#so youre sent to infiltrate them

[irisintheafterglow]

do the people want the suguru pulling reader out of an undercover mission fic yes or yes

[gothgoblinbabe]

The Art Of Make-believe Matrimony

Logan Howlett x afab!reader

Summary: You can’t stand each other, so it’s a mystery to you and Logan why you’re sent out together on an assignment. To make it worse, you’d have to act much closer than you really were.

Warnings:  mutant!reader (no specific power mentioned, though), afab!reader, enemies to lovers, swearing,  fake dating (technically fake marriage), mentions of violence, a little bit of suggestive stuff, a little bit of fluff i guess, and mild alcohol consumption. I think that's all but if i missed any, please let me know! also this is def loosely inspired by the movies 'Mr. and Mrs. Smith' and '10 Things I Hate About You'

Word Count: 5K

part 2

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ .

You hate the way he dresses.

You hate his stupid hair.

You hate the pet names he calls you.

You hate his voice.

You hate his hazel eyes.

You hate his smile.

You hate Logan Howlett.

It was no secret and neither was the fact that he couldn’t stand you either. You bickered like a married couple, constantly fought till you bled when you were training and couldn’t go a day without one of you insulting the other. Truthfully, it was probably because you were too alike - fire versus fire - and knew exactly how to press each other's buttons.

That’s why you were both confused when you stood in Charles’ office - dumbfounded expression on your faces - as he told you that he assigned you to a mission together.

“Oh, no way,” you nearly laughed, thinking it was a joke.

“Yeah, not happening,” Logan agreed. It may have been the only thing you’ve ever agreed on.

“That’s unfortunate for both of you, as I am sending you anyway. You are the only capable people that aren’t already out on an assignment or teaching a class full time.”

“How do you expect us to do it without killing each other?” you raised your eyebrows.

“You are adults. I trust you will navigate that on your own.”

Logan scoffed beside you, his arms crossed over his chest.

You sighed, closing your eyes in frustration and biting the bullet, “what do we have to do?”

“There is a safe hidden in the home of a very wealthy socialite who’s been involved in orchestrating attacks on mutants - injecting them with a serum that replaces their mutation gene with that of a normal human,” Charles began to explain.

Your chest felt heavy. It always made you anxious and a little ill when you’d hear the stories of people who hated you so much that they’d go as far as to harm or violate you in some way, all in the name of trying to rid the earth of you completely or turn you into one of them.

“The only known sample of the serum is locked in that safe,” he continued, “and I will need you to retrieve it. You are to infiltrate a gathering being held in her home, obtain the contents of the safe and return promptly.”

“So, we’re…going to a party?” Logan asked with one eyebrow raised.

“A dinner party,” Charles replied, “and another thing - you must not attend as yourselves. You’ve been invited on the good word of another guest - someone we trust - but you’ve been invited as a married couple to avoid arousing suspicion.”

He must’ve been getting some sick enjoyment from this.

“Married couple,” you repeated, your eyes narrowed, “Us. You want us to pretend to be a couple.”

“What, do I have to like - touch her? I’m not doing that,” Logan piped up.

“Oh, i’m so disappointed,” you rolled your eyes, sarcasm clear in your voice, “Fuck off.”

“You fuck off.”

“No, you fuck off.”

“No, you.”

“I said it first!”

“Enough,” Charles interrupted, “you will be attending as Mr. and Mrs. Smith.”

“Huh,” Logan hummed, “that’s creative.”

“Its inconspicuous,” he replied.

“What are our first names, then?”

“You have creative liberty. I trust you will come up with something just as unremarkable.”

“How about Sid and Nancy?” you scoffed, chuckling a little in disbelief. 

“Does that mean I get to stab you?”

“You’d miss.”

Charles had his head in his hands.

“How about Jack and Jill?”

You both turned your heads to him when he spoke, pausing the back and forth between you that you were sure to continue later. You glanced at Logan and shrugged, indifferent to the names.

“That’ll work,” Logan mirrored your actions.

“Lovely. Tomorrow evening at five. I will have the address ready. In the meantime, here,” he opened his palm and placed two rings on the table, “these are your wedding bands.”

You huffed and took the smaller of the two, Logan picking up the plain silver band. Yours was simple - a false diamond in the middle and two smaller ones on each side.

“What, you couldn’t get me anything bigger?” you joked to Logan, holding up the ring. 

“Oh, you want somethin’ big?”

Your eyes went wide and you elbowed him in the arm, groaning in disgust, “Gross.”

—----------------

Five o’clock came fast, your nerves seemingly increasing the speed of time. You’d made a mess of your wardrobe looking for something to wear that was comfortable, but not too ‘you’. What would a rich person wear to a dinner party? How the hell were you supposed to know?

Some nice pants, a blouse and complimenting shoes would have to do - it was the only thing you had that looked relatively formal. Adding some jewelry made it just a little more convincing. 

You went down the stairs to meet Logan at the front door, dreading the coming hours. You turned the corner and finally saw him, leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets. He wore a white t-shirt tucked into his jeans, his boots, and he’d traded his usual leather jacket for a suit jacket. He actually cleaned up pretty nice, but you weren’t gonna tell him that.

He heard your footsteps and turned towards the sound. He could feel the sweat starting to form at the back of his neck. 

He’d never seen you in anything nice like that - you never really had any occasions to dress up for - and he hated how much he liked it. Your pants hugged you perfectly, your blouse was buttoned low and you even had on a little bit of makeup. 

“You don’t look too bad,” he managed to comment, opening the door for you.

“That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” you realized aloud, the both of you heading towards Logan’s truck, “You look alright.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Smith.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Smith.”

He opened the car door for you, uncharacteristically gentlemen-like.

You shot him an odd look and got in anyway.

“I’m practicing,” He explained, shutting your door and walking around to slide into his seat, “can’t have anyone thinkin’ I’m a shit husband.”

“Good luck.”

“Uh-oh,” Logan had an amused expression, his eyes glued to the road as you began moving, “that’s not wife behavior, sunshine.”

“Bite Me.”

He clicked his tongue, “Feisty. Oh - I can use that when people ask about us! I’ll say it's one of your absolute worst qualities that any man would be repulsed by, but that our love is blind.”

You scoffed, “Great, and I’ll get to tell them you spend sixteen hours brushing your hair into cat ears and shed all over the bathroom like an animal.”

“See - now, that one seems a little personal.”

“It is.”

“Just pretend for a night that I’m the man of your dreams, okay?” he asked, “pretend I’m, uh - I don’t know, some celebrity guy you have a crush on.”

You were silent for a second, engrossed in thought, “you look nothing like Hugh Jackman.”

“Who? You know what - sure, pretend I'm him, alright? Just squint.”

Truthfully - and you’d rather be stabbed than admit it - Logan wasn’t far off from who you could picture yourself with. Strong, kind of handsome, good with kids. He was humble, most of the time. He was just terribly annoying and way too cocky.

It wasn’t long before he was shifting the truck into park and yanking the keys from the ignition. You let him open your door and walked beside him up the front steps.

“You ready, Jack?” you teased.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Jill.”

He rang the doorbell and you stood awkwardly, eyes scanning your surroundings. The house was huge - probably only a bit smaller than the mansion - and modern, something probably built in the last ten years. The front lawn was impeccable, as were the marble statues strategically placed between foliage and flora. 

The door opened and you inhaled sharply, trying to prepare yourself to lie your ass off.

“Hello! You must be Mr. and Mrs. Smith! So lovely to meet you, please - come in,” a woman ushered you in, her neck and ears decorated in pearls. You recognized her immediately, Charles having shown you both a picture of the hostess beforehand. You politely greeted her and introduced yourselves, already scanning the room for an emergency exit in case things went sour.

“So,” she continued talking, leading you to sit in the living room with the other mingling guests,”tell me a little about yourselves! John wasn’t very descriptive when he mentioned you. What do you do for work?”

Whoever John was, you silently thanked him.

“Uh, well,” you began, nervously glancing at Logan, “I’m a bank teller.”

Plain, boring, inconspicuous, 

She then looked to Logan expectantly, awaiting his answer. 

“Cage fighter.”

Jesus Christ. You were glaring daggers into the side of his smiling face and he pretended not to notice.

“Really?” the woman in front of you inquired, a hand on her chest. You watched her eyes scan him up and down, landing on the pecs prominent through his shirt. You scoffed out of instinct, faking a cough to cover it up.

‘Oh, yeah. Undefeated MMA champ.”

You looked away to hide the scowl on your face when your eyes locked on the vodka bottle sitting on the table a few feet away with a collection of other booze. Bingo.

“Will you excuse me for just a moment?” you smiled politely and walked away before Logan could protest, leaving him to his own devices.

You twisted the top off the bottle and picked up a glass, filling it with Vodka and some soda that was left on the table.You almost walked away with it, planning to keep it in your hands until you felt your nerves subside, until you remembered you were supposed to be a wife. Wives brought their husbands drinks, right? Not doing so would look rude and rude might blow your cover. So, you reluctantly picked up another glass and filled it partially with whiskey, knowing it was something he’d drink. You happened to glance across to the kitchen and notice a neat little rack of spices and condiments on the counter. A bottle of soy sauce was front and center, like a message from the universe, and you giggled to yourself as you snatched the bottle and hid it up your sleeve - this could be a good night if you made it entertaining.

You returned to Logan with both glasses, handing him the one filled with significantly darker liquid. He looked a little surprised but accepted it anyway.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said with narrowed eyes, a look that asked ‘what are you up to now?’

You simply nodded in acknowledgement, smiling at the hostess still standing in front of you.

“She’s a keeper,” he continued, holding the glass up to his mouth, “ always knows exactly what I like.”

You bit back a snicker as you watched him tilt the glass and finally take a sip.

His eyes went to yours immediately.  He pulled the glass from his lips, mouth still obviously full of whiskey and soy sauce. If looks could kill, you’d be long dead.

“Good, honey?” you smiled wide then, taking a sip of your own drink. 

“Mhm,” he hummed, clearly fighting a grimace. He swallowed and nearly gagged, coughing into his fist, “mhm, just a little strong.”

“Oh,” the hostess began, “Jack was just about to tell us how you met!”

A couple of guests had gathered in the same spot, all lingering in a semicircle. Logan was quite the charmer and it wasn’t a surprise that he already had a couple of women gawking at him, hanging on his every word as if any of it was true. 

“Was he?” your tone was shrill but you attempted to appear playful, lightly smacking him on the arm, “Oh, honey, you should really let me tell it.”

Whatever he was about to come up with, you hoped it was not in the same outlandish category as cage fighting. Before you could begin, though, he dismissively waved his hand in your direction.

“No, no - you’re a little forgetful, sweetheart,” his grin was mischievous as he turned to speak to the surrounding guests, “so, it all started with a tshirt competition at a bar where the girls had to - “

“Nope! Nope,” you interjected, doing your best to keep your tone light and shaking your head, “haha - that must have been another girl, honey!”

That earned a few chuckles from the guests around you and you took the opportunity while everyone's attention was on you to try and spin a tale of your own.

“So, we actually met a couple years ago,” you started, mulling over what true details to sprinkle in or if you should make it up entirely, “uh - in a library.”

It wasn’t entirely untrue. You’d been at the mansion for a couple days before you bumped into him in the library while gathering books to try and put together your first lesson plan. You had a cup of coffee in one hand and a stack of books in the other - admittedly stupid - but you’d always been careful. Except for that once. 

You had a book open in your arms, resting atop the stack you already gathered. You were walking and reading - again, admittedly not very smart - when you bumped into someone, spilling coffee on both of you and sending the stack of books to the floor with an audible thump. 

“Fuck, sorry -” you began to apologize, finally looking up to the strangers face. It was Logan, of course, though you didn’t know that at the time. You remember thinking he was handsome with his scruffy mutton chops and well groomed hair - until he opened his mouth.

“What the hell is wrong with you, kid?”

You knew it was partially your fault but were irked by his attitude.

“Dude, you weren’t paying attention either, obviously!” you snapped back, looking down at the beige stain now adorning your white button up.

“I’m not the one who carries coffee and a shit ton of books at the same time.”

“Whatever.”

That was your grand introduction, neither of you even exchanging names.

Logan remembered it about the same way you did, though the version he tells is a little different. He loved to tell people that when you bumped into him, it was because you were so lovestruck that you just walked right into him. The part he always left out, though, was the first thing he thought when he saw you. He’d scolded you before even looking up to see who you were and when he had, he wished he’d reacted a little differently. 

You were beautiful, even with coffee spilt all over yourself. You looked like a girl he’d only ever dreamed of, all the way down to the color of your hair and eyes. Unfortunately, he’d already been an asshole. So, from then on, that was basically your shtick - bickering over little things, calling each other names - all to the amusement of everyone around you. It wasn’t meant to be funny, but it was obvious to everyone else that the kind of teasing you did was only because you had feelings for one another - like two elementary school kids - and neither one of you seemed to know how to approach it. The mask would slip sometimes for either one of you - when he’d place a hand on your lower back, the times he’d managed to pin you to the mat during training - and you’d always find yourself staring at the ceiling that night, overthinking every interaction you’d had until the sun came up. He was never any better off, pacing in his room to try and decipher what the hell it was he actually felt for you.

Anyway, you decided to stick to the real story, minus the part where you insulted each other.

“We bumped into each other, literally, and I had coffee and a bunch of books in my arms. So, I drop the books, coffee spills everywhere - of course. Then I looked up at him, and..” you paused, the truth caught in a lump in your throat.

“And it was love at first sight,” Logan added, grinning down at you, “for both of us.”

His eyes were trained on yours and he continued to contribute to the story.

“The second I saw her, I fell in love.”

He was still looking at you. Why was he still looking at you like that? You were supposed to be husband and wife, right, but he was leaning into it far heavier than you expected. It felt like you were the only ones in the room.

A couple ‘aw’s were shared between guests and you smiled politely at the reminder that you were in fact not the only people in the room. As the conversation switched to another topic and someone else began to speak, you felt Logan’s hand at the back of your head, gently playing with your hair. Your face was pink - he was being too nice.

A short while later, you were sitting on the couch beside him, listening to someone’s drawn out story that you stopped paying attention to after six minutes.

“I’m gonna go take a piss,” Logan uttered unceremoniously and stood from the couch. He disappeared into the house and not even a minute later, another guy came to sit in his spot.

“Hey,” he put his arm around the back of the couch, his fingertips brushing your shoulder, “I don’t think we’ve met.”

You looked at the fingers grazing your shoulder and sat forward to shrug them off, “nope.”

He told you his name and you couldn’t have cared any less, deciding to actually tune back into the story being told rather than converse with him. He was alright looking, but his approach was far too off putting. 

“So, did you come alone?”

You rolled your eyes at his question, opening your mouth to answer before he cut you off.

“Cause It looks like it, and I can’t stand to see a pretty girl alone.”

You groaned in disgust, hoping if you were dry enough in your answers, he’d leave you be.

“mhm.”

It wasn’t really an answer to anything, just a noise of affirmation. You hoped he’d get the hint then, but of course, he didn’t. In what would probably be the stupidest thing he’d done that night, the guy moved his arm from the back of the couch so he could squeeze your thigh. Right as you were about to tell him to fuck off, you saw a hand grip his shoulder from behind. Logan was leaning over the sofa, bringing his face a little lower so he wouldn’t cause a scene, his dog tags hanging when he leaned forward. He had a death grip on the guy's shoulder while he used his other hand to steady himself against the sofa. 

“Hey, bub.”

The guy looked a little terrified, to say the least, but Logan didn’t let up there.

“Do you always go around hittin’ on people’s wives? Or is it just mine?”

His eyes were wide and he looked like he wanted to run but that wasn’t going to happen as long as he was in his grip. 

“I-I didn’t, uh, I didn’t know she - “ the guy sputtered, trying to nervously laugh it off.

“Mhm. Hey, tell you what - why don’t you leave my girl alone and maybe I’ll give you a five minute head start to get the fuck out of here.”

He let go of his shoulder and that was enough to drive him away, the guy scurrying to his feet and finding somewhere else to mingle.

You didn’t know why you found yourself smiling the moment he’d said ‘my girl’. You rid yourself of it with a shake of your head, reminding yourself you were there to do a job.

“Hey,” Logan leaned himself down even further so he could whisper, “I gotta show you something, c’mere.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him but got up to follow. He stopped in the hallway in front of the bathroom, looked around to see if anyone would notice you, and promptly dragged you in with him before closing and locking the door. He hit the light switch and you looked around.

“Do you always take girls to the bathroom on first dates?” you teased, crossing your arms.

“You’d have to go out with me to find out,” he remarked, “besides, it’s not like that. Look.”

You watched him get low to the ground to open the cupboard under the sink and you crouched with him, following his pointing finger to the wood paneling in the back. It looked like a fake back - a board that appeared to be the back of the cabinet but definitely had something behind it. There was a sliver of metal visible behind it when you shined your phone’s flashlight.

“I figured we should look everywhere, so while I was in here I was checking it out - saw that. You think that’s it?”

“Could be,” you answered honestly, “that, or it’s some sort of electrical box we’re about to rip out of the wall. It’s an odd hiding spot for a safe.”

“Not really. Think about it - where's the first place you’d look for a safe?”

“Bedroom or office, maybe.”

“Right, and where's one of the last places you’d check?” he gestured to the open cabinet.

“Under…the sink,” you realized aloud, looking between him and the wooden board. 

“Exactly,” he nodded, swiping the contents of the cabinet onto the floor to gain access, “here’s the thing, though - I’m too big to get in there.”

He could maybe stick his head in, but in order to duck under the pipes from the sink, he’d need to have shoulders that were much less broad.

You sighed, knowing what that meant.

“Alright, alright - move. This better be it.”

You reluctantly crawled under the sink and into the cabinet on your hands and knees. You yanked the wooden board with all your strength and it came free, revealing a metal safe.

“Got it! You were right, it’s the safe.”

Logan simply hummed in response, clearing his throat. You figured he’d be a little more enthusiastic. 

Truthfully, he was too busy staring at your ass in the nice pants you were wearing to pay attention. When he heard your voice, he shook his head, as if to rid himself of the thoughts he was having about you so he could think of a response. He’d always thought you were beautiful, but seeing you all dressed up drove him a little crazy.

“Yeah? Is it locked?”

You inspected the metal box, holding the absurdly large padlock hooked around the latch that opened the door.

“Uh-huh. Padlock - we’re gonna need the numbers.”

“No, we don’t. Bring it out.”

