” You struggle to envision him speaking saccharinely like this where his colleagues could hear him. He’s nice to you often, but he’s a reserved man.

“I’m just,” —a crunching sound of metal, the trunk of his car closing— “about to get in the car. I’ll be home before ten. Can I have you until then?”

“I don’t see any reason to say no. But do you think you could come home a little faster? I have a crick in my neck.”

“And you want me to fix that?”

“You always fix my neck.”

“How have you done it?” There’s a sound you assume to be the car door closing, but you can’t hear anything beyond that.

“I have bad posture.”

“You have perfect posture.”

“No, it’s quite bad.”

He laughs loudly. It took some time to draw the humour from him but he isn’t as stony as you’d think, and for a while he didn’t have much worth laughing for, anyways. Whenever you hear it, you try to prompt it twice.

“You don’t have to lie to me, Aaron, it’s just like when you said my weird rash wasn’t weird.”

He laughs again, to your pleasure. “It wasn’t weird, it was a heat rash, I promise. You act like you’ve never seen heat rash.”

“One of us goes to hot cities all the time and one of us lives permanently in Virginia.”

“What are you talking about? Virginia’s far from cold. You’re being argumentative, I can see your smile in my head. I’m never going to fix your crick if you keep acting like that.”

“No, don’t be like that,” you laugh, tipping back into the cushions. “You’re always such a sore loser.”

“What did I lose?”

You can tell from his tone that you’ve promised yourself one of those hugs that borders on a straight jacket tightness, his face tucked into your neck as he asks you to repeat yourself. What did I lose? he’ll ask again, kissing your chin, the line of your jaw. Tell me clearly.

“It hurts,” you say honestly, “please don’t be mad. I really need one.”

“I’m not mad… I’m going under the overpass, my signal might cut out.”

“Okie dokie. Hey, did you eat? I can make you something for when you get home. I got groceries.”

“I’m not hungry, but you can make yourself hot cocoa, and I’ll drink it when I get there,” he says.

“Or I could make us both some?”

“It’s much more fun if I drink yours before you can, honey. You know that—”

You pause in the quiet, then hear a quick beeping. You pull your phone from your ear and find the call disconnected.

Cruel overpass, you think.

Sure he’ll call you back, you take your phone into his kitchen and set about finding all the things you’ll need for hot cocoa. One mug, because you should hate when he forces you to share, but you love the feeling of his fingers on yours as he takes it and the thankful kiss he dots on your cheek.

The kettle is uncomplicated. You toy with the stovetop, set the kettle on the burner, and let the temperature rise. It begins whistling lightly a mere thirty seconds later.

You click your phone on again. He’ll have passed through the tunnel now and will be calling you back any minute. You stare at the phone, hoping to summon him, slouched over the counter with the tin of cocoa powder by your fingers. The kettle whines with growing heat, but cool air kisses your back.

Goosebumps rise. Up and down the lengths of your arms, the back of your neck—

A sudden chill.

The lack of air comes before the hand, the pain a rush, a burst to be away from. Leather on your neck creaking without sympathy as a hand tightens and drags your body back against something hard.

Not Aaron. Your scream comes strangled under cruel fingers as you fight to move forward again, straight for the burner, the kettle shoved across the burner grate and exploding with scalding water, heat of the burner kissing your chest— you scream, only it’s worse than a scream, sound from the deepest part of you forcing itself past the heat at your neck as you try to fling yourself away from the pain.

You fall with a hard clout. “Stay still!” comes out enraged against the back of your neck. You drop to your knees, the pain lighting flaring up your chest, your gaze frantic as you search for a flame that isn’t there. You’re not on fire, you’re crawling and then scampering up into a standing position when the heavy weight drops itself on you again and smashes your face into the floor.

All your fight leaves you. Your ears ring. Your panic wanes but the pain stays alert in your mouth.

A hand grabs you by the back of the head and drives your face into the ground. It’s like light in your eyes and your nose, the brunt of it, the crack of your bone and the hot trickle of blood that swiftly follows. You gurgle in pain, spluttering and gagging against the linoleum, waiting for Aaron to turn you over and say sorry. It’s an accident.

Blood drains from your nose in spurts to match your racing pulse, so much blood you can see your eyes reflected in the dark stretch of it. Water drips down the front of the stove, your breath aches and begs, and your attacker takes a measured breath.

He flips you over. You can’t slide away, there’s nothing left in you, your head a second body as he raises something.

Your phone rings on the counter.

“Please, don’t,” you plead with a sob.

You pass out as the pain connects. Just as quickly as it started, your body takes the reins.

—

There’s a strange darkness waiting for you. Like waking before your alarm and stealing those last minutes, body aching, not wanting to get up and face the day. Aaron gets up early every morning, sometimes as early as four AM, and whenever you get up with him your eyes hurt for hours.

Nothing, nothing, nothing.

Hey, hey, I think your boyfriend’s coming.

What will he make of my handiwork?

You didn’t stay awake long enough for that one, did you? But you’re waking up now.

The pain is enough to wake you up again, a hot drag down the side of you to your hip and in. You aren’t aware of the sounds you make, but you can hear them. Your panicked squealing as the heat presses further and further in. Your crying, and your whispering, “Stop, stop.”

“There’s handsome,” the dark voice says. “I’ve gotta go hide somewhere, does he carry after hours? I think I’ll find out.”

“Oh,” you say, feeling sickly. You attempt to curl into yourself, when did you turn onto your back? “No,” you mumble, lips wet with something hot.

“Honey?” a voice asks.

“Honey,” you repeat, woozy again, darkness falling in all over again, where it stays.

Honey, are you in here?

—

The window behind Aaron’s shoulder is cold. Rain patters fast like floods, thunder occasionally chewing through clouds, and Jack Hotchner cries sluggish tears into his dad’s shoulder.

Aaron has his eyes closed. They’ve been at this for a while. “Shh, shh shh, buddy,” he says softly, patting the bottom of Jack’s back. He’d sway him back and forth if his arms weren’t about to fall off.

Jack squirms closer, no room left between them.

“I know it’s scary,” Aaron says.

Jack just cries. This approach of quiet support isn’t working; Jack isn’t a baby that needs to be put to sleep, he’s a panicking little kid, and Aaron needs to change gears. He ushers him away from his chest and crosses his arm behind Jack’s back. Careful, he shifts Jack’s weight to free his other arm and brings his fingers up to the silky brown hair dropping onto Jack’s forehead.

“She’s okay,” Aaron says, stroking Jack’s hair. His little forehead is clammy. “She’s not hurting. I know it looks scary, honey, but… she’s just resting.”

Jack looks him in the eyes. “Her face.”

“I know.” He nods emphatically. “It’s hard to see. Blood isn’t nice. You don’t have to see her again today, not if it’s too scary.”

Jack lifts a hand to Aaron’s face. Clumsy but with clear attempts to be careful, he wipes at the skin under Aaron’s eye. Aaron bites back a smile.

“I look tired,” he says.

“Yeah.” Jack brings his hand back to wipe his eyes. He sobs as he does it. Aaron can’t describe the ache it gives him to see it.

“Buddy, I’ll do it. Let me wipe your face. I can do it.”

Jack drops his hands. Aaron turns his hand and wipes the smudge of Jack’s tears from hot cheeks, testing the waters with a little smile.

“I couldn’t see you under all those tears.”

Jack does a little smile back. “Yes you can.”

“I couldn’t! But now I’ve wiped all your face I can see you again. You’re handsome, did we know that?”

Jack giggles. He sniffles, and he presses his palm to Aaron’s neck. “I don’t want her to be sad, dad.”

“She’s going to be sad, because something scary happened, but it’s okay. I’m gonna take care of her.”

Aaron would offer to take him home, but they can’t go home. They may not go home for a long time —the team is still trying to work out how someone made it into the apartment without alerting the building’s security or Aaron’s internal system. And then escaped again without Aaron’s notice. Until then, Aaron has to make a decision about a safe house, for himself, Jack, and Jess, though she's extremely unreceptive to the idea.

Aaron has to look after Jack, and he needs to take care of you.

“What do you think, bud?” he asks, cupping Jack’s head in his hand. “Do you want to go home?”

“You said I can give her a hug.”

“If it’s too scary, we don’t have to. I don’t want you to get upset again.”

“I’m not scared. I want to give her the hug,” he says.

Aaron pulls him in for a hug of his own. “Okay, buddy. Just try to think of it like this. She’s where she needs to be to get better. Everybody here is looking after her. She’ll be okay soon.”

Aaron looks over Jack’s head down the hospital hallway. It’s a quiet ward, and here between the main ward doors and the hallway that leads down to the individual rooms there’s complete silence. Night is approaching quickly again, and with it comes Aaron’s panic. Your head turned into a puddle, your face lax of expression in the dark. He can’t stop finding the women he loves bloody and on their backs.

“Ready?” he murmurs. “Can you walk with me? My arms are tired.”

“Yeah.”

Aaron puts Jack down gently onto his feet. He neatens his hair, chucking him under the chin as he goes to see his smile. He’s so pretty, like Haley was, with shiny eyes. He’s a beautiful kid. Aaron takes his hand and together they make their way down the hallway to your room.

You’re sleeping.

Aaron herds Jack through the door and to the plastic covered chair by your side, where he lifts him up and sits him down. He stays between you both. Jack isn’t scared of you, just the blood, but he wants to show Jack that he’s going to protect him from anything he needs protecting from. He also desperately wants to touch you, and reassure himself that you’re still breathing.

He looks for your hand. Your pinky finger is splinted, but he can take it with care, give the palm of it a squeeze.

The blood matted in your hair has finally been washed away after a turbulent day, as well as the staining that marred your face. Your nose is broken, and looks it, the bruises so fierce your eyes have turned puffy and your top lip has inflamed. There are second degree burns in multiple places but most affectedly on your chest. There’s a stab wound at your hip, allegedly done with a small blade. It nicked your small intestine. The bandages laid over you are a lump under your hospital gown.

Aaron looks at you, and he feels a passionate disdain for himself. He wishes he could… be someone else. Someone who doesn’t have such a deep connection to a job that hurts the people around him, over and over. Haley used to say he was obsessed with being the hero, but this doesn’t feel heroic.

“Do you wanna give her your cuddle?” he asks softly.

Jack stays sitting.

He’ll have to give it to you himself. Careful, Aaron leans down over your prone body and presses a half kiss to your ear, the only place that won’t hurt.

You have an IV drip going into your arm, painkillers, an ECG monitor to the left. The room is white but busy, you’re a burst of colour against it all, your cuts and bruises, the evidence of violence he can’t remove. Aaron’s tired. He perches on the gap of bed by your leg and holds your hand, turning to Jack, who watches with a frown.

“She’s sleeping,” Aaron says.

“When can she come home?”

“In a few days.” He feels the pad of your hand, terrified of your broken finger but needing to hold a part of you.

“Why is she sleeping all day?”

Traumatic experiences are exhausting. “I think she might want to be alone, so she sleeps.”

“Should we go?”

Aaron shakes his head. “I think we should stay. When she wakes up again she’ll be happy to see us, because we’re not strangers.”

“We’re family,” Jack says. He’d liked that, when the nurse asked you how Aaron was related to you. Family only.

“We’re her family,” Aaron agrees.

If he somehow miraculously fell out of love with you, you’d still be family to them. You’ve given so much of your heart since you met them. Aaron wants everything you have to give.

You wake in a slow, slow upheaval. It takes effort on your part, the opening of sore eyes, the dreary decision to face your pain. Your hand jumps in his but relaxes when he shushes you, your slimmer fingers stilling under his rubbing thumb. For a split second, you keep your gaze half-lidded, jaw soft, like you’ve been indulging in a stolen nap.

Then your breath catches and you screw your eyes tightly.

“You’re okay,” he says, quietly, and not as lightly as he means to, “you’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” in quick succession.

“Hurts,” you say, and gasp, a whine stuck in your throat.

He doesn’t know what to do. Jack shouldn’t watch this but he can’t leave you alone. “It’s okay,” he says, holding your wrist to stop it climbing up your bruised face.

You were worse the first time you woke up. Catatonic, then sobbing. You mumble and whimper now, pain threading goosebumps down your arms.

“It hurts too much,” you say. A sob falls out of you like you’ve been ripped open.

Aaron doesn’t think, but an instinct sparks. The pain, to hit you right out of the gate like this, to make you say something like that when you’ve always always made your problems small, must be torture. It must feel new and sudden all over again.

Aaron checks that Jack is alright and leaves the room. He looks down one hallway and then the other, but there’s no nurse around —he races to the reception desk and begs the two nurses there for help with you, “She’s in intense pain,” he says, grasping the desk.

The nurse he’s more familiar with clears her throat. “Mr. Hotchner, she’s already had enough motrin for two people at your request, she really shouldn’t need–”

“Pain is just as important to treat as the injury.”

A second nurse puts her salad down with raised brows. “Do you want to overdose her?”

“Excuse me?”

Aaron has always seen himself as a gentleman, but the argument that ensues is tricky to navigate while remaining respectful, and he’s no closer to better treatment for you by the end of it. He gives each nurse a disapproving glower and takes his phone from his pocket, turning on the spot, ready to call whoever it is he needs to call for a second opinion. He’s not gonna listen to you cry when there’s no need.

He pushes the door open with the phone still clutched in his other hand. Jack’s climbed onto your bed. He cuddles your face, sitting by your pillows and bent over you protectively.

Aaron lets out a breath.

“It’s okay,” he says, his arm behind your head and his arm on your shoulder. “W’gonna take care of you.”

“I know,” you say, crying without sound, shaking under his arms.

His cheek smushes against your forehead. Your eyes are closed and your face braced for contact Jack doesn’t make, careful not to hurt you as he rubs his cheek into your skin. Your blankets are falling off of you from the squirming and your bruises shine with tears in the light, but Jack has calmed you down some.

Aaron shouldn’t have left Jack with you. He’s been so scatterbrained since he found you when he should be the opposite, but Jack is doing better than Aaron managed alone.

“I’m sorry for crying,” you say slowly. “I’m hurting, but it’s not bad. I’m okay.”

“That’s good. You have a big scratch on your face, and bruises.”

“I know.”

“Dad says you have a bruise on your tummy too.”

“I got lots of bruises, but it’s okay. Don’t worry about me.” You bring your hand up injured and uncaring to rub his leg. “You’re being a really brave boy, thank you.”

A tear rolls down your cheek.

“It’s teamwork,” Jack says. “I hug you and you hug me.”

“Is that what you want? You want a hug?”

“I want to go home,” he says, hugging you harder.

You grasp his arm loosely where it’s just under your chin. “Jack, can you move your arm?” you whisper.

Your breath comes quickly, but Jack moves his arm away from your bruised neck and you try to calm yourself down.

Aaron jolts himself back into action. “Sweetheart,” he says, rushing to sit Jack back and give you more space. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

He watches. Not sure what to say. Not sure saying anything is wise. You squint at him through your lashes, eyes opening slowly, your mouth a line pressed hard to stop from crying.

“I think it's time for Jack to go home,” he suggests gently.

“Yeah,” you say, eyes swimming with tears.

“No.” Jack squeezes your head again, to your panic.

“Jack, buddy, please don’t touch her neck,” Aaron says, grabbing Jack from your pillow.

He erupts into tears again. Frantic and vying for you, Aaron tries to calm him and he kicks against his chest, tears turning to disgruntled sobs at not getting what he wants. You wince, pressing your face completely into the pillow.

Aaron carries Jack from your room, phone in hand.

—

Is she breathing? Can she talk?

I don’t– I don’t know, I don’t– She’s breathing. Honey, can you hear me? I don’t know what to stop. I don’t know where it’s all coming from.

Where’s the worst of the blood?

It’s everywhere.

Abdominal? Chest?

I can’t tell. I can’t tell.

Mr. Hotchner, you can’t panic. Does she have a chest wound?

Yes. Yes, but–

Is she conscious? How’s her pulse? Be ready to start chest compressions.

Honey, can you hear me?

Your name said clearly.

“Hey, can you hear me?”

“Yes,” you murmur.

“If you need a minute, that’s okay.”

You cover your mouth with your hand. Emily Prentiss has a soft voice like your boyfriend’s when she wants to have it. She’s never spoken to you like this, none of his colleagues have, but since the incident, everybody treats you like you’re made of glass.

Cognitive interviews are meant to happen immediately after an accident, but you weren’t up for company. Aaron promised this would be on your terms, that Emily is the most practised, and that she’s reaped the most information from them than the rest of the team. So far, it’s worked to drag bad memories to the surface.

“Maybe we should start from the beginning.”

There isn’t a beginning. There’s just conversation. Aaron’s hand on your heart and his shaky voice, so unlike him.

“Okay.”

Emily reaches for your hand. She smiles, and her nice features get nicer. That’s another thing they all share, good looks. “Okay. What did you notice, in the kitchen? It’ll help if you close your eyes,” she reminds you.

You close your eyes.

“What stuck out?”

“Nothing,” you murmur. “I’ve been in there lots of times, and nothing ever changes.”

“Nothing? Not even the drawings on the fridge?”

“Jack’s particular about his best work, even if I think they should all be on display.”

Emily’s voice turns to a shard of itself. “What did you do? Can you take me through it step by step? Make yourself a cup of hot chocolate.”

“I never got that far.”

“What did you do?”

“I filled the kettle.”

“What kettle?”

You don’t understand the need for specificity, but you answer. “Aaron got it for me, when he… he told me he loved me, and when we got home he’d bought me a kettle and a bunch of stuff to make my being there easier. The kettle, because… he said something about superheated water. How the microwave can be dangerous, and this would be easier than a pan.”

“Alright. Okay, and what did you do after that?”

“I put the kettle on the stove.” You lit the burner, and heat kissed your palm, and suddenly the room had felt cold. “I got goosebumps.”

“When?”

“The kettle started to whistle, and it was cold.”

“And then–”

“Then he grabbed me.”

“Yeah,” Emily says softly.

You touch your nose. “I tried… He didn’t feel like a person. He didn’t feel like someone I was fighting, it was just painful.”

“Like he was quick on his feet?”

“He was silent. I didn’t hear him until I made him fall.”

“How big did he feel?”

Your stomach churns. Big. He’d felt big.

Where’s the worst of the blood?

“He said he was going to hide,” you remember.

“He said that? He said ‘hide’?

“Yeah. And he asked me if Aaron carries after hours.”

“When was this?”

It’s a headache. You try to remember more, because that’s what they need right now. If you ever want to go home, if you want Jack to go home, you need to remember more. The BAU are good, but nobody can make a map out of slivers.

“That was at the end,” you say.

“After he stabbed you?”

You wince. “Yes. After.”

“You’re doing so good,” she praises, “I just want to fill in the gaps.”

“I can’t remember. I was unconscious.”

“When Hotch found you?”

“No, before.”

“Before?” she asks.

You’re sick of sitting there with your eyes closed. Sick of your hands shaking with nowhere to hide them, and sick of feeling sick, your nausea as present as the stinging pain of your burned wrist against your sleeve each time you move.

You open your eyes and look around the conference room for something interesting. How nice would it be to think of something else for a few minutes?

“He called it handiwork when he cut me. Asked if I thought Aaron would like it,” you say, bordering monotonous as your gaze fizzles, unfocused, across the room.

“Okay, Y/N. Okay. I know you’re tired.” She reaches for your hands to squeeze at the same time. “You did really well. Any details at all are details we can use to find him.”

You’re not in the mood for talking anymore. Tears burn your eyes, waiting for a blink to set them loose.

“I want to see Aaron,” you confess quietly.

“I’ll find him for you.” Emily stands but bends, the dark of her hair a contrast to her pale face. She’s lovely, and her hand is gentle on yours. “Are you okay? Can I get you something to eat?”

So Aaron’s not keeping that to himself. “I want to see him, please.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

This is a horrible room. It’s not their fault, but the big white board is tacked with bad photos of grisly cases —currently your own. You stare at a photograph of your blood in the kitchen and don’t know what to do. Should you look away? You hadn’t realised you bled so much.

You turn your chair toward the door. Emily looks back as she leaves and smiles at you softly, but your eyes are already moving to the smaller dry erase board by the doorway. It’s ‘Hotch’s turn to clean up on Thursdays. How strange that they make the boss clean the conference room.

You can picture him picking up coffee cups and wiping down the table. You can always picture Aaron.

You can see him hovering over you, his hand pressed to the bloody mess of your hip to stop the blood.

“It’s okay,” you whisper to yourself, wanting to break from the memory, following Aaron’s example. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.” You repeat it into your hands, head tilting down. You sink until your knuckles touch your knees.

That’s all he says when you panic. He’ll say it over and over again until you can breathe right. I have you, I have you, you’re okay.

He’s much quieter this time. You hear his footsteps, his familiar gait, your head pounding too hard to move. Aaron makes a sound between a sigh and a hum, like he’s saying a sorry hello as he kneels in front of you. His hand takes your face, rubs softly over your ear.

“My head’s just hurting,” you murmur.

He doesn’t respond. You sit together for some time as your mind races with bad memories, your fear a rush of goosebumps down the lengths of your arms and thighs. It’s hard not to think about what happened, mostly because you’re still a walking bruise, your stitches sting when you move, the blisters on your chest ache, all of it inescapable. But it’s your anxiety that plagues you most. You’re in a constant state of dread.

You had no idea someone could hurt you as badly as they had until it happened, and now you’re desperate not to be hurt again.

“You have to look after me,” you say eventually, throat sore with how awful it feels to say.

“Yes, I do.”

“Please don’t let me get hurt again.”

Total silence. You sniffle at his lack of an answer, only slightly comforted by his hands at your wrists now, pulling them from your face. “Let’s sit up,” he says, standing himself. “Come on, let’s sit up. You shouldn’t be putting so much pressure on your abdomen.”

You lean back and everything aches like a stretch after a long run or a bad night’s sleep.

Aaron pulls a chair next to yours. When he sits, your knees are pressed in between one another’s thighs, so close he could hug you. You might need one. He’s given you a ridiculous amount of them each day, some for him and some for you.

He has with him a takeout box and a bottle of water.

“Here,” he says, popping the seal of the drink. “Three sips.”

You feel like crying, but you drink. He opens the takeout box to reveal a normal looking sandwich already cut into two halves, but he takes a plastic knife from his pocket, peels away the wrapping, and cuts the sandwich again into quarters.

“I’m gonna be sick,” you say.

“No, you’re not. You won’t be.” He presses the sandwich flat with his hands and holds it to you until you take it. “Please, Y/N. You only have to eat what you can.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Please.”

“Did Emily tell you about my interview?”

He reaches for your thigh. Mildly unlike him when you aren’t at home. You assume it to be a tether for your sake. “No. Is there something you think I should know?”

“I don’t want to say it again.”

“Then you don’t have to. Someone will tell me when I get back.”

You pinch the fluffy bread in your hands, eyeing wearily at the wet insides. “Can I come with you?”

“You’re having trouble in the cognitive interviews, you won’t want to hear what we have to say.”

You split the sandwich in half again, watching as salad and mayonnaise ooze from the bread.

“If you don’t eat, you won’t get better,” he says, a touch stern.

“I can’t eat when you won’t let me come with you.”

“I’m not the only person capable of protecting you. I…” He circles your wrist before you can make a mess. “Can you please eat it?”

You take a bite to appease him, your stomach roiling, food wet and cold on your tongue. You eat the whole quarter queasily, a lump at the back of your throat begging you to stop.

Aaron takes an empty hand and rubs it tenderly. “Thank you,” he says, that rubbing turned more forceful, his hand journeying to your elbow and back again.

It’s sweet how attuned he is to your needing his touch, but mortifying. This entire experience had been embarrassing from start to end. Couldn’t defend yourself, can’t get to grips with it, and can’t keep anything down. Aaron looks at you and your bruises and you wonder if he’s seeing you with blood matted in your hair, or hearing you beg for him to get you something stronger. All you’d wanted was a sedative.

“I’m far from the only person capable of protecting you,” he says.

“You saved me,” you say. You mean it in every sense of the world.

“…This is my fault.”

“I want to be with you,” you say honestly. “I don’t feel okay by myself right now, I just need you, or I feel so sick I wish that I died.” The anxiety is marrow deep.

Aaron looks gutted. “Don’t say that.” His hand goes back to yours, back to tenderness. “I know you're scared.”

“Then why won’t you listen?” you ask weakly.

“I’m listening to you,” he says, his tone a dulcet, pleasing softness you’ve never ever heard before, “I need you to be safe, and I need Jack to be safe, and I can’t do that while he’s still out there.” His brows pinch together, agonised. “I’m sorry you’re scared. I didn’t protect you. But I won’t let anything happen to you again.

“I love you. Please believe that I’m doing what’s best for you right now.”

You turn your head away. He cups your cheek regardless.

“I love you,” he says again.

“I know.”

“No, I love you.”

He’s saying sorry.