You did as you were told, crawling back out with the safe under your arm and placing it on the bathroom rug. It was a pretty small one - probably a little bigger than a basketball.

Logan picked it up and set it on the counter beside the sink. He unsheathed a claw and sliced through the metal latch that held the door closed in one swift motion.

“Well, yeah - that's one way to do it,” you shrugged.

“Easiest way to do it.”

He reached in and took out the small glass vial. He put it inside the pocket of his suit jacket.

“What if it falls out?” you asked.

“It won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Alright, kid,” he sighed, “what do you want me to do with it? ‘Cause i’m sure as hell not lettin’ you carry it.”

You rolled your eyes and looked him over.

“How about you wrap it in your jacket, like cushioning?”

“Fine.”

He reluctantly shrugged off his jacket, keeping the vial in the pocket but folding the jacket into a ball. You hastily replaced everything in the cabinet, safe included, and you followed Logan as he opened the door to step out - only to be met with another guest, her fist raised to knock.

“Oh! Dear,” she chuckled, clearly a little startled. She looked to the both of you, a grin appearing on her face, “Young love, what a gift. Don’t worry, I didn't see a thing!”

You shot her a confused look, chuckling nervously before you happened to catch a glance of your reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Your hair was mussed and your blouse was untucked on one side from having to bend up and down. Logan had taken off his suit jacket and you realized what it was she was implying.

“Oh, oh - we weren’t -”

“It’s alright, honey,” she responded as you stepped out, “like I said - my lips are sealed.”

She shot you both a wink, went into the bathroom and shut the door.

“She thought we were fucking in there,” you mumbled, eyes wide in embarrassment.

“Is that so bad?”

You snapped your head towards him, a confused look on your face, “what?”

Logan shrugged, “we're supposed to be husband and wife, aren't we?”

You shook your head in disbelief and decided to ignore him, both of you joining the other guests back in the living room. Dinner was finally ready and everyone took their seats in the dining room. There were a couple of things on the table you couldn’t even pronounce.

“Is that…meat? A vegetable?” you leaned over to logan, whispering behind your hand and nodding towards one of the dishes.

“Hell if I know,” he muttered, “I don’t think I wanna find out.”

You both piled on the few things onto your plates, poking at it with your forks.

“Do you wanna get a pizza after this?” you whispered.

“Definitely,” he replied, pushing around an unrecognizable sludge with his utensil.

“So, how long did you two say you’ve been together?” You both looked up, only to be met with the hostess’ stare. You had never mentioned how long you’d been ‘together’. Her smile was polite but her stare was piercing, as if she knew something she was not supposed to.

“About three years,” you replied, looking to him for back up.

“We got married a couple months in,” he added, grinning at you. Again, he had that look - like he wasn’t just pretending to be in love with you. 

“We were in this restaurant - this little place we go to all the time,” he kept talking, “and I just told her I thought she was beautiful, that I wanted to be with her for the rest of my life.”

“Really? I have to say,” she began, sipping from her glass,” for a young couple who got together so quickly, you two don’t seem very affectionate towards each other.”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

You shot Logan a panicked look, but he appeared unbothered.

“Ah,” he clicked his tongue,” it’s this rule she’s got about PDA. I’d be all over her if I could.”

You hated the way your face became hot. You couldn’t tell if he was leaning into it to be convincing or flirting just to make you flustered. You heard a muffled snicker from somewhere across the table and your eyes shifted to the source - it was the woman from earlier, the one who’d thought you and Logan were getting busy in the bathroom. 

“Can I at least get a kiss, babe?” Logan cooed, a smug look on his face.

“What are you doing?” you whispered, eyes wide.

“Being a husband,” he replied in a hush voice. 

It all happened within seconds. His hands cupped your face, warm and soft, and he leaned in to plant a kiss right on your lips. It was gentle and you melted into his touch, kissing him back. When he pulled away, you were still stunned, your lips parted in surprise. 

Logan kissed you.

His lips tasted like the remnants of cigar smoke. His touch was nearly intoxicating, like you were drunk off just the way he held you. You inhaled sharply and finally turned your face out of his grip, eyes glued to the table cloth. You had almost forgotten where you were - feeling like the room was spinning - and you let out a nervous laugh.

The topic of discussion moved on quickly and it seemed like any suspicion the hostess had about either of you had dissipated. You and Logan decided to say your goodbyes immediately after dinner, making some excuse about having to wake up early the next morning. When you stepped out and he shut the door behind him, you couldn’t hold your tongue any longer.

“What the hell was that?” you spat, eyebrows knitted. 

“What was what?”

He was completely nonchalant as he continued to walk next to you towards his truck. 

“You kissed me.”

“I did.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He stopped with you at the passenger side of the truck, standing in front of the door so you couldn’t get in.

“What if I wanted to?”

You swallowed hard. It was dead silent outside, save for the chirping of crickets.

“What?”

“I wanted to,” he admitted, chewing his bottom lip, “I wanted to kiss you.”

You didn't know what to say. He hated you, didn’t he?

“Logan, I - “

“You can’t tell me you didn’t feel anything in there, pretending to be together.”

His voice almost sounded strained, like he was pleading.

“You don’t even like me, you hate me,” you deflected, but he shook his head.

“That’s not true. I never hated you. I figured you’d hate me after I acted like an asshole when we met, so I went with it. I don’t hate you. I think you’re funny, I think you’re pretty - I just never really knew how to tell you that.”

When you only stared in response, he moved aside and opened your door with a defeated sigh. You were still speechless but you hesitantly slid into the seat anyway, letting him close the door. When he got into the driver's side and started the ignition, you couldn’t stop looking over at him.

“So, you like me,” you finally said aloud.

He kept his eyes glued to the road when he responded in a low voice, “why do you think I bother you so much?”

“You pick on me because you like me? Like a little kid?” you couldn’t help the amusement in your voice as your confused expression turned to a smile.

You saw him bite back a smile that mirrored yours, shaking his head.

“I guess you could say that.”

“Well, you’re not too bad, you know, and I guess you’re kind of handsome.”

“Oh, really?” 

“Mhm, but don’t make me take it back.”

The rest of the short ride home was spent in comfortable silence, both of you seemingly trying to figure out where you’d go from there. When Logan parked his truck and got out, he came around your side to open your door. You hopped out and he shut the door for you, but grabbed your hand before you started to walk away.

“Hey, c’mere for a second.”

You let him pull you a little closer, intertwining both your hands. The evening air was chilly and you could see his breath in the air when he spoke.

“Can I kiss you, for real this time?”

You could feel your heart beating fast and you nodded eagerly. The second you did, his lips were already on yours. His hands let go of yours to settle in your hair, threading the strands between his fingers. His touch felt warm in comparison to the cold air and you leaned further into him with your hands gripping his jacket to pull him close. When he pulled away, he rested his hands on your waist and planted another kiss on your forehead. 

“Maybe we could, uh, try again,” he cleared his throat, running his hands up and down your sides, “be nice to each other this time.”

Truthfully, you couldn’t hate Logan, even though you tried. 

You couldn’t hate his perfect hair.

You couldn’t hate his sweet voice.

You couldn’t hate his kind smile.

You couldn’t hate the way he dressed.

You just couldn’t hate Logan Howlett. 

So, you kissed him again, smiling against his lips and letting him hold you as close as possible, almost lifting you off the ground with his arms around you.

“We should probably go inside, huh?” you mumbled when you leaned back, lightly scratching the mutton chops on the side of his face in an affectionate manner. Those were another thing you’d pretended to hate - probably because you were embarrassed to admit you thought he pulled them off well.

“As you wish, Mrs. Smith.”

He held his hand out for you to take and you did, eyeing the ring on your finger.

“You know,” you held up your hand to show him the jewelry, “I think i’ll keep this.”

He grinned, bringing your knuckles to his lips and leaving a chaste kiss, “I think i'll keep mine, too.”

You were both still holding hands when you went inside, blushing like two little kids. You were so engrossed in one another that you didn’t notice Jean and Ororo in the hallway ahead of you as he leaned down to kiss you again. Now that he knew he could actually do it, he couldn’t help himself.

“I’ll take it your night went well,” Ororo giggled, Jean doing the same. You jumped a little in surprise, covering your pink face in mild embarrassment. 

“What changed? I thought you hated each other,” the latter of the two asked.

“Eh, he’s not so bad,” you teased, shrugging your shoulders.

‘’Turns out, we make a pretty good fake husband and wife,” he explained, “I guess we got a little too carried away with it.”

As the two of you walked hand in hand further down the hall, Ororo elbowed Jean lightly, leaning over to whisper behind her hand.

“You owe me twenty bucks.”

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

A/N: If you've made it this far, thank you sm for reading!! I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep this as is or add smut so I'll leave it how it is and if enough people ask for it, I can make a part two <3 pls reblog and like if you enjoyed/want more and my inbox is always open :)

Edit: here is the link to part 2!

[backwzzds]

thinking about sending your man a video of you waiting on him while he was at work. he’s been gone since you woke up this morning and won’t be back till tomorrow. it was hard wnough trying to control yourself throughout the day, but now—now you couldn’t help it. you just couldn’t behave when you sent him the twenty second video just for his eyes, snickering the moment you heard the whoosh sound of your message deliver. you knew he was gonna be pissed, but you didn’t care. you needed him, and you needed him real bad. he doesn’t miss the way your long acrylic nails get stuffed in your cream as you fill yourself with them in attempt to replicate the existence of his own slender fingers. your soft moans infiltrate the video as you watch the nasty sight of your own cream drip onto the base below you.

he sends you back a reply in just under a minute. you were so lucky his brightness and volume was always kept on minimum in hopes of less distractions during his meetings. and thats exactly what you were being in the moment; a distraction keeping him from work. watching you spread your cleanly shaven cunt so far open he could see inside your gaping hole begging for him to come back home. he stared at your gummy walls in envy as the bulge in his work pants grew larger. your plush thighs are barely enough to keep your slutty legs open, and he grows angry enough to see you enjoying this based on your smirk in the video. he was gonna fuck that same malevolent look off your face, he promised himself. the way that his eyes falter upon the screen he’s squeezing so tight below in his hand and his jaw clenches doesn’t go unnoticed by his coworkers. he assures his cohort he’s alright, and that he must excuse himself. with a heavy trip to the bathroom, he wastes no time in typing you a two second reply. you were gonna get it now.

pookie <3: yeahhh, u jus wait till i get home.

EREN, CONNIE, ONY, draken, ICHIGO, renji, KENPACHI, urahara, CHOSO, TOJI, luffy, LAW, ZORO, CROCODILE + any of ur faves

[cactuscoolerr]

⋆｡˚. on camera! - itoshi rin

• nsfw

• notes: this is completely based off of a twitter porn vid lol (´∀`) for some reason i watched it and immediately thought of rin.. so enjoy!

• (here’s the video link btw! (≧∀≦)) (pls watch)

rin doesn’t send nudes. he thinks it’s stupid, a waste of time, and a huge risk to his image in case it gets leaked somehow.

nothing could’ve gotten him to send, until you asked in that sweet voice of yours with those pretty eyes one night he was real tired after a long practice. he could hardly resist you after being away from you for nearly a month now. he was growing sick of only being able to see and talk to you through a stupid facetime call.

“i miss you so much, rin rin.. miss your cock and the way you fill me up..” your gentle pout was just enough to make rin cave. his heavy sigh sounded through your phone, making your heartbeat quicken.

rin watched you on his screen, squinting slightly before nodding. “fine. get some sleep and it’ll be sent to you by morning” he spoke, looking around his room to figure out how he’d even take nudes.

you giggled softly and blew a kiss at your screen. “i love you, rin rin” the adorable smile you held on your face melted rins heart. “get some sleep too, okay? i love you so much and don’t want you getting sick”

“fine. you too”

“okay..” you smiled and reached for your phone, angling it slightly upwards, giving rin a view of your tits held by the flimsy white tank top you wore to sleep. “i love you. talk in the morning?”

rin nodded, grabbing his phone with a sigh. “uh huh. love you, hun”

you sent a kiss towards your phone before hanging up and rin set his phone down, still trying to figure out the whole sending nudes thing. he tried remembering when you’d send him nudes. pictures of your gorgeous tits in your bra or a mirror selfie while you were dressed in the pretty lingerie rin bought you.

or even your ruined cunt and fucked out face after you fucked yourself on your favorite pretty pink dildo in front of the mirror in yours and rins shared bedroom.

rin nearly scowled at the thought. it almost seemed effortless, and here he was losing his mind over it.

he stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom of his hotel room, glaring at himself for even agreeing to something so stupid. “cant believe i’m even doing this..” rin scowled, pushing his sweats down a little lower than he normally had them to show off just above where his semi hard cock began twitching to life.

phone in hand, rin contemplated taking the picture, his other hand awkwardly hanging at his side. he looked utterly stupid.

with a tired groan, rin dropped his phone on the countertop and stared at himself longer, pulling his sweats back up and going to lay down on his bed, giving up and ready to type out his apology to you.

though, instead of an apology, you woke up -very excitedly - to find a video that rin had sent you. before starting the video, you were met with the image of a body that you knew all too well. the room was dark, a faint light shining on his abs that showcased perfectly the water droplets, likely from his shower.

that alone was mouthwatering as you studied it more, seeing how it cut off right before his long cock was in view for you to see. you almost wanted to call him just to curse at him, though you figured watching the video first might be worth it.

immediately, you could tell that he was close to cumming. with the way his hand frantically moved up and down out of screen, it was obvious that he was growing desperate.

you watched his other hand glide across his body, something you knew made him insanely needy. his small gasps and groans infiltrated your ears, making your breathing grow heavy and your cunt clench around nothing.

the video continued and you pressed your thighs together, practically feeling his desperation to cum while your cunt grew wetter by the second. and you almost lost it when he gasped your name, moaning through soft breaths as his cum coated his delicious abs. you almost wished you were there to lick his cum off his skin, cleaning him off before kissing him to make him taste himself and how perfect he is.

“fuck..” you breathed out, restarting the video and slowly creeping your hand into your panties while propping up your phone to watch your boyfriend cum over and over again just for your pleasure.

[skyahri]

Robes |Zuko X Reader| HC

Summary: Your relationship with Zuko and how your friends found out.

Warnings: Implied intamacy???? Bed sharing. Kissing.

- - - - -

You were well acquainted with the Gaang. You'd served as a sort of double agent for them during the war once Zuko had teamed up with them. He knew they'd need some inside information, so he contacted you, knowing full well your ideals did not align with the fire nation.

You're the daughter of the prestigious Admiral Zhou, a ruthless military head who wouldn't hesitate to turn you in if he found out you were leaking information to the enemy.

It was easy to keep them updated. Your father had an ego the size of the moon, always going on and on about his achievements and new findings and whatnot. He was never home for long, leaving you in your mother's care and making it easy to sneak away. You mostly sent messenger Hawks, but once they'd infiltrated the fire nation you met in person.

You mostly met with Zuko, but occasionally, Sokka or Aang would take his place. You didn't mind. It was nice seeing more of the people you were risking your life for.

After the war, once Zuko took over as Fire Lord, he invited you to be a part of his cabinet. You weren't sure why, seeing as how the other members have some sort of military or consulting experience, and you're just a teenager who sent letters.

Strategy meetings were weekly, so you saw Zuko more often than any of the others. They visited when they could, but with the long list of air temple repairs, it was difficult to make time.

Not that you minded. You loved spending time with him, with or without the rest of the entourage.

Zuko was always accommodating to you, even going as far as to offer you a room in the palace 'if you ever need it.' He'd had the room fully furnished and closet stocked with spare outfits.

Occasionally, if meetings ran long, you'd stay in said room. It was a luxury the other members weren't granted, and honestly, it made you feel special.

When all the immediate post-war issues finally calmed down and Zuko had more free time, he always asked you to stick around or come keep him company.

He's the fire lord. He can't easily leave the palace, especially to do regular teenager things like laze around the shops or sneak into theaters, so you were limited to what the palace could offer.

You'd taken to gardening with him, something Zuko found very alluring. You played board games, baked pastries, and anything else you two could come up with.

Before long, you found yourself spending most of your time with him on the property. Occasional sleepovers quickly become several times a week. It wasn't long before you basically lived there, so you bit the bullet and brought the rest of your stuff to the palace.

Within a few months, you shared a kiss near the pond in the garden. Things slowly escalated over the next year or so. That first nervous kiss became the norm. You shared dinners and late night talks, often going so far into the night you'd just crash in his bed.

Before long, your room became obsolete. Your bed was hardly ever touched, your clothes were in his closet, items in his drawers, and toiletries in his restroom.

You'd heard the staff gossip from time to time, which you didn't necessarily mind, but it definitely made you blush. It felt like getting caught despite doing nothing wrong.

For a while, Katara would tease you mercilessly. She didn't know anything, or at least didn't lead you to believe she did. She just liked the idea of everyone finding someone, and you were the only girl Zuko ever talked to.

You went out of your way to cover up the obvious aspects of your relationship when your friends were around. You agreed early on to keep things under wraps, not wanting to harm the groups dynamic if things didn't work out.

But that was almost a year and half ago, and now it felt wrong to say anything. Like you had betrayed their trust somehow. You felt bad for lying to your friends about what was going on, but honestly, neither of you could bring yourself to admit the two of you had been dishonest for so long.

You woke up and patted the bed beside you. It was still warm, but Zuko wasn't there. You got up and picked up a robe off the floor to cover your nightwear. It was unlike him to leave without even waking you, so you'd go see what he was up to.

You exited his quarters and immediately saw the entire Gaang. They just stared at you in shock, having a hard time piecing things together.

"Did you just come out of Zuko's room?" Sokka asked.

"You saw me, didn't you?"

"Are those his clothes?" Katara asked.

You glanced down. They were, in fact, his clothes. You just stared at her, refusing to answer. Of course, Katara would notice they were his specifically and not just standard robes.

Zuko dragged his hand down his face. Of course, this is how they'd find out. Not after a long, thought-out conversation over a planned dinner or outing. They had to see you walk out of his room compromised after an impromptu visit.

They hastled you two for the rest of the day, asking horrifically personal questions and guilt tripping you into answering them. They bothered you for information about your intimate lives and dating preferences.

Late into the night, when the fire and excitement died down, Katara and Toph cornered you about the secrecy. You were huddled up in your room for a girls only sleepover when they decided to attack, giving you no choice but to be completely honest.

"We kept it quiet in case things didn't work out. Then some time passed... and we started feeling guilty about hiding it, and we just never found the right time."

"There didn't have to be a right time. Were your friends, not your subjects."

"I know. There's just a lot of pressure when you're with a friend who also happens to be the Fire Lord."

Luckily, you have amazing friends who understand people make mistakes. They squashed your anxiety about the whole thing, making sure you knew they weren't mad or disappointed.

But that absolutely did not stop them from holding over your heads for the unforeseeable future.

[etherealyoungk]

—⟡ 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

[vampirebloodie]

Caught | Homelander x reader

Summary: Butcher send you to steal secret documents in Homelander's penthouse, but Firecracker and him seem to be smarter than you.

Warnings: smut 18+, dubcon/non con, homelander being an asshole, forced pregnancy (?)

You just had to be as quick and discreet as possible, infiltrating Vought had even been a not so complicated task, but stealing documents from Homelander's penthouse... Well, it was something very risky and that could go extremely wrong.

Butcher had been clear in what he wanted, Homelander had congresswoman Victoria Neuman's documents, very important documents about her that could be used as enough evidence to destroy her career and still take a little bit of Vought with her.

"Where is it? Where is it?"

You said in agony going through all the drawers possible, a conference was taking place at Vought for the presentation of the new members of the Seven, Firecracker and Sister Sage. Anyway, you didn't have time, you had to get those documents and get out of there as soon as possible, the van with Butcher, French, M.M and Kimiko would arrive to pick you up and if they missed you and entered the building it would turn into a bloodbath.

A throat clearing was heard behind you and your blood ran cold, you took your hands out of the drawer and turned slowly seeing Homelander and Firecracker staring at you.

"Looking for something?"

Homelander asks sarcastically and Firecracker raises the documents that were in her hand, she had the documents with her all the time, they knew that one of the boys would go after it.

"I must say, thank you Firecracker, without you I wouldn't have known there was a little mouse in my penthouse."

"Everything for you, really everything..."

She says in a seductive voice and you hold the disgusted face.

"I bet the little mouse thought there was no hidden camera in the vent, right?"

Firecracker mocks and you roll your eyes. Stupid annoying bitch.

"Where is the rest?"

Homelander asks.

"Who? Nobody is here.

You answer and he smiles, Firecracker laughs softly.

"Oh? So they sent you here and didn't even put someone to come along in case something went wrong? It shows that they really care about you."

"Or no!! Because they don't care about you!!!"

He and Firecracker scoff, as you continue to stare at them expressionlessly, and Firecracker laughs absurdly.

"Ok, enough enough."

Homelander says and she stops immediately, like an obedient puppy. Firecracker was one of the most self-interested and needy women you had ever seen.

"Leave us alone, i want to talk to her."

"What? But..."

"Leave. Now."

He demands and the redhead blink a few times before leaving the penthouse in silence.

"So, Butcher sent you here?"

"Something like that."

"I should burn your brains out right now just for your audacity to break into MY house."

He said gritting his teeth, annoyed.

"And what's stopping you?"

You asked crossing your arms challenging him, even though you knew that inside you were afraid, everyone was afraid of Homelander and rightly so, especially the laser beams.

"You look usable... for me."

He responds looking you up and down, with an interested look, you arch your eyebrow, not liking that look of his at all.

"Excuse me?"

"Take off your clothes."

You widen your eyes and immediately deny that horrendous request.

"No way! I'm not going to do that!"

"I said. Take. Off. Your. Clothes."

He repeats. In a desperate act you try to run, but the laser in his eyes hits the ground next to you, in a clear silent threat.

"Don't even try."

His eyes sparkle showing the red laser beams in an act of intimidation. There was no point in running, the room had plenty of space and the laser would easily catch you. Your hands shake and you swallow hard knowing you have no option, your hands go to your clothes and you remove them, leaving only your bra and panties, your arms hug your own body.

"Good body. Would be perfect to carry a baby."

He says malicious and you freeze, reminding you that he could have children and that Ryan was proof of that. He walks in your direction.

"You're too beautiful, I can't kill you so quickly"

He compliments you by touching your hair, in an almost affectionate act if it didn't come from him. His fingers play with the strap of your bra.

"I want to taste it."

"W-what?"

"Milk."

"What do you mean? I don't..."

"I like the size and I want to suck it so bad"

He whispers and your cheeks turn red, your body temperature getting warmer by every second. His eyes shine again and your hand goes to the fro of your bra, opening it and revealing your breasts, Homelander's blue eyes gain an intense glow, almost like a child seeing his favorite candy. He stared at your breasts in wonder.

"Sit"

He points to the couch and you sit watching him, he walks up to you and sits on your side, then he practically throws himself on your legs, lying with his back on your thighs.

"Breastfeed me"

You blink a few times at that request, but you decide to fulfill it so as not to risk it becoming a barbecue, you lean forward and raise his head a little. Your breath stops feeling his tongue on the nipple of your breast, licking and sucking with desire. Your other hand squeezes the sofa. While he use his tongue, his hand caress your waist.

You shouldn't like that.

You should despise him.

You should hate him.

You bit your lips to avoid letting out a moan because it was so good.

"Enough."

He takes his mouth off and says, then in a surprise act he gets up and pushes you against the couch, climbing on top of you.

"Get off me!"

You protest but he holds you tighter, immobilizing you.

"I know you like that."

He smiles, showing his perfectly white teeth, before attacking your lips hard, kissing you with a little violence, his tongue moved hard and you couldn't even move, just hold on. The kiss was aggressive and needy, in a clear feeling of possession. You just let out little murmurs. He stops kissing you and his lips go down to your neck, you breathe heavily, feeling a little saliva run down the corner of your mouth, his hands held your arms and his weight between your legs made you keep them open, you could clearly feel something rubbing down there.

He stops kissing your neck and pulls away for a few seconds and his hand goes to the zipper of the pants of his supe uniform, opening it, your eyes widen seeing the size of that. Perhaps it was one of the consequences of compound v as well. He approaches again and you close his legs automatically, he opens them rudely in a way that almost hurts.

"Keep it fucking open."

He says in a rude tone, ppulling your panties to the side, he spits against the red glove and rubs it on your pussy, you turn your face to the side not wanting to see that. Your chin is pulled tightly.

"Look. At. Me!"

He says it and before you could say anything he burrows inside you, surprising you, you open your mouth and let out a moan divided between pain and pleasure, damn, that was non-humanly big. He stops for a few seconds, which wasn't enough, until he starts to move inside you, back and forth hard, his balls hit your skin, he looked like a ferocious animal. His pelvis slammed against yours aggressively as he held your legs up, leaving you as open as possible, just for him.

You shouldn't like that.

You should despise him.

You should hate him.

But damn, that was so fucking good.

You were in a mess of moans as your breasts swayed, his blue eyes penetrated your soul.

"I'm going to make you fucking pregnant, I'm going to put a baby in you"

He groans going harder in his moviments inside you.

"What? No!"

"Oh yes, I'm going! Who knows, maybe you'll stop trespassing on other people's property, hm?"

He slaps your breasts, making you moan softly in pain. Getting pregnant with Homelander seemed like the worst idea in the world, but it was either that or getting burned. His movements increase more and more, grabbing your waist tightly, his thumb rubs your clit hard making your head throw back, delirious with pleasure, his hands hold you in place stronger by your waist, which would surely leave purple marks later, with a loud whimper you cum on his dick, he takes it as an encouragement to dig deeper inside you, if it was possible, you could feel everything inside of you, buried, and then with a loud, almost animalistic grunt, he cums inside you, shaking. He comes out of you, watching the cum drip from inside you, you were panting and your hair stuck to your forehead.

"You going to look so pretty with your breasts full of milk and carrying my baby."

He says going up the zipper of his pants again.

"Put your clothes and get off. You have 10 minutes before I go back and burn your brain."

He threatens and leaves the penthouse, leaving you alone, your clock beeps, indicating that the van with The Boys had arrived. You sigh putting your clothes again and ready to go to a pharmacy to buy a morning-after pill

Or a pregnancy test.

[luminiamore]

CORPORATE ESPIONAGE.

synopsis: in a world where vampires run powerful corporations, satoru gojo is a high-ranking ceo and a highly respected vampire. you, working for his rival corporation, are sent to infiltrate satoru's company and steal valuable secrets. it didn’t take long for him for to catch you, and he’s not gonna let you go so easily.

warnings: vampire satoru x black reader, enemies to lovers kinda? vampires use compulsion, wall sex, office sex, eater toru

——-

“You want me to what?”

You manage to break the demeaning silence in your boss’s dimly lit office with your sharp voice. Your breath was erratic, almost enraged by the words that had just come out of his mouth. The fucking audacity to even ask this of you.

He groans, shaking his head as he buries his hands in them, “Spy on Kisetsu no Bi.”

Oh. So, you weren’t hearing things. He really expects you to do this- spy on the rival company. Isn’t that a crime somewhere? This is illegal, right? I mean, what kind of boss even asks this of their highest-paid employee? No. No way.

“If this wasn’t important, I wouldn’t have asked- especially because I know how much effort you put in-”

You scoff, “So, this is the thanks I get? A crazy request to do something illegal? I’m not a fucking-”

“This isn’t a request, ( ♥︎ ). It’s either you do it, or you’re out of a job; that’s final.” His voice gets lower in pitch, and you don’t even flinch when he slams his hands on the table, baring his fangs at you in a chilling hiss.

You stay in your spot by the door and allow the silence to simmer. He should know better than to raise his voice at you, even if he were your boss. His heavy breathing was all that could be heard. When he saw the furious expression on your face, he quickly sat back in his chair. Realizing this was not the right approach, he attempted to find another angle.

He clears his throat, “My bad, that was rude. I deeply respect you ( ♥︎ ), and you’re among the few people I trust. That’s why I’m asking for your help with this, for this company.”

You still don’t say a word, but at least a thousand thoughts are circling in your pretty head. Even so, you move slowly towards the chair in front of his table and sit down, crossing one of your brown legs over the other. You adjust your white blouse, covering the accidental peak of your black bra. A slight shift of your head lets him know that you are listening.

He grumbles, eyes trying to stay focused on your face and not your plump body, “You know our rival company is owned by a man named Satoru Gojo. We have always been second to that arrogant bastard, but if we—”

“By which you mean me.”

You watch Toji roll his eyes, “If you could find something, anything that could ruin him, it’ll finally put us on top.”

It sounds reasonable- to a large extent, but could you even get away with this? What if you get caught? What if the media covers this? Could it ruin you?. It’ll plummet this company to the ground. Though Toji may be second right now, he’s still highly respected, even overseas. Almost on the level Satoru is.

“Why don’t you hire a professional? Someone who actually knows how to do this might work better in your favor.” You mutter out.

At this point, you’ll create any excuse to get out of this.

“Everyone knows who I am, you can’t trust anyone to not spread it to the media- no matter how much you pay them.”

“Won’t he know who I am? I mean, I’ve worked here for like 4 years.”

A tired smile graces his face, “You work from home, sweetheart. You only come in once every month, 3 weeks if I’m lucky.”

“What if I get caught? Respectfully, this is insane, Mr. Fushiguro.” Your face twists into an exasperated expression. You didn’t sign up to be no damn spy.

A loud groan breaks you out of your thoughts, “Christ, I’ll triple your pay. Whether you get the job done or fail, you’ll be compensated for it.” There it is. Suddenly, doing this job didn’t sound too horrible. You try to fight the smile on glossed lips, but your boss can see right through you.

“Yeah? I should’ve started with that.” He chuckles.

This time, you roll your eyes, “Whatever. Quadruple it for raising your grown man voice at me.”

“Sure. You’re obviously going under a different name. I have your documents right here, and they contain everything you’ll need.” You watch him pull out a thick folder from under his desk.

When he hands it to you, you’re more than surprised at how much he put into this. There’s a fat document that explains your entire new persona. …Kami Smith? Really? There’s a fake Id, he even went got you a fucking passport. How long did he plan to drag this out? “Maybe change your hair a little bit, you never know if someone might recognize you anyway.”

“I change my hair every week, Mr. Fushiguro. How am I even gonna get a job there?”

He hums, pretending to ponder over your question, “You’re a pretty girl. Don’t get pissed, but apart from how smart you are, it’s the reason you got a job here.”

You narrow your eyes, and he winces, noticing immediately, “I said not to get pissed.”

“Is that all, boss?” You rise from your seat, ignoring his words. With another roll of your eyes, the yellow folder is clutched tightly in your left hand.

Though you want to pretend you’re thinking this over, you know you have no choice but to go through with this. At least you’ll be getting paid, and you don’t have much of a social life to worry about being on the media anyway. You just really hope you don’t go to court over this.

“That’s all, ( ♥︎ ). Be careful, yeah?” Toji jerks his head over to you, though subtle, genuine concern covering his features. It makes you smile, feel giddy even. Sue you for thinking your boss is hot.

You give him a pretty smile and a nod. Toji listens as your kitten heels clack on his tile floors, his eyes never once leaving your frame in that tight pencil skirt. He hates to see you go, but he loves to watch you leave.

He snaps his head up when your voice calls out once more, “Have a good night, Mr. Fushiguro.”

And with the soft click of his door, he’s alone in his office again. He huffs out a breath, spewing curses under his breath, when he accidentally nicks his lower lip on his sharp fang. “Damn.”

——

It turns out your boss was right. You are a pretty girl. Therefore, it didn’t take long for you to get an interview at his rival company, 2 days to be exact. You were rather impressionable, too, so much so that Satoru wanted to interview you himself.

Nervous was an understatement. Could you really pull this off? You never had a liking for Satoru. He was arrogant, self-centered, and a womanizer if the headlines weren’t so obsessed with him. You never met him, but you’ve seen enough online interviews for you to absolutely hate his personality.

His best friend and partner company is more tolerable, though. Even though he looks aloof and nonchalant, you could tell he’s just as arrogant - maybe even more than his white-haired companion. You pretended not to notice his piercing gaze the entire time you walked past him to the elevator, the one leading straight to the top of the skyscraper.

Your outfit was nothing short of professional— a tight dark grey skirt encompassing your wide hips and your burgundy Hermes Porosus bag hanging on the shoulder of your cream silk blouse. Your rouge heels clack on the tile floor with each step you take to the large white office, which the receptionist told you was at the end of the hall.

You lift your soft hands into a fist, and right before you’re about to knock, the door swings open. And lo and behold, there he is.

Satoru Gojo, in all his glory.

The top two buttons of his dress shirt are loose, and you have to fight for your eyes not to waver down to sneak a glance at his porcelain chest. He was attractive, you’re not stupid enough to try and deny that. His eyes had a pretty crystalline glow. They were penetrating- you felt like he knew everything about you with just one look. His hair was frosty, and it looked so... soft.

It was quick, a heated vision of your fingers running through them, tugging and—

“Enjoying the view, angel?”

You blink quickly, snapping your eyes away from his face when you cause a smirking dancing across his lips. Great, he caught you staring. “No. I’m here for our interview, for the job?”

His grin widens, and with a snicker, you hear, “You sure? Could’ve sworn you were drooling a bit there.”

“I was not.” You snap.

Satoru hums, obviously unconvinced, “You’re Kami, hm?”

Your loose curls shake as you nod. It was impossible not to notice- or overanalyze- the way he spoke. Almost like he was doubtful or suspicious of you even. Maybe you’re just overthinking it. There’s no way he already suspects you. Part of you thinks you’re also nodding to convince yourself of your inner turmoil.

He opens the door a little to let you in. An electric surge flows through your body when your arms graze his shoulder because he simply won’t budge until you completely come inside. He leads you to a soft couch with a swift grasp of your hand. As his fingers rub back and forth on your muscles, you can’t help but wonder if he does this to every new potential hire.

The room suddenly feels hot, and you find yourself slightly grateful when he breaks the silence as he’s rounding his own chair, “Where ya from, angel?”

You ignore the tingling in your stomach at the nickname “New York.”

Your answer is immediate. You and your best friend spent an entire day going over the document until you memorized everything. You covered all grounds. You're sure you can answer any question he throws at you about your background.

Another low hum as you watch him click away on his computer, “So, why are you looking for a job in Tokyo?”

“I decided to take my business degree oversees, I needed a new change of scenery.”

If you were pressed on the actual reason for your visit to Japan years ago, you would not be capable of giving an answer. Your memory has a gap between before and after you came. All you really remember is waking up in a Japanese penthouse with at least a million yen in your bank account.

Satoru abruptly stops his typing and leans back in his chair, his attention now and utterly focused on you. “You know, getting an interview here is not easy.”

Internally, you can’t help but roll your eyes. “Yes, Mr. Gojo. Which is why I’m very grateful for this opportunity.”

The silence following your sentence is so loud you could hear a pin drop. It makes you shift your position on the couch, and Satoru doesn’t grant you the mercy of not noticing. His low eyes actually don’t leave your frame once. They move from your thighs to your lips, to the fat of your supple breasts, and finally to your neck. It goes straight to your core, and you can’t stand it.

You clear your throat, “I can explain my-”

“You’re hired.”

You blink, once. Twice.

“I-uh- what?” A sputter in your words makes him stifle a chuckle at your perplexed state. You’re too cute.

With a shrug of his shoulders, he repeats, “The position you wanted? It’s yours, angel.”

There’s that pet name again. “Just like that? You haven’t even asked me five questions.”

Was it that simple? His tone and quickness make you question whether there are cameras in this place. Too many red flags go off in your head, but you don’t seem to notice that brewing gut feeling in your stomach.

Satoru nodded, his smile almost blinding with how wide it was, “Don’t need to. You’re gonna be working in the office next to mine.”

This is convenient. It’s way too convenient.

“Next to yours?” You whisper as if trying to make sense of this, and the tall man in front of you finds heavy amusement in your reactions.

“Next to mine, angel. That won’t be a problem, yes?”

He’s toying with you. He has to be. A fake smile graces your face, “Of course not. When do I start, Mr. Gojo?”

Satoru had no idea how much he had missed you until he saw you again. Changing your hair, growing into your body, or getting a few more piercings were irrelevant to him. He would always recognize you. How is it that you’re even more beautiful? Even more delectable. He hates himself for leaving you and protecting you in the worst way possible. You don’t even remember him— how could you? He compelled you to forget him.

He doesn’t know where you’ve been, who you’ve been seeing, or what you’ve been doing. But he saw you, overseeing the admissions director when they pulled up your application. He couldn’t help but think, is this fate?

“Today. Let me give you a tour, angel.” Satoru isn’t letting you go a second time. He lost you once, and he’d be a fool to do it again after this opportunity presented itself to him. How I missed you, my love.