“I love you,” you mumble back.

“How are you feeling? Is anything hurting more? Weeping?”

Your eyes are heavy at his touch. “You only looked at me a couple of hours ago.”

“Alright. Can I kiss you? I need to go.”

You don’t answer. Aaron kisses your chin, your jawline, the type of roving, teasing kisses he’d give as he squeezed your sides, only he doesn’t squeeze you, he can’t without hurting you. His hand hesitates just above your deepest wound.

His bright kiss works to spark a modicum of life back into you. Not a lot, but enough. It was likely his intention, some quick prodding kisses to remind you of something happy between you both.

You curl your fingers over his hand and turn your face for a chaste peck. He smiles, the curve of his lips evident and relieving against yours.

“Someone will take you back to the safe house, okay? Give Jack a kiss for me,” he says.

You nod. Aaron strokes your cheek.

—

Your assailant could have killed you while you were vulnerable, but he didn’t. “He assumes he’ll have another chance,” Emily surmises.

“That’s cocky,” JJ mutters.

“It’s telling,” Aaron says. “But he won’t.”

The coaching has been extensive. You, sick, a breath from tears and hurting, your shoulders in his hands and his grip too tight. If someone tells you I’m dead, you wait. If Morgan tells you I’m dead, you ask Rossi. If he says I’m dead, you ask Emily. You can’t believe the first thing someone says. No one is going to move you from this safe house to another without seeing me first. If I do get hurt, you and Jack will be moved separately. You will always get my confirmation before you’re moved.

I’m not gullible, you’d said, wincing at his sharp tone.

It’s not about that. People will lie, and they will lie well. They will talk their way into the house if you let them. You can’t let them.

I won’t.

He’s racing against a countdown, because no matter what he says, what you know, or how many agents wait outside your house, sometimes it’s a force of will.

Foyet didn’t need much more than that.

He admittedly feels on surer footing knowing where you are. The decision to guard you without putting you in WITSEC is aching and scary but better, too. He knows where you are. He can be there in ten minutes. No guessing games, but no hiding for you either.

Your dread is taking over everything you do. Today’s the first day since you came home almost two weeks ago that you could function without a live-in nurse or Jess there to look after Jack, and already he’s worried, because he’d convinced you total honesty was what’s best for the both of you, and so your texts are candid.

One an hour for his sake, more if you're up to it.

Threw up my beta blockers. Jack misses you, he wants to make you a Lego boat and fishing rod, but I’m not sure how to do it. Please make sure you eat dinner.

Your next message makes him smile, thankfully. I’m kidding about the dinner thing. Ha. I had one of those gels you got for me, and Jack wants fries, so I’m making waffle fries.

He texts back quickly. Eat dinner. Please tell Jack I miss him too, and don’t worry about the boat, he’ll work it out. Then, feeling awful, he adds, I love you

Aaron should go home. He’d feel better if he knew he was there to help you keep your medication down, but if he leaves… He knows his team will give you everything they have, but he has more. He can fix this.

He can’t fix this, god, his head hurts badly. You’re covered in cuts and bruises and burns and he thinks he can make up for that? You’ve been brutalised. Aaron can’t believe this is happening again.

He rubs his brow.

“You okay?” Emily asks.

When he looks up, JJ is gone.

“I’m fine.”

“It’s okay if you’re not.”

He’s not fine, but he knows what she’s asking. “I’m okay enough to do this,” he says.

It’s hard not to confuse you with memory, your hurting similar to his own, your situation one that he’s already lived. Haley will haunt him for life. It doesn’t usually feel as punishing as he fears he deserves: he gets to remember the best parts of her everyday. He sees her in Jack all the time. He sees her in you, occasionally —you’ll touch his hair or rub his arm like she would’ve done, and it doesn’t make him miss her any more than he does, he’s not in the business of wishing you weren’t yourself, he loves you, but he remembers her. Aaron remembers how he failed her every day.

He can’t fail you, too.

“Is it ever easy?” Emily asks.

Aaron looks around for a bottle of water. “Is what?”

“Being in love.”

He thinks about it. “I must make it look hard.”

She laughs softly. “Sometimes, yeah.”

Maybe that’s not fair, then, to you. For him to make it seem difficult to love you. To fail to correct Emily when she asks.

He chooses his words carefully. “Loving her is the easiest thing in the world. But… I continue to work a job I know makes me hard to love in return.” And that puts you in danger.

It doesn’t feel wrong to be sincere. Perhaps it’s easier with Emily. She saw so much of him during Foyet, and she’s family, truly. He can tell her how intense it’s felt.

“Well, it doesn’t seem hard for her,” Emily says.

He shakes his head.

She continues regardless, “Even during her cognitive, she mentioned the first time you told her you loved her. When it was over she wanted to see you over anything else.”

But I put her here, he wants to say. Or doesn’t want to say at all, but instead knows with surety.

“She can’t eat if I’m not home,” he says. What a thing to do to someone. “It’s my fault.”

Emily smiles, hair slipping off of her shoulder as her expression turns to playfulness. “I think you’re seeing it all wrong. Something bad happened to her, and you’re so safe to her that you make it better when you’re with her. That’s not fault, Hotch. Just love.”

He turns his attention back to the board without another word.

—

When the day comes, when they find the man who hurt you, you’re sitting at home with Jack Hotchner in your lap. You’re laughing at his laughing, cartoon fish on the TV, and Aaron’s got a gun in his hand fifty miles away. You both giggle, nearly in hysterics as the safe house living room glows pink and red, Jack’s favourite character swimming hurriedly across the screen, as Aaron negotiates the arrest.

Usually capable of mediation, Aaron finds his patience completely unravelled. He offers the UnSub two choices: he surrenders now, immediately, and he keeps his life, or he deliberates and Aaron kills him.

He has reason to believe the UnSub will try again, of course. Will keep hurting you until it sticks.

He goes home satisfied.

“Dad’s home!” you say excitedly, your movie long finished, your thighs numb and stitches stinging where Jack has leaned against you. You encourage him off of you as the front door closes, the cold air from outside rushing in.

“Honey?” Aaron calls.

“Yeah!” You stumble into a standing position, sure you look about as disgusting as you have since the situation began, promptly sitting back down as head rush hits.

Jack races for the door, meeting Aaron in the hallway with a whoosh. “Hey!”

“Hi, buddy, what are you doing?”

“We watched Finding Nemo,” Jack says, “and now I’m hugging you, duh.”

“Duh. Well, I need to talk to Y/N for five minutes. Can you wash your hands for dinner?”

“Yeah.”

“You okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine.”

You hear the sound of a light kiss, and then Jack rockets across the hallway and up the stairs. Aaron walks into the doorway, tie still knotted but with no suit jacket, and you know what he’s going to say before he says it. He wears a strange expression.

“You got him?” you ask.

He puts a white bag on the coffee table, looking down at you fondly. “I got him.”

“How did you find him?”

He crouches down in front of you. He’s so careful to be harmless to you now, so tentative. “You’re not the only woman he hurt. We dealt with him in the past. From the information you gave Emily during your interview, and the information he left behind, we found him… If you weren’t as brave as you are, I couldn’t have kept you and Jack safe.” He holds your knee. “Thank you.”

You stare at him. Staring, wondering what he means. “Brave?”

“Brave.”

“I’m a coward.”

He shakes his head. “No. You’re not.”

All you've done for days is cry and throw up and bleed, literally. You’ve ruined clothes and sheets, thrown up in his lap, terrified and aching. Each time was met with the same gentleness. A kiss on the cheek, or a hand rubbing your back. Is that bravery? You feel like a baby.

Aaron’s brow is relaxed. He takes your two legs into his hands, and he looks at you with a reverence that leaves you breathless.

“You’re hurt forever because of me,” he says quietly, you strain to hear him, “because of who I am, and what I choose to be.”

“How can you say that? It’s not your fault.”

“It wouldn’t have happened to you if I hadn’t missed his MO the first time.”

“You’re not putting the knife in anyone’s hand,” you argue.

“But it keeps happening.”

His hair shines dark and wet. It must be raining outside, the safe house walls are thick, the windows shuttered permanently, you haven’t heard a peep. You stroke it back from his forehead.

“Remember… when we first got together, and you told me you were sorry for how hard being with you could be. And I said it was okay, that it wasn’t hard, and you said it would be?”

“I remember,” he says, practically mouths.

“I was so afraid when...” You swallow roughly. “I still am. But not– not of you. Not of what you can do. When you told me it was going to be hard, I thought, well, it’s worth it, because I really liked you then and I love you now.” Tears collect in your eyes. Safe. I’m safe. “And you look after me, so– so–”

You stop as your voice turns to glass, worried you’ll make a fool of yourself and cry in his hands.

“I didn’t want this for you,” he says.

“Nobody wants this. Bad things happen to everyone, but who has someone like you to look after them?”

He breathes out heavily. “Please… don’t cry.”

You wipe your cheeks, taking a lengthy pause before you say, “I’m okay now.”

He looks at you in silence.

“Come and sit with me,” you say, scrubbing your cheeks, hot tears cooling on the backs of your hands. “Your knees.”

He actually smiles. It changes his entire face. “What about my knees?”

Aaron sits on the couch next to you atop Jack’s blanket, a bag of pretzels tipping between your leg and his. You attempt to rake his damp hair into submission as his fingers run against your thighs, fishing for pretzels to put back into the bag.

You’d like for him to grab you and kiss you harshly, give you one of his straight jacket hugs, some roughhousing, but you won’t get that from him until you're better, and even then, it’s up in the air. So much has changed.

But not everything.

“I love you,” you murmur, fingertips scratching down behind his ear to the back of his head.

He turns to you, sagging with relief and exhaustion. “Kiss?” he asks quietly.

You nod. He holds your cheek, and you close your eyes at the same time for a kiss. It’s not a lot, but you have time. He can give you another one when you’re both better recovered.

He pulls away. You open your eyes, finding his closed, his face downturned. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Was Jack good?”

“Jack’s always good.”

“Did the nurse have anything to say about your chest?”

��She said it’s healing okay. That I need to use, uh, scar patches when they start to scab.”

“I can get those.”

“I know, I knew you would.”

He gathers you up for a hug. For a moment, you think he’ll move on, that the end of your nightmare will kill his remorse, but he breathes in, nose wedged against your cheek.

“Do you think that tonight, we could pretend it didn’t happen?” You’d like to just sit with him, press your hand to his chest and doze. It’s the first night in a while that you’ll feel completely.

“Yeah. I can do that.” He hugs you rather tightly. “Do you want to see your present?” he asks, relaxing his grip.

“My present?”

He grabs the bag on the coffee table and places it in your lap. “I’m worried it’ll remind you of bad memories, but I wanted you to have nice things then, and I still do.”

In the bag, there’s a pair of pyjamas. Very different to the ones you’d been wearing when you were attacked, they were girly and sweet, soft in your hands, these are sturdy. Still soft, but thick. The shirt is short-sleeved and the pants cuffed at the ankles, a hoodie tucked underneath them, and a packet of minky socks.

“Thank you,” you say.

Thanks for everything, for saving you twice, for taking care of you at your worst, and for wanting you to have something comfortable to wear at the end of it. To have experienced an abjectly cruel battering will leave its marks in your forever, but you meant what you told him. He looks after you, and you love him.

He kisses your shoulder. “You don't need to say that.”

He doesn’t add anything else, his nose pressed to your shoulder, his hand on your hip. Whatever goes unsaid can be felt in the other’s touch.

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

thank u for reading!! it’s been a long time since I wrote a fic for hotch and it’s hard to write him being vulnerable but I hope this is alright anyways and that you enjoyed :D please consider reblogging if you did enjoy it (cos that way my fics get shown to more people <3) ❤️

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

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retroaria · 20 days

Text

Michael Kaiser. That’s it. That’s the post.

i’m having kaiser thoughts. i’m pondering my orb, and all it’s showing me is michael kaiser. the evil voices in my head (my ask box) are taunting me (sending very nice requests) to sell my soul to michael kaiser (finally write something about him) and so here i am.

summary: random kaiser hc’s (lmk if you want more/nsfw ones)

BLUE LOCK M.LIST | enjoy 🪽 - aria

• thinking about how possessive he would be in a relationship. it isn’t overbearing, in the sense that he trusts you and lets you do you’re own thing. however, he’s a rather insecure man behind all that smug douchebaggery that he puts off and he has a hard time watching you interact with other men of his same stature. because truly, no matter how good he is to you, he isn’t the best person all around. there are guys out there that would be better for you and he can’t help be fear that you’ll be swept off your feet and taken from him.

• Kaiser is gentle with you. you actually turned him into a completely different person. It’s not that you’ve really changed him at his core, but you’ve opened him up to love he didn’t know before, and so he feels like he has nothing to be afraid of with you. he’s vulnerable and expressive and happy with you. he makes sure to provide that same experience for you in the relationship, making sure you always know you can go to him for anything and you don’t have to hide anything from him.

• In the beginning of the relationship, Kaiser is very protective of your privacy. He’s really afraid of the consequences that may come with the world knowing who you are and who you are to him. he’s not naive, he knows there’s bad people out there. not only that, but it’s no one else’s right to know you’re love for each other. i see him doing a soft launch and that’s it. after that he’ll post you on occasion and be a little less aggressive about hiding from paparazzi, but he still doesn’t want to share you. you’re his whole world, keyword HIS.

• kaiser LOVES intimacy. physical or emotional, he loves those sweet loving moments that come to fruition from the trust and bond the two of you have cultivated. he loves showering and taking baths with you, relishing in the gentle touches as the two of you clean each other up. they’re always filled with soft giggles and quick kisses, before drying each other off and snuggling up. he loves listening to you talk about your day, not sparing him from details you may have spared others from. telling him all the thoughts and actions you aren’t proud of, unafraid of being judged in his eyes. the vulnerability of it all makes his heart beat fast, but you’re both so trusting and in love that there’s nothing to be afraid of.

• this might be a hot take, but i feel like the concept of marriage would scare him a bit. it’s not that he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life with you, because he absolutely does and already plans on it. it’s just a level of commitment that he never thought anyone would dedicate to him. he doesn’t want you to end up regretting it in the future. he doesn’t shy away from conversation about it though, he actually wants you guys to talk about it and get a feel for where you both stand. when the time comes to take that next step, he’s as ready as ever. just make sure you don’t break his heart please (or i’ll find you bro.)

• dates with kaiser can either be extravagant and classy or they can be chill and sweet, he can do both. sometimes he wants to take you to the nicest restaurants he can fine, see you all dolled up looking absolutely stunning for him, and pamper you the entire night. other times he just wants the two of you to do something fun and spontaneous, would take you to a fair and win you all the stuffed animals you want, or would take you on a stroll around the city, letting you frolick through the shops while he holds all your bags for you. he’s such a gentleman either way.

• kaiser loves being domestic with you. doing the laundry, grocery shopping, cleaning the house, making dinner, he loves it. in those moments he finds himself wishing they would last forever, just the two of you existing in each others presence, he has nothing to worry about.

moon divider- @strangergraphics-archive

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etherealyoungk · 11 months

Text

—⟡ covert desires | kim mingyu

summary: the mission is simple - infiltrate a high-stakes auction that the top leaders, businessmen, women, and politicians of the world attend every year and steal one of the most highly guarded and hidden-away paintings from the target’s collection. the only downside, you had to work with kim mingyu, whom you absolutely hated. and to make it even worse, you had to pretend to be his wife for this mission to work.

pairing: spy!mingyu x assasin!reader (fem!reader)

themes: spy au, mafia, enemies to lovers, fake marriage, mutual pining, spies, angst, fluff, killing

warnings: suggestive, kissing, use of curse words, weapons, guns, knives, violence, use of drugs/painkillers, blood, gore, killing, death

wordcount: 19.5k

a/n: i had so much fun writing this! thank you so much to @fairyhaos to listening to my random ideas and helping me with the title and just being really helpful, ily. and tysm to @gyuswhore for beta-reading this and giving me valuable feedback, lifesaver honestly. tysm! i'd love to know your thoughts on this ^^

full fic under the cut!

— character guide

seungcheol - underground mafia leader

jeonghan - manipulator, gets things fabricated like documents, ids etc.

joshua - keeps a log on the accounts/transactions and assets

jun - spy

hoshi - spy

wonwoo - in house doctor

woozi - in charge of gadgets and other necessary equipment

the8 - in charge of weapons

mingyu - spy and your partner for the mission

seokmin - gathers informations and intel

seungkwan - negotiator and works behind the scenes

vernon - hacker

dino - spy

you wipe the last of the blood off your hands and carefully move the body, manipulating the crime scene to make it look like it was a suicide. with a carefully crafted suicide scene, the police wouldn’t even blink an eye and just close the case as a suicide, not wanting to bother investigating further. you just had to leave around the right clues and bait them. once they’d find it, they’d conclude the case without thinking any further and your job was done. you were sure no one would even miss the bastard that you had just sent to hell anyways. after scanning the room, you make sure everything is in place before exiting quietly and disappearing into the shadows.

when you reach home to your apartment, you swiftly change out of you soiled and bloody clothes. that idiot decided to put up a fight, making things harder for himself really. you planned on killing him quietly, but the fight he put up was unnecessary and he wasn’t going to stand a chance against you regardless. you would have finished earlier and your clothes would have been significantly less bloody. sighing, you peel off your clothes and they fall to the floor in a heap as you step into the shower. the hot water offers some sort of relief and relaxation, your muscles relaxing under the hot water. wrapping a towel around yourself, you step out and hear the faint ring of your burner phone fill the room.

“hello?”, you say as you put the phone to your ear.

“did you get the job done?”, the voice on the other side asks.

“yes, you didn’t hire the best for no reason, did you?”, you scoff back, offended he’d even have a sliver of doubt in your skills.

“good. we have another urgent matter on hand and it has to be discussed in person. you know where to meet me”, the voice adds.

“i swear if it’s another-“

“you’ll love this one, trust me”, the voice says, cutting you short and hanging up as you begin to say something. you curse under your breath; that idiot never had manners. you huff, throwing the phone on the bed and changing into something comfortable before you crash into bed, too tired to complain or think about anything else.

you were an assassin or a hired killer you could say. but you liked to call yourself an assassin - because let’s be real, it sounds cooler. you were trained, skilled, and good at what you did – which was killing people, bad people specifically. when you weren'’t out hunting people down, you were working as a barista at a local cafe. it was somewhat therapeutic compared to your other occupation. but you had to if you wanted to survive in this world. if you wanted your life to have some semblance of normalcy. the world was a cruel place and somehow you ended up doing this for a living but hey, at least it paid well.

the next morning you’re sitting in the hall of seungcheol’s fancy office, or what you liked to call the safehouse.

“you’re here! let me tell seungcheol”, dino says upon seeing you, flashing you a friendly smile. you give him a small smile as he retreats, making his way to look for seungcheol.

seungcheol walks in a few moments later, and his presence can be felt in the room immediately. no one messes with him – everyone knew that. he was the most feared man in the underground mafia and a threat to the government as well. his connections and dirt on powerful people ran too deep with secrets only he knew and used as leverage. hell, even the government would hire him to do their dirty work so he was practically untouchable.

“what’s this urgent matter that needs to be discussed in person?”, you ask, once he sits down opposite you.

“no hi?”, he prompts, raising his a brow as he looks at you.

“no thank you for yesterday?”, you prod back, challenging him. you were really the only person seungcheol let speak to him like that. he’d pretty much raised you and he didn’t seem to mind, especially since you did most of his dirty work.

“we seem to have gotten ourselves another lucrative mission”, he starts off, treading carefuly with his words. “it’s something worth millions if not billions, so this is a really high-stakes operation”, he tells, observing you. “and we’re getting paid handsomely for it and so will you if it goes well”, he completes.

“alright, that seems like a piece of cake. what are we stealing?”, you ask.

“a painting”, he tells, as he takes a sip of his bitter black coffee in front of him.

“it’s going to be displayed in the national museum of culture and arts”, he says as he continues briefing you. “but that’s not all. the annual auction takes place in three weeks. many if not all the influential, powerful people, businessmen and politicians are going to be at this event, so it’s expected that the security is going to be very tight and advanced. they’ll be bidding for art and plenty of other stuff there but not this painting. this painting is special because it’s not for sale, it’s only on display and it’s the first time it’s being shown to the public in twenty years. the mission is to steal this painting, while also making sure no one finds out – so we place a knock-off”. he explains.

“all right, that doesn’t sound too hard”, you say, calculating everything in your mind.

“oh, don’t underestimate this. this painting is going to be highly guarded and anyone can’t just enter the auction either. you need to be specially invited to the auction otherwise you cannot enter, and you can’t go alone, it’ll be suspicious”, he adds.

“what do you mean i can’t go alone? how else am i going to do this?”, you ask, confused.

“mingyu’s going to be your partner for this mission and the only way it’s going to work is that you pretend that you both are a married couple”, seungcheol completes, making you whip your head up. your jaw drops to the floor upon hearing the words that came from seungcheol’s mouth, absolutely appalled.

“did i hear that right? i need to be mingyu’s wife?”, you repeat, leaning forward and seungcheol doesn’t say anything, only looks at you with a knowing smile.

mingyu and you don’t exactly get along together. he was always somehow getting on your nerves and you hated him.

“seungcheol, you know i don’t like him”, you say, annoyed already. “and i work alone”, you add, glaring at him.

“it’s for the mission and we don’t have any other option. everyone else is busy with other missions and mingyu was the only one who’s free at the moment, and i trust him on this one”, seungcheol explains. you can’t really argue with seungcheol because, at the end of the day he was your still your boss and he called the shots.

“i suggest you get friendly with mingyu because we don’t have a lot of time on hand. the auction is in three weeks and you and mingyu need to play a convincing husband and wife role starting today”

“today?”, i repeat. that was really short notice.

“mingyu has it sorted out”, he says, and your burner phone pings. “that must be him”, seungcheols says.

“please try to get along with him”, is the last thing seungcheol tells you before he stands up to leave. he emphasizes his words with the look he gives. it was a ‘don’t mess this up’ look and you sighed. he gives you a small ‘good luck’ before turning around and walking out, getting busy with something else.

you stand up to leave, opening your phone and reading mingyu’s text.

“meet me at the fountain park at 11am”.

you grumble as you make your way to the park and see mingyu sitting on one of the benches. there aren’t many people, but the sun shines warm and the sky is blue - a complete contrast to your mood right now. you’d very much like to walk away but you can’t. you drag you feet and will yourself to walk towards mingyu, who smiles when he spots you. you don’t reciprocate the smile, giving him a stern looking, already annoyed at the sight of him.

"you know, most people don’t scowl when they see a handsome face”, he says when you’re close enough. you roll your eyes and mentally flip him off, crossing your arms across your chest as you glare at him. “handsome my ass”, you mumble under your breath.

“long time no see”, he greets. you don’t sit. “i’ve been busy”, you tell him.

“you look good”, he adds, gesturing for you to sit.

“seungcheol briefed me on the mission, so what’s next”, you ask, getting back on the topic, not wanting to indulge in small talk with mingyu.

“i found us a house to move into until the mission is over and-“,

“wait, why do we have to move in together?”, you ask in horror and he just looks at you like the answer is obvious.

“because we’re husband and wife? and i don’t think i can come by your apartment and suddenly tell all the neighbours that the poor girl they thought was lonely and single is actually married, now can i”, he says.

you scowl again. “they won’t even care!”

“it’ll be a problem if they become suspicious. it’s better to move in elsewhere and you can move back to your apartment when it’s all done and they won’t even blink an eye about what happened. you can also avoid questions about your husband who mysteriously appeared and disappeared”, he explains. “unless you want to explain why you kept such a handsome man a secret and-“

“shut up”, you cut him off and he chuckles.

you weigh out all the options in your head and mingyu’s idea was the best and most promising, even though you didn’t like it very much. you hated the idea in fact. but sometimes desperate times called for desperate measures.

“fine”, you huff, gritting your teeth. “what else?”, you ask.

“jeonghan’s working on getting us the invitation to the auction. we can start by moving in. pack only your essentials. i’ll pick you up by 2 pm tomorrow so you can move your stuff into the new place”, mingyu tells.

you stack the last box with all you stuff and things that you’d need in the new place, dusting your hands on your shorts. if your neighbors asked, you were away, traveling back to meet family who lived in another state. you’d be back soon so you were sure you could get away with that excuse.

mingyu arrives at 2pm on the dot as promised. you start to carry the boxes out. he carries the other two effortlessly and follows behind you. the elevator ride is quiet, with neither of you saying anything. you’re sitting in his car as he drives you to the new house. you look around, all the houses looking more fancy, manicured and elite. that’s when you realize you’re entering the richer part of the neighborhood.

“how’d you manage to get a house here?”, you ask mingyu, knowing the rent or prices would not have been cheap.