——

Two weeks. That’s how long it took you to actually start your task in the first place. That’s because the owner of this company won’t leave you alone for a damn minute. Everywhere you go, he’s right behind you. Every time you try and get a minute to yourself, he’s there— pestering you.

The workplace was crowded, but one of the perks of being next to Satoru’s office was being away from the crowd. You tried observing when he leaves for lunch, but whenever he does, he demands that you take your lunch with him. He’s a busy man; you anticipate that he takes as many meetings as Toji does in a day, maybe even more. But for each one, you were requested to accompany him.

At this point, you’re starting to think he’s obsessed with you.

Today, you have a chance. Satoru hasn’t been in the office since this morning, and amid the daily gossip, you caught word that he won’t be in the office all day. This is the opportunity you’ve been waiting for; you just have to wait until everyone leaves by five.

4:55 P.M.

Your door creaks slightly after two soft knocks, “Hey, Kami! I’m leaving for tonight. Since you’re the only person in the office, you mind locking up?”

Shoko was always a kind person. She was one of the few people you spoke to every day when Satoru wasn’t corning you. You stop typing and glance at the gorgeous girl with a grin, “Not at all, you can just leave the keys on the door. Night, Shoko!”

The final ding of the elevator is what you wait for to get up from your seat. Even though you’re the only person here, you still try to make your movements as quiet as possible. You don’t question why Satoru doesn’t have a security code or why it’s open at all, but you are thankful for it.

His office is more.. organized than the last time you were in here. There are storage cabinets stacked on both the wall and his desk, as well as a bookshelf. You’re fast at getting to work. Starting near his wall, you open the first cabinet and shuffle through each folder. Blood supply contracts... NDAs.. employee files.. property deeds.

Nothing of importance is there, so your heels lightly clack on the way to his wooden desk. When you open it, the first thing you notice is a folder called The Red Files. Here it is, exactly what you were searching for. This file is stuffed with everything that could put him out of business permanently— money laundering, the files of all the individuals who were bribed and corrupted by this company, and even embezzlement.

You can hear a buzzing going off on your phone, and you’re confused when you read that it’s Toji calling you. He could have been phoning to check on your progress, but regardless, you decline and continue reading. The more you scan, the more you find illegal activities on top of illegal activities.

What the fuck kind of company is this—

“Find anything interesting in there, angel?”

You gasp, shoving the papers into his desk shelf instinctively as you stand up from your position on the floor. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You’re so fucked.

You try to stammer out a response, but it’s honestly embarrassing how you’re tripping over your words, “M-Mr. Gojo? I— what?”

His slim body rests on his open door, his gaze unwavering at your slightly quivering frame. He’s wearing a white dress shirt again, but when you look a little closer, you notice that more buttons are popped open. His skin is so smooth, it’s easy to tell where his abs start. Why did he have to be so fine?

He doesn’t seem upset if you’re going by the smile on his smooth face. He seems amused, rather. His voice is slow when he speaks to you, taunting sensual even, “Well? Did you, ( ♥︎ )?”

Your eyes widen slightly, and you’re certain that your breath has been taken away. Well, now you’re double fucked. You didn’t hear him, how did he even get here? Then you roll your eyes again at your ignorance. Vampire. Right.

“..I don’t know who that is, Mr. Gojo. My name is Kami.” Your voice is tense, awkward because… what could you even say? You’ll deny this as much as you can before you inevitably give in.

Satoru rolls his eyes, “Wrong. Your name is ( ♥︎ ) ( ♥︎ ), and you work for that idiot, Fushiguro.”

Now you’re sputtering as you respond, “That’s not-”

“You woke up in Japan a few years ago, too, didn’t you? No clue how it happened, but you had a pretty hefty amount in that bank account of yours.”

Silence. You believe you’re too stunned to speak. How does he know that? He could see the expression on your face, and it made him laugh at your expense. Satoru began walking towards you, and with every step he took forward, you took a step backward. Right up until your back hit the wall, and you had nowhere to go.

His proximity resulted in the scent of his cologne hitting your nose. He appeared more.. bigger in front of you, and you’re almost facing his almost bare chest. Those piercing eyes stare down at you intensely, with so much passion. You’re internally cursing yourself for how you seem to only have these reactions when he’s near you.

You breathe, “I- I have to leave.”

He ignores you and instead presses closer to you. As he leans down, his hair brushes against your cheek, and you hear him breathe deeply. The hotness of his breath when he breathes out is a pleasant sensation for you.

He has to remind himself that you don’t remember him, but he sounds so broken when he says, “You spying on me? Really, angel?”

Your thoughts are confusing, and with how many of them there are, it’s making your head hurt. Why is he saying it like that? Like he knows you? Like you really hurt him. This is your first time seeing this man, but he’s acting like he’s in love with you.

“Mr. Gojo-”

His fang grazes your neck, descending right down to your collarbone, “Satoru. Call me Satoru, angel.”

You’re gasping when his fingers grip your top, pulling and popping one button off. Why aren’t you stopping him? Why are you letting this happen? Your breath is shaky when you speak, “Will I get in trouble for this?”

“In trouble? You’re asking if I’ll take this to the media? Course not, Angel.”

Satoru quickly savored your blood flowing onto his tongue after a small peck to your throat and another one on your chest. You taste so fucking sweet, just like you did the first time.

He continues, “But I won’t let you off so easy. Let’s teach you a lesson, hm?”

Your back is arching in an uncomfortable position on your boss’s desk while your chest heaves from the sheer pleasure running through your entire body. On his knees, the white-haired man holds your thighs in a tight grip while his tongue slides up and down your gushing mound. You’re not sure what lesson you thought Satoru had in mind for you, but it definitely wasn’t this.

The same hair you’ve been fantasizing about running your fingers through is shaking from in between your trembling legs. There aren’t any coherent thoughts in your brain besides ‘Satoru’ or ‘more.’ You can’t hold back your sounds even if you try, and Satoru finds that he wants to hear more of your tunes.

He slurps, his long tongue easily slipping inside you and devouring everything you have to offer. “God, you still taste so good.”

You’re babbling when you respond, you don’t even register his words, “Oh! Yesss- Right there, Toru.”

You’re bucking your hips into his awaiting mouth, it’s so messy and wet. Each time you spasm and try to run away from his onslaught, it just makes him go harder- go faster. His tongue slipped out of you, but the pressure never went away because he quickly slid in two long, slender fingers and began pumping.

You choked, tears brimming in your eyes as he easily nudged your g-spot, “Always so messy, f’me.”

Always? A pitiful sob is the response you give to a sharp pressure on the side of your inner thigh, just where your fat lips meet. You tighten your grip on him when his tongue wraps around your twitching clit. As you’re huffing, tears begin to fall, and burning pressure builds in your core.

The way your hips are grinding against his hand and your arousal is making obscene noises in the quiet of the office are uncontrollable. He curls them, arching them at an angle to penetrate the deepest parts of you. And damn him for knowing how to eat it like this.

There’s a pulsing shock flowing through you with every squelching pump. Your body was filled with euphoria, and Satoru’s eyes were tightly closed, immersing himself in your essence- it was giving you sensory overload. The only thing keeping you grounded in reality at this moment is your harsh grip on his hair.

Satoru needed only three more strokes of his fingers to have your sweet cream covering him. You’re even messier when you cum, even louder, too- he always loved that about you.

“Such a pretty girl. You want more, angel? Want Toru to give you more?” He abruptly withdraws and slaps your dripping lips violently, causing you to scream and cry in his grasp. Instead of giving you an answer, Satoru presses his lips on yours in a furious manner, sucking up the air you breathe and eating every sigh that passes through your lips.

Your soft ass makes it easy for the desperate man to lift you up from the wooden desk with both hands. Your skirt is long gone, and your blouse is completely torn apart when you are pressed tightly against the wall.

Satoru grips your chin and puts your attention on him, “Look at me, angel.”

And with hazy eyes, you do. You experience a plethora of memories as your mind spins. Memories of you and Satoru on a silk bed, on a private plane. Memories of him lying on you and memories of his cock filling you up over and over again start coming back to haunt you when he utters the word ‘Remember.’

You blink rapidly, your mouth opening into a wanton moan when you feel Satoru’s thick tip slide past your entrance. Jesus, huge doesn’t even begin to describe him. Your hands are immediately pressing against his stomach, trying to push him back because it was entirely too much. He grips them both with one hand and effortlessly presses them above your head.

You’re almost distracted by the fact that you’re face-to-face with Satoru. Your Satoru. Your words are a mix of a dragged-out moan and a curious tone, “Toru?”

He is quick when he answers you, almost reassuring you that he’s here. With you, “Yeah, angel. S’me.”

His next words come out in a pained groan, “Come on, take some more f’me. You remember how to, right?”

You’re nodding before he can even finish his sentence, your trembling arms holding on for dear life around his neck as he presses his face into your chest. He’s pushing deeper inside you, and you find it hard to remember how to breathe when he slaps his hips against yours in one go. You’re wailing, breath heaving when you feel your arousal dripping down your thighs.

You’re so full, filled to the brim with 8 inches of fat dick. Satoru was a fucking problem; he doesn’t wait for you to tell him to move— pulls his cock at a slow, agonizing pace before he slaps against you once more. Your pretty pussy is on fire, and you swear you can feel him in your throat.

Satoru is stabbing your womb with each thrust, and he is so proud of you when you start pushing your pussy out. Yeah, you remember how to take him.

He’s panting against your mouth when you tremble out, “Missed you- missed you s’much, Toru.”

He groans, pressing his lips against you for another quick, sloppy kiss, “Oh, I missed you so much more, angel.”

The man above you was quick and precise with his movements. He was punching that spongy spot in you so good if you looked down, you’d be sure to see the creamy paste that started forming at the base of his cock. He just wouldn’t stop talking, “You take it so well, fuck. I’m in your stomach, baby. You feel me?”

His unoccupied hand moves down to your tummy, right where he was poking with every harsh thrust he fed you, “Feel me right there?”

Your eyes roll in the back of your head when Satoru kisses the ankle dangling by his head, and you try to gargle out an answer, “I-I feel you! So deep- so good.”

There was an itch inside you that only Satoru could ever scratch. He always treated your pussy so well, and you’re so far gone on the feel of him every time he slammed into you. Your boobs bounce with every forceful stroke, and when Satoru looks down at you, the only thoughts running through his brain are how good you look.

He can tell you’re close. Your screams are getting breathy, and your body is shaking more frantically under him. There’s no better feeling than this, he finds. No better feeling than your perfect cunt wrapped tightly around him as he fucks all coherence out of you. You didn’t look away from his eyes, from his face— he just looked so pretty when he was flushed and rutting into you like his life depended on it.

He breathes, his fangs poking right near your throat, “Looks like you’re gonna make a mess, angel. Gonna squirt all over me?”

“Y-Yess. Yes. M’gonna cum so-”

A groan in your ear makes you clench down harder on him, “Tell me you love it. Tell me you love how good I make you feel.”

You feel unapologetic when you desperately scream out, “Love it! L-Love the way you fuck me, I love you!”

“I love you, angel. Be a good girl and make a mess for Toru, yeah?”

You are being fucked out of your own soul as he goes even deeper than you imagined. When he bites harshly into your neck, your legs shake, and you can only gush all over him. He holds you like you weigh nothing as he holds the same pace, letting you ride out your entire orgasm.

Fuck, there's so much that it’s leaking on the floor, and that’s what does it for him. That’s all he needed for his balls to churn and for his breath to stutter as he dumps his thick cum inside your perfect haven. Your mind is so gone you don’t hear Satoru’s mindless whispers of how perfect you are.

You watch him as much as you can, as much as your orgasm allows you. You watch his perfect reaction, his brows furrowing, and the words getting stuck in his throat every time he twitches inside you from overstimulation.

Had it not been for the way he carried you and sat down in his chair, you would have assumed it was finished, but he ignored the juices leaking from you every time he moved. He’s still hard, painfully so— you didn’t have time to be worn out before he started slowly bouncing you on his erection again. Everything was messy, your fluids mixing and dripping beneath you two, and the blood from your neck dripping slightly onto your chest. You cried out on his shoulder.

You were aware that there would be a lot to discuss within the next few hours. How Satoru compelled you and forced you to forget him, and how you still legally worked for Toji. You had no idea what you would even say to him, but with each steady bounce on Satoru’s heavy cock, you just don’t find yourself caring at all.

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『 bloodhound. || mihawk x reader 』

[PART 3 OF 4 - ONE PIECE'S KINKTOBER] - MIHAWK VER.

[SHANKS VER.] [BUGGY VER.] [SANJI VER.]

pairing: mihawk x f!reader words: lenghtyyyyy summary: your thievery catches the eye of a man who likes to take on every challenge that crosses him, only he did not know you were a bigger challenge than he anticipated. warnings: mihawk uses you. just assume the worst when reading my stuff. angst; smut; fluff.

You weren't a pirate, but somehow you got yourself a pretty little wanted poster. 10 million Berries, not bad! Not bad at all for someone who only committed a little theft.

Obviously by "a little theft" you meant stealing from the biggest banks and richest families - you just happened to like shiny things!

You got under the Marines' radar when you managed to infiltrate the base and steal some of their maps - yes, they weren't shiny or pretty, but the money you were about to get for them from the likes of Arlong and Buggy sure was. You made deals with good people and bad people alike, who they were mattered not to you - it only mattered that their money was real.

"You busy?" The Vice-Admiral's voice sounded in Mihawk's ear.

The man, who was sleeping, his hat covering his eyes, furrowed his eyebrows and groaned internally at the voice he now found annoying.

"I was, Vice-Admiral, but I find myself free now that you woke me." The man answered, an impertinent tone in his voice.

"I got you a new prey."

Interested in the way he described you (as a prey), Mihawk listened attentively to the instructions the Vice Admiral gave him.

"A thief? You woke me and are sending me out to sea, because of a little girl who stole some stuff?" Mihawk asked with a condescending tone.

"Not some stuff. Too much stuff."

The man rolled his eyes as he made his way to his small ship

"And the Marines are not able to catch her?"

"I think you will find the task harder than it seems, Mihawk."

With those final words, the Vice Admiral hung up, tired of Mihawk's judging and condescending tone. The man groaned, getting a little tired of these seemingly easy tasks the Marine sent him on - he was a Warlord, for fuck's sake, and the Marines used him to go after a measly thief...

You, on the other hand, rested on the shore of an island whose name you didn't care to learn. You hadn't robbed anyone or anything on it yet, so you wanted to enjoy the sea, the sand and the food while no one was looking for you (even though someone already was, you just didn't know it yet). You were very confident in your skills, constantly changing your look, attire and personality to make you harder to find or recognize. Few people ever suspected you, and so the confidence that you'd never be caught grew.

Obviously it didn't take Mihawk long before he was able to find you - all he had to do was ask around which islands had recently been tragets of many robberies and find the closest island that had yet no reports of such a thing happening.

"Have you heard? Dracule Mihawk is here! I'm sure I saw him, you can see his sword from miles away!" You heard someone whisper as you walked the streets of the island.

Your furrowed your brows at the information... Dracule Mihawk? What would a Warlord be doing in such a small island? Unless...

Your eyes widened in realization.

Shit.

Maybe you weren't as careful as you thought, maybe you weren't as good as you thought, and maybe you weren't as "uncatchable" and untraceable as you thought. If he was able to find you within a couple days of setting foot on the island, Mihawk surely would be able to spot you.

Shit. Fuck.

You needed to sneak on a ship that very night and get the fuck out before the man found you. You kept cursing internally as you had to leave the island before even being able to steal anything - but it was either leaving empty handed or leaving tied up.

For the time being, you hid on the island's vast forest, where you were sure he wouldn't look, waiting for the moon to come out.

When the sun began setting in the horizon, you made your way out of the dense jungle and headed to the island's port, looking for the biggest and most crowded ship - the more people it had and the bigger it was, the hardest to spot you, the unsolicited company, would be.

"I had to admit, I thought the whispers of my arrival would ruin our encounter, yet here we are." You heard a male voice speak behind you, as you walked on the port's creaky wooden floors.

You slowly turned around to unfortunately find the man tasked with bringing you to the Marines. You smiled innocently and held your hands up in surrender.

"Sorry Sir! Think you got the wrong person, I'm just boarding now!"

Your lies didn't work on Mihawk, that just rolled his eyes at you.

"Boarding? No ship is boarding at the moment, as both of us can very clearly see. I know who you are girl, make this easier for yourself and give in."

You smirked and scoffed at the man.

"Can't believe the Marines sent a Warlord after me, am I that dangerous?" You said, placing a hand over your chest, pretending to be shocked.

Mihawk was a little surprised about your change in demeanor, but he (obviously) didn't show it.

"Neither can I." He said honestly, with a sigh that showed the utmost boredom "So let's make this quick shall we?"

Your eyes were set on his sword and necklace. They were intersting... Pretty and... shiny. Oh you wanted them, you wanted them bad. Especially since you didn't get to steal anything in the island. You knew you'd hardly be able to steal the big heavy sword, but the little cross on his neck? Child's play.

You switched your confident expression to a fake shocked, sad one and walked over to him slowly, with your wrists together in front of you - you pretended to give yourself in for the sake of getting closer.

Mihawk's confidence, boredom and belief that he was better than anyone and capable of outsmarting every opponent, as well as the fact that he underestimated you, were fulcral for your escape plan.

When trying to find a ship, you spotted a couple that had left not long ago and would be easy to swim to. For you, obviously, not for Mihawk that carried

The Warlord was not surprised you gave youself in, some people would do so in hopes to fall in the Marines' good graces and get better sentencing.

"Pretty knife you got there." You said, pointing to his sword

Mihawk furrowed his eyebrows and, while he was busy being offended you called Yoru a "knife", you grabbed the cross on his neck and dove into the water, furiously swimming towards one of the boats that had left not long ago, but was far away enough from shore for Mihawk not to be able to follow you.

"Fuck!" He yelled.

It was dark and the waves were wild, it was impossible to follow you with his sight, let alone physically. And he couldn't attack the ship - it was full of civilians.

When you reached a ship, you pretended to be a scared woman that had fallen overboard in another ship and they immediately took you in and offered you food and clothes, in an attempt to make up for the supposed trauma you'd told them about.

You were the number one thing on Mihawk's priprity list from that day on - he was obsessed with you. Any other targeted ordered by the Marine was ignored or done as a side quest as he looked for you - the woman that had stolen his necklace and worse, the one that outsmarted him.

On the other hand, you were giddy you were able to pull it off, and wore the necklace (hidden, of course, as to not raise suspicion) as a prize.

You wouldn't see each other for two months. You thought you were safe from his radar, but that couldn't be further from the truth. To be fair, you knew that if he was looking for you, he'd be at the big ball hosted by Kaya, and you knew it'd be risky to attend but you absolutely couldn't miss it - so many people to steal from, so much jewelry... A paradise to you.

So you did your best to disguise yourself: a dress far more revealing than usual, to take away attention from your somewhat recognizable face and a long, black wig with a fringe and two strands on each side that framed your face, hiding your features even more.

Mihawk refused to leave Yoru behind, even if it meant you'd recognize him in the middle of the crowd. He was determined to get you, no matter what means he had to use.

You waited a while before starting to swipe stuff - you wanted to give people time to get somehwat drunk. That would make it so they wouldn't notice their things vanish so easily and, as a bonus, they'd probably blame the loss of their items on the alcohol, and not on a thief. It was perfect.

You hid the sutff you had stolen on your pouch, in hidden places on your outfit and, in some cases, you wore the jewelry as if it was yours.

The party was cut short on your end when you saw a feathery had and a shiny sword walk in the big doors of the mansion.

"Oh... Shit." You cursed under your breath and scanned the room to find the best exit.

The stress and fear of the Warlord seemingly still following you made your brain momentarily stop, and you did not stop to think that someone hurriedly making their way out right as he walks in would be suspicious.

"Gotcha." He thought, with a smirk, as he spotted you making your way to the back.

Before you could get far, a large hand captured your wrist.

"Leaving so soon? Why don't we dance for a little, my lady." Mihawk whispered in your ear.

You had no time to reply as he spun you around and pulled you to his chest.

"You have something that belongs to me, Y/N." He whispered again.

To the unknowing eye, it would seem you and Mihawk were simply dancing to the song, but you were very much fighting, although not in a way that would alert the other guests that they were in possible danger.

"Why don't you come find it?" You suggested with a smirk, as the man spun you into his chest.

"There will be plenty of time to find it, trust me." His hands travelled your body, looking for the cross you had stolen, correctly assuming you kept it close, instead finding several compartments with jewelry "Is this all you've stolen tonight?" Mihawk asks, amused.

You chuckled.

"I was just beginning, until someone crashed the party."

Mihawk pulled you close once more.

"I doubt you're in the guest list, I'm hardly the only one crashing a party."

"So now what?" You asked with a scoff, looking up at his big, yellow eyes "You take me in and hand me to the Marines?"

Mihawk scanned your face - you were good. You had just been caught, yet you displayed no trace of stress, despair, panic... In fact, you looked confident. And Mihawk wasn't sure if that impressed him, agered him, or aroused him. For you to be so confident in the face of power and danger... that stirred up something in him that he wasn't sure how to describe.

"I'm not so sure. You've made this personal when you stole my belongings." He replied, with an expression you couldn't decipher.

"I also made fun of your pretty sword." You said with a giggle.

That was the turning point that had Mihawk swing you over his shoulder and carry you out. Some guests were far too drunk to process what had happened and the ones that weren't simply didn't care - they had free food and drinks, why should they care.

The man carried you out to the garden, to a secluded place surrounded by bushes, trees and tall flowers. There was a small gazebo in the center but it was far away enough Mihawk was sure no one would come snooping.

"That's it. Where is it!?" He asked, as if you had wasted his patience completely (which you had).

Mihawk not-so-carefully threw you on the ground and straddled you, making you groan when your head hit the hard wooden floor.

When he obtained no response, his hands began searching you, taking out every piece of jewelry he found - your pouch, your hidden pockets, your body.

"Hey!" You complained, gathering the jewelry others had worked so hard for (and you had worked so hard to steal from) as best as you could.

"Where is it!?" Mihawk growled, his face, centimiters away from yours, as his hands angrily gripped your thighs.

You knew you had no way out of it now, so you might as well succumb to his wishes.

Mihawk watched as you slid off the straps of your dress and pulled it down slightly, to reveal that his necklace was stored in your bra, between your tits. You giggled in his face, making him even angrier.

"You know what?..." The man began, taking his cross away from you and placing it down far away "You've caused me a lot of trouble... and most of all you made fun of me to my face."

His hand made its way from your thigh to your neck, gripping it slightly, before bending over to whisper in your ear.

"I think I've just found a way for you to pay for all the trouble."

For a second you thought he was going to kill you - even though choking wasn't his style, nothing was off the table, you thought. It was only when you saw a lustful glint in his eye that you understood what he meant.

"You like to fuck all of the criminals you find along the way?" You teased with a smirk.

Mihawk stood up and, as he did so, he gripped your hair and made you kneel in front of him.

"Can't wait to shut that pretty little mouth of yours." He says through gritted teeth, as he pulled out his cock and slapped it against your cheek a couple times.

You obidiently open your mouth as you look up at him with big eyes, and he shoves his lenght in your mouth. The man gathered your hair in a ponytail, making it easier to control you and fuck your face.

"Who knew you could be such a good girl? Hm?"

You could only moan in responde and grip his thighs for support. When you looked up at him again tears brimmed in your eyes, from how hard he was fucking your mouth.

When the man pulled out, you gasped for air, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip.

"Feel like talking back now, brat?" Mihawk asked, voice dripping in fake pity.

You opened your mark to hit him with a snappy remark, but he took the oportunity to shove his cock back into your mouth, efffectively shutting you up once more.

You gagged on his cock over and over, a tear rolling down your cheek and eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as he fucked your throat.

Mihawk's abdomen clenched as he felt himself getting closer and closer to climax, and just then he pulled away from your mouth.

The smudged makeup running down your face and swollen mouth alone would've been good enough to make him cum - oh how he loved putting brats in their place.

The man sat with his back leaning against one of the sturdy wooden collumns, and patted his thigh, signaling for you to sit on his lap.

"What makes you think I won't just run away." You asked with a broken voice, your throat a little dry from him fucking you.

Mihawk scoffed as you crawled over to him.

"I know you won't." The man responded in a cocky voice.

Worst part was that he was right.

As you straddled him, one of his arms wrapped around you, keeping you hovering over his cock. The man pulled up your dress and pushed your panties aside so he could access your pussy.

"Oh but you like being used, don't you? You like being a fuck toy, right princess? Just a hole for me to fuck?" Mihawk asked condescendingly, as he ran two fingers along your dripping folds.

You bit your lip as you heard those foul (and very true) words leave his lips.

"Answer me." He demanded through gritted teeth, delivering a harsh smack to your yes.

"I do- I love being used by you."

Mihawk chuckled, running his tip alolng your folds.

"I can tell, princess."

His tip found your entrance, and he had no mercy on you. He slammed you down on his cock. You gripped his shoulders, and your mouth fell open - although you were incapable of making a single noise.

The arm that was gripped around your waist controlled your movements as his hips slammed up against you, fucking you at an inhuman pace.

"Come on princess, don't you like being a brat? I dare you to try it now." Mihawk dared, whispering the last part in your ear.

"I- I won't be! Fuck- sorry!" You apologised between pants and moans, your eyes barely open.

"That's a good girl." He praised, nearly out of breath from fucking you.

"You feel good... so good." You admitted in a husky voice, earning a smirk from Mihawk and a spank that was meant to be a reward (and you took it as such).

The Warlord attached his lips to yours in an animalistic kiss, accentuating the fact that he was in control, he owned you in that moment.

You moaned incessantly into the kiss, mixing with his groans, as you gripped his shoulders.

"You look- you look so much better like this. Being obedient, with my cock deep in you."

The way you bounced on his cock became sloppy, as did his thrust, signaling you were both close to climax.

Mihawk bit and sucked your neck, marking you as best as he possibly could at that point.

"Fuck Mihawk I'm gonna cum!"

The hand that was not busy gripping your ass flew to your neck, choking you just the right way - in a way that almost made you cum.

"Did I tell you you could? Beg." He demanded through gritted teeth.

Your legs faltered at your command, but his hand held you up.

"Please, please Mihawk... I need to cum, please!"

Your high-pitched moan combined with the way you begged was enough to make him give you the green light.

You came on his cock, a loud whine and a call for his name leaving your lips. Mihawk grabbed your hips and snapped his against yours until ropes of cum filled you up.

The both of you stayed still, regaining your breaths and resuming the tension of the pre-sex moment.

Mihawk reached out to grab the cross that you had stolen from him and wrapped it around his neck once more, enjoying the familiarity of the item.

"I guess you gotta hand me over, hm..." You said, in a fake sad voice, trying to appeal to his soft side now that you had his dick in you.

He simply scoffed.

"You won't get sympathy from me, princess." The Warlord said, placing his hands on your ass "However, this world does need a few new wild cards, it's getting boring. And you have the right attitude, I think you'd have a lot more use beside me, as a student, rather than in a cell."

It was almost as if he was debating with himself about the theme as he exposed it to you.

Before you could speak, Mihawk anticipated himself.

"You'll have plenty Berry to buy your shiny paraphernalia..." He clarified, rolling his eyes.

"Well... Having your grumoy self as a teacher beats being behind bars... so I guess you got yourself a student."

[ma1dita]

I need a pt 2 to the Luke and long distance!gf PLEASEEEEE

mdni

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

pt 1 here

a/n: man... getting out of my writing rut so here's this filth. sexting. kinda public. luke cums in his pants. what a loser

wc: 780

*bzzz*

Luke’s phone buzzes for the third time in a row in his Financial Marketing lecture today. The notification shakes his phone against the wood of the table to the point that it’s bugging the hell out of Chris who’s locked into whatever the professor’s saying—but as soon as Luke sees your name flash across the slightly cracked screen of his iPhone, he drops his pen in favor of you. His brother rolls his eyes, slumping further into his seat head lolling against his arm. There’s a smile that immediately settles upon Luke’s cheeks at the thought of you.

“baby 🤭 you busy?”

“why are you not answering you don’t even like this class anyway”

“fine ig i’ll ask someone else for their opinion 🤷🏻‍♀️” 

He chuckles lowly as he types out a reply, “opinion on what babe 👀” and Chris nudges his arm with a nod to ask if everything’s good. The professor drones on in the background about the stock market and for once, Luke is glad that Hermes gave him the ability to skate through his Econ degree (the only think he’ll be grateful to his absent father for), because it gives him more time to focus on more important things, like the slew of images of you trying on bikinis that infiltrate his phone.

[5 Image attachments]

“oops sorry! guess i sent them to the wrong person”

He gulps almost comically, shifting in his seat as he saves them for later. Shifty eyes and quick fingers can only do so much in a crowded lecture hall. But you see that his read receipts are on, and frankly the lack of a response is irritating when you’re pulling your best poses in the comfort of your living room. Boys never get how much effort it takes to be sexy.

“damn. guess i’ll go find a new boyfriend who can appreciate all of this”

Luke sighs, half stifled by is need to see you bare and his spit going down the wrong pipe that he clears his throat loudly, trying to ignore his jeans tightening by the second. Licking his lips, he clicks on the presentation slides, trying to catch up to where the professor is after your very welcome distractions. 

[Image attachment]

He presses the ‘next’ button just as another iMessage notification pops up on his screen, trigger finger clicking open an image of your tits pressed between your fingers, nipples taut against the fabric and lips between your teeth—all shiny soft skin almost bursting through the flimsy top that’s loosening and almost vivid through the still image. If there’s more, he thinks he’s seeing stars.

Luke slams his laptop shut and it echoes.

He takes a deep breath trying to remember what year it is.

“You good bro?”

Chris mumbles with a furrowed brow, watching sweat glisten against Luke’s flushed cheeks.

“Not feeling well. Think I’m gonna head out. Send me notes later?”

It’s almost an inside joke between the two of them, but Luke laughs a little too hard trying to play it off. He shoves his laptop into his backpack, before slowly weaving through the row and hoping no one noticed his girlfriend’s tits on the blown up screen of his Macbook. But then again, something’s obviously off as he walks stiffly towards the exit, feet swift with no predetermined destination. Luke contemplates the probability of someone interrupting him in the hall bathroom if he goes there to rub one out. His dick is hard and weepy, frustration brimming at the seams of his resolve when he walks out of the lecture hall. Readjusting himself into his waistband and groaning at the pressure, Luke wonders if he can walk home fast enough.

[Video attachment]

He stops in his tracks as he opens your message, the sound of your moans and slick movements of your fingers buried under the damp bottoms of your bikini almost too loud in his Airpods. His dark brown eyes trace the movements of your swiveling hips on his screen and he leans against the wall to groan lowly, a pathetic noise clawing up his throat, until his mouth dries at the sight of you parting the fabric aside just in time for him to watch you cum hard, soaking the rest of your hand and the leather of the couch beneath your ass. Luke doesn’t realize his body’s unprompted decision to join your release until he feels a sticky, uncomfortable warmth pool against the bottom of his shirt, soiled beyond belief.

His head of curls bangs against the wall behind him as he moans.

*bzzz*

A lopsided grin forms on his face when his phone buzzes again in his hand.

[crguang]

Hi!! May I request NSFW with these prompts. I prefer if you write them with sub afab!reader in mind cuz I'm just a big sub and bottom for these gorgeous women <3 kafhimeswan makes my heart swoon ♥

1. gp!Kafka

“Slowly, baby, I’m not going anywhere.” (#43)

2. Black Swan with this prompt makes me akbdhsbsjsbs hehe “Does it make you nervous when I stare?”(#86)

3. Himeko makes me yearn!! “I don’t want anyone else. No one else can make me feel like you do.” (#64)

btw I always come back to your kafka fics and your black swan 9k+ smutshot, I just can't get them out of my head, I love how you write them!!!

ive been wanting to do this one as soon as you sent it and finally got the time, hehe. save me kafhimeswan, save me… these prompts were amazing, ty for the kind words too!

cw: smut, fem!subreader, gp!kafka, vaginal penetration (kafka), fingering and mirror sex (swan), scissoring (himeko)

The two of you are a tangle of limbs and heated touches, needy sighs and broken moans as your lips lock in sloppy kisses and your hands travel down each other’s bodies in messy attempts at undressing the other completely. Kafka has an advantage since you’re only wearing jeans and a t-shirt for this infiltration mission; she lifts the shirt off your head and absentmindedly throws it across the room, and her mouth is back on yours the moment it’s taken off. Her nimble hands make quick work of the buttons on your pants while you fumble with the harness over her chest. She chuckles into your mouth, a low, muffled sound of amusement, and one of your hands leaves her torso to tangle in her hair, gripping tight. Her head tilts back with the movement, a sharp exhale through her nose the only indication of how aroused the gesture made her. The smug smile on her face shows her pearly white teeth. Her eyes, though lidded, threaten to swallow you whole.

“Eager?” She asks, but she doesn’t need an answer. 

Kafka guides you back into the wall with a firm hold on your hips, pinning you between the cool drywall and the warmth of her body pressing against yours. You feel her breath on your lips and her chest into yours. She lifts a hand to tilt your head further up, giving her better access to steal the air from your lungs with another heady kiss. Her tongue explores the inside of your mouth, swirling around your own and wetting your lips in the process. Your mind fogs up and desire takes over your senses. You want her closer despite there being little to no space for it, and your fingers hook under the waistband of her shorts to pull her further into you. Kafka doesn’t bother taking off your bra, she slips a hand under the material and grabs a handful of your breast, delighting in the noise of pleasure she draws from you. She squeezes and fondles, her need apparent in her lack of gentleness. Your hips rock into hers and the pleased hum that rumbles from her throat only turns you on more. 

You’re already wet, you can feel the fabric of your underwear cling to your cunt as Kafka kisses you languidly and plays with your hardening nipple. Your fingers wander down her shorts to palm her over the clothing. The sensation of her growing bulge under your hand combined with her hot mouth assaulting yours makes your head spin. You need her so badly, you’re tempted to beg her to fuck you stupid. 

Her lips trail down your jaw and end where your neck meets your shoulder, parting to suck the skin until it darkens, and her tongue darts out to soothe it afterwards. Her teeth leave love bites across your shoulder, prettily marking you up in a way that would take half an hour to cover up. Her fingers harshly twist your nipple, prompting a surprised moan from you, and you grip her clothed cock over her shorts in retaliation to which she simply hums dazedly. 

“If we had more time I would punish you for that,” her voice speaks of future promises, and she raises her head to gaze down at you, the dim light darkening her irises. “That’ll be for later. Luckily for you, there’s only half an hour before the IPC barges in here, so…”

Kafka pulls her shirt out of her leather shorts and expertly unclasps their buttons. You watch her hands push the clothing past her hips and down to her ankles, busying yourself with doing the same thing to your jeans. Your mouth waters at the outline of her thick cock under her boxers. You swallow a couple of times, not dwelling on your disappointment at the fact that you won’t have the time to properly take it into your mouth. Kafka’s hands are on you again, squeezing your hips as she presses against you and bucks into your covered cunt. Her lips find yours hungrily with a pace even you have trouble following.  She takes, takes, takes what she wants without ceremony; she pulls down your underwear so it hangs around your ankles and spreads your thighs as far as they can go using one hand, never letting go of your mouth and swallowing the breathless whimpers that escape it. 

She betrays her own need with how urgently she sinks two fingers between your labia and smears your slick over your pussy. Her middle finger dips past your dripping entrance, drawing another weak, broken moan from you, but it withdraws a few seconds later. You don’t have time to whine for her to fill you, Kafka separates from your mouth and slides her underwear down her legs, freeing her already leaking cock. You don’t have the time to admire her either, she’s on a mission (well, two) and instantly grinds her cock into your cunt. Your eyes fall shut at the sensation of her shaft sliding between your pussy lips, coating her length in your slick. It brushes the tip of your clit and you have to hold on to the back of her shirt to stay upright, thighs trembling from the pleasure. 

Your needy moans and quiet mewls drive Kafka crazy. Despite the need to keep a clear mind, her desire to take you right there burns hot in her stomach and makes her throb almost painfully. She aligns her cock with your entrance, groaning low as she sinks the head into your warm cunt. Your forehead falls on her shoulder, lips parted to let out another whine, and your fingers’ tight grip on her shirt wrinkles the fabric, pulling her even closer.

“Mm… Slowly, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

Kafka inches into you slowly enough to allow you some time to adjust to being filled. Her fingertips dig into the skin of your hips. It takes some effort to pause and let you catch your breath once she’s fully inside you. She lifts your thighs and wraps it around her waist to give herself more room to thrust deep into your pussy, not bothering to conceal the drawn out groans that spill from her lips. 