“i invested in some land here and once they announced that they’re going to develop this area, the prices skyrocketed and i got rich. i own the house now and i thought it would be nice to finally use it.”, he explains.

“cool”, is all you can say as you look around at all the villas and large houses occupying this space. if anybody lived here, they definitely came from the wealthy and posh side. in hindsight, it was a good cover for you and it would make it easier for you to blend in if you had to pretend to be from a wealthy background.

you finish unloading and unpacking your stuff in the room when mingyu knocks on the door. you both thankfully had separate rooms because there was no way in hell that you were going to share a bed with him. you’d rather sleep on hot coal than do that.

“jeonghan’s finished gathering some documents so i’ll just go over and pick them up. do you wanna come along?”, he asks.

“sure”, you say, because you really didn’t know what you’d do here alone, plus it had been a while since you last saw jeonghan and oh he was a real menace.

“jeonghan!!”, you say upon seeing him, going up to give him a hug. “y/n! it’s been a while huh, you look great”, he says, a small smile on his face.

“that’s not fair, you didn’t give me a hug when you saw me now did you, baby”, mingyu complains.

“what did you just call me?”, you ask, not sure if you’d heard that right.

“baby”, he repeats casually.

“don’t call me that”,

“i have to if we’re going to play a lovely doting husband and wife couple”, he says and you give him a glare, lasers practically shooting out from your eyes.

“we’re not playing husband and wife right now so watch your mouth, mingyu”, you warn and he just shrugs as you fix your attention back on jeonghan.

“it hasn’t even been 24 hours and you guys are already arguing? i just hope you survive the mission and don’t rip each other’s throats by the end of this”, jeonghan says, amused.

“speaking about that, here’s your marriage certificate. i made it so you’ve both been married for a year and a half, less suspicious that way”, jeonghan explains. “oh, and i also sneaked you both an invite to a party hosted by yeonjun. it’ll be a good opportunity to gather connections and intel. it’s tomorrow night”, jeonghan adds as he hands you the invitations.

“damn how’d you manage that?”, you ask. “i have my ways, you should know that by now y/n. i'm the man who can get away with anything”, he replies giving you a wink. you chuckle at his words. “how could i forget, you’re called a menace for a reason”, you tease, laughing along with him.

“and i’m still working on getting the invite for the auction, it should be done in a few days”. jeonghan later says and you both leave after chatting a bit more.

that night you lay in bed, barely managing to fall sleep. the hours fly by and you check your appearance in the mirror one last time before stepping out of the room. you’d worn a simple black dress and just lightly styled your hair. you didn’t want to go overboard since this wasn’t the actual mission, so you kept it pretty but to a minimum, but still enough to make it look like you were wealthy and could blend into the crowd at tonight’s party.

“are you ready? we’ll be late”, you say, calling out to mingyu who was in his room.

you hear the shuffle of his shoes as you do a quick check of your small handbag – tissues, lip gloss, phone and most importantly, a pocket knife. when you look back up, mingyu is staring at you.

“what? hurry up, we haven’t got all day”, you add, walking to the front as you slip into a pair of matching black heels. you know our cover when we’re out yeah?”, mingyu asks as he comes up to you.

“yup, we just moved in the neighborhood, you’re an ER doctor, and i’m a lovely housewife who spends her time shopping, relaxing and spending your money”, you say with a fake smile.

“but do you even know anything about being a doctor, you better not mess up if someone asks you medical terms and shit”, you say, pointing a finger at him.

“don’t go underestimating my skills y/n, i’ve got it covered”

“you better”, you snap back, walking ahead of him towards the door.

the party is high in security but you make it through without a hassle. you had gone through the files seokmin had sent on the people attending and memorized everyone’s name, face, job, and even what they eat for dinner. you had to know everything in order to blend in. you step out of the car and mingyu offers you his hand to hold onto. you smile and take it because you do have to act. you put on your friendly face and enter the party, your eyes scanning the crowd. you spot a few people you recognise from the files you’d read last night, the connections forming in your head. just then mingyu sees someone and whispers that’ll he’ll be back, parting ways with you and you’re left alone.

you take this chance to mingle with the other women that you spot in a corner – who were all your new neighbors. this was a good time to introduce yourself, so you walk towards them and smile.

“hello!”, you say brightly and they turn around to look at you. one of them seems to recognize you and smiles.

“hi! you’re new to the area, right? i saw you moving in the other say”, she says.

“yes, i just moved here with my husband”, you explain as a waiter comes by, offering you drinks on a shiny tray. you take one and so do they.

“where’s your husband?”, one of them asks.

“oh, he’s just talking so an acquaintance over there”, you say, looking back as you nudge your head in mingyu's direction.

“what does he do?”, another one asks excitedly upon spotting mingyu in the crowd. you already knew what they were thinking at the way they were looking at him.

“he’s a doctor, he works in the ER”, you tell.

“oh you poor thing. he must be working late often”, she adds and just then you feel a hand wrap around your waist and the whiff of cologne in the air.

“hello ladies, i don’t think i’ve introduced myself. i’m mingyu, nice to meet you”, he says and all the ladies smiles, shamelessly checking him out. but like you cared.

“your wife was just telling us that you work at the ER, it must be tiring, coming home late every day. i’d hate if my husband came late every day”, one of the women says in mock pity.

but mingyu only smirks. “i may come home late, but i always make it up to you in bed, don’t i baby”, he says, looking at you and you almost choke on your drink.

you clear your throat, changing the topic, and all the ladies giggle. after you finally manage to separate from them, you walk around, assessing the situation.

“i can see a lot of people from soyeon’s side”, you say and mingyu agrees. ”jihyo’s here too”, he adds. she was the it woman in business right now and she was rising up the ranks quickly. “jihyo is definitely going to be at the auction”, you add. “should i get friendly with her?”, you ask and mingyu thinks for a few seconds before answering.

“be careful, if you approach her suddenly she might be wary”, he says softly. “you’re not drinking?” you ask, noticing how his glass has gone untouched. “gotta drive us back, so no, i won’t be drinking tonight”. of course, you had forgotten about that. at least he had some manners, unlike seungcheol.

after managing to gather enough intel and make some connections, you and mingyu decide to retire for the night. you both walk out hand in hand and just then your stomach growls. you were hungry, you hadn’t eaten anything there, not wanting to get distracted and also maybe drinking that glass of champagne on an empty stomach wasn’t such a good idea.

“hungry? we can grab something on the way”, mingyu prompts.

you see a mcdonalds’ drive-thru on the way back and tell mingyu to stop by there. “you don’t want real food?”, mingyu asks. “what do you mean, this is real food”, you declare.

“do you eat this often?”, he asks.

“that is none of your business, just get me some nuggets, fries, and a mcflurry”, you say.

he doesn’t get anything, saying he’ll make himself something at home and you don’t complain. you offer him a nugget and some fries but he declines, just driving as he tells you to not spill anything as you munch on the nuggets.

“i’m sure i can make better nuggets than that”, mingyu finally speaks.

“good for you mingyu, i don’t care”, you say, plopping the last bite of nugget into your mouth.

“yeah i’m sure you’ll start caring when i make you breakfast tomorrow and then you’ll never want to eat anything else, only something i’ve cooked”, he boasts.

“is that so? you’re going to spoil me, looking forward to it”,you add, going back to your mcflurry.

the next morning, mingyu does in fact get up early and makes breakfast for the both of you. it would be a lie to say that it wasn’t good, it was actually the best thing you had eaten in a while. over the course of the next week and the days building up to the auction, you attend a few more events together, getting to know more people and making connections. you make yourself friendly with the neighboring women and go shopping together. with all the new intel gathered each time, you pass it over to seokmin.

mingyu and you stop by the safehouse again to collect the invitation to the auction that jeonghan finally got and to update seungcheol on the mission’s progress. you both had somewhat managed to get along…well, almost. if mingyu didn’t make some snarky comment or say something to get on your nerves once in a while it would be better, but he should just be grateful he was alive right now. the urge to strangle mingyu was immense.

“what’s the progress?”, seungcheol asks.

“it’s good. we know for a fact that jihyo is attending the auction and maybe some people from soyeon’s team might attend on her behalf”, mingyu tells.

“im glad you guys seem to be getting along”, seungcheol tells, surprised.

“barely, i need to tell him to shut up and not spew stupid stuff, it really gets on my nerves. and please tell him to stop walking around the house shirtless. it’s damaging to my eyes ”, you complain.

“i didn’t even do anything, i’m just looking out for her well-being, she has some really peculiar habits and also it’s hot? and it’s literally my house? i can do whatever i want”, mingyu defends.

“excuse me?”, you cut him

“you heard her mingyu”, seungcheol directs your words to him. and just then seokmin and jeonghan enter.

“here’s the auction invitation, keep it safe”, he says, handing it to mingyu.

“here’s how the painting looks. it’s called the great fields done by the 18th-century artist lily lee. it’s been hidden away from the public eye for twenty eyes and it’s supposed to be one of her best paintings. it’s worth billions from what i know”, seokmin explains as he shows us a picture of the painting. it was pretty indeed but it was weird why it had been hidden away for so long.

“i already have someone working on the knock-off for the painting”, he adds.

“it better be a damn good knock-off”, seungcheol warns, raising his eyebrows.

“it will be. the guy i asked will get it down to every detail and even mimic each brushstroke. the historians wouldn’t even be able to tell a difference”, seokmin assures.

“good. now y/n, i have a small task for you, it would be great if you can complete it by tonight. it’s for a high-priority client and i’ll pay you extra”, seungcheol says.

“sure, what do i need to do?”

and that’s how you were now on the balcony of a 7th-floor apartment, trying to break in by unlocking the window. the guy you had to kill was a traitor. he took money from innocent people and then threatened them. he was getting in the way of business for the client so he had to go…forever. you opened the window and jumped in, landing soundlessly on your feet as you crouched down, scanning the room. you didn’t like to drag things out so you were going to make this quick.

you hear the hiss of a shallow breath and you quickly realize you’re not alone. someone else is here. you turn around and hide in the corner, peeking out and that’s when a man comes lunging at you with a knife. you dodge and grab his arm, twisting it as you push him against the wall, the knife falling from his hands as you bang his head against the wall. he grunts in pain and falls to the floor and you quickly move to locate the target, who’s heard all the commotion and is coming downstairs. he sees you and his eyes widen as he turns around and starts to run back upstairs. you run after him, placing your foot in the door before he can close and lock it. you push the door with all your strength, willing it to open and he stumbles backward. you waste no time in getting out your gun and shooting him in the chest. the silencer on your gun made sure no sound was heard as he fell to the ground with a thud, clutching his chest and gasping for air as blood oozed out of the wound, staining the wooden floor crimson red.

but just then, something hits you on the back of your head with a sudden force and you clutch your head in pain, falling to your knees as you try to look up. you grit your teeth and get up, dodging the other attack but your head is still ringing from the hit. you see how the man grabs the near-empty wine bottle and smashes it against the wall, creating a sharp glass shard, almost like a dagger. you get up as he attacks, swiftly trying to move out of the way. unfortunately, you end up tripping on the carpet that folded over and you miss the way his other hand lunges out, and the sharp glass shard pierces into your skin, just over your waist as it drags along your lower abdomen, digging into your flesh. you hiss in pain and raise your gun, aiming at his leg as you shoot him and he yells out in pain and falls down. after you torture him a little and find intel on him and who sent him before putting a bullet straight through his head.

fifteen minutes later, you kick his body, adjusting the position and plant information in the room and his phone to look like this was done by his employees who were tired of his threats and doing all the dirty work for him. you climb out the window and use the window ledges to climb down. you discard your coat in your bag and cover yourself with another coat, adjusting your outfit before walking out of the alleyway and onto the sidewalk. you walk straight ahead, not looking back. the dull pain of the stab starting to sting as you walk as you clutch your coat tightly around you.

you reach back home, ignoring mingyu in the kitchen as you go straight to your room, the door slamming unintentionally behind you.

“y/n?”, mingyu calls out. you ignore him and go to the bathroom and locking the door, sitting down against the bathtub as you lift your shirt up to access the wound. it was a deep cut no doubt, thankfully no vital organs had been hit. you don’t know if you should say that you were lucky or if the bastard just had terrible aim. but the cut was messy and well bloody.

“are you ignoring me now?”, you hear mingyu shout out. he knocks on the bathroom door.

“y/n what happened?”, he asks, a sudden shift in his tone.

“nothing i’m fine mingyu, i can’t use the bathroom in peace?”, you counter.

“stop lying, i saw the drops of blood trailing to your room. open the door now”, he demands.

you sigh. why did he have to be so aware of his surroundings. talk about occupational hazards.

“i’m fine mingyu, stop overreacting”, you say, not hearing a reply, thinking he must’ve left.

after a minute, you hear the door lock rattle and unlock, mingyu pushing the door open and once his eyes land on you they darken.

“what the fuck, mingyu? i could have been naked, you can’t just barge in like that”, you say, annoyed and shocked.

“i can if it’s an emergency and did you forget i have the keys baby, this is my house so my rules”, he counters as he walks over to you and sees you cover the wound with your hand. not that it helps because your hand is all bloody too.

“shit baby, you’re bleeding bad”, he tells, kneeling down so he could match your height so he can acess the wound, seeing the blood ooze out from the side of your palm as you pressed against the cut, trying to put some pressure on it.

you glare at him at the mention of that stupid nickname. “i told you not to call me that and i don’t need your help”, you grit out, pushing his hand away when he moves to help you.

“you either take my help like a good girl or you can shut up, your choice sweetheart”, he says, staring you down.

and before you can even protest or say anything, he’s lifting you off the edge of the bathtub and sitting you down on the countertop beside the sink.

“are you deaf? i said i can manage on my own, i don’t need your help mingyu”, you say, trying to move but the movement causes pain to shoot up through your left side, making you let out a soft whimper of pain.

mingyu wastes no time in fetching the medical kit and his hand is already moving to lift you shirt so he can see the wound. you side-eye him as you lift the shirt, bunching it at your ribs.

“you’re so annoying”, you mumble as he assesses the wound.

“you should look at yourself in the mirror”, he says, making you lean back a bit so he could see the cut fully. you hiss in pain when the disinfectant comes in contact with your skin, biting your lip as it burns. this was the one thing you could never get used to.

“ow, just make sure there are no tiny glass pieces”, you mumble and he snaps his head up. “glass?”, he asks and your nod confirms his suspicions. he takes his time, making sure no tiny shards of glass are left as he cleans your wound. you close your eyes as he cleans the cut and wipes away all the blood, but your heavy breathing wasn’t helping, making a little blood seep out every time you took a breath in and out.

“relax baby”, he coos, his hands resting on your thighs as he looks at you, standing between your legs as he discards another piece of bloody cotton to the side.

“i would if you just left me alone”, you snap out.

he rolls his eyes. “you’re so stubborn, it’s infuriating”, he says, leaning closer

“i could say the same thing about you, you’re so fucking irritating”, you answer back.

“i really don’t know why you’re acting like an idiot when i’m trying to help you”

“i never asked for your help did i, mingyu?”

“so what? i’m doing a favor and being nice”

“by helping me when i said i didn’t want your help”, you emphasise, as you move up to sit up straighter, not realizing how close you had ended up getting to him.

“just stay still”, he demands and you don’t bother talking back this time as he cleans up the cut.

“whoever did this, i’ll kill him”, he mutters as he wraps a gauze around your waist to cover the cut.

“already did”, you confirm and wince a little as he tightens the gauze.

“there, you’re all set”, he says once he’s done, looking at you, and he’s still so close. your gaze flickers down to his lips before flickering to the side. maybe a part of you hated him because of how attractive you found him…god. you didn’t want to make things unnecessarily complicated. it was easier to hate him than admit he had an effect on you.

you’re walking back home after just killing someone (yet another side assingment seungcheol put you on) when you notice a car following you from behind. shit. did they place someone to guard the house? you had to think quickly and shake off the tail otherwise things would get complicated. but then the car speeds up and honks, the window opening, and to your horror, it’s mingyu. what the hell was he doing here?

“what are you doing here?”, you nearly shout. “were you stalking me?”

“i’ll explain later, but get in”, mingyu says.

“i can get home myself thank you. i need to stop by somewhere too”, you say, which was a lie. you just didn’t want to listen to him given you weren’t playing house right now.

“it’s going to rain”, he adds, as you start walking and he follows you with the car.

“it’s not going to rain mingyu”, you say, walking ahead, ignoring him.

and not even a minute later, you feel the first few drops of rain fall on you. dammit.

“see, i told you it was going to rain”, he says.

“i have an umbrella, i’ll manage, just go”, you tell, annoyed that he was right.

you pretend to look in your bag because, of course, you don’t have a fucking umbrella. the rain starts to pour down heavier and if you don’t make a choice now, you were going to get drenched.

“i know you don’t have an umbrella, y/n, so stop being stubborn and get in the fucking car”, he yells louder, getting impatient.

you stop and look at him. “did you just yell at me?”, you ask, narrowing your eyes at him.

he rolls his eyes and sighs. “you’re so stubborn god, what are you going to lose by getting in the damn car. you’re already getting soaked,” he adds.

“ask me nicely”, is all you say as you stare back at him, challenging him.

“y/n get in the car because it’s raining”, he says giving you a fake smile too.

“you didn’t say please”, you add and he sighs, gripping the steering wheel harder.

“y/n please get in the car”, he repeats and you shoot him a small satisfied smile as you open the door and get in the car.

“okay now care to explain why you were following me?”, you tell.

“care to explain why you’re so damn stubborn?”, he counters.

“i am not stubborn, stop being an ass and just tell me why you were following me”, you say.

“i’m the ass? like you weren’t acting like one by not getting in the car”, he says making you scoff.

“fuck you, mingyu”, you sneer, looking out the window as the rain poured harder. the rest of the car ride is silent but you’re glad. if you had to talk to him for another minute right now you’d end up strangling him on the spot.

the rest of the few weeks goes by with you going to a few more events to socialize and familiarize yourselves with the environment, the people and also gather valuable information and intel. mingyu and you seem to play the husband-wife role pretty convincingly. you both come back home late that night but you barely manage to sleep. since you were up early, you decide to hit the gym. one of the perks of this house was that it had a fully equipped gym room, courtesy of mingyu of course.

when you enter the room, you quickly realise you’re not alone and mingyu was there too. great. you were almost going to exit but you catch yourself. you didn’t do anything wrong, so why run? you walk in to see mingyu doing some pull-ups. his back was to you but you’re sure he noticed your presence - of course he did. you watch as he does a few more pull-ups, the muscles on his back and arms flexing with each move.

“stop ogling me”, mingyu’s voice floats in the room, breaking the silence.

“im not ogling you, gross”, you scoff, disgusted. “i thought seungcheol told you to stop walking around shirtless”, you add, giving him a look.

“relax, baby, i’ll put on a shirt later, i know you’re enjoying the view”, he smiles back as he jumps down and turns to face you. asshole.

“yeah, right”

“you were literally ogling me right now”, he deadpans.

“I WAS NOT! stop calling it that. i was just assessing where i need to strike first in order to kill you, you know, for research purposes”, you snap back, only for him to smirk back at you.

“yeah? i’ll choose to believe that little lie for now but i’d like to see you try”, he provokes, walking closer to you.

“oh yeah? i’d love to. the moment this operation is done, i’ll be coming for you, so you better watch your back”, you tell, playing along as you cross your arms across your chest.

“hm, whatever you say, baby”, he says, stepping closer until he’s towering over you. you look up at him and stare back. not that pet name again. you told him countless times not to call you that, it was infuriating, but he just didn’t get it, did he? he needed to be taught a lesson. in a blink of an eye, you grab your knife which you kept concealed and grab mingyu’s arm, swinging him so his back hits the wall with a thud, the cold metal of the knife to his neck.

“if you call me baby one more time, i swear i will actually strangle and kill you”, you threaten, staring right up at mingyu. mingyu’s surprised and amused. it would be a lie to say he didn’t find you hot right now.

“always carry a knife around with you?”, he prompts, raising his eyebrow.

you smile, leaning closer to him as you whisper in his ear. “it’s my favorite one, it’ll slice your neck and you wouldn’t even know it until you’re choking and gasping on the floor”, you tell.

“yeah, baby? i can’t wait to see you try”, he whispers back, his hands grabbing your waist, spinning you, his other hand reaching up to hold both your hands up by the wrist, pinning you to the wall. you try to move but his grip was solid.

“so, how are you going to kill me now?”, he mocks, pushing you against the wall, his body pressing against yours. he looks at you, his nose almost brushing against yours.

“i could maybe snap your neck right now or still slice your neck, your choice”, you say, blinking up at him innocently.

“yeah? care to show me how?”, and so you do, bringing your leg up to knee him in the shin, swiftly wrapping your arm around his shoulder as you kick his feet, making him lose his balance. you push him down and knock him to the ground and he falls on his back. he’s lucky he lands on the foam mattress that was on the side and you waste no time in bending down and straddling him, holding your knife to his neck, and adding a little pressure this time for fun.

“any last words?”, you ask and he just smiles up at you.

“i’ll spare you for now because we have a mission to complete”, you add, getting up as you push off him but he grabs you, flipping you over in the blink of an eye so that he’s hovering over you now.

“i take it you want me to stab you anyway?”, you ask, the knife still strong in your grip.

“why do you hate me so much?”, he asks, looking down at you, his body caging yours.

“you really want to know?”,

“im so curious”, he tells lowly.

“because you’re so fucking cocky about everything and too full of yourself”, you tell, looking up at him. “and you’re an idiot who only thinks he’s handsome and just everything about you is infuriating”, you spit.

“really? i think you forgot to add the part where you have a small crush on me?”, he adds with a smirk and you’ve had enough. you place your hands on his chest and push him off you, sitting up.

“that’s the biggest lie i’ve ever heard”, you say.

“i just know it baby…oops i mean, y/n”, he says, getting up to fetch his bottle of water as he walks to the side.

“but you did just call me handsome”, he points out as he takes a sip of water.

“i did not”, you grit out. “and i do not have a crush on you. if you were the last man on earth i would gladly die single”, you grit out.

“lies, you spew such lies, y/n”, he says, laughing.

the next morning you see mingyu in the kitchen and he smiles, fucking smiles at you.

“i was expecting you to sneak into my room last night and-“ “slit your throat? oh yeah i was so tempted but i thought that would be too painful”, you tell innocently.

“or you’re just scared to do it”, he says.

“i think you forget i’m a trained assassin. i know more than 20 ways to kill a man so you should be careful. you should start by hoping i didn’t poison the coffee you’re drinking right now”, you say before turning and walking away.

you hear him chuckle but it fades away after a few seconds. “wait…you didn’t really spike my coffee right…y/n…”, mingyu asks and you smirk to yourself, not giving him an answer as you make your way back to your room. 1 for y/n, 0 for mingyu.

things are starting to get serious now. it’s two days before the big event and you have a meeting at the safehouse with seungcheol, dokyeom, dino and vernon, who are all going to help you in pulling this off by working behind the scenes. seokmin told you that he’ll get you the knock-off painting in a van that evening and dino would help assist you while vernon be there to hack the security systems and cameras when needed.

the plan was that you’d leave to the auction and watch around. you’d have to make a few bids too, so you’d blend in and seungcheol had given you the money so you were free to bid on anything you liked. then there was a 45-minute break between and it was in that break that you had to steal the painting without getting caught. dino would be waiting down in a van, pretending he was a driver and he’d take off with the painting. the only thing left was pulling this off. with the level of security that this event was going to have, you needed to do everything right to pull this off. you were excited.

it's finally d-day. you’re getting ready in your room, due to leave in 15 minutes. you spent the entire day figuring out what to wear. it was a posh event, so you had to wear something pretty, something that would make heads turn, something that would make me look like you fit in there - something exquisite. you decided to go buy a dress earlier because you didn’t have anything fancy to wear with you, since you’d left most of those types of dresses back home, only bringing essentials along when you moved in with mingyu for the time being. you ended up buying a pretty sweet and head turning dress, something fancy in your favourite color too. it was a maroon, satin dress, which went all the way down to the floor. there was a slit for the leg that stopped just short of your thigh. the highlight of the dress was the back – it was backless, with a criss-cross strap that had to be tied. the only problem, you couldn’t seem to reach back to tie it tight enough that it wouldn't unravel during the night.

you wore your heels - white glitter ones to contrast the red dress. you checked your makeup in the mirror one last time and tried to tie the strings on your back again but you couldn’t seem to get the crisscross pattern right and you were struggling to tie it up. just then you hear a knock on your door.

“y/n are you ready? we have to leave in five minutes”, mingyu says from outside.

“okay!”

and five minutes later, you’ve given up, groaning as you bring your arms down, knocking your arm on the table in the process. “ouch”, you say in frustration and mingyu knocks on your door again.