“Mmm…” Kafka’s lazy moans sound near your ear, breath heavy as she fills you with her cock. Her pace is irregular, only seeking pleasure from you, and it takes all of your strength to keep yourself standing against the wall. 

It feels so good, you feel so full, you barely register your own pitiful whimpers. 

“F-Fu—Hah… Please…” You don’t know what you’re begging for; her throbbing head hitting that sensitive spot deep inside you, the release building in your stomach, the need for her to paint your walls white like icing on a wedding cake… 

You can’t think, can only babble broken sentences as she drives into you and pleasure rocks through your body in electrifying little jolts. You don’t feel the saliva at the corner of your lips from how long your mouth has stayed open. There’s that familiar, intoxicating feeling of your guts tightening before you cream on Kafka’s cock with a muffled cry into her shoulder. Her hips stutter, your cunt clenching tight around her and slowing her pace, though the intensity of her thrusts only increases with the need to come herself. She bucks into you roughly, taking your breath away. You see the birth of a star behind your eyelids. Kafka comes suddenly and bottoms out inside you, emptying herself into you in hot spurts, a curse on her lips. 

You’re a bit dizzy when you come down from your high, biting your lip as she slips out of you. You know you have a mission to complete, but your legs have turned into mush and Kafka has to support your standing weight with an arm around your back. You’re breathing heavily, and the minutes pass where your mind begins to sharpen back to its original state. Kafka has a pleased smile on her face, gently letting go of you to dress herself, and you sigh happily while you do the same.

You hear thumping footsteps from the floors below.

“Kafka, where’d you put my shirt?”

“…Mm?”

“…Are you fucking serious?!”

Your eyelids lower, your mind in a daze so blissful you can’t fully register the scene happening through the standing mirror right in front of you. Dried fruit and smoky notes fill the room with the scent of her and unscarred hands brush along the muscles of your arms; the unnatural warmth of her immaterial body pressed into your back cages you in, a dizzying embrace you wish you could live in until her duty calls her away. She is at once in front of you, staring back at you with dim, lustful eyes, and she is around you, touching you like she’s savoring the feel of you under her fingertips. Her presence appears larger than life and you are sprawled in the center of her palm, exposed to her hungry gaze and unable to hide even the deepest parts of you. You find it difficult to meet the galaxy reflected in her eyes, its intensity is only amplified by the fact that she undressed you mere moments ago and you are now stripped to your underwear and completely at her mercy. Round nails painted to match the colorful stained glass jewelry over her collarbones leave proof of their passage in the form of goosebumps that rise on your skin as they trail across your chest, following the edges of your bra. She teases you, revels in your flustered expression and the knowledge that she has reduced you to a puppet on her strings. 

You watch as her hand travels under the pad of your bra and replaces it with her palm, possessively cupping one breast. Your head lolls to the side and your eyes flutter shut for only a second; slender fingers under your chin firmly guide you back to face the mirror and you bite back a needy noise when your nipple is pinched between two digits.

“Forgotten already?” Black Swan’s low, sultry voice sounds from behind your ear, amused and playful. “Eyes on me, sweet girl…” 

You comply and meet her gaze through the mirror, embarrassment washing over you at the sight of her pleased smile and the position you’re in. Your stiff nipples are visible beneath your bra, your thighs are already spread in anticipation for her touch without her saying a word, and in this moment, she could do anything to you and you would take with a desperate moan. Her fingers dig slightly into your jaw, keeping you from moving your head to evade her heated stare a second time. You shift a little, flustered, because the hand around your breast has stopped moving and your body longs for her skillful ministrations.

“You’re squirming…”  You feel her warm breath on the back of your ear and it sends a shiver down your spine. “Does it make you nervous when I stare?”

Your throat is dry, and you can’t manage a reply. You swallow once, unable to be anything but honest when she looks at you this way, as if she already held every answer you could ever provide. You feel her at the edge of your consciousness, her presence made purposely obvious to your senses. She is everywhere and she wants you to be aware of it. 

“How adorable,” Black Swan’s hand leaves your face and traces the plane of your bare stomach. Her lips stretch in a wider smile, one she means innocent but that has an edge of desire she can’t contain. “Forgive me, darling, but I cannot resist. You are a painting.”

The compliment doesn’t surprise you, she repeats it quite often, but her sincerity still makes you bashful. Black Swan chuckles at your reaction and presses a kiss to your shoulder. Her fingertips slither further down, toying with the waistband of your underwear, and you suck in an inaudible breath, anticipation taut in your belly. You watch each of her movements through the reflecting glass like she wants you to; embarrassment and arousal merge together inside of you as her middle finger sinks between your lips and leisurely rubs your covered slit, feeling the wetness through the thin fabric. You feel Black Swan’s aroused hum from where her lips are still pressed to your skin. She proves her own eagerness by slipping her hand into your panties and running two of her fingers down your slit, properly coating them in your slick. You can’t conceal a quiet moan when she circles your pulsing clit with a digit and applies delicious pressure to the sensitive bud. The hand on your chest resumes its gentle massage. All the while, her eyes, like glowing suns against the pitch black of the firmament, drink in every inch of your body under her touch and sears the moment in a corner of her mind she will share with no one else. 

Black Swan touches you with the expertise of someone who’s learned you from the inside. She draws sharp gasps and breathless moans and lustful sighs out of you as if she were a conductor and you her favored symphony. Her lips follow a path to the crook of your neck, prompting you to tilt your head, and plant hot kisses on your skin. She toys with your clit using two fingers and repeats each ministration with the ones on your nipple. Your stomach tightens, pleasure tingles down to the tip of your toes, and your own fingers grip her thighs to keep yourself upright, digging into the soft flesh. You don’t last long. Your clit throbs as you come with a long moan, eyes screwing shut with the intensity of the pleasure assaulting you, and your thighs close together, trapping her hand between them. She’s forced to stop the sweet torture of your pussy but continues to pinch and twist your stiff nipple under your bra to prolong the sensations.

Black Swan’s mouth wanders up the side of your neck to your ear. She sucks the lobe between her lips, and your chest heaves, body shuddering as your orgasm slowly subsides. 

“How ravishing you are…”

Your lashes flutter at her soft words, blinking to look back at her through the mirror. In her eyes is a bottomless hunger that you’ve become familiar with over time, it is gaping and consuming, and she doesn't have to utter another word for you to understand that she will indeed ravish you.

Himeko is a vision above you, straddled on your lap with her knees on each side of your frame, forcing her plush thighs open; she towers over you as a fragment of your most yearnful dreams, long vivid hair cascading down her back like the most beautiful waterfall and creamy skin so soft to the touch it almost feels blasphemous to sully with your hands. Her bare body is a creation of a higher being, but your disbelieving eyes are drawn to the stars in her eyes when she gazes down at you like you are worthy to stand by her side. She looks at you the same way you stare up at her, with undeniable devotion. It is something you often have difficulty coming to terms with because how can someone so beautiful choose to wake up next to you every morning? Your lips are parted and her gaze is tender, an adept hand brushing up between the valley of your breasts. 

Himeko leans forward until her chest is flushed to yours and cups your cheeks in her warm hands, staring into your eyes with a smile in hers. 

“Is it not obvious how much I adore you?” Her muttered words are warm against your lips, her golden irises as bright as an afternoon sun. 

It is. Himeko loves you in a way that is so evident, to you and everyone with eyes to see and ears to hear. She always handles you so carefully, not because she’s afraid you’ll break with a firmer touch but because this is how she loves. It’s in a reassuring hand on your lower back when you’re nervous and in gentle kisses up your neck when she wants to show you just how much she reveres you. It’s in how deeply she listens when you speak and the words of affirmation that easily spill from her lips. Her feelings are incontestable, she makes sure of it, but your treacherous mind still can’t fully comprehend why. Even now, beneath her weight, you feel she could have anyone she desires and is instead here with you. It’s baffling.

“Of course,” you reply just as quietly, lifting a hand to brush red strands out of her face, “it simply feels… nonsensical, at times.”

Himeko’s thumb brushes the skin under your eye. “You idolize me too much.”

“It’s impossible not to.”

She fondly shakes her head but her small smile is radiant. She traces your features with a finger, over your brows and along the bridge of your nose, then follows the curve of your upper lip. Himeko watches the movement of it on your face before meeting your eyes once again. 

“You’re so beautiful. How could I be anything but in love with you?”

You don’t answer her soft question, averting your gaze for a second. Her head bends to press a kiss on the corner of your mouth before capturing your lips with hers. Her kiss is gentle yet firm, tangible proof of her desire for you, and you feel your body heat up under her for the second time tonight. Her tongue swipes over your bottom lip then slips into your mouth to entangle with yours. You’re aware of the warmth of her thighs caging your hips and the remnants of the pleasure you ripped out of her earlier, a mix of slick and cum smearing over your lower belly from where she is pressed against you. Your hands take hold of her waist, squeezing once. Himeko’s uneven breath fans across your lips when she withdraws from you. Bodies flushed together, you can feel each shiver that runs through her as her need for you builds, the heat between her thighs growing wetter with every kiss she takes from you. 

“You are worth… all of my attention...” she breathes out between each one, “all… of my devotion… so sweet…”

Himeko kisses your lips, your jaw, up your cheek and down to your mouth again like she can’t get enough. Your lashes flutter under her affection, and you readily welcome her mouth on yours, your cunt throbbing with arousal. Her hips begin to roll into you, seeking sweet friction, and she swallows the moan that leaves you. She smears her cum on your skin with every rhythmic motion of her body, but it isn’t enough for either of you. Himeko lifts her head and the thin string of saliva connecting your lips breaks on her chin as she straightens up above you, the embers of her eyes alight with both lust and a determination to prove that her heart belongs to you. 

Her chest rises and falls, perky pink nipples adding a soft color to the canvas of her skin. She shifts, settling between our thighs with one leg over yours, and holds it up over her shoulder with a hand. 

“I want to feel you…” 

Himeko lowers herself on you, slick pussy sliding over yours in a messy kiss, and she makes a low noise that is half moan and half groan at the contact. She looks so pretty with her lidded eyes and parted lips, your breathing stutters as she takes what she needs from you and bucks her hips further into your cunt. A quiet moan escapes you and your fingers grab a fistful of the sheets beneath you. You follow her pace, encouraged by her sounds of pleasure and the feeling of her clit bumping into yours. 

“Aeons… Mmnh…” Himeko’s broken sentences are breathless and underlined with pretty moans. She lifts her free hand to cup her breast, long hair draped over her back when her head tilts back.

She feels so good against you, your combined wetness makes it easy to grind into her pussy in search of friction. You’re unable to look away from the flush across her chest, her rosy cheeks and the shine on her lips, greedily taking in the sight of her as if you’ll wake up any moment and find her gone from your bed. Your body is hot, sweat begins to cling to your brow, but you can’t focus on anything but how gorgeous Himeko is and how good her cunt feels like this. She spreads her cum over you, warm and slick. She doesn’t contain the noises that tumble from her mouth, aroused sighs and low hums, and the frequency of them tells you that she’s close to coming. You feel your own orgasm build in your lower belly, begging to burst. 

“H-Hime—” you stammer pathetically, words interrupted by a needy whine. 

Himeko’s gaze connects with yours at the sound of her name uttered so breathlessly. She understands what you mean to say, she’s teetering on the edge herself, and she manages a quiet command.

“Come with me, sweetheart.”

A quiver runs through your thighs as your release washes over you, and Himeko lets out a high-pitched moan at the same time, fingers closing around her nipple. She comes with you, bucking her hips into your pussy to ride her high, her head tilted to the ceiling. Your cum mixes with hers, dripping down your cunt and ruining the sheets below you. You try to steady your thundering heart, a forearm over your forehead. You feel Himeko’s little shivers and hear her heavy breaths before she finally separates from you and resumes her earlier position on top of you. Her nose burrows into your neck, breasts pressed to your torso, and you wrap an arm around her frame to hold her against you. 

It takes a moment before she can speak properly again. 

“I don’t want anyone else. No one else can make me feel like you do.” The confession is warm against your pulse, directly spoken over your heartbeat. “I’ll prove it as many times as I have to.”

You don’t tell her that you already believe her.

[kafkaesque22girlfriend]

The Damned P.1

Toji Zenin x fem! reader

Synopsis: forced to get in with the Zenin clan by your parents as a servant, Toji Zenin seemed to damn you more than himself….

Being a servant in the Zenin household was not for the weak-willed or the weak-minded, it took strong foundations of a strong mind to survive within these endless, lavishly adorned walls of the Zenin Compound. One of the three big clans in Jujutsu Society, blossoming the pure, clean bloodline of the strongest sorcerers in the modern and past Jujutsu eras.

Your parents pushed you into being here, young but not ditsy, focused yet polite. The Zenin really didn't care, they just wanted the free labour, but you did get a roof over your head when the Zenin took you in as a servant. Little did you know that your parents literally sent you off to serve strangers and live with them for God knows how long. Your cursed technique was strong and your parents wanted the Zenin to know that and get in with the family, even if you started as a lowly servant. To infiltrate? To gather information? To be married off? To destroy from the inside…? You didn’t know, nor did you care at this point.

The clan leader, Naobito Zenin, sent you off on your way as if he didn't give a single thought, as if he was washing away the dirt on his hands. You were young and inexperienced and you didn't deserve the reward of the bigger duties so you were sent Toji Zenin's way, the black sheep, the damned one in the Zenin clan. You would be the personal servant of Toji Zenin.

Which leads you here now, standing by the foot of his bed, ready to wake him up like you usually do. Late. It was nearing 11 am and the clan needed to be in the training quarters in about half an hour. You glanced at Toji, seeing the drool escape from his mouth, his hair roughed up, and the sheets that barely covered his naked chest. These were the only times you felt Toji not be intimidating. You opened up the curtains and the windows, letting the fresh air ventilate the room. He grunted when the light hit his eyes at the most perfectly uncomfortable angle.

“Get the hell out.” He groaned angrily as he covered his eyes with his bulky forearm.

“Rise and shine, Master Toji.” You say with a faint warmness, anything to keep this civilised and polite knowing he could lash out quickly. The light seeps through the room and bathes it in the sunlight. He looked peaceful lying there, it's shame you had to wake him. He never looked so peaceful while he was awake, and, sadly, we all know the reason why. Toii grumbled and groaned, lifting his arm from his eyes.

“Can't even fuckin' sleep in this damn house.” He opened his eyes and was met by the sight of the sun hitting against your silhouette. He then looked at your face and rolled his eyes, a sour expression filled his face once more. “And do me a favour, and don't call me 'master' if you don't want your teeth punched in.” Toji fucking hated that, fucking hated it all.

You immediately frown. “It's not like I want to call you that, you are my superior. I work for you, I have to refer to you as that.” You explain to Toji as if he didn't already know it clear as day. “Would you like me to bring in a gong and wake you up like that?” You say, a small smile tugging at your lips at the insane hypothetical.

“I don't give a damn if you have to call me that, just drop it.” He growled against his pillow, glaring at you in the process. Toji then sat up from the bed, resting his head on his right hand as he looked at you blankly. He couldn't help but believe that there was some charm to you in how you were so polite. Your expression had an innocence to it that he had never come across in the cesspit that was the Zenin compound. “If you dare bring a gong in here, I'll break it and then your ribs.”

You knew that he was very much capable of doing that, so you didn't push further. But your mouth ran faster than your brain.

“Well then Toji, if you break my ribs...who will be making you breakfast every morning? Speaking of which, if you want food, I'm making some. So get up.” You say a little more firmly this time, you've never been this challenging towards your superiors, part of you wants to take it back, what if the clan deject you for being disrespectful? You frown slightly and leave the room to head back to the kitchen and finish preparing his breakfast.

The first thing he did when you left the room was let out a groan of frustration. It was always like this, you were being too much of a pushover to him. Always too kind. That was what irritated him the most. Maybe he was projecting. He needed to stop thinking that. Toji got dressed into his montsuki and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and freshen himself up, he hated how every day started the same.

-

Soon, you heard his footsteps walking towards the kitchen, a few seconds later his hulking figure appeared at the doorway, leaning against the frame as he crossed his arms.

“I can make my own breakfast.” He declared in a low and husky voice.

“No, you can't.” You say politely but your words carry some weight to them that resounded throughout the whole room.

Each clan member had a specific section of the compound to themselves, so you had an entire kitchen to yourself to prepare food for Toji. He couldn't make his breakfast even if he tried, servants were solely assigned that duty.

You glance up at him leaning against the doorway, you finish plating up his Teishoku and serve them, you place it on the kitchen island in front of you. “Coffee sir-? I mean Toji..” You say softly, fumbling over your words but correcting yourself.

Your words irked him like nothing else, you were so nice to him. He loathed it. What made you so kind in the face of someone like him? “Quit this 'sir' bullshit.” He was trying to play it cool, his eyebrows slightly raised as he spoke. Internally he was confused by your ongoing kindness, you were like this from day one. He didn't like the fact that he had to work around your kindness.

“I apologize. Bad habit.” You let out a nervous chuckle, trying to ignore the burning green gaze zeroing in on you. Your expression was trying to hide the fact that you were uncomfortable with his presence. Toji was a little more than impressed by how you were handling him like this still. After all, most people would be scared shitless already.

As you hand him his coffee, Toji notices the band-aids on your fingers. The skin looked red and brittle and it made him raise an eyebrow. “What happened to them? And don't say 'nothing' or 'it's nothing.” Toii muttered under his breath, trying to distance himself but still be curious at the same time.

“Oh, I burned myself by accident, the stove was too hot.” You respond a little curtly, turning your back and starting cleaning up and clearing away. It was clear you didn't want to talk about it, the real reason was rather daunting as Naoya Zenin threatened to break your fingers because you didn't do a task correctly.

Toji watched with intent simmering eyes as you turned your back to him. The first thing was that your reasoning behind it was obvious bullshit. You were lying through your teeth but quite frankly he didn't car enough to pry even further. "You're really clumsy, aren't you?”

Your shoulders relax as you sigh out, thankful he wasn't reading into it. “I am...I am. ..quite clumsy.” You breathe out.

You both know damn well you were the opposite but for now, it'll do. You turn around and take his empty tray once he finishes eating, giving him an agreeable smile. “Your training starts soon.”

Toji raised his eyebrow as an unamused look was engrained on his face. Why was his rudeness not affecting you in any way? Maybe you weren't listening to a thing he said, which made him even more annoyed. So he decided to try another approach. He just...didn't like how you...talked to him. “Can you stop being so polite to me? I never understand why servants are like this to their masters. Just do your job and stop acting like this.” He grunted.