“y/n? are you okay?”, he asks again, opening the door slightly. you get up to open the door and mingyu looks at you. you watch as his eyes rake all over your body as checks you out. you stare back at his face and he’s still staring at you, his eyes moving over every part of your body. you ask him something but he doesn’t reply, still staring, devouring you with his eyes as he takes you in.

“finished eye fucking me?”, you ask, annoyed, bringing his attention back to you. he looks at you and smirks. “i wasn’t done but i can continue later”, he teases.

“whatever, can you help me tie my dress in the back? i just can’t seem to reach it”, you ask him and he stands up straighter and you realize this wasn’t the sort of question or help he was expecting you to ask.

“sure”, is all he says and you turn around, holding your hair up so mingyu could tie your dress.

“you have to crisscross it and then tie it”, you explain, looking at his reflection in the mirror in front of you.

as he ties your dress, his fingers rub your bare back occasionally, sending sparks all over you body. he pulls back the threads to make them tight. you watch from the mirror as he tries his best to carefully tie it. he looked…so fucking good tonight. the suit was tailor made for him, making him look crisp and sharp. you’d have to painfully admit that he did indeed look hot tonight but you catch yourself and swat those thoughts and any other intruding thoughts away immediately. you’re about to move a bit forward when he pulls back again, securing the knot, and then his eyes find yours in the mirror reflection.

“you look gorgeous”, he whispers against your ear, making a shiver run down your spine.

“i know, thanks for the confirmation though”, you say, not willing to be swayed by his comment and how much he seemed to be affecting you right now.

“let’s go steal a painting”, you say with a smirk.

you drive to the event, and somehow mingyu managed to snag a limo to the event. don’t ask how, it was probably seungcheol’s doing but now you’re driving there. you put your in-ears on for further communication with mingyu and the others on the mission. woozi had designed it so it look like an ear cuff, making it look less suspicious on you. mingyu’s was transparent in the front, so it blended in.

“relax”, mingyu says after a few minutes of silence in the car as he sits opposite you.

“i am relaxed”

“you look tense”

“i’ve stolen plenty of stuff before so this is a piece of cake”, you tell.

“we got this”, he assures.

you reach the venue and get down, mingyu offering you his hand as you step out of the car. you take it and you automatically wrap your arm around his as you both walk in together. you stand behind a few people, all waiting to move inside and everyone is holding the same invitation you are holding. when it’s finally your turn, mingyu shows the person your invites and after scanning it for a few seconds he hands it back to us, telling us to enjoy our time here. you’re handed a number picket from the counter the moment you enter, for you to make bids.

the auction starts in an hour since people are still coming. most of the vvip and vip guests coming later for security reasons. you walk to the hall and scan the crowd for anyone you know or can recognize. mingyu does too. you agree to split up and scan the hall so it would be faster, mingyu going left while you go right. after you’ve confirmed who’s coming and who’s yet to come, cross checking with the guest list that you’ve memorized that jeonghan managed to get his hands on. there were still a few guests and vips left to arrive. all the vvips or vips who did arrive were on the other side of the hall, with higher security. jihyo hadn’t arrived yet and you couldn't see anyone from soyeon’s team either. but you did spot hwasa; she had multiple businesses and was a trendsetter. anything she touched, ate or wore was sold out, she was that good, and everyone loved her. it was going to be interesting to see what she bids for here.

after gathering all the information you needed, you’re turning around when a man bumps into you.

“oh, im so sorry”, he says, turning around.

“it’s no problem”, you say, putting your hand up. he looks at you again, shamelessly checking you out and you roll your eyes as you turn to walk away again, but he grabs your hand.

“wait, i don’t think i’ve seen you around, are you new here?”, he asks, hopeful, but you had no interest in entertaining him.

“yeah, i just moved here”, you say, quickly, pulling you hand out of his grip. “i have to go”, you add.

“see you at the auction? which number are you, i’ll try to sit at your table”, he asks, getting desperate.

“that’s all right, im fine”, you say again, trying your best to be nice.

“come on, don’t be shy”, he adds with a chuckle. “girls are usually falling all over me”, he adds, maybe not liking how you were not falling for his tricks.

“can’t let beautiful women like yourself be alone at an event like this, can i? which table will you be seated at? i can show you around if you like”, he asks again and now you’re really starting to get irritated. you would have knocked him out by now if this was any other circumstance but you hold back, not wanting to cause a scene or mess anything up.

you’re about to say something when you feel a warm hand encircle your waist and from the smell of the cologne, you already know who it is – mingyu.

“there you are baby, i was looking for you”, he says sweetly, kissing your cheek as he pulls you closer to him. there’s a hint of possessiveness in his voice as he looks at the man who was talking to you.

“who’s this?”, mingyu asks, looking at you, his grip getting tighter around your waist.

“oh i’m sorry i just bumped into her and was apologizing”, the man fills in.

“i see. next time i suggest you watch where you’re going”, mingyu tells, glaring at the guy as he pulls you away, telling you that he wanted you to meet someone.

as you walk, you notice a few heads turn and people look at you but you just ignore it and walk like you belong there. you hear mingyu faintly curse under his breath.

“what?”, you ask

“you shouldn’t have worn that baby, everyone is staring at you”, he grits out lowly, jealousy evident in his voice.

“excuse me? are you sure you’re not the one staring? it doesn’t matter to me, as long as we steal the painting and get the job done”, you say, lifting your dress up slightly as you walk up the stairs to the auction hall.

“that idiot is following us”, he adds, spotting him from his peripheral vision.

“well, that’s annoying, we don’t need him tailing us. should i knock him out and throw him somewhere?”, you ask as you walk, smiling at a few people who welcome us at the top of the stairs.

“i’d have knocked him out myself if i had to but that’s a risky move for now”, he says. we reach the upper floor and mingyu holds your hand as he leads me to the left side of the hall, where there are fewer people. mingyu’s back faces the people as you look ahead.

“is he still looking at us?”, mingyu asks, his back facing the man who was still following you.

“yeah but what do we-“, you’re cut off by mingyu’s hand tilting your chin as he leans in to kiss you, his lips pressed against yours. he pulls away ever so slightly as he looks at you.

“mingyu-", he kisses you again, this time moving his lips against yours and your move my lips too, kissing him back. he pulls away a few seconds later.

“what are you doing?”, you finish your sentence, shocked.

“now look, he’ll be trying to find a new target to woo”, he tells and you look, seeing the man already talking to another group of women, hoping to find a different date.

“worked like a charm”, he says, with a satisfied smirk. and that’s when the action of what mingyu just did hits you, but you decide not to say anything, not wanting to yell at him or draw any more attention to yourself. you’d give him hell about this later.

the auction is about to begin and you find a table to the front, and sit down. you mentally make a note of where a few other vips are sitting and scan the crowd. you spot jihyo in the front, surrounded by a few bodyguards who are off to the side.

“good evening ladies and gentlemen! welcome to the annual auction hosted by the national museum of culture and arts. we are pleased to have you all here. we will be starting the auction and the rules are simple – the highest bidder wins, so have fun. we would also like to mention that part of the funds collected from the auction will be put aside to aid in cultural growth and in preserving national treasures and artifacts. we will also be partnering with Vision to offer scholarships to five students. your contributions will be deeply appreciated.", the host welcomes and explains.

"and the most anticipated part of the night, the beautiful painting ‘the great fields of sorrow’ by lily lee will be unveiled to the public after 20 years. you do not want to miss this, it is truly a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and we are so glad you are all here to witness history in the making. now, let us begin”, the host announces, gleefully.

the auction begins and the first few bids go by fast, people bidding left, right, and center. but it’s towards the end that the most valuable artifacts and paintings start coming out. you have your eye on this one painting, you’d seen it in the auction catalog earlier and you were determined to get it. the moment the painting comes up to be bid, you grab the picket from mingyu and raise you hand, making a bid.

“what are you doing?”, mingyu asks.

“bidding?”, you tell like it wasn’t obvious to mingyu right now.

a few more people bid on the painting but you bid again, raising the bid higher and higher each time. but some women keeps bidding along as well and you weren’t going to lose this. you raise you hand, making the bid higher and now it’s just you and the other woman raising hands as you both try to outbid each other.

“what are you doing? drop it”, mingyu says next to you.

“no, that painting’s mine”, you grit out, raising your hand again to raise the bid. anyone could be able to feel the tension in the room right now.

“y/n, we don’t have that much money to spend, are you crazy?”, he asks, turning towards me.

"i don’t care, i want that”, you tell, raising your hand to make another bid, raising the price impossibly high. people who were bored and had no interest in the auction were suddenly watching us carefully, eager to see who would finally win the bid.

the lady falters, wondering if she should raise the bid and no one else raises their hand to make another bid. you smile to yourself.

“going once”, the man says, hoping the lady would change her mind and raise the bid.

“going twice….and sold”, he declares, the wooden hammer hitting the wooden plate and you’re smiling in victory.

“i won”, you tell mingyu.

“yeah and you better be explaining to seungcheol why his assets suddenly depleted” mingyu tells.

“at least seungcheol would let me have it, unlike you, sitting here and complaining, it’s so annoying”, you add, clicking your tongue.

“you’re the annoying one”, he says without missing a beat and you kick his leg from under the table, giving him a fake smile. “shut up and don’t get on my nerves”, you tell through gritted teeth, making a few heads turn. you clear your throat and sip on your champagne, smiling at the few people who turn to look at you.

that was the last bid and the auction had now ended. people start getting up to either grab a drink and talk or to go make arrangements to collect their paintings or artifacts that they just bought. this was indeed a good way you could sneak the real painting out. you quickly intercom with dino and you coordinate with him, vernon listening in too so he’d know which cameras to hack and take down.

“we should go, we have only 45 minutes before the painting is revealed”, you tell, getting up and walking out to the outer hall. there is music playing and someone is singing. the host announces that people can dance if they like and a few people do, couples peppered across the floor as they dance and sway together. you steer right away from the crowd and start moving downstairs when mingyu grabs your hand, blocking your path.

“care to dance?”, he asks.

“no i don’t dance”, you tell but mingyu ignores you and holds your hand as he guides you to the hall where the crowd was, choosing a quiet corner and pulling you closer to him, his hand resting on your waist as his other hand is intertwined in yours.

“mingyu i said i don’t want to dance”, you tell, slightly annoyed.

“i know, but i do”, he says and you find yourself moving closer to him as your rest your other hand on his shoulder, trying not to bump into the person behind you. you both sway to the soft music that plays and mingyu locks eyes with you, a small smile playing on his face and you don't realise how close you've gravitated towards him.

“we’re wasting time, let’s go”, you tell after two minutes.

“a little fun never hurt, you need to learn to let loose a little, sweetheart”, he tells, looking at you and you don’t miss the way his gaze flickers down to your lips.

“but you really should have worn something else”, he whispers near your ear. “i’m starting to get jealous at the way all the other guys are starting at you."

"it's a pretty sweet outfit isn't it”, you say softly and the the corner of his mouth lifts into a faint smile.

“hm let’s go”, he says, pecking your cheek as he intertwines his hand in yours. you walk down together and walk towards the restrooms. when the path looks clear, you take a detour to the staff room, which would give you access to the basement and other private areas of the building. jeonghan had given you copies of the access key too, so you could now slip into any room you liked without having to break any alarms.

you’d already memorized the layout of the room and knew exactly where the safe room would be located.

“you brought a gun right?”, you ask.

“what do you think baby, of course, i did”, he answers raising his brow. it was hidden using a chip that emitted waves and would not be picked up by any electronic scanner, which is how it got sneaked in successfully. another one of woozi’s genius creations. you reach the safe room but there were two guards up ahead.

“vernon, can you hack the walkie-talkies? tell the guards to move to the upper level”, you ask.

“on it”, vernon responds immediately and in two minutes the guards start walking away and turning around the corner.

you run up and unlock the door using the key card, opening the door and quickly shutting it behind you. you unlock another door and finally head inside the safe room, where the painting and other treasures were stored.

the painting is easy to find, it’s kept in a bulletproof glass box but that’s when you realise something is wrong.

the painting is bigger. it’s not the same size seokmin had told you. you panic because this would now hold you back and you had to think on your feet to figure something out quickly.

“what the fuck?”, you tell. “how are we supposed to discreetly steal this huge painting?”, you almost yell at mingyu who’s looking at you, confused as well.

“i don’t know, we just take it and walk out”,

“and let everyone know we stole it, mingyu? that’s just genius. why don’t we just announce it to the whole world then”, you yell back, annoyed.

“i thought seokmin told us it was going to be smaller? this isn’t the same size he mentioned”, you tell, running a hand through your hair.

“i think he forgot to add one digit in the dimensions”, mingyu tells and you mentally face-palm yourself.

“so now what do you want me to do?”

“i don’t know just take it and we place the decoy and leave”

“the decoy isn’t even the same fucking size mingyu”, you yell, getting impatient.

“fuck”, he curses under his breath. “let’s just take the painting and go”,

“how do i just take it, mingyu? do you want me to shove this painting up my ass and leave? how the hell are we going to walk out with it? didn’t you tell dino was waiting down in the van? how can we possibly walk with this huge painting all the way to the basement and give it to dino without anyone seeing us and not put the knock-off.”, you tell, getting more and more impatient with each passing second.

“jesus, y/n im trying to figure it out so please calm down”, mingyu snaps back.

“is everything okay?”, vernon’s voice fills your ear.

“wait guys, seokmin just told me that he has the proper decoy size in the van downstairs”, vernon tells after a few minutes of silence.

“wait what do you mean?”, you ask.

“he just told me saying he put the correct decoy painting size in the van, and that he realized he’d messed up the dimensions and got it remade. he said his printer had ran out of ink and missed printing one digit”, vernon explains calmly.

“then send it in, we have like 20 minutes before the painting gets showcased!”, you yell at vernon.

“dino’s on his way with it, just hold on”, vernon assures, going back to intercom with dino.

meanwhile, you and mingyu try to figure out how to unlock the box. the box had a passcode and three wrong tries and it would alarm the security, so you had to be careful. woozi had given you a decoder which mingyu had hidden outside and you grabbed on the way to the safe room. mingyu attaches the decoder and you watch as the numbers scramble, trying to decode the pin and unlock the box.

“what’s taking so long”, you groan, clicking your tongue.

“y/n calm down. we’re fine”, mingyu says as he locks eyes with you.

“if seokmin hadn’t realized we’d have been fucked over big time mingyu, do you understand? we could have gotten caught. do you understand how big of a fucking problem that could have been? and you’re acting all high and mighty asking me to just take this painting and go like it won’t be so fucking obvious that it’s not the same painting. and dino needs to hurry up because there are only ten minutes left, and we need to take this and transport it all before they come in to take the painting out to display, so we’re short on-", you’re cut off by mingyu’s hands cupping your cheek as you feel his soft lips on yours, again.

“you really need to shut up sometimes”, he mumbles against your lips. maybe it was because you were in the heat of the moment, but you kiss mingyu back, grabbing him by his tie to pull him closer, closing the gap between you both.

“guys?”, vernon’s voice fills my ear through the in the ear but you both ignore him. “dino’s almost there”, he adds but none of you bother to reply, too busy kissing each other.

the safe door opens and closes in silence and dino steps into the room. (it had a anti slam and quiet door so it would be discreet and safe)

“i hope i’m not interrupting something?”, dino asks, making you break away from the kiss and the look on dino’s face is mischievous.

“n-no"." shit.

"did you get the proper knock off? hurry up we have to be out of here in ten minutes”, you tell, pushing mingyu off you and walking up to the box, which had successfully unlocked.

dino handles the real painting carefully, wearing a pair of cloth gloves before taking out the painting from the box with care and placing it on the wearable rack, and replacing it with the knockoff that he streathly managed to bring here; courtesy to vernon for hacking the camera footage and security walkie talkies. if you were asked to play spot the difference between the real painting and the fake one, you wouldn’t have been able to guess shit, the fake one was just that good. dino quickly covers the real painting in a satin white cloth and you quickly walk out. dino disguised as one of the staff and security members, so it would look like he was just taking the painting you had just bought to your car so you could take it home. thankfully the painting you bid on and bought was around the same size too and you bring it along as you leave. no one gives you any suspicious looks as you leave and you walk out with confidence, your arms locked in mingyu's as you both walk together.

you make it back up to the upper level and back to the hall before you take the elevator to the basement. dino loads the painting into the van and he and vernon take off. mingyu and you bounce as well, getting in the limo and telling your driver to take you back home, making the excuse that you weren't feeling to well when someone approached you, asking why you weren’t staying back to see the painting that was going to be revealed shortly.

as soon as you get in the car, you kick off your heels, relief flooding through your feet as you sit. you let out a big sigh and take the chance to open the bottle of champagne that’s in the car, pouring yourself a glass and mingyu one too, offering him the glass.

“to successfully stealing a painting”, you say, raising the glass to make a toast and he smiles. you down the glass in one shot, the adrenaline still pumping in your veins. placing the glass down, you look at mingyu, who’s still watching you.

“what?”, you ask mingyu, who looking at you like he wants something.

“nothing, you’re just…gorgeous”, he says.

“you flatter me too much, mingyu”, you say, getting up to move, picking up your dress slightly as you move to sit on his lap, straddling him. his hands find your waist immediately, pulling you closer against him as your hands rest on his shoulders. his hand cups your cheek as he leans forward to kiss you, moving his lips against yours, slow and long, kissing you like he’s been craving this all along. he deepens the kiss, biting your lower lip teasingly, making you let out a soft moan, your mind too fuzzy to care about what you were doing right now.

“fuck, you’ve been wanting this, haven’t you?”, he groans, kissing your jawline.

“i know you wore this dress on purpose baby, to rile me up”, he says and you kiss him in response and he kisses you back, this time with more vigor and passion.

“maybe”, is all you can say as mingyu’s lips are on yours again.

“i’ve been dreaming about this for so long, to kiss you, to have you”, he groans as he kisses your neck, your eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. your hands busy themselves with loosening his tie and undoing the first few buttons of his shirt.

“look at you, i thought you hated me baby”, he mumbles against your neck.

“i still do”, you tell, your voice coming out breathy and soft as he leaves a trail of kisses along your collarbone, his hands roaming your body, his touch sending shivers and sparks throughout your body.

“what if dino tells on us”, you realise, whispering softly as he continues to leave soft kisses on your neck.

“you’re worried about that baby? worried he’ll run his mouth and tell everyone you were kissing me? the person you claimed you hated?”, he teases, pressing a kiss to the corner of my mouth.

he kisses you again, trailing more kisses to your jawline before his hand reaches over to cup your cheek as he pulls you in, capturing your lips with his again, making butterflies erupt in your stomach. you kiss him back, and somehow you couldn’t seem to get enough, getting dizzy on how he feels and tastes. he was driving you crazy. he pulls you closer against him, his grip on your waist tightening with each kiss and you start to lose track of how long you’ve been at it, making out. thank god for the partition between the driver and you was tinted. the car finally comes to a halt in and mingyu breaks away. “we’re home”.

and just like that, mingyu guides you home and wastes no time in kissing you again once you’re behind closed doors, guiding you to his room while he never breaks away, kissing you breathlessly.

the next morning, you wake up tangled in mingyu’s arms and the events of last night come crashing onto you. you turn around to face mingyu and he lazily pulls you closer to him, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.

“go back to sleep”, he mumbles and you push away a few stray hairs from his face.

“you’re so lazy”, you say, as you move to get out of his arms, but he tightens his grip, not letting you leave.

“don’t make me slit your throat mingyu, let me go”. you say teasingly, poking his arm and he finally loosens up. just then the doorbell rings. you get up and take a peek, seeing seungkwan standing outside. you open the door but the expression on his face tells you that something is wrong.

“what’s wrong?”, you ask, as he steps in.

“dino- he- the painting…dino is…”, seungkwans stutters out, making no sense.

“what happened?” you ask again, putting your hands on seungkwan’s shoulders to try and calm him down.

“dino, he got intercepted by another gang and they’re holding the painting and dino hostage”, seungkwan spills out.

fuck.

after hearing that you waste no time in going back to the safe house with mingyu.

“how’d they contact you? how did they know we were going to be there”, you ask seungcheol. with him are joshua, vernon, seokmin, and hoshi.

“we’re not sure”, seokmin says.

“but what i’m sure of is either they had a tail on you or you told them our location”, seungcheol says, looking at you straight in the eye.

“what the fuck are you implying?”, mingyu defends immediately.

“no i would never do that seungcheol and you know that”, you tell, staring him down.

“how can you even say that”, mingyu adds.

“because they want you in exchange for returning the painting and dino back safely y/n”, seungcheol tells and you pause, trying to process what he just said.

“what?”, is all you can say after a few seconds of silence.

“that’s what they negotiated with seungkwan”, seungcheol tells. “and if you two had responded to vernon then we could have maybe sorted this out earlier. there was no response from the both of you after last night”, seungcheol adds, looking between you and mingyu. you gulp, hoping he can’t possibly guess what you and mingyu were up to last night.

“here are the terms of negotiation”, seungkwan adds, sliding over a piece of paper to you.

if you want to get back your precious painting and friend, do the following. tell anyone or try to pull anything funny, otherwise the only thing you’ll be getting in return is your friend’s dead limp body and a police raid. so, follow the instructions carefully

1) we want the girl in exchange for the painting and your friend

2) come to the abandoned warehouse by the paddy fields tonight at 8:00pm

3) the girl comes alone and that’s it. once she comes, we’ll have the painting and your friend released.

4) no guns, or weapons, and don’t try or even think to act smart in any way unless you want to be responsible for your friend’s death.

the letter was signed off with a stamp of the gang seal, which you faintly recognized for some reason.

“i’ll go”, is all you say because it doesn’t look like you have any other option right now. you didn’t care about the painting but you did care about dino and you had to make sure he’d come back safe.

“there’s no way in hell she’s going alone”, mingyu interjects, cleary upset.

“mingyu, stop it”, you yell at him. who was he to tell you what to do?

“mingyu stop putting your emotions into the mission, we have a problem, and i’m going to deal with it accordingly, or else im putting you out”, seungcheol says.

“what is wrong with you? you’re just going to let them have y/n?”, mingyu asks, getting up, frustrated, running a hard through his already messy hair.

after a few more arguments, things start getting heated between seungcheol and mingyu, seokmin pulls him away from the room and you manage to finish the rest of the conversation with seungcheol. back home, mingyu’s still tense and he hits the gym to try and take off some of his anger and frustration.

you don’t know why he was acting like this to be honest. you could manage perfectly well on your own, it wasn’t like you were going to die or anything. he seemed to be making a big deal about this and it was getting on your nerves. you’re in your room and you can hear the sound and impact of mingyu’s punches on the boxing bag through the walls. what the fuck was he so worked up for? you try ignore the sound and get back to getting ready for tonight.

you know they said no weapons but you weren’t going to go in blind. your pants had a secret pocket where you could hide my small knife easily and it was undetectable. you decide to carry a few more, concealing them in secret pockets so no one would even know. you had everything planned and you weren't going to let the person who took dino off so easily. just then you hear mingyu’s footsteps as he leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. you ignore him, getting up and checking the time. you had to leave in five minutes if you were going to make it there in time. you look at mingyu’s who’s studying you closely.

“what mingyu? stop staring it’s annoying”, you tell, breaking the silence, walking towards the door so you can leave, but he blocks your path.

“you’re not fucking going anywhere y/n”, he grits out.

“what the fuck? who are you to tell me what to do? i know what i’m doing okay and you need to chill out”, you say, trying to push past him but he doesn’t let you.

“mingyu move, im getting late”, you say in a stern voice.

“i’m coming with you then”, he hisses, grabbing you as he pushes you against the wall.

“no you’re fucking not, stay out of this mingyu, it’s none of your business”

“it is because it involves you”, he says, without missing a beat, leaning closer.

“mingyu, don’t let what happened last night make you all soft for me okay, whatever happened just happened. don’t try to use that to determine what our relationship is now”, you say, trying to sound stern but your voice falters a bit when his hands dig into your waist tighter. he crashes his lips into yours, and the kiss is hot and heavy and angry. your lips move on their own, kissing him back, grabbing his arms for support.

“just promise me you’ll come back to me…alive”, mingyu mumbles against your lips.

“are you doubting me?", you scoff but he ignores the threat.

“and the first thing you’re going to do when you come back and see me is that you’re going to kiss me”, he demands.

“that’s so cheesy and cliché”, you tell, rolling your eyes.

“i’m not taking no for an answer”

“fine oh my god, you’re so stupid”, you mumble, kissing him one last time as he lets you go.

you reach the abandoned warehouse on time, with two minutes to spare. you look around but see no one around, the place dark and deserted. you decide to wait and stand outside to see if anyone shows up. after two minutes of waiting, you hear a rustle in the grass, standing alert, only to see a stray dog appear, but it had something in its mouth. the dog drops the things it was holding in front of your and runs off without warning. you carefully bend down to pick up the things, seeing a piece of paper and a black face cover that was meant to cover you entire face.

put on the mask on and be a good girl and wait

you crush the paper and scan your surroundings one more time before putting the mask on. after a few seconds, you realize the mask is laced with something, something strong and it’s too late because you’re already getting dizzy. your hand slips down as you fail to remove the mask and your knees give in as you fall to the ground, unconscious.

you wake up with the mask still over your head and groan, shaking your head, trying to get rid of the dizziness that’s was still lingering.

“she’s awake”, you hear someone say, immediately getting alert.

“call boss”, another voice adds.

you try to move but your hands are bound together tightly with a rope that’s painfully cutting into your wrists. you can faintly make out the light in the room, it must have been dimly lit. you hear a door open and footsteps, as they come closer to you and suddenly, the mask over your face is harshly yanked out. you close your eyes shut at the sudden intrusion of light and look around, trying to gather your surroundings as your eyes adjust to the light. you manage to look up, seeing a figure looming over you.

“hi there pretty girl, remember me?”, he asks menacingly. you blink your eyes as you scan his face, trying to remember who but you don’t.

“who the fuck are you?”, you lash out.

he clicks his tongue in response. “i’m disappointed, i thought you’d remember me after what you did, that’s a shame. but no worries, we still have time”, he says, one of his men dragging a chair and he takes a seat in front of you, leaning forward to get a better look at you, at your state.

“look at you. you’re supposed to be highly skilled right? but here you are, tied up for me to play with. i’m excited”, he tells laughing, a grin forming on his face.

“fuck off, where’s dino”, you spit out and you see the flash of anger that courses through him.

he grabs your face harshly, making you look at him, his hand gripping your jaw.

“behave or else i’ll get angry and slice up your friend. you don’t want that do you?”, he warns, putting pressure on your jaw as he squeezes your cheeks tighter. you squirm in his grip and he finally lets you go, your head hitting the wall in the process.

“where is he?”, you ask again, breathing hard. “i kept up my end of the deal”, you grit out.

“oh i will tell you where he is, but i just want to have a little fun with you before that happens”, he says, a glint in his eyes. he gets up and walks away, saying something to the other men in the room which you don’t quite catch.

that night, you’re alone, only with one guy, whom you assume was supposed to keep an eye on you. you try wriggle out of the rope, and even though it burns, you brush the pain away as the rope digs into your wrist. you smile to yourself once your wrists are free. people really had to learn how to tie secure knots really. you stealthily get up while the guard is pathetically snoring. you roll your eyes and get up, stretching and grabbing a stone from the floor as you walk towards him. he opens his eyes just as you stand in front of him and he doesn’t get the chance to speak as you crash the stone into his skull and he falls to the ground, unconscious. you knocked him hard enough to knock him out but not kill him. you’re eyes have been trained to see in the dark and you make your way across the room, putting your ear to the door to hear for any voices or signs of life. your hands encloses on the doorknob and you slowly turn it, opening it and peeking out. the coast is clear and you step out and, your footsteps silent as you make your way to the end of the hall. the place abandoned so debris and dust was everywhere. after a few steps you faint voices coming towards you and you still against the wall, peeking your ear out to pick up on the conversation.

“how much do you think seungcheol would pay to have her back? i think he’s her most valuable asset”, the voice says, which you recognise as the boss’s voice. “hm let’s see if he wants the painting or her”, another voice chimes in and you furrow your brows. first of all you didn’t need seungcheol protecting you and secondly you were getting pissed at these thugs. you move your foot and knock into something on the floor.

“what was that?”, you hear the voice ask. you mentally curse and get ready to strike, coming out of the shadows and landing a kick right in the chest of one of the thugs. he falls to the ground with a grunt and loud thud.

“oh my, i see you seem to have escaped”, the boss man tells, looking at you, chuckling.

“where’s dino”, you ask, gripping the broken pipe you picked up on your way.

“I think it would be wise to drop that and not do anything stupid, unless you want your friend chopped up in pieces, i’ll glady do it and you know it”, he says, raisng a brow at you.

you study his face and you can tell he would. you’d dealt with enough people in the years you’d taken up this job to be able to read people like a book and this guy was not fooling around when he said he would indeed chop up dino. you grit your teeth as you drop the pipe and it rattles as it hits the ground, echoing in the empty hallway.

“good girl”, he tells condescendingly, smirking, satisfied. “now let’s get you back”, he adds, and this time you’re cuffed in chains, but you’d figure a way to get out.

two days go by and this boss guy is nowhere to be seen. you can tell he’s trying to weaken you by starving you but you could handle this. you’ve been through worse honestly. it’s the third night now and you’re getting impatient and a little tired of this waiting game.

“where the hell is your boss? did i scare him off? ask him to come here right now”, you demand

“he’s busy”, the guard tells, not even bothering to look at you, dismissing you completely.

“busy doing what? chickening out? tell him to come here right now”, you yell and probably because you kept belittling his ‘boss’, you hear him send another man to give the message. and sure enough, a few hours later the boss man comes walking in.

“i hear you were causing a ruckus”, he tells.

“where’s dino”, you demand.

“don’t worry about him. i’d worry about you because”, he says, getting down on one knee to come at eye level with me. “i’m going to take my time killing you slowly”, he says.

“yeah i’d rather enjoy killing you first”, you say.

“you really don’t recognize me, do you? stupid girl”, he spits out.

“uncuff her”, he says, getting up.

“boss but-“

“DO IT”, he shouts, the men cowering and one of them immediately scrambles down to undo the chain on you. as soon as you get free, you leap up, swaying your foot as you kick him down.

“why the fuck should i know who you are”, you say, reaching in your concealed pocket for a knife, but only feeling an empty space instead. there was no knife.

the boss chuckles and looks at you, laughing as he gets up, dusting himself off.

“looking for your precious knives? i thought i said not to bring anything. you thought you could fool me? i think not” he tells, smirking.

“how”, you whisper.

“you’re not the only one who has tricks up their sleeve”, he says in sing song voice, making you narrow your eyes at him.

“i’ve dedicated my whole life to this moment, to seeing you and killing you and you have the audacity to not even remember me”, he sneers, coming closer.

“cloud 9 enterprises, does that name ring a bell?”, he asks, stalking closer to you.

you wrack your brain. cloud 9 enterprises. that name was familiar and that case was famous too. the owner was supposedly making drugs, and disguising them as medication to sell, making people addicted and in plenty of bad ways too. lots of people died, innocent children and adults died because of those drugs he had disguised as a harmless medication. and you remember because you were the one sent to kill him. you look at the man’s face, looking at his features that somehow resemble the man you killed and it hits you.

“you’re his son”, you say.

“bingo”, he says smiling before landing a punch to your gut, making you fall down. “did you know i watched you kill him. i was hiding under his desk as i saw you slit his throat. can you imagine what that does to a child?”, he spits out. “after that day i’ve sworn i would get my revenge and now that i have you, it feels good”, he explains. he kicks you again but you dodge, swinging your leg and tripping him. you kick him again but his men come forward, grabbing you by the arms, holding you back. you thrash in their hold as he gets up. you knee one of the men and get loose but a few more men come forward and hold you down as, pushing you to your knees. he holds his hand out and someone gives him something – a syringe.

“this is a special concoction i made, just for you. i can’t wait to see how long you can last”, he chuckles coming forward and stabbing the syringe in your arm. the stab of the needle is sharp as he pushes the contents of the syringe inside your arm. you thrash even more, angry and they finally let you go. you yell out in frustration and try to land a punch but you miss.

“fuck you, i’ll kill you with my own hands”, you snap out, getting up and looking at him but your vision was playing tricks on you. you shake your head in an attempt to regain yourself and grab a metal stick that was thrown off to the side and jump to hit him, but you miss again. you groan in frustration.

“what did you do”, you shout as you get up, regaining you balance.

“you’ll die a slow painful death, as your organs and body start shutting down. you’ll probably last 36 hours or 48 hours if you manage to pull through”, he tells with a smile, stepping forward and you move to grab his arm, but before you can do anything you feel a sharp piecring pain in your abdomen and he looks at you and smiles as he pushes the knife furthur into you, stabbing you. you whine and yelp as he roughly pulls the knife out.

“how does it feel?”, he asks as you headbut him, not giving up yet. he groans as he pushes you off him, your back hitting the wall as you slump against it. he looks at you angry but chuckles as he looks at your state as he wipes his bloody nose with a cloth. you vaguely hear him say something like “dispose of the body where nobody can find it” and you hear dino’s name too but he’s already out the door.

you try to sit up and stop the bleeding, covering the torn flesh with your palms, and applying pressure to stop the bleeding. you’d managed to tear a part of your long sleeve shirt and use that to tie up the wound, putting the knot tight to somehow slow down the bleeding. you try to move and locate an escape route. there is a window but it’s too high up with no way for you to get to it unless you managed to move the stack of old wooden boxes. but in your state, you don’t think you could.

you don’t know when you fell asleep, it was probably the effect of whatever the drug he had injected you with. you sit awake, pain shooting through your abdomen in the process. the cloth you tied around is now soaked in blood and it’s starting to pool next to you. your hand is heavy as your try to lift it up and tear off your other sleeve to wrap it around the area.

in the far distance, gunshots can be heard and an angry and determined man is making his way into the hideout. “where the hell is she?”, mingyu shouts, the gun digging into the skull of a man who’s on his knees, his hands cuffed behind his back. his henchmen are all knocked out and scattered on the floor.

“she’s probably half dead by now”, he says, smiling, showing no remorse. this riles up mingyu even more and he pulls the man up and smashes him against the wall, his hand closing around his neck.

“what did you do?”, he asks, putting pressure on the man’s neck as dino stands behind him with jun.

he only half laughs as he starts to choke. “go find out yourself”, he mumbles and mingyu throws him to the ground and points his gun at him, shooting him point blank in the head, twice.

“mingyu! seungcheol wanted him alive”, jun rasps out, seeing his limp body.

“he was going to kill him any way i just did him a favor”, mingyu tells, only earning a look of disapproval from jun. “i’ll explain it to him”, mingyu adds.

mingyu searches the entire building, looking for you, until he stumbles across a room that’s been locked from the outside, and something familiar glints in the corner – knives, your knives. mingyu grabs a broken-off stone from the side and uses it to break open the lock, hammering down on it till it breaks. the door swings open and he spots you slumped on the floor in the far corner of the room.

“y/n”, he shouts as he rushes towards you and kneels down in front of you. “fuck fuck fuck”, he mumbles as he sees the blood pooling on the side.

your body stirs awake again at the familiar scent of cologne and you open your eyes. mingyu? were you hallucinating? was this a side effect of the drug?

“mingyu?”, you ask, not sure if this was real.

“y/n, hey, it’s okay, im here now”, he says hurridely, pulling you onto his lap and you yelp in pain.

“shit sorry, but we need to get you out of here”, he explains.

“what are you doing here?”, you ask stupidly.

“i’m here for you, y/n. you didn’t come back and we got another threat and i knew something was wrong. fuck, i should have come earlier”, he explains.

“w-what about dino?”, you muster out with whatever strength you had.

“he’s here and he’s okay. we have the painting too. the van is down, i just need to get you out”, he says.

he tries to carefully scoop you in his arms but you whimper in pain again.

“i’m sorry but we’re almost there okay”, he assures, carrying you out. the jerks from the way he was running caused pain and you whined as he kept saying we were almost there. you hear dino’s faint voice as he opens the back of the van and mingyu rushes inside, gently laying you down on his lap.

“drive drive go!”, mingyu shouts, getting anxious.

“she’s hurt. badly”, dino adds.

“we should’ve brought wonwoo along, dammit. call him and ask him what to do to stop the bleeding”, mingyu commands.

“he-he injected something in me, some drug. said it would stop my organs and body functions within 36 hours”, you mumble out and mingyu’s face pales.

“how long as it been?”

“i don’t-maybe 24 hours”, you mumblr out, your memory hazy.

“here, wonwoo’s on the line”, dino says, holding out the phone so mingyu can speak on speakerphone.

“wonwoo, she’s bleeding out, she’s already lost a lot of blood, what do i do”, mingyu asks helplessly.

“just apply pressure to the wound and get her here”, he says, stern.

“fuck and he injected something in her, supposed to stop a person’s organs and body functions within 36 hours”, mingyu adds. “you can stop that right”, mingyu asks desperately and the line is silent for a few seconds.

“i don’t know it depends on how long it’s been-“

“24 hours”

“get her here, i’ll see what i can do”, wonwoo says, and the line drops.

he keeps talking to you so you can be conscious but after a ten minutes, you eyes start to close, and your body falters. your head starts to spiral and you get dizzy, seeing two mingyu’s above you.

“why are there two of you”, you ask no one in particular, starting to get delirious.

migyu’s pressure on your wound falters and you shrivel up in pain, the burning pain getting too much.

“it hurts, everything h-hurts”, you cry out softly and mingyu wishes he could do something to help ease the pain.

“i know baby you’re going to be okay, it’s going to be okay”, he says, panic evident in his eyes.

“hey hey y/n, don’t-“ mingyu pleads looking at you.

“mingyu”, dino says but he ignores him.

“y/n look at me”, he pleads, pulling you into him. your grip on his shirt loosens slowly and mingyu notices the way your hand falls down.

“fuck no no no, stay with me baby, i’m right here”, he pleads, almost crying but all you see is black as you lose consciousness.

(you were recovering in mingyu’s house since you couldn’t risk going to the hospital with an unknown drug in your system, it would cause a red siren everywhere and bring unwanted attention)

wonwoo tried his best to help save you but you were still lying unconscious after ten days. most of the drug had been flushed out of your system but it was taking some time for your body to recover from its effects.

“go get some rest mingyu”, wonwoo says as he walks in, seeing mingyu beside your bed.

“i need to be here when she wakes up”, mingyu says, his eyes red and his face tired from the lack of sleep.

“she’ll wake up, right?”, he asks for the tenth time today, hope reflecting in his tired eyes.

“i can’t make promises like that mingyu, it depends on the way her body is recovering”, wonwoo tells.

“this is all seungcheol’s fault”, mingyu declares, suddenly seeing red.

“where the fuck is he, he didn’t even come to see her once.”, mingyu adds, getting up.

“mingyu, you need to calm down.”

mingyu ignores wonwoo and shoves him to the side as he leaves for the safehouse in search of seungcheol.

“WHERE’S SEUNGCHEOL”, mingyu yells as he enters, causing seungkwan and vernon to jump and turn around.

“mingyu-"

“where the fuck is seungcheol?”, mingyu asks again, angry.

mingyu stalks ahead and bursts open the door to seungcheol’s office.

“this is all your fault”, mingyu says as seungcheol stands up from his desk and walks out a few steps before mingyu grabs seungcheol by the collar of his shirt.

“if you hadn’t sent y/n alone like i said, she’d be okay, she’d be okay”, mingyu spits out, seething in anger. “did you even go see her, do you know what he did?”, he adds.

“i know what happened and it’s unfortunate”, is all seungcheol says, making mingyu even more upset. in blinding anger, mingyu brings his hand up and lands a punch to seungcheol.

jeonghan runs in. “what-“, he asks but stops upon seeing the scene in front of him.

“im only letting this off because we got the painting”, seungcheol says, wiping his busted lip.

“fuck you, i bet you don’t even care if she dies”, mingyu spits stepping front again but jeonghan blocks him.

“she’ll live, she’s a fighter”, seungcheol tells before seungkwan comes along and he and jeonghan guide mingyu out.

that night mingyu is back home, laying next to your bed as wonwoo administers another round of IV.

“her wound is healing but slowly. it’s still a good sign that her body is functioning and working. otherwise, she would have gotten another infection if the drug had really affected her”, wonwoo says, hoping to bring some sort of relief to mingyu.

“you really love her don’t you”, wonwoo adds as he observes the way mingyu holds your hand.

“i should’ve insisted she doesn’t go alone, but she said she’d come back”, mingyu says defeated.

“if she doesn’t respond in another week, we’ll have to really do something then”, wonwoo tells, and by the way mingyu’s jaw clenches, he doesn’t like the sound of that.

mingyu stays by your bed that night, falling asleep and holding your hand.

you’re dreaming, someone is chasing you. you’ve been running for so long and you’re getting tired. you don’t even know where you’re running, you’re just running and running, hoping to find something.

mingyu stirs awake when he senses your grip on his hand tightening and he’s super alert.

“y/n?”, he asks softly.

someone is calling out to you. you can’t figure out where it’s coming from but you hear the sweet voice calling out my name again. you run towards the voice.

“y/n”, mingyu calls out again as he looks at you, trying to see if you can hear or understand him.

you’re running and running, trying to follow the voice and you vaguely make out a figure standing in front of you. the man stands out with his arms open as he calls out your name one last time and your eyes flutter open.

mingyu lets out a small gasp.

“mingyu”, you try to say, but no voice follows and you close your eyes again.

mingyu wastes no time in calling wonwoo, telling him the news and soon wonwoo is at the house.

“just keep an eye on her”, wonwoo explains saying he'll be back in the morning for a checkup.

in the morning, you wake up, a bit hazy but conscious. what woke you up was the pain and something cold and when you look down you realize your bandage had bled out, probably from sleeping on your side. you try to sit up but your arms give out, and your eyes close. you hear the faint steps of mingyu walking in and he says your name, rushing up to you. he gently sits down next to you, the bed dipping.

“you’re awake, you’re awake”, he says, his hands fumlbing for his phone as he dials wonwoo. you slowly manage to turn and face him, blinking up at him in a daze. he looks down and see’s your bandage that’s bled out.

“im just going to change your bandage okay y/n”, he says to you and you weakly nod. he helps you sit up, lifting your shirt up ever so slightly so he can take off the soiled bandage and replace it. he gently cleans the wound with a wet cloth and you slightly hiss at the pain, your hands clawing at the bedsheet. you take a moment to look at mingyu as he carefully tends to my wound. the way his hair falls over his face, the way the light bounces off him, the way his brows are furrowed in concentration, the way his hands are gentle so that he doesn’t hurt you.

“mingyu”, you say softly and he looks up worried and surprised. this is the first time you talked.

“do you want something? water? or are you hungry? i made some rice porridge earlier i can just-“

“thank you”, you weakly say and try to smile at him, and at this, he crumbles. he gently moves his hands to envelope you as he slowly pulls you into him for a hug.

“i thought i’d lost you there”, mingyu admits softly and you can hear the fear in his voice.

“i’m a fighter”, you mumble out and he laughs.

“‘im just glad you’re awake now. i thought- i was really preparing myself for the worst”, he says, pulling away to look at you. his hand cups you cheek, his thumb gently caressing my cheek. you lean into his touch and rest your head on his chest.

over the next few days, mingyu makes sure you’re comfortable and okay. he’s always checking up on you and you start to feel better. you’re able to get up and walk a little and your wound is healing too. you’re in less pain and wonwoo is impressed and satisfied with the way you’ve been healing.

“where’s dino? i hope he’s okay, i never got to see him afterward”, you say later one night. “do you want me to call them over?”, mingyu asks and you nod eagerly.

you walk over to mingyu and sit down next to him on the couch, looking up at him as you lean against his arm and suddenly you remember - you owed him a kiss when you came back. you sit up a bit and mingyu seems to have caught you staring.

“what?”, he asks, looking at you lovingly. “did you want something?”, he adds.

you simply move so that you’re straddling his lap and before mingyu can say anything, you’re kissing him. he kisses you back a few seconds later and his hands rest on your waist. he moves his lips against yours and his hand tilts your jaw closer to him. your hands wrap around his neck as you tangle your fingers in his hair and mingyu lets out a soft groan as he pulls away.

“fuck. i missed that. i missed you”, he mumbles against your lips.

“i promised you a kiss when i came back right”. you say and he smiles.

“you remembered”

“a little too late if i have to say”

“i’m glad you’re back baby, i missed you so much”, he says again, leaning forward to kiss you again, chasing after your lips. his lips are soft against yours, but the way he’s kissing you is like he hasn’t seen you in years. he kisses you with yearning and emotion, with a sort of urgency. his hand grips your waist tighter but you let out a small yelp since the pain is still there as the wound was still healing and his grip softens.

“shit sorry”, he says, looking to make sure you was okay, only to kiss him back, wanting to get lost in the feeling of his lips on yours. you’re too busy to notice that wonwoo opened the door and the rest of the boys walked in on you both kissing.

“y/n i got your favorite-“ seungkwan starts but stops dead in his tracks upon catching you both.

you pull away and turn your head around to see seungkwan’s mouth hanging open before he smacks a hand over his mouth in shock. dino just gives you a small shy smile and smiles when you smile back at him. you’re about to move off when mingyu pulls you in for one last kiss, just to tease you as you whack his arm and he pulls away chuckling.

wonwoo looks at us as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “i thought i said no strenuous activities for y/n”, he says, looking straight at mingyu.

“she started it”, mingyu says, throwing you in the fire as he gently slides you off him.

“what no! i–“, you start but falter, the words crumbling.

hoshi is immediately by your side, asking you if you’re okay and what happened before he starts pestering you for more details about how mingyu and you started liking each other because in his knowlege you hated him so now he need to know all the gossip and details.

after a few more months, you’re all healed but wonwoo still makes you do a checkup once every month, to make sure you were healing okay and that there were no leftover effects of the drug in your body.

2 years later

“baby i told you not to wear that fuck”, mingyu groans in your ear as he pulls you into a tiny room to hide from the security guards looking for you both.

“concentrate, we still need to get the gold bars”, you say, adjusting his tie as he pushes you into the wall.

“you look so fucking hot i told you that you’d get in trouble if you wore that”, he says, whispering against your ear.

after you healed and got back in the field, you and mingyu had been on countless missions together. this time you had to steal some gold bars from a corrupt politician, and once again to build connections and friends, you had to pose as a married couple. so here you were.

“my wife likes to be a brat sometimes”, he mumbles before pecking your lips.

“watch it, im not your wife”, you say, poking his arm.

“not yet, but i can change that”, he says, giving you a wink.

you stare up at him tilting your head to the side. “are you proposing to me, mingyu?”, you ask.

“maybe”, he says with a goofy smile as he leans in to close the gap between you with a kiss.

and yes, you did successfully steal the gold bars and you maybe tortured the corrupt politician a little, but everyone needs to have a little fun right?

— taglist

@daisycheols @naaaaafla @slytherinshua @weird-bookworm @idubiluv @qaramu @n4mj00nvq @itsveronicaxxx @joshuaahong @fallingforshua29 @frankenstein852 @lvlystars @fairyhaos @rubywonu @aaniag @junniesoleilkth @m1ngyuc0re @wheeboo @hyunyin @minhui896 @fancypoisonapple @raggedypansexual @k-ajla12 @asyre @ilovesungjun @jyiiscool @tis-niki @foxinnie8 @nobraincellmode @ne0c0r3 @nishloves

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solkara · 3 months

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❛ 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐃 𝐄𝐘𝐄 , alicent hightower and rhaenyra targaryen ❜

⌗ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 , being blind was a blessing and a curse that you had to navigate from a young age but you were lucky to have two friend's willing to do anything for you

⌗ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 , alicent hightower x fem! blind! reader x rhaenyra targaryen

⌗ 𝐬𝐨𝐥'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 , this was actually meant to be a one and done this but I think I'm gonna make it a two part so I can write it to the best of my ability without being rushed !!

house of the dragon masterlist , next part

⌗ you weren't always blind. you had your sight till you were age ten. when an assassination attempt gone wrong left you blinded. and since that day people only looked at you for what you had lost. not for what you had left. all they seven kingdoms saw a poor fragile high born girl with no sight.

⌗ but your best friends rhaenyra and alicent didn't. they saw you as more than your blindness. and dare you say they were the reason you had gotten though some of the darkest moments in your life. going out of their way to include you in everything they did.

⌗ walking hand and hand with you through the castle. reading your favourite stories. telling you the lastest court gossip. and showering you with gifts when your spirits were low. the greatest gift they ever gave you besides their friendship was your cane.

⌗ made of snow-white wood with a silver ornament on top of your house crest. over time you learn how to see without actually seeing. by tapping or banging your cane you would listen to the vibrations and gauge how near or far everything in the room was. and over time you got use to the darkness. finding a strange comfort in it.

⌗ life was good. you had everything you needed. but there was one thing that gnawed at you. something you craved that you knew you would never get. marriage. as being blind made you damaged goods and their for unwedable. meaning you would never have a family of your own.

⌗ your best friends noticing your sadness asked you what was wrong. as they watched you break down into tears and sniffles. the two held you as your tears fell. and once you were calm enough they began soothing you insecurities. "one day the seven shall grant you your wish" "you will make an amazing mother"

⌗ but deep down the two knew that they were far too in love with you to allow you to be wed off to a man. that most definitely did not deserve you. not like they did. and gradually over time their beautiful friendship bloomed into a beautiful romance.