You turn around and glared at him, annoyed that he didn't realize that you’re just doing your job. Anything less than perfection and obedience would be punished. But then again...who the hell were you to argue with a Zenin? “If that's...what you prefer.” You shrug your shoulders. You thought maybe he would appreciate some form of kindness considering the way his family actively despised him.

“Good...because there's no reason to be nice to me when I'm anything but.” He warned me you lowly. Toji was expecting you to break and lash out at him. Yet your reaction and expression left him feeling a little off-put. Why? Why weren't you saying anything? Why aren't you letting him walk all over you? He didn't like those thoughts.

Reluctantly, you nod your head, lips thinning into a straight line, and you try to stay as neutral as possible. If this is what he wanted, who the hell were you to argue? After finishing cleaning the kitchen, you make a move to leave the room. As you made your way to leave, Toji couldn't help but notice that your back was as straight as an arrow. Your body looked so proper and elegant, unlike others. Just your simple back in that tight-fitting kimono was enough to make him stare a few moments longer than necessary. That's when he called out to you and spoke with a neutral expression: “Do you always have to be so proper and respectful?”

Yet his voice was...softer.

You stop in your tracks. “I'm just doing my job.” You reply quietly, trying to get him to grasp that you're just doing what you're supposed to do. You walk away and leave him wordless from the kitchen, letting your words linger in his brain a lot longer than he should have.

-

pt 2 coming soon, get ready for angst and sexy times in the near future.

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Ten

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Mentions of cannon-typical violence. Azriel and Y/n have a late night conversation. Fluff and other stuff.

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

“Gwyn says hi by the way.” 

Azriel choked on his coffee, bitter flavor rising in his throat. Nesta sauntered into the kitchen, cool eyes glaring at the back of his head. Your familiar silhouette was nowhere to be found. 

Not here. His shadows whispered. With Rhys.

“Calm down you idiot.” Nesta’s voice dripped with unrestrained contempt as she poured herself a cup and sat. His tan skin glistened with sweat after his morning training session, inky tattoos splashing across his bare chest and trailing over his shoulders, down his back, and up to his neck. In the cloudy afternoon light it was difficult to tell where his shadows ended and where his tattoos began. 

“Y/n’s not here. You’ll have to walk around half-naked some other time.” 

Azriel winced. “That isn’t what—”

Nesta brushed him off with a wave of her hand, eyes narrowing over her mug. Azriel felt like a bug pinned down under a microscope. A crushed butterfly about to hang.

“How is Gwyn doing?” he asked gingerly, casually. 

“She’s fine. Believe it or not, the world did not end when you broke up with her.”

Again he flinched. “I’m sorry, Nes,” he whispered rather pathetically. 

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to. But you already know that.” 

There seemed to be no shortage of people he needed to apologize to: Elain, Mor, Emerie, Gwyn, even Lucien — especially Lucien. His cheeks burned to think of the absolute mess of things he’d made. Feyre had been the quickest to forgive him for the debacle with Elain and Gwyn. But as Cassian had mentioned at dinner, there was a reason everyone was staying away from the River House, and the reason was him. 

Two years ago he’d challenged Lucien Vanserra to a blood duel for Elain’s hand. It had felt so right at the time, so obvious: three sisters for three brothers. But it was only when their deaths had loomed over her head with shocking reality that Elain realized what a horrible mistake she’d made. The mistake they’d made together. 

“Call it off,” she’d commanded him, blocking Lucien’s bloody, heaving body. The son of Autumn’s sword had been kicked away, scraping across the rock with an eerie scream and disappearing over the cliff edge. But Elain had stayed, soft brown eyes begging, “Do this and I will never forgive you. What we did… it wasn’t right. It was a mistake.”

A mistake, she’d called it. Years of silent longing and bare bone brushes of their hands in dark hallways. All a mistake. Those words had haunted him. They’d chased him into Gwyn’s kind arms where he once again mistook the friendship he felt towards her as love and broke her heart in the process. Add that to his lackluster response to Mor’s coming out and… well he had a lot of work ahead of him. 

He hoped he would be forgiven in time, but that didn’t mean he’d twiddle his thumbs until that day came. He scoured Prythian’s publishers for new releases of adventure, mystery, and romance books — the raunchier the better — and they showed up every month at Cagniv Library like clockwork. The priestesses still thought it was part of a trade bargain with the Day Court. He’d sent Elain and Lucien plenty of letters and gifts, but either they weren’t being opened or they weren’t bothering to respond. He wouldn’t blame them either way. As for Mor and Emerie, they were gone with the wind, too busy infiltrating lands and enjoying an extended honeymoon on the continent to bother with him. 

That cold stillness in Nesta’s eyes transformed into pity. It was hard not to be reminded of her own failures when she looked at him. Seeing him angry. Watching him crawl into the darkest corners of himself and burn every bridge he crossed had been a shock to Nesta’s system. A plunge into freezing waters that brought pain and clarity. 

She sighed, rubbing her temples. “Just give them time, Az. They’ll come around. If they did it for me, they’ll do it for you.” “I think our situations are rather different.” 

“I don’t.” 

“You didn’t try to kill anyone.”

She grimaced. “I came close.”  

He stayed silent for a long while. He washed his cup. He dried it. He put it in the cupboard. 

“Can you—can you please not tell Y/n?” he begged. His voice was small and quiet. He’d been a fool in the past and made terrible decisions in the name of love. Mor, Elain, and Gwyn. They’d all lived more in his mind than in his heart — people he could never fully grasp, and therefore never lose. They’d been safe. Easy. 

It didn’t feel that way with you. You felt solid and warm, even if he’d only touched you once. You felt more real to him than anyone else. You felt like someone he could actually have. Which meant he could lose you before you’d even become his to lose. 

“You can’t keep her in the dark forever. Not about your history, not about the bond. If you’re going to learn anything from your brothers, learn that.”  

“I know,” he whispered. “I just want to get it right this time.” He had to get it right this time. “I want her to fall in love with me because she wants me, not out of some sense of obligation. I want…” I want to be worthy of her.  

Nesta shook her head, a laugh escaping despite her best attempts to stifle it. Azriel looked at her like she’d gone mad.

She giggled again. “It’s funny. For a male as handsome and desirable as you, you have the worst fucking luck with women. The Mother must have a twisted sense of humor.” 

Maybe she did. But Azriel was still enough of a romantic to hope that he had learned from his mistakes, and that his bad luck would end with you. 

You shoved the notebook off Rhysand’s desk, loose papers flying out like uncoordinated doves. 

“I told you notetaking was a futile effort.” The High Lord didn’t even look at you, too busy searching for invisible dirt beneath his manicured fingernails.

You groaned and dropped your head against the book he’d handed you two hours before. 

Rhysand had to smile at your frustration. It was a wholly different experience teaching you magic compared to teaching Feyre. With Feyre, her greatest barrier had been her lack of knowledge (and her hatred of him at the time). She’d been thrust into the world of fae without preparation, but it had left her malleable and adaptable. It was like teaching a newborn how to walk — a mind that could absorb more because it knew so little.

But you knew too much. You could spout off magical theory at the drop of a hat. You were a pedagogical master with a thousand mnemonics to your name. You were the first to wake in all of Velaris, making your way to the Library before bodies could fill the streets, and you only returned when the crowds had either turned in for the night or gone out to drink until daybreak. You swallowed every history book on the Night Court, Clairvoyants, daemati, and death gods until you felt untethered from the earth — until your mind began to float outside your body, buzzing with thoughts that never went away. 

But none of that mattered. Your power was an immovable object that couldn’t be controlled by logic or studying. 

You shoved against that power now.

“Good,” Rhysand nodded, leaning against the window, “You’re getting better at it.” 

He lingered in your mind, hovering over the depths of your emotions and memories like a bird ready to break water. It had taken some time before you felt comfortable with the intrusion. Your first lesson together, Rhysand’s presence in your mind had made it impossible to focus. Panic had seized your mind and your body until you could do nothing more than brace your hands and feet against the chair’s leather upholstery. You could have sworn you saw a head of silver hair to your left. The gentle pitter patter of rain had sounded like dripping blood. 

It wasn’t like that anymore. Henna had left you with a useful skill — you could wind your consciousness around Rhysand and keep him there, suspended in that indescribable space where your thoughts lay so he could do no more damage than you permitted him. 

Through your mind he felt the narrowing of your power. You imagined it like a blanket wrapped around your body, suffocating but familiar. It was this power that laced your skin and made contact with others so hard. You imagined the fabric shortening, creeping up your arms and legs, curling around your torso and squeezing like a snake. Inch by inch you tightened it around you, burying it within your chest instead of carrying it openly like a wound. 

You held a music book between your hands — Nyx’s to be exact. The little Lordling showcased a certain aptitude for the piano his father could only dream of, and being as young and protected as he was, the worst kind of emotion imbued within its pages was agitation. You could hear one of the ballads written within it as clearly as if Nyx was sitting beside you plucking out the melody. 

Tighter. Tighter. Tighter. You swallowed your power. Pulled what was outside inwards. Slowly but surely the music faded away until the book was as all books should be — silent. 

Sweat beaded your brow. This was the most difficult part — not tuning out the music, but keeping the volume at zero. 

Rhysand checked his watch. Waited. Checked it again. 

You lasted thirty minutes before your power burst out along your skin once more like a thousand prickling needles. You shuddered, half-disappointed, half-grateful that you could hear the melody again.

Rhysand clapped his hands, slow and proud. The grandfather clock in the corner of the room was dangerously close to five bells. Rhysand nodded. 

“Perfect timing. We’re done for today.” 

“I can go for longer,” you pleaded. 

“I know you can.” Rhysand pushed off the wall, polished leather boots gleaming. He was wearing his Illyrian leathers this time, the scent of wind still clinging to his skin after a visit to the northern war camps.

Old Illyria lasted thousands of years. The clans used to flow up and down the Steppes, following the tundrabeast that lay claim to those mountainous regions and were said to speak for their god Ramiel — Starbreaker, Night Herder — after whom the mountain is named. They don’t move with the cold winds anymore, even if they’ve kept their names: Ironcrest, Bloodborn, Windhaven, Seawhip, Hawkseed, Timberbane, and a dozen others. And they don’t make sacrifices, although the Blood Rite might be a close—

Rhysand rapped his knuckles on the desk to grab your attention and splayed his fingers wide. “I also know that the moment I dismiss you, you’ll scamper off to the Library to work until you can’t see straight.” 

You shifted in your seat. “I like it there.”

“That’s besides the point. If you keep going at this pace you’ll burn out. Then you won’t be able to help anyone. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” 

Your eyes widened ever so slightly. You hadn’t thought he’d noticed. “I know what it feels like to burn out and it’s not going to happen anytime soon. I promise.” 

Rhysand suppressed the urgent need to roll his eyes as you gathered your things and walked out the door. “And here I thought I worked too much,” he muttered beneath his breath. 

You carried Henna’s journal tucked within your new Librarian robes — black with ivory detailing and wide sleeves that narrowed at the wrists. You kept a hand on it during late nights at the Library. You ate with it propped open, black splotches swimming across the page like worms. You slept with it beneath your pillow. 

But alas, it would seem the book was going to make you work to wring meaning out of every odd symbol.

You were muttering to yourself as you walked back and forth in front of the fireplace. You’d effectively commandeered one of the reading rooms on the seventh floor, leaving the library only when required for Rhysand’s lessons. Helion’s most recent letter lay open on the table with Cherp’s resting just beneath it. A map hung crooked on the wall, four athenaeums circled in bleeding red ink alongside a list of books that had gone missing — the ones that people knew about at least. 

The Alcove, Ares House, Folkmen’s Bard, and most recently, Argot’s.

 Three Librarians dead. Their throats slit. Blood dribbling down their burgundy robes as they’d sat hunched over their desks. The week before it had been two from Ares House caught swaying from the third floor balcony. 

No one has any idea how it happened. The wards were never set off. Nothing in the Library was disrupted. I tell you this only because you deserve to know what’s happened to your people. Continue your training. Continue your research. Do whatever you need to do. But leave the court business to me, dear. I’ll write to you again when I can.

~ Helion 

“It doesn’t make sense,” you mumbled, drumming your fingers against your hip where the book remained silent. “None of this makes sense.” 

You’d used every ounce of Rhysand’s training on the book. You’d imagined your power sliding over it like water, fire, needles shooting through cowhide, a hammerstrike, every metaphor imaginable. You’d glared at it with an intensity that would have disintegrated a lesser object. 

When that failed, you had moved onto solving the murders and thefts at your father’s court. You couldn’t content yourself with sitting in one of the cushy, high-backed chairs in Rhysand’s office sipping imported tea in porcelain cups while athenaeums were on lockdown. 

The pattern was shockingly simple — Koschei was going after books that could be traced back to him. Books that might give his enemies the upper hand: folktales alluding to him and his siblings, translated texts from old Bauldish that might have proved useful in deciphering Henna’s book, secondary accounts of the age before High Lords ruled. 

If you were Koschei you’d go after Godswoods next — the collection of athenaeums dedicated to religion. Then on to The Gallows — the athenaeum on death and dying. The two were intricately tied to one another, but people tended to write books on dying before coming up with explanations for what comes after. You’d spent a great deal of time there following your mother’s death, and you could picture it now — solemn black bookshelves looping around a circular room that tapered up into a point like a blade pointed to the sky. 

You finished writing your letter to Helion, along with the list of books you wanted pulled from the archives. Cagniv Library may have been a glowing beacon in the Night Court, and a place of sanctuary for the priestesses, but it was nothing like you were used to.

You held the paper out in front of you, Helion’s glimmering pen tucked behind your sharp ears, and blew. The black letters lifted off the page and faded away like a breath in cold air. The message was already writing itself back into existence in Helion’s office.

“It doesn’t make sense.” 

You scribbled out another note, this one for yourself with another pen. You ripped it to pieces and fed it to the fire. 

What was Koschei looking for now? Was he still looking for the book that now rested against your hip, or had he turned to some other prize? And why kill the Librarians and set all of Day Court on high alert? 

Henna had been careful. She’d stayed hidden until she was forced to tear down the Alcove to get the book. Whoever was causing the killings now was either a showman or a fool. They left bodies hanging from rafters. They carved smiles into throats. They let the Librarians know what they were stealing whether they meant to or not. They left patterns scattered among wreckage for someone like you to figure out. 

It all felt… juvenile for lack of a better word. Someone young. Someone who wanted to prove themselves in a loud way. Someone whose ego hadn’t been tested yet and wasn’t listening to Koschei’s commands in their entirety. 

Azriel. 

You couldn’t help but think of him. 

Azriel was nothing like that. 

He wasn’t loud. He didn’t vy for attention. He didn’t seek the light in a room. His confidence was quiet and true. His kindness took the shape of the shadows that lingered by your ankles. It took the shape of the robes you wore now. He was the only one who’d seen them at The Alcove. He was the only one who could have requested the court seamstress to make a copy and leave it hanging in your closet.

No. Azriel was nothing like that.

Azriel’s eyes lit up like embers when you slid through the front door, weary but bright-eyed and cradling your journals against your chest. The shadows he’d left behind with you slithered across the floor like mist. 

She’s been in the Library all day. Working. The shadows whispered in his ear. She thought about you. 

Azriel smiled. He’d thought about you as well. “I was wondering where you’d gone.” 

You gasped, closing the door louder than you intended. You’d developed a talent for sneaking in and out of the River House unnoticed to the point where Cassian considered hiding bells in your pockets. Nyx had tried to do it as a joke, but you’d caught him giggling too loudly in your bedroom. 

You brightened immediately, a broad smile appearing on your face. Azriel felt his heart leap, then quiet as he caught the scent of parchment paper. 

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow?” You whispered, tip-toeing through the dimly lit hallway to where Azriel was in the sitting room. You sank into the couch with a groan. The hardwood desks at the Library had not been kind to you. 

He shrugged and brushed back his wind-thickened hair, shifting to face you better. A crumb-coated plate lay on the table and he still wore his leathers. He must have just arrived home. 

“I flew as quick as I could. I wanted to be home.” With you. 

He’d gotten so used to the feeling of you sleeping across the hallway that he’d flown the last three days without sleep. It was worth it to see you again. From the looks of it, you’d not fared well in his absence either. Your eyes had that glassy, half-there sheen: a perfect mixture of exhaustion and mind-crackling clarity. 

“And how were the Mortal Lands?” You tucked your knees beneath you and leaned against your hand, fighting the sleep that seemed to grapple for you now that Azriel was home. His wings were spread wide and you resisted the urge to close the last few inches between you and the talon that glimmered in the faelight like obsidian glass.

You’d never been that far south. You’d never had reason to. But Azriel flew far and wide. The Continent was now Mor’s domain, but the secret goings of Prythian and the Mortal Lands belonged to him and him alone. The Spymaster of the Night Court. The Shadowsinger.

Azriel shook his head. “Quiet. Koschei hasn’t touched them yet as far as I can tell, and the Mortal Queens don’t care. They seem to think that they can handle Koschei because he’s agreed to bargains with them in the past.” 

You made a noise of disapproval. “Like they handled Hybern? The only reason they’re still standing is because fae fought their war.” 

The scattering of human armies that had arrived on that battlefield had belonged to no crown. They’d either fought for the bloodlust or the money. You could respect them for that. 

Azriel tipped his head to the side, following the curling of his shadows around his shoulders. “But they are still standing. They don’t know what we sacrificed to keep them safe. That’s the problem with humans. They forget too quickly and get complacent” 

“It would seem we have the opposite problem. We can’t help but remember everything,” you said, with no small amount of bitterness. 

He wanted to keep you talking. He wanted your thoughts. Wanted to fall asleep to the sound of your voice after three weeks of silence. You weren’t aware of it, but the bond had felt thin the further he’d traveled away from you. Like a tightrope stretched to its snapping point. Now that he was back, and you were here, his heart didn’t feel like such a strenuous burden.

He smiled. “I think that’s just you. I know plenty of fae who are forgetful and empty-minded.” He leaned back, stretching his wings out to the side, and winced. They were whipped raw and tender from the flight. 

Without thinking you got up and moved to the fireplace, feeding wood to the flames until it crackled happily. There was a reason Cassian and Azriel loved to bath their wings in sunlight every chance they got. The heat helped the soreness and eased the wind’s rough edge. 

It also drove color into your cheeks and set your hair alight in a soft golden haze. You were a marvel. An angel with a halo to match and Azriel drank in the sight. 