⌗ with soft touches and gentle kisses. late night conversations about the future ahead of them. but all that came crashing down when alicent married viserys. rhaenyra was incensed and you were confused. how could this have happened? while you tried to hear alicent out the targaryen wouldn't listen to a word of it. dragging you away so you wouldn't have to either.

⌗ and so began the tug of war over you. with neither the hightower and targaryen willing to give up. though your time was mostly monopolised by rhaenyra. with the white-haired girl rarely ever leaving your side. spending countless nights in your room. but alicent still managed to find ways to see you. and though you still couldn't forgive her fully for betraying your trust. you did try your best to be there for her.

⌗ you were there when she gave birth to all her children. a comforting hand as she screamed and writhed in pain. stroking her hair and kissing her hand. whispering words of comfort in an attempt to soothe the girl who you still had so much love for. but that became so much more difficult once rhaenyra started having children.

⌗ that was when alicent's resentment how come she was being punished for doing her duty. while rhaenyra could bear bastard children and go unpunished. she got everything. the love of her father. the title of heir. you. oh how she hated how she had gotten you. how she manipulated you into staying by her side with her and her bastard children.

⌗ the hightower couldn't understand how you could still stand beside her. after she willingly betrayed you for another man and bore his children. unlike alicent who never wanted to have viserys children but had to out of duty. though she never really saw her children as viserys. as in her mind they were yours and hers.

⌗ and she was tired of you being taken away from her. so tonight she was going to do something about him. so under the cover of night she went to see you. slipping into your room she watched as you lay peacefully in bed. you looked so peaceful in nothing but a white silk nightgown. approaching the bed alicent slipped under the covers with you.

⌗ her hands immediately began exploring the body she had been denied for so long. closing her eyes alicent couldn't help but bury her nose in your hair. inhaling that comforting scent that seamlessly brought her comfort. wishing for nothing more than to drown in it. but as the hightower allowed herself to get lost in the touch smell and taste of you against her lips and body she hadn't noticed that you had started to stir in you sleep. "nyra?" you said in a hushed mumble.

⌗ alicent said nothing in response. as she silently lulled you back to sleep. seething that you called out of rhaenyra and not her. as the auburn continued to touch and kiss you as you slept she failed to realise that another figure had entered the room. and had left just as quickly. but all alicent saw was a sliver of white hair.

⌗ and by the time the next morning had came alicent was still laying next to you. but left before you woke up. as she walked back to her room with a pep in her step she bumped into the last person she wanted to see rhaenyra who smirked at her like she had been blessed by the gods. and a few moments later she found out why. as the good mood alicent hightower came crashing down.

⌗ you were leaving with rhaenyra and her family to dragonstone. and there was nothing she could do about it. alicent cried for hours after hearing the news. even going as far as to get on her hands and knees in front of you in an attempt to get you to stay. but to no avail. as once again rhaenyra had gotten what she wanted.

anon , Could I request (if it's alright with you ofc ) Blind Reader X Rhaenyra and Alicent (or one of them ) OR Visenya and Rhaenys . Readers blindness is due to R saving them ? Now, reader is a strategist or hand on the council ? If the idea is okay with you ofc , anything you wish 🙂

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icyg4l · 6 months

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PAC: Your Future Partner's Love Language

Hello beautiful people, tonight marks the third post of the week regarding love! (meaning I kept my promise, yay!) I have a sale going on tomorrow, so be sure to tune into that. If you would look to book a reading, please read my guidelines and then dm me! If you have any inquiries, also dm me! Without further ado, please select your pile!

Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (1-4)

Pile 1: I feel like you’re the independent woman trope, Pile One. This person will be attracted to you because you have your own. But that doesn't mean that they won’t be giving. This isn’t a stingy lover at all. I get Cancer/Capricorn/Aquarius energy from this person. I see this person will be big on gift giving. They will also shower you with compliments. They don’t expect this in return, to be honest. They’re also really big on paying the tab every time at restaurants. I feel like this person is calm and collected. This person wants to follow in their family’s footsteps. They’re big on marriage and doing things the proper way. They would like to show you off, this is part of their love language as well. And lastly, this person really likes to see people stand on business. Part of their love language is helping you plan and put things into action. They’re going to be your number one fan. Expect roses and romance with this person, Pile One.

Cards Used: The Hierophant, The Hermit, 4 of Discs, Queen of Swords

extras: tacos. party pooper. mellow. skilla baby. carrie underwood. bartleby.

Pile 2: So when I was shuffling for this pile, I heard the term ‘yapper’. This person really likes to talk, even if it’s about nothing. I thought of this guy who I sit next to in my English class, and he says whatever comes to mind. I feel like this person just really wants a listening ear since they didn’t get that when they were younger. They could have been the type of kid to have “talks too much” on their report card. They have big Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Virgo energy. This person just wants to be heard and valued for once, they feel taken for granted. This person has the tendency to go down memory lane as well. They also have a thing for tickling. They honestly seem like a big kid. They are really big on humor. Their sense of humor can be deadpan or they could say a lot of one-liner punchlines. Be prepared to laugh a lot. I think this person values one-on-one time a lot as well, Pile Two.

Cards Used: Judgment, Ace of Swords, Death (RX), Eight of Discs (RX), 7 of Discs (RX)

extras: bright teeth. nice style. black beanies. toby from this is us. “kiss the ring.” wrestlers.

Pile 3: Oh man, the chemistry is hot here. This person really likes PDA. They enjoy physical touch. They want you to find any reason to touch them & they want to do the same for you. This person wants everyone to know that y’all are together. They could be a little clingy, let them know if that’s too much for you. I get the feeling that this could be their first real relationship so please be gentle with them. I feel like this person is like a big teddy bear. They really enjoy hugs, sharing drinks with you, cuddling, hand-holding and sloppy kisses. It all makes their world go round. You guys will be engaging in a lot of sexual activity together so please protect yourselves! Overall, this person is not shy. This person is quite the flirt, very physical. They give big Leo, LIbra, Aries energy. You guys are going to be like that one couple in high school that got detention for kissing by the lockers. People might be uncomfortable by your dynamic because you’re so physical with one another, but fuck it!

Cards Used: Knight of Wands, The Chariot, Princess of Cups, The Lovers, Ace of Cups.

extras: sweet face. wink. “hold me.” soft hands. racy. lord farquaad. monochromatic. skin-to-skin.

Pile 4: Can we say dramaaaa? I feel like your person is really dramatic. They’re the epitome of go big, go home. They give off Pisces, Leo, Sagittarius energy. They’re the epitome of male R&B singers in the early 2000s. This person has the best intentions but it can be overwhelming for you at times. Know that this person is doing their best. This is a part of who they are, there’s no faking this personality. I think this person would literally do anything for you. If you were to ask for a cookie from the store, they would bring you the cookie, a sandwich, a drink, chips and flowers just to make your day. This person is really good at planning parties and spending money. If you were to have a birthday coming up, they would have a surprise party planned with all of your favorite people there and thoughtful gifts. This person wants to give you the world, honestly. Don’t feel embarrassed by the things that this person does because you deserve it. They do it out of purity, but you can tell them to tone it down if it’s really getting to you.

Cards Used: The Emperor, The Fool, Justice, 7 of Cups, Ace of Discs, Princess of Cups

extras: my way by usher. “It’s camp.” new edition. clown colors. teezo touchdown. rich uncle vibes.

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 2 years

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Danny thinks he's done a wonderful job all things considered. His city is safe, no one has died yet, no major injuries, Vlad had screwed off after Danny beat him within an inch of his afterlife (Danny learned that Vlad was a revenant abusing dirty ectoplasm for powers-not a halfa), ect.

Most of his rogues gallery also stopped bothering him once it became clear he was having trouble keeping his increased power in check and was trying hard not to hurt them. Unfortunately there was one who refused to leave him alone. A warrior princess was demanding his hand in marriage as she needed to be married by the summer solstice of next year or the throne would be passed down to her younger sister, who was already married.

It didn't matter how many times he said no, she kept coming back and challenging him for his hand. Each time she came back stronger and with new tactics and weapons to try. He was starting to fear she might actually win one day. That day might be sooner rather than later as her latest scheme was cutting it close.

Deciding that 1. Amity didn't need him anymore if he closed the portals 2. He was probably going to have to leave anyway if he loses and 3. He didn't have a future in this world as Fenton anymore he leads her on a wild goose chase back into the GZ and causes the portals to collapse in on themselves. The princess laughs, thinking he had given up. But no.

Danny put a curse on himself to turn him into a bat for the next year or so, a full month longer than the princess had left to find a spouse. She screams. Appearently she had a phobia of bats, who knew? Anyway he was left alone to fly through the Infinite Realms and find a new home.

He found a new world easily thanks to the natural portals of the IR and crossed though. Immediately being pelted on all sides by freezing cold rain was not what he expected but its what he got as he flew over a sign that proclaimed the city beneath him was called Gotham. The little glowing white bat flew through the night for hours before seeing a fruit bowl laying innocently on a kitchen counter through a window. Whats more it was in some giant manor so the occupants probably wouldn't mind if he ate an orange or two.

Right?

Needless to say a kid around the age of 11 or twelve walked in on him clutching an apple like his life depended on it while furiously munching. The kid looked...excited? He started going on about names and what he would need to care for him. Danny wasn't really listening, he didn't realize how hungry he had been until he started eating. He waited until the kid had looked away to turn himself and his apple invisible. This bothered the kid who looked suspicious but went to look for "the bat" anyway.

Later, while Danny was taking a shower in the kitchen sink to wash off the remains of his meal (I headcanon that Danny is a bit of a neat-freak) some other guy walked in holding an empty coffee mug and wearing eyebags that would put a raccoon to shame. They just stared at eachother for a solid few seconds before Danny started squeeking in rage and covering himself with the washcloth he was using to scrub himself clean. It looked like something out of a cartoon. Tim thought he was hallucinating but why would he hallucinate a glowing white bat with hearts all around it (that part isn't real) taking a shower in the kitchen sink. Was his subconscious trying to tell him something??

The next victim person to spot him was Duke who just stood in his doorway as this glowing white bat rolled an orange down the hallway. He decided this was a problem for the night crew and went to tell them.

Alfred saw a small shock of white fur and heard squeeking. His first thought was 'rat' and he didn't even hesitate. Danny dodged 3 bullets and got the hell out of the kitchen.

The batfam are debating on whether this was a shifter or an meta animal that was experimented on.

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shrewsburysworld · 1 month

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YANDERE POPULAR BOY JUNGKOOK | PART 3

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

Warning:- Accusations of infidelity, murder, delusion behaviour.

*This is a fan fiction. completely fictional. The behaviour of characters in this fiction is not something to emulate. You are responsible for your own consumption. Thank you.*

Yandere Jungkook spoiled you rotten with his luxury, be it the latest market pieces of jewellery or designer clothes.

Yet it never fascinated you, your world became a gilded prison. he showered you with every comfort, yet it was a life devoid of freedom.

Jungkook believed his love was pure and his obsession was justified. To him you were everything, he didn't force you to sleep with him. and you were thankful for that. Maybe he actually loved you, but he was a mentally ill person.

You felt sorry but being trapped in your golden cage began to suffocate you under the weight of his so-called love.

So you took your chance and tried to play with his mind and sanity. you accused him of things he couldn't understand - infidelity, deceit - things that baffled him because his devotion to you was absolute.

One evening, in the grand but empty mansion you shared, you confronted Jungkook. "You're seeing someone else, aren't you?" you whispered, tears brimming in your eyes.

You couldn't afford to take someone else's name because what if he hurt them, you know he is capable of doing that. Jungkook stared at you confused and hurt. "No!! There's no one but you. How could you think that?"

But you wouldn't listen. You wanted out, wanted to escape the suffocating grip of a love that was slowly killing you. In your desperation, you filed for a divorce, hoping to use the accusation of infidelity as your escape route.

The thought of losing you Jungkook to madness. He didn’t understand your accusations, but if there was someone you believed he was cheating with, that person had to be eliminated. His love for you was so consuming that it twisted his logic, turning his actions into something dark and dangerous.

Jungkook began to watch those around him, scrutinizing every woman he interacted with, searching for a hint of the betrayal you believed existed. Then, one day, a colleague’s innocent touch on his arm during a business meeting ignited a spark of rage within him. She was the one you feared. She was the one who would take you away from him.

Driven by his delusion, Jungkook arranged a meeting with the colleague, luring her under the guise of business. It was there, in a secluded penthouse suite, that he ended her life with cold precision. He felt no remorse—only a sense of duty fulfilled, believing he had removed the threat to his marriage.

When you heard the news, you were horrified. Jungkook confessed to you, not out of guilt, but out of love. “I did it for us, Baby!!. She was the reason you wanted to leave. Now we can be together, without anyone coming between us.”

Your blood ran cold. You realized that your accusations, born out of a desperate need to escape, had pushed Jungkook over the edge. His love was not just obsessive; it was deadly. You was trapped, more than ever, in a nightmare from which there was no escape.

Jungkook, oblivious to the terror in your eyes, pulled you close, whispering sweetly, “Now, my love, you’ll never leave me.”

As the walls of the mansion seemed to close in on her, your dreams of freedom shattered like glass. You were his, forever bound by a love that was as painful as it was powerful.

*This is original work. Do not copyright*

Hey Army!! Thank you so much for loving Yandere Jungkook series. If you guys have any further ideas or imaginations for the continuation of this series drop a message/request. 🫶🫶

#bts imagines #yan blog #yandere bts #yandere male #yandere #bts fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook ff #jungkook fiction #jungkook fluff #yandere jungkook #yandere jungkook × reader #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fic

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mrs-kmikaelson · 1 year

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Should've Known Better

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x reader, Mikaelsons x sister-in-law!reader, Kol Mikaelson x reader (if you squint), Marcel Gerard x mother-figure!reader Summary: After a thousand years of marriage, everything comes crumbling down, taking you with it. But you shouldn't have been so surprised; you knew that Klaus was fire, and you knew that fire burned. You should've known better. Warnings: long, lots of angst and tears, cheating, (do i put tw for violence? like it's tvd, ofc there's violence), no promises of a happy ending Words: 7.8K

Masterlist | Part 2

a/n: not an update for the tribrid yet, but i come bearing a peace offering. this is the only one for now, but i have an idea for a part two if you guys want one. also, tell me if you want to be on just my klaus taglist or my tvdu one.

In the past, you’d been told that your relationship with Klaus didn’t make any sense. You ignored them. They don’t know us, you thought. They don’t understand what we’ve gone through. And that, for the most part, was true.

You were turned with the Mikaelsons when you were only twenty-one years old. You and Klaus had stuck together since then. Through all the trials and tribulations, you two were inseparable. The daggering of his siblings, the hunter’s curse, his enemies coming after you, trying to break his curse—you were there every step of the way. Nothing could make you leave him. In your mind, it didn’t matter what obstacle life threw at you; you’d beat it. You beat it every single time.

Later, you realized that you should’ve known this would happen sooner.

You should’ve known that it was too good to be true.

You could still remember walking into your shared apartment that day in the nineties. You were on top of the tallest mountain, feeling like you were on top of the world. Until suddenly you fell, plummeting down to the ground as the life you’d built fell with you. But that wasn’t the right word to use. You did not fall that day.

You were pushed.

“Nik, I got the-” you cut yourself off, dropping the bags in your hands to the ground. Something in them cracked, but you couldn’t hear a thing. Your world went silent; it was as if the only cracking you could hear was the cracking of your own heart.

Klaus quickly got up, speeding to you. While he was able to get his pants on quickly, there was nothing he could do to hide the blonde in his bed- your bed.

“Y/N, love, it’s not-”

“It’s not what, Klaus?” Tears that you didn’t even know were there raced down your cheeks. You saw him wince when you addressed him. You never called him that.

“This is not what it looks like.”

“Oh, really? So you didn’t just fuck this girl in our bed?” At that, his eyes went downcast. You felt your hands shake. He had no explanation to give you and you knew that; it wouldn’t matter if he had one, anyway. You weren’t gonna stick around to listen to it.

You sped out of your shared apartment as fast as you could, not caring if any human onlookers saw. That day, you swore to yourself that you were done.

You should’ve known better.

That day, you ended up running to Elijah, hoping he would give you refuge, but you knew now that it was wishful thinking. It didn’t matter that Klaus and Elijah were fighting. It didn’t matter how close you and the nobleman were, how much he claimed to care for you. At the end of the day, his brother would still mean more to him.

So, that same day, Elijah brought you right back to Klaus.

You refused to talk to him, but he begged, and begged, and begged. He promised, and promised, and promised. He showered you with affection and more sweet-nothings than he’d ever given you. So, you thought to yourself, he’s trying. He just made a dumb mistake. We all deserve second chances.

You kick yourself now for ever being so stupid. But, at the time, all you could think about was the centuries upon centuries of love the two of you shared. It felt like a crime to throw it all away over one mistake.

But it wasn’t just one mistake.

“Y/N, love, please don’t do this-” Klaus reached a hand out to grab your arm, but you shoved him away. You stormed out of the house, your husband following right behind you. It was pouring outside, but you didn’t care. There was a much more dangerous storm brewing inside of you. You’d prefer to be out in the rain than to ever be in that house with him again.

“Y/N, please-”

“Get the hell away from me.”

“Y/N-”

You spun on your heel and exploded, “Get the hell away from me, Klaus!” The rain hid it all so well, but you were both crying.

“Please, I can’t lose you.” You finally broke down, letting out a sob. You fell down to the ground as Klaus tried desperately to catch you, ending up kneeling on the ground next to you.

You tried to hard to be strong, not to cry, but you couldn’t help it. You were smart; you knew better than to let a man do this to you. But, when it came to Klaus, the man you’d spent your entire life with, your heart overpowered your head.

Your voice cracked with every word you spoke. “You said this would never happen again.”

“Love-”

“No, you promised me, Nik, you said never again.” He opened his mouth to speak, but you didn’t let him get a word in. “You said you would never put me through this again-”

“Y/N-”

“It’s been all of ten years, and here we are, in the same position you put us in last time-” You cut yourself off sobbing as your voice failed you. You buried your head in your hands. The heartbreak you felt was ineffable, so much more intense than the last time. When you said your vows all those years ago, so high on happiness, you never could’ve imagined that you’d one day feel like this—that Klaus would make you feel like this.

He didn’t say anything else. There was nothing to say. There was no defence for what he was doing to you. So instead, he wrapped his arms around you, and being tired, you let him.

It was funny, almost. Even as he engulfed you in his warmth, even after he took you inside and placed you by the fireplace, you still felt so cold.

After the second time, you left him. You woke up the morning after, wrapped in his arms, and you left without looking back. Leaving him almost hurt just as much as catching him in the act, but you knew this was what was best. You needed to do this.

This time, you didn’t go to Elijah. You cut off all communication with the Mikaelsons completely, even though they were both blowing up your phone. After the first fifty phone calls, you threw it in a dumpster.

Being away from Klaus made you feel better, but you still didn’t feel like you. For a long time, you felt broken, incomplete, so used. You didn’t know who you were without him. But you got better.

Slowly, you built yourself back up, building walls around your heart so that no one could ever do that to you again. But if Klaus was the big bad wolf, then you may as well have just been a little piggy because, when he found you, he blew those walls down effortlessly as if they were made of straw.

See, Klaus Mikaelson was like a whirlpool: try and swim away all you want, but he would just keep sucking you in until you’d eventually die.

You should’ve known better.

You walked into your apartment with a kick in your step. It was a good day; you were happy. But the smile on your face dropped when you saw the figure standing in your home.

You tried to go back out through the door, but Klaus was faster, speeding to you and closing it shut, caging you between the door and him. You let out a shaky breath, unable to turn around as you rested your forehead against the door, tears welling in your eyes.

It’d been three years since you last saw him, the longest you’d ever gone without seeing him, yet he still made you feel things that no one else on earth could.

For a moment, you were both mute until you broke the silence, whispering, “What are you doing here?”

You heard him swallow as if he was scared, but you were the one that was terrified. Klaus would never lay a hand on you, but he could hurt you in ways that were so much worse, so at that moment, you feared for your life. Because you knew that, with the right words, he could get you to fall into his trap again, and going through all this again would kill you.

“I-” he paused, like he was gathering his thoughts. You thanked whatever god was out there that he didn’t make you face him. “I knew you were here, I just- I wanted you to have time to yourself, but, Y/N, it’s time to come home now.”

Your lips quivered as you struggled to hold the tears. He made it sound like this was a game, and maybe to him it was, but it wasn’t like that for you. This wasn’t a break that you’d just “come back” from; you were done, you promised yourself that.

You shook your head, but Klaus spoke before you could even utter your protests. “I can break my curse.” Your eyes involuntarily went wide, not having expected that. You were just about to spin around, but he turned you first. As soon as your eyes met his, you couldn’t help the tear that fell down your face.

It was like you forgot how beautiful he could be.

He looked to be having somewhat of the same reaction as you, scanning over you as if couldn’t tell that you were real. And honestly, you even felt like pinching yourself, too.

His voice got softer. “There’s a girl in Virginia, the doppelgänger.” He paused to let you say something, but you were so taken aback by everything that’d happened after you stepped into your apartment that you were practically speechless. How ironic. You’d spent months agonizing over all you’d say to him if you ever saw him again, but now that you were, you had nothing to say.

“I am so close, Y/N,” he whispered. His hands cupped your cheek so gently that a stranger would’ve never guessed that this man had destroyed entire villages, that he even destroyed you, too. When he rested his forehead on yours, the tears that you were trying so hard to hold in came falling like your eyes were a waterfall. “I can- I can wake the rest of the family. Rebekah, Kol, Finn- I know how much you miss them all.”

Your heart tightened in your chest because you did miss them, but you forgot just how much you missed him.

“We can be a family again, Y/N.” You screwed your eyes shut. Your husband was a smart man. Whether the tears in his eyes were real or if he was just a great actor, you couldn’t be sure, but he knew exactly what your weak-spots were and he was using them against you.

This wasn’t fair, you thought. This wasn’t fair at all.

“Please, let us be a family again.” You opened your eyes, biting your lip to prevent the sobs from escaping. “I love you.” Oh, you should’ve kept your eyes closed. You should’ve sped out the door the second you saw him. You should’ve ran farther, tried harder to disappear so that he would’ve never found you.

But none of that mattered.

Because, just like that, you folded.

After a week, you ended up leaving with Klaus. You helped him with his plans to become a hybrid, and he was trying, you could tell he was really trying, but your marriage wasn’t the same. Whenever you kissed him, you couldn’t help but wonder, did she kiss him like this? When you made love, you wondered, was he so tender and loving with her, too? Were you even as special as he told you that you were?

There was only so much trying he could do. You knew the damage was done. You now had insecurities that no amount of sweet words could ever get rid of. You were such a confident woman, but you didn’t feel that way, not anymore.

Your mirror was cracked, sure, but you could still see yourself. You still saw a future, a bright future. You, Klaus, Elijah, Rebekah, Kol, Finn—you could all be a family, just like Klaus told you that day. You could see it.

So you stayed.

Eventually, they were all woken up. For a while, things felt normal, like when you’d been human. But you were starting to learn that good things never lasted long enough.

When Esther came back, she tried to kill you all. You defeated her, as a family, but no matter how hard you tried to convince them, your siblings all left. This family’s broken, Kol said to you. You’d best get out while you can, Y/N.

You should’ve listened to him.

But you didn’t, and you’d later wonder if things would’ve been different. If you took Kol’s offer to come with him, to leave your husband and travel the world, then would you have been happy?

You tell yourself you’d never know, but you knew deep down that you would’ve been happy, that at least you wouldn’t have been devastated.

It was only you and Rebekah; you were the only ones that could stick by Klaus. In that way, you two were one in the same, two sides of the same coin. You’d always be living in the same hell, trying to get to heaven by being loyal to him, but little did you both know, the longer you stayed, the deeper down into hell you went. Until heaven was unobtainable.

For a while, things were okay. You and Klaus were okay—God, you were just getting to okay. And then Kol died.

That took the cake. Nothing you’d ever felt was so painful, not even what your soulmate did to you, or the man who was supposed to be your soulmate.

Suddenly, you were wishing you could turn back time, wishing you could’ve gone with Kol when he asked you to, wishing you could’ve spent more time with him—you just got him back.

After Kol’s death, it was like the idea of a family became unobtainable, too.

You were in pieces, but Rebekah stayed strong. She handled Klaus while you couldn’t, because wasn’t that your job? What else were you here for—what else were either of you here for?

You wanted to kill Jeremy Gilbert, to rip him and Elena to shreds and to make the Salvatores watch. You wanted them to feel even an inch of your pain, but Klaus didn’t let you, and you resented him for it.

The way he behaved after Kol’s death was unforgivable to you, but you were able to see past it because what was his death if it wasn’t a wake up call? You didn’t want to take this life for granted; you didn’t want to wake up one day, regretting not spending time with your husband because he was dead.

So you repaired the bond that was severed after Kol. You held him and he held you just as tight, if not tighter. Neither of you wanted to lose the other. So you worked for it, you worked for something better, you worked to be something like what you were before—to be anything like what you were before.

But, oh, you should’ve known better.

You didn’t walk in on Klaus cheating on you a third time. He confessed to you, tears in his eyes. He begged, and made promises, and begged, and begged, and cried, and cried, and he did the whole routine, but you were silent throughout it all.

You didn’t cry. You felt like your body was out of tears. God knows you’d cried an ocean away for Klaus, for this family, for the family you could’ve had.

You didn’t say anything, but you knew better now. You weren’t gonna run away, you’d learned from your mistakes. Instead, you moved into a different room in the house. The flowers, the jewelry, the sweet words—oh, all of the things that’d made you swoon in the past didn’t faze you. You’d been force-fed so many sweet words that you now had a tooth ache that no doctor could fix.

You didn’t talk to Klaus for weeks, but when the time came, you followed him to New Orleans. You were practically lifeless, but when Klaus brought you into a bar and you were met with the sight of the boy you took in, the boy you thought died, it was like someone took a defibrillator to your chest.

Hugging Marcel for the first time in almost a century was like CPR. Is this a play? you wondered. Is this Klaus’ strategy? But at that moment, it didn’t matter. Once again, you were reminded of Kol. You needed to cherish your loved ones while you still could, and so it didn’t matter if Klaus was using Marcel to get you to crack, you’d appreciate it, anyway.

But you should’ve known better. You should’ve known that you couldn’t be happy.

When you got to the plantation late at night, the house Klaus insisted you stay in, you were confused to see a brunette woman standing on the stairs.

You furrowed your brows while the woman’s went up. She looked like a deer in headlights. Before you could ask her any questions, your sister came into view. She looked almost as shocked as you.

“Rebekah?”

She ignored you. “You’re here,” she said, surprise lacing her voice and an unknown emotion in her eyes.

“Yes, I am.” You glanced in between Rebekah and the brunette, starting to become unnerved with their expressions. You didn’t know why she was surprised that you were here; it was you who should’ve been surprised at her arrival.

You should’ve known better.

“Elijah- Elijah didn’t tell me you’d be here.”

You only got more confused as she went on. “Elijah’s here?”

She ignored you again, scoffing under her breath, shaking her head at the ground. “My brother’s a fool,” she muttered. And only then did you realize that the emotion in her eyes was pity.

You looked back to the brown-haired woman, instantly realizing why she was looking at you like you were going to attack her. Quickly, you looked away before you actually did. You didn’t say the exact words out loud, but they knew that you knew.

“What is she doing here?” Your voice was sharp; you saw the girl flinch out of the corner of her eye.

When Rebekah looked up at you, you felt your heart drop. She looked at you like you were the last to be let in on the secret, like she knew she was about to single-handedly crush you. Softly, she told you, “Listen.” And so you did.

And then every other time your heart broke felt like nothing. Nothing could compare to the utter shock you felt, the pain. Because you heard a little heartbeat, and you knew the implication Rebekah was making.

You looked up to the girl to see that she was about to cry. That almost made you lose it. Who was she to cry? you thought.

You looked at Rebekah to see tears in her eyes, too. “How?” You asked, but she didn’t get a chance to reply.

“Niklaus is a hybrid, Y/N.” You turned to see Elijah slowly walking into the room. He looked careful, almost, like anything he said could set you off. “He’s not a full vampire-”

“And she’s human,” you cut him off, humourlessly chuckling. The human girl gave him a baby.

You couldn’t help but wonder, if you had a baby while you were human, would your marriage have ended up this way?

But none of that mattered. Right now, it felt like nothing mattered. Just as you thought there was nothing more Klaus could do to you, he gets his one night stand pregnant. Now she wasn’t so much of a one night stand anymore, was she?

Your siblings were looking at you like you were a china doll, like their brother had just thrown you and they were waiting for you to break. But your face was blank. On the inside, however, there was an entire hurricane taking place, but it was like your body refused to release any of it. Oh, you wanted to break down, you wanted to so badly, but it felt impossible.

There was nothing more to say- nothing you cared to hear, anyway. So you slowly walked up the stairs, heading for a guest room, ignoring Rebekah and Elijah’s calls. The blonde started crying, and if you’d looked down, then you would’ve seen Elijah burning a hole into the ground with his gaze.

You didn’t want to look at either of them, especially not your husband’s right hand man. You were growing to resent Elijah, even though there was a time when you were the best of friends. Maybe if he hadn’t brought you back to Klaus that day in 1996, then you could’ve been spared this horrible, horrible feeling. But no. Any relationship you had with a Mikaelson was trumped by the relationship they had with Klaus.

Of course, they were here, you thought. Of course, they come running back to him the second he does something stupid.

But how mad at them could you really be?

Haven’t you always been doing the same thing?

After you’d gone up stairs, you could remember popping open an old bottle of whiskey and drinking until your vision was hazy. You couldn’t remember when you fell asleep, but when you awoke, Klaus was right there in bed next to you.

You ignored your thoughts, questioning the nerve of him to get in bed with you after what you’d found out, and walked out of the room.

But you didn’t feel as angry as the night before. You felt numb, almost. The last time you felt so empty was after your parents died a thousand years ago. It didn’t necessarily bother you, though. Feeling nothing felt better than feeling everything.

So you let it be. You showered, got dressed, and left the house. Rebekah and Elijah stared at you as you left, but you didn’t give them the time of day. You went and met Marcel for breakfast like everything was fine, went shopping, then you came back home and climbed into bed. When you woke up, Klaus was there again, but you ignored it and continued with your routine.

For three weeks, you didn’t say a word to your husband. He could barely even try to speak to you; you were gone all day everyday and you were asleep by the time he came home. Rebekah would try to make conversation whenever she saw you, but she only received short answers. Elijah didn’t even try; something told you he felt guilty, and you hoped he did. The pregnant werewolf whose name you learned was Hayley would tense up every time you crossed paths. Once, she tried to apologize to you, but it was as if she were talking to a wall because you didn’t give her the slightest bit of attention.

While you weren’t communicating with the people you lived with, when you went out into the Quarter, you were a different person. You were lively, and confident, and funny, and you didn’t look like a woman whose husband cheated on her. Marcel was constantly introducing you to people; you were always surrounded by people, and while you felt so alone at first, as time progressed, you stopped feeling so lonely.

Suddenly, it was like that hole in you started to heal. The hole was still there, but it was getting better.

One day, one of your new friends introduced you to this boy, this young, newly turned boy. And, looking at him, you felt something other than despair: you felt like you were human again. Talking to him made you feel things that you forgot existed, things Klaus used to make you feel on a daily basis.

This boy was good. He was pure, and happy, and full of life, even though he was dead.

It felt wrong at first. Klaus was the only man you had ever been with. But perhaps that was why you liked this boy so much: he reminded you of a side of your lover that had been long dormant, the side of Klaus you fell in love with.

You never slept with him. You never even kissed him. All you did was feel something.

But that didn’t matter.

Oh, you should’ve known better.

So much better.

You opened the door, your bag immediately falling to the ground at the sight you were met with. “No- no, no, no.” You sped into the living room, falling to your knees. Your tears fell with you.

In front of you, the sweet, sweet boy you were starting to feel something for was lying dead in his own apartment. You wished it wasn’t real, but his body was grey, veins all over him. With the hole in his chest, he didn’t look so peaceful anymore.

You cupped your hand over your mouth in shock, silently sobbing. You were so distraught that you didn’t even notice the footsteps behind you.

“I ripped his heart out.” You turned your head to see none other than your husband standing a few feet away from you, the red organ in his hand. While your vision was blurred, you could still see the quiet anger on his face, even though he seemed emotionless. He dropped Leo’s heart on to the ground like it was nothing.

Suddenly, a fire that you thought died out alit in your body. You all but sneered, “What is wrong with you?”

Klaus humourlessly chuckled. It was almost like you couldn’t recognize him, but oh, he had never looked more like himself. “What’s wrong with me?” He echoed. “What’s wrong with me is my wife has been sneaking around behind my back.”

You scoffed in utter disbelief and shot up from the ground. “Oh, so I’m the villain now? I’m sorry, saint Klaus, I didn’t know you were so innocent.”

“Don’t start this with me.”

You snapped. “You started this! I have been living in that house with you and your pregnant werewolf, leaving you to your own devices, but the second I try to be happy, I’m the one in the wrong?”

“Y/N-”

“No, I- I can’t even believe what I’m hearing right now.” A laugh escaped from your lips, full of darkness. “I have not done any damage to this marriage.” You pointed at him. “You’re the one who broke your vows, not me. Forgive me for wanting to clutch at any happiness I could have after you took it all from me.”

Klaus pointed right back at you. “Our marriage isn’t over, Y/N- it will never be. I will never let you forget that.”

You shook your head. “This isn’t a marriage anymore.” Klaus’ mouth opened to protest, but you kept going. Everything you held in and didn’t say was coming up like bile in your throat that you desperately wanted to vomit. “You have destroyed this marriage, Klaus! Hell, you destroyed me.” You pointed to yourself, more tears coming to your eyes. “You have cheated not once but three times, and you got the last one pregnant! But the second I- what? The second I so much as talk to a man, you go and rip his heart out and get mad at me? Do you hear how insane that sounds?”

His jaw clenched, and maybe there was some sign of regret or remorse in his eyes, but you honestly couldn’t care less about his feelings at the moment. “Y/N-” he started, but you didn’t dare let him finish.

“No, it’s you who threw a thousand years down the drain, not me.” You took a step closer to him until you were chest to chest and you were looking right into his eyes. Maybe this would’ve ended in a kiss in the past, but your relationship was no longer the same. You grit your teeth.“I will never let you forget that.”

You then sped out of the apartment, running and running and not stopping until you were in an area you no longer recognized. Once you stopped, you let all of your tears fall, resting a hand on your chest and running the other through your hair. Your heart and your head were both pounding. Every time you thought Klaus couldn’t go any lower, he proved you wrong.

So, standing in the middle of nowhere, you grieved the loss of that poor boy, and at the same time, you grieved the loss of the man who was once your best friend. You grieved the loss of your marriage.

Because this was more than just killing a boy.

In doing this, Klaus killed another part of your marriage when you weren’t sure there was even anything left to kill.

After crying your heart out, you returned to the plantation and went straight to sleep. For a week, you stayed in bed, in spite of Rebekah who came knocking on your door every morning. One time, she didn’t leave so quickly after you remained mute. She sat on your bed, demanding that you eat something. When, throughout all her best efforts, you stayed silent, she threw the glass of blood onto the ground, breaking down and sobbing. Tears ran down her face as she pleaded to you, but you only stared at the wall, expressionless.

She apologized to you in between in her tears, even though it wasn’t her fault, even though you were only this way because of Klaus. But, oh, wasn’t that Rebekah’s specialty? Wasn’t that yours—stuck paying for the sins of the hybrid for the rest of your lives?

She cried, and cried, and cried, until she eventually left the room, too exhausted to keep dancing the same dance. She didn’t come back again.

You never cleaned the blood on the floor from the glass she threw. If anything, you hoped it soaked in and ruined the mahogany floors of this god awful house. It wasn’t long before you wouldn’t have to stare at that stain anymore because Klaus had come to tell you that you were leaving. You’d all be going to the Abattoir, he said.

You were confused; that was where Marcel stayed. So, for the first time in a week, you spoke. When you found out about the altercation they had, you recoiled. Both disgust and shock were on your face: disgusted at your husband’s behaviour and shocked with how he was treating Marcel.

You felt like screaming at him, but you didn’t have enough energy. Instead, you just stared at him. With your voice just barely above a whisper, you told him, That is your son, Klaus. You hoped that conveyed everything else you wanted to say. And you knew your message was received when Klaus walked out of your room without another word.

When you arrived at the compound, little changed. You and your husband still didn’t talk. Soon, when your siblings arrived, you didn’t speak to them either. Life went on this way for a long time.

Until Hayley gave birth.

Oh, life had felt so slow, but suddenly it started moving so fast.

When you first laid your eyes on little Hope, tears came to your eyes. She looked just like her father, you thought. And while you had never wanted anything to do with this, what Klaus had done, you couldn’t find it in yourself to condemn an innocent child.

Maybe Rebekah and Elijah would pay for their brother’s mistakes. Maybe you would, too. But you’d be damned if you let that baby suffer solely for being a Mikaelson.

Even if it meant you’d suffer the most.

The night Klaus came to you, you didn’t greet him, but you didn’t look at him so scathingly, either. In the courtyard, he asked something of you that’d change the rest of your life.

“Y/N, I know we’re not on the best of terms- I know I haven’t been a faithful husband, nor a good one,” he admitted, glancing down as if he were nervous before looking back up to your eyes. This was serious, and he wanted you to know that. “I know you don’t deserve this, and I know you never signed up for this. But I need your help.”

You straightened your shoulders. Whatever he was going to say, it looked like it physically pained him to say it. You wondered if this speech was inspired by Elijah, but you diverted your thoughts away from that. This wasn’t about your marriage; this was about something more important.

“You’re the only person I trust enough to do this, the only person I can really ask. It’s wrong of me to put this pressure on you after everything I’ve done, but I wouldn’t be asking if this weren’t so dire- you have to believe me.” He grabbed onto your hands, and you let him, even though it made you want to die, because when your skin made contact, you felt his hands tremble.

“Hope can’t be here; it’s not safe. The people of this city now know she is my weakness, and they will do anything to spite me, you’ve seen it firsthand.” You knew exactly what he was referring to: the day the witches tried to kill her. At the thought, you tensed. You saw tears gather in his eyes. “Please, I need her not to be here right now-”

You cut him off, almost in a state of awe as you realized what this was all about. “You need them to think she’s dead.” Your voice was breathy, like you’d just finished running a marathon, and wasn’t that what life was like in this family? With the Mikaelsons, no matter how powerful you all were, you’d always be running from something, fighting something. That couldn’t happen to Hope- not now, not yet. And so, without so much as another thought, you agreed, “I’ll do it.”

“Y/N-”

“No, Klaus, I’m doing this.” For the first time since you got to New Orleans, he saw a spark in your eye that you both thought had been extinguished. “I’ll take her, and I will protect her with my life.”

After that, he just stared at you for a few seconds. And for a moment, you as you held eye contact, you caught a glimpse of the man you fell in love with. For a moment, it almost felt like everything was alright, like he never cheated and like you never left. For a moment, the world stopped, and it was just you and him against the world.

But you knew better now.

You were startled when your husband suddenly embraced you tightly as if he never wanted to let you go. And then you realized how you couldn’t remember the last time you’d hugged. So, after a few seconds, if not just for the sake of it, you hugged him back. Although he quietly stammered his next words out, he still said them with more sincerity than you’ve heard from him in a long time. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You knew he was referring to more than just what he was asking of you. But, oh, you knew better now.

“I know.”

Not long after you and Klaus had that conversation, you took Hope. For the first time since you met her that day and found out she was pregnant, you actually talked to Hayley. Her eyes widened, like she couldn’t believe it. You told her that this didn’t make you two friends, but you also promised her that you’d look after her daughter.

She thanked you after a beat of silence, and then you and Hope disappeared.

You were gone for a while until your family’s drama eased up and you got the okay to come back to the Quarter. In that time, Hope’s parents missed their daughter’s first Christmas and also her birthday. But you made sure to take all the pictures you could. Even with the way you felt about them both, you weren’t gonna let those feelings get in the way of their relationship with Hope.

Their family, rather. When you returned, you realized that this was no longer your family. Eating dinner with them your first night back only proved that to you. This baby had changed all of you. You no longer knew your husband, and he no longer knew you.

When you first arrived to the compound, Klaus and Hayley came rushing to hug their little girl. The hybrid mouthed a thank you to you as he rubbed Hope’s back, tears in his eyes. The hostility you’d shown him from when he confessed he cheated on you all the way until just before you left New Orleans was gone. You couldn’t find it in you to be hostile as you watched him hold his daughter. In that moment, he was more than the man who betrayed you; he was a father who had been separated from his daughter.

That didn’t mean you forgave him, but you were trying to get there—for Hope.

Rebekah and Elijah showed up not a minute later. The blonde cooed at Hope while Elijah walked toward you, enveloping you in a hug that you couldn’t deny. You were worn out, and all you’d wanted this past year was to not be alone. But, deep down, you knew these efforts were futile. Things with your siblings would never be the same.

Rebekah had once been your best friend, but she was Klaus’ little sister first. Elijah was like an older brother to you, but he was Klaus’ first. The only person who could’ve possibly understood the way you were feeling was Kol, and he was long gone.

So, even as you stood in a room full of people, you still felt just as alone as when it’d only been you and Hope.

However, your epiphany didn’t matter. Maybe if it weren’t for Hope, you would’ve left and never turned back. Maybe you could’ve gone out and tried to find yourself, tried to be that same girl you were starting to like when you left Klaus in 2006. But Hope was there, and so you knew you couldn’t go anywhere. You had to stay with your family, even if they weren’t really your family anymore, because you just had to be there. You needed to protect Hope. You needed to keep Elijah from handling everything, and you needed to keep your little sister from spinning out. You needed to be there for Klaus to fall back on if he needed to, not for him, but to make sure he could be the best father he could possibly be to Hope.

To you, it wasn’t a choice. You needed to do this.

After all, didn’t you promise always and forever?

So, you stayed. You took care of Hope and took care of Klaus when Rebekah couldn’t take it anymore. It was almost as if your once other half and you had a silent agreement. He never tried anything, not even so much as holding your hand, but you were there for him as a friend, even though it broke your heart.

The two of you never officially ended things. Part of you wondered if maybe he thought you would get back together one day, but now you knew better than to ever expect anything like that. Yes, you would stay in the compound. And yes, you would take care of Hope. And yes, you would play nice with the mother of his child. But you were no longer Klaus and Y/N Mikaelson.

You were just Klaus and Y/N.

You never went out with another boy again. It was pointless, and you never wanted to fall for someone again if this was what love felt like, if it only ever brought you pain.

For years, things went this way. There were a few threats here and there, but they were taken care of every time. Hope was the most loved child in the world. She was starting to grow up, and so she was also starting to realize that her parents weren’t together. She was starting to realize that her father looked at the woman that’d been there all her life with a look of warmth in his eyes. She was starting to ask you questions that you didn’t know how to answer, questions you weren’t prepared to answer.

So, on Christmas Eve, after everyone had went to bed, you unscrewed the oldest bottle of liquor you had. You were originally saving it for a celebratory occasion, but you, too, were starting to realize things. You were starting to realize that, perhaps, the celebration would never come.

So you sat on the couch in the courtyard in front of the fireplace, unfazed by the cold. The Christmas tree diagonal to you glimmered and gleamed, but you were no longer so magnetized to it. Something in the last few years had taken away bits and pieces of your spirit until you were no longer sure it was even there anymore.

You took a swig of the wine, indulging in its bittersweetness as you stared straight into the fire, not caring if it’d blind you. For the first time since you turned, you loathed your immortality. At first, you looked at it like a blessing, something that’d give you an eternity with your family, an eternity to travel the world and enjoy all it had to offer you.

But now it was just a curse.

Just as you took another swig, you heard footsteps behind you, and suddenly the couch dipped, someone else sitting right beside you.

You could immediately tell who it was just from the mere grace of his actions. Elijah. You glanced at the nobleman, almost scoffing at his attire. Past midnight, and yet he was still in a suit.

Your voice was raspy as you remarked, “No rest for the wicked, huh?” Elijah sighed as you passed the bottle to him. For a second, you thought he’d scold you for not using a glass, but instead he took a large gulp straight from the bottle.

“It seems that way, Y/N,” he said, passing the bottle back to you. You chuckled, but there wasn’t much humour in your tone. He didn’t ask you why you were awake, nor did you ask him. You just sat together in front fireplace, passing the bottle back and forth. You didn’t know if you were both so silent because of how tired you were or if it was because your relationship had just become that fragile.

Sitting there, no Saint Nick came by in a magic sled. There were no reindeer, or bells, or snow. There was no magic to this holiday for you anymore, and you wondered if Elijah felt the same way. You wondered if he was as tired as he looked right now, as tired as you felt. If he was, then you couldn’t help but feel bad for him because, even though you had felt resentment for him, you wouldn’t wish this on anybody.

Still though, you wondered if you’d be sitting there if Elijah just let you go that day. You wondered how things would’ve turned out if he let himself go, too.

Like he was reading your mind, he suddenly turned to you and whispered, “I’m sorry, Y/N.” You turned to face him. While he looked serious, he looked more broken than you’d ever seen him. “I’m sorry I brought you back to him that day. I’m just now realizing that I’ve never apologized to you before.” You stared at him silently, and so he continued, looking back to the fire. “You could have been happy, and I took that opportunity away from you. So I am sorry.” He paused, like he was debating on saying something, a glazed look in his eyes as he lightly muttered, “More sorry than you’ll ever know.”

For what felt like forever but was really just a minute, you didn’t say anything. You, too, turned back to the fire, biting your lip as you tried to articulate what you wanted to say. “I think… I think, at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter.” You saw him turn back to you out of the corner of your eye, but you didn’t look back. You didn’t know if you could say this while looking at him. “I think it would’ve ended up like this, anyway. I was his wife, not his keeper, but that didn’t matter. My love for him would’ve always made me stay and look after him, even though it kills me inside, even though I think I died a long time ago.” You swallowed. “My mother used to tell me to watch how boys treat me, but Nik wasn’t just any boy. I was so enthralled by the beauty of the fire that I didn’t care if I’d get burned- God, I just wanted to feel warm.” Unknowingly, a tear fell down your cheek. At that moment, you turned to your brother to see him watching you intently. You shook your head, giving him a small smile. “It wasn’t your fault, Elijah, it was mine. I should’ve known better.”

At that, you got up, leaving the bottle with Elijah, and you walked back to your room. You didn’t sleep that night, but when Hope came running into your room in the morning, screaming that Santa came, you pretended to be asleep so that she could wake you.

You sat through the opening of presents, Elijah looking at you differently than before. And you’d sit through multiple Christmases after this one.

No matter how much it hurt you or how it unhealthy it was, you knew you were locked in now, and you threw away the key ages ago. You couldn’t get off this ride, not even if you tried to.

Maybe, if you didn’t let Klaus pull you back in time and time again, then you wouldn’t be stuck. But you did, and now all you could do was just sit and let the roller coaster run its course, no matter how sick it made you or how many tears would leave your eyes when no one was watching.

Now, you’d be here always and forever. But you still couldn’t help but think-

You should’ve known better.

Taglist: @honestlycasualarcade

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kiss-me-muchoo · 1 year

Text

𝐃𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐚 || 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Do you want a baby? part one || Suddenly, we have a baby part two || part three

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ Miguel and you finally have a baby. Your little family attends Pavitr’s party. Things are not okay though . During Pavitr’s party, Miguel and you finally explode and everything is a chaos that night in Mumbattan.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ this is long, Miguel has men postpartum depression, grumpy! x sunshine!, age gap (legal), implied short reader, mentions of pregnancy and breastfeeding. NO PROOFREAD!

𝐀/𝐍_ <3 Indian culture and religions, inspired by M.I.A’s/ KSHMR songs, listen to Legendary Lovers from my playlist :)

♪ ♫ my miguel playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

One night, a young marriage lies on the wife's bed after a warm shower and a light dinner. Her round belly is getting more uncomfortable, but they happily wait for their little bundle of joy to arrive.

“Miguel?” you ask softly. He hums and looks down at you.

“Did you ever imagine you would be a father again?” it took him by surprise and pulled him out of reality. The image of Gabriella instantly appears.

However, his hand on your bump brings him back. He smiles, taking your growing belly with both hands, rubbing it up and down.

“Before you, not really. But the moment I married you, I kinda suspected it,” you giggle. Miguel smiles again before kissing your head, but you leave him thinking about the issue.

Somehow he wants to fill that void of his lost daughter. And while he knew he already had everything, trauma unconsciously haunted him.

“Do you want more kids?” He asks, and he hopes you say yes.

“I don’t know. As long we are okay, and the babies come healthy, I could have ten… Or just this little one,” you admit pressing your hand on his.

The man liked your answer, but the feeling of nervousness and a mix of panic and insecurity slowly started to grow bigger.

…

Miguel O’Hara was looking at his wife feeding his baby daughter; Magda O’Hara was about to turn five months old, and although she ate like a champion, she was still a tiny human.

You were sitting in the cafeteria, a lilac blanket covering your chest and the baby. Your eyes looked tired, your suit had a visible baby burp on the right shoulder, and your hair was very curly. However, there was a big smile on your face. A soft blush that made you sparkle and send the most motherly smile to your daughter.

Miguel smiles too, but he’s still watching, hiding behind a wall.