“Like who?”

“Cassian.” 

You smirked and chucked the last of the wood into the flame’s gaping mouth. 

Cass was far from empty-minded, but after decades of being feared as the Lord of Bloodshed he was grateful that people loved him enough to be just a little mean. He gave and received friendly blows like kisses on the cheek and smiled all the wider for it. To threaten his life was the same as saying I love you. It must be why the Mother had made Nesta his mate. She said I love you to him all hours of the day. 

Azriel asked you what you were thinking, and when you told him he felt some of that pain slide off his shoulders like rain. He threw his head back and laughed until his chest started to hurt again and you thought about how rare that sound must be, and how much you loved it. 

“How are the others? Rhysand told me Feyre’s sister is down there along with your friends.” 

Azriel sobered up quickly and cleared his throat. “Yes. Elain, Lucien, Jurian, and Vassa.”

His voice caught on two names: Elain and Lucien, and it didn't escape your notice. He sounded... nervous.

“And? Are they alright?”

He rolled his shoulders and looked out the window to the inky black sky. Vassa would be sleeping now in her human form, and if she was lucky, she’d wake up in the morning still within the manor’s grey stone walls. Safe. Home. 

He shook his head gravely. “They’re nothing short of terrified. Koschei has Vassa under a spell that would normally keep her tied to his lake. He let her go during the war against Hybern and he’s been allowing her to stay, but… everyone’s just holding their breath and trying to prepare for the day he’ll take her back.”

You shivered and wrapped one of the spare blankets around your shoulders. You couldn’t imagine a life where every waking moment held the risk of being torn away from everything you held dear. The anticipation would have broken you more than the act itself. 

“I’ve heard of her. The firebird.” You murmured softly. You imagined a creature with glowing eyes, blue-red feathers streaking behind like ribbons set on fire. Azriel narrowed his eyes in confusion, and you explained, “Ares House records all wartime information. I read the reports. We’re very thorough.”

Azriel smiled. “I would expect nothing less.”

Silence passed in comfort, and you couldn’t stop thinking about Vassa.

“Do you think they’d be able to stop it if Koschei did make her go back?” 

“I don’t know, Y/n.” And it was driving him mad to have Koschei hanging around like a forgotten word at the end of his tongue.

“I hate this,” you spat out, “The not knowing. I hate it.” 

Azriel stared at you, hazel eyes silently begging you to continue. Shadows curled around your body, gently tugging you closer to him until your knees were a whisper away from touching. 

You both sighed softly into the quiet air. Even the River House seemed to be at rest for the night. The usual background hum of cooking and cleaning were absent. It was just you and the Shadowsinger. 

“How are things going? With the book?” 

You slipped your hand through the slit in your robes and pulled it out. The gold chain rustled, glowing faintly from your touch. 

“It’s going.” You shoved the book back out of sight. You couldn’t even stand to look at it after the hours you’d spent agonizing over its pages. “Rhysand’s been teaching me to contain my power better. I can actually touch some things now.” 

But not him. Still not him. And it was killing you. 

Azriel gave another one of his small smiles. The ones that never failed to make the world a smaller, more manageable place. “That’s good.”

“I just… this may sound silly but, I’m not used to things being this hard. With my powers a lot of things just sort of came naturally for me. But now people are dying and I’m just sitting here on this very expensive couch and I can’t do the thing I was brought here to do and I… I don’t like feeling this useless.” 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Azriel murmured. He closed the space between you even more, shadows hovering over your face in silent permission. When you didn’t pull away they brushed back the strands of hair that had fallen over your face with a cool, silky touch. 

Azriel was all calm darkness and you imagined that if you reached out to touch his chest your hand might just slip through him like he wasn’t there at all. He seemed too good to be real. 

But he was real, and he was sitting close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath fan your cheeks. 

“You’re not useless. Never believe that. Not even for a second. And even if you were useless, it wouldn’t matter. You’re worth more than the things you can do, remember?”

“I remember.” Your voice was quiet and thick. 

You rested your cheek in the crook of your arm as you gazed at him wearily. 

Azriel kept his hands out in the open, one hand reaching across the couch cushions before stopping mere inches away from yours. His shadows closed the remaining distance, slipping in between your fingers to mimic Azriel’s touch. 

“Did you uncover any more secrets of mine while I was gone?” Azriel asked as your eyelids began to droop. 

“I confess I forgot to look. But maybe now that you’re here, I’ll start again,” you mumbled into the encroaching dark.

“I look forward to it,” were the last words that filtered through your ears before you fell asleep to the untranslatable whispers of shadows. 

Nyx bounded down the stairs, leaping the last six steps before landing soundlessly on the floor with a soft bend of his knees — just like Azriel had taught him. Feyre gave a proud nod before ruffling his ebony hair and Rhysand beamed. 

Let me. Feyre adjusted the wrappings around Rhys’s chest that kept Velaria’s plump body swaddled and comfortable. Her pink lips opened in a yawn that had both mates sighing. 

“Uncle Az!” Nyx raced forward towards the sitting room and then froze, mouth opened in a surprised oh.

Azriel slept like the dead on the floor, chest rising and falling with the beat of his gentle breath. You lay stretched out on the couch, one arm propped beneath your head and the other dangling over your waist and off the cushions. Your fingers swayed an inch above Azriel’s chest, shadows swimming over his torso and creeping up your arms so that even in sleep you were connected to one another. 

Feyre gasped softly at the picture. The sunlight blanketing the both of you in peach fuzz. The faint uptick of Azriel’s lips and the smoothness of his brow. The way you looked like you were bleeding into him. The black of his shadows and your robes. 

Rhysand rubbed Nyx’s shoulder and kissed Feyre’s cheek.

Let them sleep, Nyx. We’ll get breakfast at Huth’s today.

Nyx let his parents lead him towards the door without protest. He’d never seen Uncle Az sleep so soundly in his life. 

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

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Author's Note:

Yeah... this slow burn is burning... but I just love it so much and I love writing all the sweet little moments they have and their conversations with one another and I hope you're enjoying it as well.

[kaidatheghostdragon]

"You must be Ra's," Tucker stated, careful to keep on a poker face while he frantically assessed the situation - tied down to a chair, in what was probably the heart of this particular fruitloop's lair.

And there was a frankly disturbing number of similarities to the OG fruitloop: the way he stood, the style of his hair, the perpetual sneer.

The way he sent a shiver down Tucker's spine like Vlad used to be able to way back when he was still intimidating.

"Gotta say," Tucker continued, shoving his emotions down like only a human-born liminal that dealt with empathic rogues on the daily could ever manage, "not that impressed. For starters, your vibes are rancid, dude. Like, what do you do, bathe in corruption all day?"

That earned him a slap on the face, "You will speak when spoken to," Ra's ordered.

Tucker witheld a smirk. This guy seemed like the type to order subordinates around to do absolutely everything. The fact that he personally slapped Tucker with his own hand? It could only mean that Tucker was already under the guy's skin.

"Well, that just means I can keep talking since you just spoke to me," Tucker retorted, unafraid of another slap. Really, compared to the abuse he put himself through helping Danny, and the way his liminality skyrocketed in the last couple of years, it was barely even a love-tap. It didn't even sting.

Ra's raised a brow, giving the distinct impression that he was absolutely livid, though that may have been the liminal empathy cluing Tucker in. He'd never been great at reading emotions until that particular ability developed.

"Who do you work for?" Ra's began the interrogation.

Tucker returned with his best affronted glare, "Frankly, I'm offended that you don't believe I could do all this entirely on my own."

"Kill him," Ra's stated as he turned to leave, sounding so unimpressed that it almost seemed bored.

Out of the shadows, an arrow flew straight at Tucker, who slipped his restraints (thank you liminality for giving him limited ghost powers) and caught the arrow before it pierced his chest, "Yeah, no. Imma veto that."

Ra's turned back around, looking almost impressed.

It made Tucker feel way slimier than Vlad could ever hope to achieve. He repressed a shudder. After all, his job here was to keep Ra's distracted while the others invisibly raided the place, destroyed the pits, and planted explosives.

Tucker, being the technopath, would normally stay behind in the chair, but the League of Assassins was well defended against cyber attacks, forcing them to pivot somewhat in order to successfully infiltrate the place. He ended up creating a digital duplicate of himself (a literal duplicate, like Danny could do, but Tucker's duplicate could only ever exist inside of a computer, by all appearances a true AI) that the others could upload to the servers once they found them.

Beyond that, there wasn't much Tucker could do beyond providing a distraction. Sure, the LoA's technology was absolutely worth drooling over, but they didn't rely on it like most of the modern world did. There was no internet connection, electronic locks, or surveillance for Tucker to hack into and make his own. This place was all stone doors and medieval fortifications.

"Impressive," Ra's complimented after a moment of silent appraisal, "perhaps you are worthy of my attention after all."

Tucker scoffed, getting the clear impression that this guy fully expected the ground he walked on to be worshipped after admitting such small praise, "You're not the first megalomaniac I've had to deal with, and you won't be the last." (Team Phantom had an entire list of fruitloops to work through once their LoA financial backing was removed, after all) "I'll give you props for the sweet ninja cult you got going on, though. Gotta say, that's a first for me."

"Assassins," Ra's corrected.

"Same diff," Tucker retorted with a handwave, knowing full well that a guy like Ra's would be miffed by such a dismissal. He further feigned disinterest by examining the arrow he was still holding. Tucker had taken a few archery lessons when he was younger and picked it back up by training a bit under Princess Dora's royal guard. He was... decent, with a bow. He could reliably hit his target as long as he had a couple of seconds to aim - or used something laced in technology that allowed his technopathy to steady it.

The arrow was expertly crafted and perfectly balanced. His heightened liminal senses smelled a substance on the arrowhead - probably a paralytic, not that it would have kept Tucker down for very long, even if it had breached his heart, which would have been a quick death for any baseline human. He tossed it from hand to hand a few times, feeling the weight, the threw it like a dart into one of the nearest shadows. A soft thud echoed through the room when the arrowhead bonked the chestplate of the assassin standing there, then a clatter when it fell to the ground.

"If I had a bow, he'd be dead," Tucker needlessly commented, thumb pointing to the hidden guard. He was somewhat surprised the dude didn't catch the arrow like Tucker had. But then again, if the shadows were meant to fully conceal him, catching the arrow would have given him away from the arrow not making noise or falling to the ground.

"You knew he was there," Ra's stated more than asked.

"And the eleven others," Tucker easily replied, "A full dozen to guard the King of the Cult. Not that it'll make any difference. I've already won."

Tucker didn't have any misconcieved notion that his liminality would give him an edge over a dozen trained assassins. It doesn't really matter how good your senses are or how fast your reflexes when you have to dodge a dozen attacks simultaneously. But what he could do was turn intangible during those first few seconds of adrenaline-fueled panic, more than long enough for either of the Phantoms, neither of which were currently more than a few hundred yards distant, to reach him and drag him away from immediate danger.

So Tucker latched onto that confidence borne of complete trust in his team, and radiated it as much as he could, daring Ra's to call his bluff with nothing more than a knowing smirk.

[buckrecs]

Hi!! Was wondering if you had recs for Bucky and reader fake dating??

Fake Dating / Marriage

masterlist | req masterlist

ONESHOT

Keeping Score by @all1e23

After hearing you begging Steve to pretend to be your fake boyfriend to keep your family off your back, Bucky quickly jumps at the chance to play your boyfriend even though you’re a hundred percent sure he hates you. What could possibly go wrong?

the right partner by @bucky-bucket-barnes

You and Bucky have always possessed a complicated history, and even more strained relationship with one another. Begrudgingly, you're sent out on a mission with Barnes where you two are posing as a newly wed couple. In an effort to investigate the consistent disappearance of young women in a certain neighborhood, you find yourselves forced to confront a whirlwind of emotions.

Suburbia by @wkemeup

Posing as husband and wife, you and Bucky infiltrate a quaint suburban neighborhood in search of a Hydra hacker. Perhaps if you weren’t so in love with him and he hadn’t broken your heart, the act of pretending wouldn’t hurt so much.

where do we go from here by @barnesafterglow

when you agree to be bucky's date for his sister's wedding - and his fake girlfriend for the weekend - you're expecting a good time with your best friend. but things may never go back to normal

Fake It Till You Make It by @buckyalpine

Fake dating solves everything… right?

A Little Longer by @buckyalpine

It’s just a little lie.

Crossing The Line by @jadedvibes

After your friends set you up on a blind date with your sworn enemy, you both drunkenly decide to mess with them by making a bet to see who can pretend to be a happy couple the longest.

annoying neighbors and fake boyfriends | 2 by @lovelybarnes

“You stayed over at my place one night but my nosy, annoying neighbour saw you leave. They always get on my case about being single so I told them that we’re dating to show them”

Undercover by @buckysknifecollection

You and Bucky go on an undercover mission, where you need to pretend to be married. You are close to solving the case when Bucky decides he’s done pretending.

Make Believe on Christmas Eve by @green-eyeddragonfanfiction

When your family insists you bring your [nonexistent] long-term boyfriend over for Christmas, you panic. You hadn’t expected to be put in this situation; you never thought you’d actually have to bring “him” over.

Stop flirting with the staff by @writingsoftheloser

You and Bucky go undercover to stop the sale of a very important device.

The Karen’s of the World by @espinosaurusrexex

Aunt Karen is possibly the worst person you know. So when her annual Independence Day party arrives, you try to give her as little reason to pick on you as possible. Not being single for once should cover most of the topics she complains about. So you ask your friend Bucky to play pretend.

Tis the damn season by @starrysebastians

On the first post-blip Thanksgiving, you find yourself having to reunite with your parents and your heart is not in it — Sam persuades you to take Bucky with you, and this might be an opportunity for you two to get to know each other.

SERIES

The Holiday Hack by @gogolucky13

You ask Bucky to be your stand-in boyfriend for your family’s Christmas party.

Breaking The Rules by @redgillan

You hate James Barnes with a burning passion and the feeling is entirely mutual. Just when you think things can’t get any worse, you are tricked into attending his sister’s wedding as his girlfriend. Stuck with a bunch of strangers, you come up with a set of rules that are not going to last long.

Best Boyfriend You’ve Ever Had by @language-rxgers

When you find out your sister is getting married and expects you to bring a date to her wedding in two months, you panic, having not gone on so much as a coffee date with a guy in far too long. After all, being an Avenger doesn’t leave too much time for a life outside of work. So, when your best friend, none other than the James Buchanan Barnes himself, offers to pretend to be your boyfriend and plus one, how can you refuse? It seems like something that would come out of a movie. However, real life is never like the movies, and stories like this never go as planned.

Stepping Up by @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend

When Steve can’t go with you to your cousin’s wedding, he sends Bucky in his place. What happens when more than one person assume you’re dating? 

Picture Perfect by @writingsoftheloser

When Steve asks his collegue to be his fake girlfriend, she accepts, thinking nothing could really go wrong. Then, she meets Steve’s best friend.

-> this is not bucky and reader fake dating but it’s one of my favorite fics so I included it!

Worst Idea Ever by @firefly-in-darkness

Wedding Season is brutal as it is but throw in two friends that decide to be each other’s plus ones and a mixed bag of feelings, what's the worst that could happen?

Heart to a Gunfight by @lailannajacobs

You didn’t want to help Bucky Barnes make it through the party by pretending to be his fake girlfriend, after all, you had just met him. You also didn’t plan on the charade lasting as long as it did. 

am i more than you bargained for? by @morsmordre-writes

Bucky has an unwanted secret admirer, so naturally you pretend to be his girlfriend until it blows over. Will someone catch feelings? Will they be absolute idiots about it all? Will they live happily ever after? We may never know.

Almost Had Me Believing It by @tuiccim

An undercover operation playing Bucky Barnes' wife is a dream come true. Playing house in the suburbs while trying to take down a drug ring brings you and Bucky closer but a nosy neighbor causes trouble in paradise.

A Certain Romance by @wienerbarnes

With the threat of yet another bad date at the result of Sam Wilson’s meddling, Bucky’s desperate to find a solution. As are you, another victim to Sam’s failed matchmaking. The two of you come up with a genius plan: pretend to date each other in order to escape the poking and prying nose of the Falcon.

The Proposal by @toomanyrobins2

Y/N Arnaud is the liaison to the Avengers, but she’s also a French citizen. After a couple mistakes, her visa application is denied. Even though they can’t stand each other, Bucky offers to marry her in order to keep her visa status in the U.S. and avoid deportation.

Follow My Lead by @ciarawritesmarvel

You and your new friend Wanda are enjoying a day together at the Avengers Tower, her giving you a tour around the place when you both run into the infamous Bucky Barnes. Moments later, he’s introducing you to Sam as his girlfriend and placing a kiss on your temple and you’re not sure you’ve ever been so confused in your life.

Where Dreams Go To Die by @insomniumstella

[y-rhywbeth2]

Strangely when I think of Durge as the head of the temple I'm seeing less murder time and more paperwork and management. It's an active temple and a "legal" religion, which means its got tithes and taxes and responsibilities to the government and thus has finances and shit that needs managing. Also they need to network: Bhaalists are tasked with infiltrating the halls of power, and there are the faith's sponsors amongst the wealthy and the nobility, who attend the red rooms and hire their assassins. You need to keep on top of the magistrates and law makers and who to bribe and so forth... and the prison times for members of the faith who get caught...

Bhaal is, after all, lawful evil and so is his church. Edit: except apparently 5e has been pointlessly changing things and puts him as neutral - in every other edition he's lawful and that doesn't change that temples have paperwork and taxes to do.

Everyone thinks its daggers in the dark and ominous chanting and black robes but it's actually late nights with a tankard of kaeth getting eye strain, wishing Bhaal would bestow his gift upon you so that you could escape the hell that is life: The certainties of life are death and taxes but gods, when will the Lord of Murder finally give you the first one?

And Orin keeps stealing your blacksticks, inks and quills and they always turn up in corpses found by the city watch a week later.

I mean you can delegate, I suppose. I wouldn't trust Sceleritas to do it, personally, after that "washing the dishes means smashing them into shards and sprinkling them in people's beds" thing. I would love to read that petition he sent in seeking to get the temple recognised as a heritage site.

Orin? I already fully supported Orin's murder attempt, but if they made her do their paperwork for them then honestly I think she deserved to win the entire game.

And none of it is anywhere near as bad as the paperwork and ridiculous levels of legislation that I'm sure Gortash gets working for Bane. Wherever the hell that temple/shrine is.