“Are you avoiding your wife and baby?” Lyla pops out of nowhere. Her heart-shaped sunglasses judge Miguel. He sighs, frowning at the AI.

“No.”

“I think you are,” she pushes.

“I think I’m not.”

“You are…” Miguel huffs in annoyance.

“NO. I being NOT,” Lyla shrugs, leaning to glimpse you and Magda. You are still feeding the baby.

“You know? One out of ten men get PPND after their baby is born” he had an idea of what the annoying AI was trying to imply; he wanted to ignore her for some seconds, but soon the worry assaulted him.

“What?”

“Paternal Postnatal Depression,” Miguel sighed. But then remembered how much he loved Magdalena, her round cheeks and dark hair like his, her tiny hands wrapped around his thumb every night. Then you, the kisses you spread over his face every time you greet him, his intense desire for you even when you claimed your body was slowly returning to what it was.

He wasn’t depressed; he was fine.

“Nonsense, Lyla. I’m fine” his tone was firm, confident, and intimidating. So the AI would not push it further.

“As you say, boss,” and with that, she disappeared.

When Miguel returned to see you and Magda, the cafeteria was full of spiders with lunch breaks, but you and the baby were gone.

…

Your boots with heels sound across the reports room of the HQ. Jess turns at the sound and smiles after seeing you. With a little wave, you pace toward her.

“Look at you, girly pop. If I didn’t know, I would say you have never been pregnant,” she explains with a big smile.

“Almost five months, Jess. I can’t believe it…” you admit, thinking about sweet baby Magda and her adorable yawns daily.

“I know, girl. My baby boy is almost a year now. Time flies…” Both of you nod. You start helping her with the reports.

Now you had been taking more missions and were happy to be back at work.

As you slide the pile of papers, Miguel stomps inside the room.

“What are you doing here?�� He asks after spotting you beside Jess.

“Filling reports?” you don’t look at him, your eyes focused on the papers.

“You should be with Magda” His tone annoys you, finally pulling your eyes away from the papers and focusing on your husband.

“I spent the whole morning with her. She’s on daycare with Mayday and Peter” He rolled his eyes. And without another word, he sprint out of the room, leaving you very confused.

Jess kept staring at the door, where Miguel left but then turned to look at you.

“How has Miguel been dealing with parenthood?” you sigh.

“He’s amazing. He makes sure everything is fine with Magda and me. He also makes time to spend together, and…well, now I notice he’s stressed” Jess nodded, placing a new pile of paper on some shelves and opening a virtual screen to check the anomalies that had been reported.

“Maybe he’s…depressed?” her implication makes you break the focus on the report.

Having a baby was something big; you were okay, you felt amazing, just tired, but you felt healthy. However, even when you thought you had psyched Miguel that he was going to be a father again (with numerous methods. Like brief late-night talking, books, blowjobs, and fantastic sex). Maybe it wasn’t enough.

“You think he has it, right?”

“Maybe. Even if I tried to warn him, maybe…Yes.”

“I’ve known him since college, y/n. He’s a good man who loves you and that gorgeous baby girl so much. But he’s Miguel, and his damaged side will never leave.” It would never stop to amaze you how much Miguel changed after the events of Gabriella and her universe collapsing. You had to meet him just after that happened, so you would never know the man he was before that.

“However, you are his new chapter and a new chance to be better again. Just try to talk to him…” Her hand on your shoulder makes you feel supported. You smile, nodding at her.

“Thanks, Jess. I highly appreciate it.”

“Of course, girl. Now let’s finish these damn papers to have a break” a little less worried about Miguel, both Jess, and you had a good moment laughing and finishing the reports.

…

“Dear empress?” You roll your eyes, turning to your right to spot Lyla.

“Why do you call me like that?” You ask, laughing, chewing at your burger. Once again, a meal with your husband’s mask imprinted on the bun was a good idea.

“You are my boss’s wife, and Magda is the legitimate heir to the HQ” Again, you laugh. Lyla was funny and sweet; you really liked her and the dynamic she had with Miguel.

“To be an AI on earth-928, you are using medieval terms, Lyla,” she giggles.

“No, but Peter called. Magda woke up and demanded your company” You can’t even find yourself mad or annoyed. Your baby needed you after three hours separated.

Thankfully, you had taken a shower after the mission you had. Magda couldn’t be held with toxic particles and lizard’s spit.

“I’m on my way,” Lyla pretends to high-five you before opening the door of the balcony area where you were eating.

…

Soft cries flood the big daycare room. Lyla and you exchange looks before she speaks.

“Yikes, that’s my cue, bye bye” With that, she disappears.

When you open the door, you see Peter Pavitr, Gwen, and Miles showing baby Magda some toys to stop her from crying. Mayday is beside her, sitting, looking confused.

The closer you look, the better you can see Magda in a short sleeves onesie and her matted hair hidden under a little flower diadem.

“Oh, look, Magda. Mama is here,” Peter tells your kid. She’s very tiny, yet active to be four months old. Your eyes light up after taking her in your arms.

“Hi Bebé, I missed you so much,” Magda coos and plays with her little fists.

“Thank you so much for entertaining her, guys,” you tell your friends. They say it’s nothing. But you feel loved and welcomed, how well they treated your baby, and how much effort they made to include her even at her young age.

“It’s nothing. But… now you owe me in particular,” Pavitr says with a smile. You wonder what he wants. But then, he pulls out a pink envelope with orange and golden details and hands it to you.

“Happy Diwali season…” Immediately, you remember the party he mentioned months ago when you were still pregnant.

“Pavitr! This is so sweet, thank you” he offered a hug, which you accepted.

Few people dared to spread love like anything, and Pav was one of them.

“I want to see your little family there. And all of your too,” the guy threats smiley. Instant happiness succumbs you because you can’t wait to be at that party.

It was rare when you had the opportunity to hang out with every one of your HQ friends. Jess, Peter, and Mayday are the most recurrent since Miguel was very close to them as they were to you.

“I’ll bring my best clothes, man,” Peter calls before Pavitr leaves through a portal.

“I’m so excited!” You squeal along, Gwen.

Peter rolls his eyes, taking care of Mayday.

“We need some traditional dresses,” you comment.

“Oh, and we have to get Mayday and Magda matching dresses” The thought makes you die out of cuteness. Even Peter seems happy, claiming he will take many pictures if MJ can’t make it.

It has been a long time since you had a big party to attend.

The parties with your family were small gatherings where Miguel would likely get drunk with your father. Your mother and grandma would help you with Magda, and you had to be active.

So yeah, you were excited to celebrate Diwali with your friends and family.

…

That night, you are cooking some tray of peaches with cream muffins and jericallas, Miguel’s favorite desserts. Magda is sleeping in the pink carrier you bought for her and you (cause Miguel refused to wear every single day that carrier he got a grey one).

Dinner was quiet, which was weird in the past, but slowly grew normal.

You had wanted to ask Miguel about his possible PPND, but he always brushed it off before you could start.

Learning to look at the oven, there are five minutes left. You go to Magda’s room to put her in the crib.

You take some minutes to see her. She’s a carbon copy of Miguel. The sun-kissed skin, the dark hair, and you suspected she would have his spider abilities rather than yours. Oh, and her round puffy cheeks that you constantly filled with kisses.

You loved being a mother.

You preferred your own house on your earth; it was smaller, cozier, and homey.

And Miguel’s place was… an expansive apartment with minimalist colors and designs. It was still home… but not the same.

Still, you loved your family. No matter where you were.

So you clean the kitchen as the muffins cool off.

Miguel spent the whole evening locked in his lab. Claiming that he was finishing a new device for the HQ. Which you believed at the beginning, but soon you felt like he didn’t want to spend time with you, Magda, leaving the baby and yourself to play and read alone.

So you remembered what Jess said. Maybe Miguel was depressed or having a mix of emotions after Magda arrived.

Slowly, you open the door of the lab. He’s sitting, back facing you. He looks massive, being slightly hunched to work.

“Corazón…” you call him; he doesn’t flinch.

Miguel sees through the corner of his eye your silhouette, holding something.

A little plate, a jericalla, and a muffin slide in front of his face.

The smell of peaches and cream cheese invaded him. The small was enough to set him in a better mood.

“I made your favorites…” he knows he’s not the best husband material. But he was constantly irritated, and the last he wanted was to take it out on you or Magda. He would kill himself if something like that happened.

“Oh, muñeca. You didn’t have to “

“Yes, I had to… Miguel?… Are you okay?” You ask shyly, honestly scared of his reaction.

“What do you mean?”

“Lately… you’ve been weird. Is the work too much? I can take more; the master's program is basically finished. I have time, and with Magda-“ you want to find an answer before he even answers.

“Magda should be your priority.”

“She is. But I’m concerned about you too.”

“I’m fine.” You sigh. It wouldn’t be easy, you knew that.

“Just… you must know you can tell me anything, amor. I’m your wife…” his tense shoulders relax when you hug him from behind.

“I know that, mami.” A little smile peaks on your face, so you lean down to kiss your husband’s cheek.

He giggles before capturing your hands to give you a proper kiss.

“We love you so much, Miguel,” you add one last time.

“I love you and Magda too” Another little peck, and you're out of his lab.

Only that you tried to ignore the pain in your throat as tears threatened to spill as you lay in bed, waiting for him to come.

…

The sound of a phone taking pictures hits Miguel. When he enters the main bedroom of your house, he sees you in a traditional Indian gown in hot pink and orange colors, along with gold details.

He can’t help but think that his wife is perfect and that you gave him the best present ever; a daughter.

“Look at you, Magda!. You look gorgeous, my love,” she coos, stretching in the bed while chewing her feet. It makes you laugh, and Miguel feels relaxed.

You are taking pictures of Magda, and when Miguel gets closer, he sees his daughter in a colorful linen dress.

You turn to face your husband. Surprised to see him smiling.

“Look, Miguel. She’s totally ready for this party,” he finds himself sighing.

“Do we really need to go?” If you had to be honest, things with Miguel weren’t their best.

He continued to act desperate, less soft, and constantly irritated.

Last night, it didn’t work out.

He was fucking you on your back, but he was being rough. And not the type of wild you liked. It was rough where. You felt like a rag doll like it wasn’t lovemaking.

“Mig-Miguel. Can… Can we stop?” He had been so close, seconds away from painting your walls with cum. But you asked him to stop. That never happened.

“…Why?” He asked, confused and slightly angered.

“You’re hurting me…” it tears him. But the irritating demon creeped out for worse.

“Right, sorry. It won’t happen again,” without another word, he slipped out of you, locking you inside the bathroom and leaving you heavily confused.

Before last night, things had been like a rollercoaster, with ups and downs. They only didn’t make sense to you because you couldn’t understand your husband. He was taking care of pushing you away, and you were starting to feel hurt.

“It’ll be fun; it could help us to have a little escapade” he knows you want things to be better. But it seemed like the more you tried, the more he got frustrated. He was starting to believe Lyla about having PPND. And it scares him so much, already afraid of hurting you and Magda. So he had been a little secluded to avoid that.

In his mind, it was a good idea. But sure, it was not the best option.

“Fine. Do you want me to wear something specific?” His question made you pout.

“Just this…” you hand him a linen shirt in a cream tone. He sighed but surprised you by taking Magda in his arms and leaning to snuggle with you. Her tiny lips latched onto your neck, searching for milk, and Miguel peppered your cheeks with kisses. You started laughing at the tickles.

“Miguel! Stop!” You cry, laughing.

“Tell Mama she looks beautiful, Magda,” feeling her matted hair, your warms lips.

Of course, there were still some good moments. Like having a moment together, the three of you. Where there was only love in the air.

Miguel knew he had to change. He couldn’t lose his family.

Not again…

…

Whenever there was an anomaly on Pavitr’s earth, you would gladly stay longer than necessary. The colorful and loud city was always a sight.

But seeing the party he had spent months discussing was still a surprise.

There was a big rooftop with stone railings and details. Many plants partially covered the floor and every surface available.

And the colorful decorations in fuchsia and purple tones were breathtaking.

The Festival of Lights was the most exciting part for you. It reminded you of the movie of Tangled and how much you loved that movie.

The whole meaning of Diwali was beautiful, and having the opportunity to celebrate it with the locals, with your family, was even more special.

“This is beautiful…” you mumble, a big smile growing as you carry Magda. She seems attracted to the music and people talking around.

“Miguel! y/n!” Both of you turn around to see Peter and Mayday.

“AWW!” You let out once your daughter is reunited with Mayday. Both have the same linen dress, only that Mayday has her hair in a messy bun, and Magda… well, she was losing hair.

“They look adorable, Peter” Miguel says nothing, but he wants to smile so badly.

“I know; MJ took a whole album of her.”

“I can bet…” you add smiley. Peter looks at Miguel, and the tall and broad man looks annoyed, which makes him sigh.

“You look good, man,” Peter tries to soothe the strange air.

“Thanks.” It’s flat and cold. You are starting to feel anxious about Miguel and his consent mood swings.

“Man, you have to be happy. You are here with your gorgeous baby and wife. Smile…” You are surprised and thankful for your friend, not expecting him to speak.

To your dismay, Pavitr appears to say hi, but it’s not the best moment.

“Not now, Peter. You don’t know anything; stay away from this. It’s my family,” you frown, not liking Miguel’s tone. You and Pavitr exchanged looks before you turned to face your angry husband.

“Miguel, What’s wrong with you? Peter says it for good” he looks down at you, shocked to hear that you are not on his side.

“You’re letting him discuss our problems now?” To make the moment more stressful, Jess comes too; she looks confused at the scene but soon understands what is happening.

“What he said is obvious to everyone, Miguel. You’ve been off; we want you to be yourself again.”

“I am okay!” some people stare when your husband raises his voice.

“Miguel…” Jess warns him, hoping to avoid a bigger problem.

You came to a limit. All the weeks of dealing with an unstable husband, taking care of Magda on your own, working your part as a head of the spider society.

Indeed, you didn’t care that your friends were hearing.

“No, you’re not. You have been avoiding us!. We are your family, Miguel. If you weren’t sure of having a wife and kid again, you should have said it sooner.”

Ohh… everyone grows quiet. Peter holds your shoulder with his free hand, and Pavitr can’t believe what is happening.

“Don’t…” it’s all he says, but you cut him off.

“Maybe you’ve found someone else. Cause you’re rejecting Magda and clearly me. You don’t come home early; it certainly looks as if you were fucking someone else” Your baby is getting fussy, and your fears grow the more you talk. Now only waiting for his response.

“Yeah? Do you really think that low of me? Maybe I should go and make it real!” his words tear you a little. Making it impossible to not start tearing up.

Miguel realized what he had said when he heard Magda crying.

And he looked at you again; you were also crying.

He’s so embarrassed.

“Please take her for some minutes…” you say, handing Magda to Jess. The woman nods with a sad face.

And everyone looks at how you leave the party.

“I’ll go find her; please let me…” Pavitr tells Miguel, but he only stands there looking like an asshole.

“You’re right…” Miguel tells Peter, with his back facing him.

“I just want you and her to be happy.…” your husband nods, and Peter takes it as an apology and understanding of him.

“Can we talk?” Jess asks. Miguel knows he’s in trouble.

Both adults walk through the people to the most secluded area. Which seems to be a little garden.

“Do you want this baby?” Jess asks him, referring to the sleepy Magda in her arms.

“Or was it just for the lust of getting y/n pregnant?” It’s straight to the point, and it terrifies Miguel.

“Jess, you know I’ve always wanted a family,” he answers calmly.

“Then why the drama?. Everything seemed fine the whole pregnancy.”

“Lyla was right. I think I have PPND…” Jess sighed in relief because at least Miguel had an idea of his problem.

“That’s what I thought.” She replied.

“And now with this…I don’t wanna lose my girls” To hear Miguel in a vulnerable state was unusual. His eyes went straight to Magda. He walked closer to stroke her cheek.

He felt like a monster for what he did.

“You won’t lose them, Miguel. Everyone knows this baby, and y/n are beyond in love with you” Magdalena was his gift. And Miguel would always thank you for that.

The least he could do was be a supportive father and good husband.

“Go and talk with y/n. Then we can enjoy this peaceful party. It is almost time for the Festival of Lights” Miguel remembers how excited you were to see the lights. He worries that he won’t find you in time. Jess places a hand on his shoulder.

“Go. I’ll take care of Magda with Peter” The exit is crowded, so he hurries.

The streets are packed, people are celebrating, and some fireworks start.

Miguel ventures into the busy streets in hopes of finding you.

…

When Pavitr finds you, you are sitting on the long stairs that were the entrance of a temple. Your knees are pressed to your chest, your face hiding, and he can hear you sobbing.

“Oh… y/n,” he says, sitting beside you and hugging you. You are startled, but soon you are calmed to see your friend.

“I’m sorry for ruining the vibe of your party, Pav” He shakes his head, smiling.

“Nah, first of all, it’s my parent’s party. Second of all, nobody noticed what happened.”

“This was supposed to be a beautiful night. Not the start of the end of my marriage.”

“It’s not the end of your marriage, y/n. I can read people very well. Miguel and you hold an excellent dharma” You lift your head, looking at your friend. He offers you a kind smile that makes you feel comfortable.

“Call me ignorant, but what is specifically dharma?”

“It means a lot of things in my religion. But in this case, it means you and your husband have good energy. The connection is strong; there’s a balance that holds the love. And all of that is what Magda receives. This is just a bad season…” you analyze his words, trying to accept them.

“Then why do I feel like it’s not my fault? I feel that he needs to apologize…”

“Oh, because he does need to apologize. What he said was wrong. Even if he’s the one having a bad emotional moment, he caused this” It’s incredible how easy it was for Pavitr to understand when he was still a late teenager, only a couple of years younger than you, but wiser.

“Thank you, Pavitr,” he nods, hugging you again.

“Now come back, please. Gwen and Miles have been looking for you.”

“I’ll go. I need some minutes.”

He smiles one last time before leaving you alone again.

You sigh, and more tears spill, but quietly.

For a second, you don’t want to think about anything; you stare a the street in front of you.

The people laugh, scream, and look happy. A lot of them have the little lights in their hands already.

You try to savor the moment, so you sigh and breathe with your eyes closed, letting more tears run down your cheeks.

You could either fight for you and the love of your life and daughter… or move on, even if it was early to say it.

You don’t come to an answer because when you open your eyes, Miguel is on the stairs, going straight to you.

You’re startled, unconsciously standing up. You know you can’t enter the temple but you want to be away from Miguel.

He’s fast enough to stop you, grabbing your forearm.

“No. Not right now, Miguel,” you say firmly, with a broken voice.

“Wait. Please, bonita…” he hates to see you like that.

Finding you alone, crying on those stairs when everyone was happy and celebrating, was painful to him. Even more when he was the cause of it.

“I don’t want this night to be over with us fighting, please.”

You don’t say anything. You stare at him as he stays some steps under; you have him straight face to face.

“I didn’t mean anything I said before. I would never find someone else. Never, y/n” You remember his words.

Maybe I should go and make it real.

“That’s how it starts…” you say coldly. He shakes his head, grabbing both of your cheeks.

“No. No, mi amor… I only have eyes for you, and that’s how it’ll remain for the rest of my life,” he means it. Miguel fell in love with you one summer, months after meeting you. And from the day he accepted he was in love, the feeling never changed; it only increased.

“I must have… men postpartum depression” Immediately, you’re relieved. Because you had your suspicions, knowing that was the reason for the little downgrade of marriage soothed your worries about him cheating.

“Why have you always avoided it?.” You ask him. He only sighs, his hands leaving your cheeks to land on your shoulders.

“I don’t know. I guess I just… didn’t want to believe it?” you know he’s telling the truth. Miguel never lied; if he ever did, he would never babble. But he was looking defeated, showing vulnerability.

“It was stupid. I should have told you… agh, ¿soy un pendejo, no?” You nod, looking at him in the eye. Savoring his embarrassment, but not in a toxic way. You appreciated that he was recognizing his errors.

“We’ve talked about… Gabriella and what happened. But, now that Magda is finally here… I got scared again” It’s inevitable to not grow fond of him. He was guilty but also a victim of his own mind. And it was your role to help him.

“We’re not going anywhere, Miguel. I Can assure you that this family will last forever. Because I won’t let anything happen,” sometimes Miguel forgot that he married a brave young woman. Who showed him what he thought was lost in the world. And gave him a daughter to heal his past and grow better.

“I’d be lost without you and Magdalena, corazón. I’m so sorry for making you think otherwise.”

“And I’m sorry for not pressuring you to get help,” he smiles.

“No, y/n. You’ve done nothing wrong but being the most lovely and perfect mother and wife ever,” you blush. And Miguel will never stop loving his power to make you feel loved and blushed.

“Will you forgive me?”

“Are you going to the doctor?” He nods, so you sigh.

“And promise that this will NEVER ever happen again, Miguel O’Hara. Swear it…” he chuckles, but he knows it’s serious.

“I swear, this will never happen again. I swear it for my love for my wife and daughter”.

You smile, and that’s all Miguel needs to move his hands one last time. To your waist, to pull you closer.

As he hugs you, he enjoys the smell of your hair. That watermelon shampoo you loved to use. He’s at home.

“How can I begin with my apology?” He asks.

“Just hold me. Never… never, Miguel. Never let me go” his eyes get watery, and immediately his hands find their way to hold you, brush your hips, and lay his head on top of yours.

“I’m never letting go of the woman that saved my life” Tears flow across your face, but a smile grows too. No matter Miguel’s walls' height, you had all the power to crash them, and for the best.

“I love you, bonita,” you nod, sobbing and giggling simultaneously. Squeezed in his arms, you lift your head and smash his lips.

It’s warm, slow, and sweet. Both of you have flashbacks of the first kiss you shared. And it fueled the love, making the kiss even more adorable.

“I love you too. So, so much…” Between every so, you kiss his cheeks. It tingles him, so he laughs.

“Stop it, Nena” For some seconds, you stare at each other in silence, feeling the love slowly returning to reign.

You are thankful for having a husband like him. Someone who had problems like everyone else but would always stand up for his family and try to make everything better.

“Hear me out. I’ll never be able to give you back, Gabriella. But Magda and I will love and cherish you for her. This has been a big change for us, never forget that, Miguel” Magda was his light, just like you were the dawn he enjoyed every day. But the dread of his past wasn’t ready to leave yet. Nothing would compare to the time he had with Gabriella, but nothing would change the fact that she was gone.

“I’ll get over that someday. But now I have my girls, and it’s perfect. Simply perfect…” there was something about you that Miguel wouldn’t trade for anything. You gave him happiness, comfort, and a daughter.

The canon never warned him that you would appear, yet, there you were, willing to listen and help him. Even after all…

“I like the sound of that…. I can schedule an appointment with Doctor Spider-Man. He knows everything…”

“Yeah, that would be fine. I also think we should have a second honeymoon” Your eyes widen.

“What? Really?”

The first honeymoon was a fever dream. Almost a month in Oaxaca, in a boutique historic hotel, and fantastic food, outside activities, and… tons of sex. Thankfully you were cautious with protection, cause otherwise, Magda would have been a honeymoon baby.

“Yeah. Or we could have our first family trip. Magda is young enough to still make it pass as a second honeymoon” his playful tone makes you aware of what he meant, and it burns your cheeks.

“I’m also sorry about what happened last time we were…”

“I know,” you quickly answer.

“I would never waste the opportunity again. If I could go back in time, I would have apologized better and rewarded you with a big orgasm,” you laugh, punching his rock-hard chest.

“Miguel, shut up!. We’re at the entrance of a temple” he looks with curiosity and realizes it is true.

“Shit. Sorry… okay. Can we go back to the party?” You nod, and you gladly take it when he offers his hand.

…

When you make it back. The Festival of Lights is starting. Jess hurries and looks between you and him.

“Everything alright?” You nod.

“Thank you so much, Jess,” she says. It’s nothing, handing you a smiley Magda, who happily coos at you and Miguel.

The man smiles at her, kisses her hair, and takes her little hand.

“Oh, I got some perfect spots,” she adds. The balcony's edge is where a lake looks like a mirror with lights.

Peter, Hobie, Gwen, and Miles gather with you and your family.

But Pavitr leans closer.

“I told you it was all about the dharma you two hold,” the young man says, pointing at you and Michel.

Your husband frowns, confused.

“Dharma?”

“I’ll explain it later, man,” Pavitr answers smiley, leaving.

Miguel takes Magda in his arms, and he feels better; the light weight of his daughter and your head resting on his bicep was everything he needed as everyone watched the lights go up and illuminate the sky.

It was time to let go of his past at all. His present was right in his arms, and you were right.

As he would fight to keep his family, Miguel knew you would too, and that was a lot to say.

___________________________________

Sends ideas / requests 4 Miguel. I’m planning something based on hummingbird (I love that song so much) <3.

I’m seeing Taylor Swift tomorrow SEND HELP OMG :0

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