#nahhhhh

Going Awry

Mafia boss! Dan Feng x Spouse! Reader

When four shots was all it took for things to get serious. Let’s not waste any more time

Actual ask is after main story! Sorry! Started writing and got carried away!

Warnings: Guns, violence, blood, kidnapping, bullets, bullet wounds that doesn’t act like bullet wound because idc, mentions of stalking (?), tracking, air tags, pregnancy trope that doesn’t pregnancy trope, labor (Added story) birth (added story)

Note: I do not promote the mafia! Yes, I am aware of the fact it is an actual violent problem, I am not enabling or endorsing the behavior. This is fanfic. Don’t like? Don’t click

Part one - part two - part three - part four

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

You yelled in pain as you crumbled to the floor, feeling the awful throbbing of the impact in your foot, knee, arm, and shoulder— much too close to your neck. Five people stormed into your home, all aiming guns as they stood over you, faces hidden by masks and sunglasses.

“Bastards!” You spat, holding your knee as blood stained your clothing. “Absolute bastards!”

“Quit talking or else we’ll shoot that tongue out.” One of them told you, a burly man that looked like he could throw you with a single finger. Not that you cared, you’d still claw his face off if he tried it. “You’re lucky we don’t have orders to kill you.”

“Too bad. I do.”

Relief flooded through your body as another gun went off, shooting three of the people surrounding you in the head. The other two scrambled away, barely dodging the bullets aimed in their direction. You had to crawl from the burly man that toppled over like an unstable tower.

“I’ve never been more thankful for you being a freeloader.” You groaned as Baiheng helped you up, feeling her wrap your good arm around her neck, her other hand holding your side. “You can thank me later, Yingxing is waiting for us in the car.”

“You knew?” You hobbled quickly by her side, hearing three distance shots through the windows and yells of pain paired with the thump of bodies. “That they would be here?”

“Not us.” She led you through the backdoor where the white haired man rushed over, taking you in his arms and cursing underneath his breath, “Come on. We’ll take you somewhere safer.”

“Dan Feng had an idea they’d pull a stunt like this.” The purple haired woman explained as she hopped into the backseat once you were settled, quickly digging around in the bag on the ground for medical supplies.

Yingxing threw himself in the driver’s seat, moving so fast his movements were a blur as the car went from reverse to drive and sped down the street. You held back colorful words as you were jostled, especially when Baiheng pressed gauze against your wounds.

“How many?” The man asked.

“Four. Foot, knee, forearm, and the bullet skimmed the trapezius.” She answered, quickly wrapping your wounds as fast as possible.

“Lucky me.”

“You’re taking this surprisingly well.”

“It’s not the first time I’ve been shot.”

“Great. I love maniacs.” Baiheng attempted to lighten up the mood, and it would’ve worked in any other situation. Just… not this one. At least not for her and Yingxing, if you weren’t in so much pain, this would be an average Tuesday.

“So who’s they, exactly?” You asked them, huffing when the white bandages turned red. “The ones who sent those guys?”

“The Preceptors.” The two answered in unison. “Dan Feng’s little band of advisors,” Yingxing told you. “A council, if you will.”

“Real old school too.” Baiheng added, grabbing her phone and typing like her life depended on it, “They’re all about their traditional values and staying with their own—“

“—Conservatives,” Yingxing interjected.

“— and they’re annoying as hell.” She dialed a number, holding you as the car served again.

“Well?” Came a calm, monotone voice on the phone.

“Lingsha! Baby! Hey, we kinda need your help.”

“Another favor? If this is about what happened last year the answer is no—“

“Nothing like that at all! We got a friend who got shot and we need to bring them over.”

“My answer is especially no, then.” The woman, Lingsha, scoffed on the other line.

Yingxing reached in the backseat, snatching the phone from her and putting it on speaker, “How about you hurry up and get a bed open for the boss’ spouse or we’re all gonna have problems.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“No, but Dan Feng will sure as hell kill you.”

The silence stretched on too long for anyone to be comfortable, and Yingxing yelled into the phone, “Lingsha!”

“Alright! Fine! Bring them in, just quit yelling. You’re going to give me a hearing advisory.”

Yingxing threw the phone back to the purple haired woman once the call ended, blazing through the streets at such a fast pace it would demolish another car. You didn’t care in the slightest, only that you needed to hurry up and get care.

“Am I that famous?”

Baiheng snorted, “Ha! Any one of us are famous because we’re connected with Dan Feng. Whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing is purely up for discussion.”

“Wonderful.” You grumbled.

“You owe me.” A brown haired woman hissed at Baiheng as you were carried into a nice, rich house by Yingxing. He set you down in one of the beds as other women who seemed to be nurses started working on you.

“Yeah, yeah, put it on my tab.” She rolled her eyes, taking your hand.

“You’re going into debt at this point.” The woman focused back on you, taking a deep breath. “My name is Lingsha. I’ll be the one making sure you don’t die, it would be rather unfortunate.”

You chuckled, wincing from the pain at the same time, “I’ll haunt you if I die on your watch.”

“I believe your husband is much scarier than you.” She hummed and got to work.

“Believe what you want, sweetheart.” You grunted as she grabbed one of her many metal tools, somehow putting on a mask and taking off your bandages before you realized, and taking out the bullets one by one.

The woman did her job well, much better than how any other doctor would treat you. She cleaned up your wounds nicely and added some special concoction that somehow managed to heal your bullet wounds faster than physically possible.

Were you going to ask questions? Absolutely not. If it did its job, you weren’t going to say a word.

“Thanks.” You told her once she returned from running a checkup on you, just to make sure you didn’t have any internal bleeding or other unseen issues.

“Of course.” She wrote something down on her clipboard, “And congratulations.”

Your brows furrowed. Congratulations? For what? “For surviving? I doubt that needs a congratulatory—“

“I mean for the fetus,” she pointed to your stomach. “9 nine weeks.”

“I beg your finest fucking pardon.”

She didn’t seem too surprised by your reaction, “You’ve been noticing the symptoms, yes? Fatigue, morning sickness, mood swings, food cravings, headache, backache.” Well, you had. You just assumed that you did something wrong with your body, it’s why you decided to change your diet.

Or maybe that was the cravings. It does explain why your husband gave you such strange looks when you’d constantly eat Chinese food with a cup of ice from that really nice gas station. It was just really—

Ohhhhh.

“Yes.” Lingsha nodded at your face of realization. “It’s exactly what you think. Now, thankfully the bullet wounds did not affect the fetus. I’d be more careful going forward.”

“Right,” you sat up, “because I wanted to get shot four times on purpose.” She dismissed your sarcastic words in favor of bringing Baiheng and Yingxing— who had both been kicked out because they were ‘distractions’— who immediately rushed to your side.

“Well?” Baiheng held your hand, “How are you feeling?”

“From getting shot or realizing I’m pregnant?” You raised a brow.

“I beg your pardon?” Yingxing blinked. Baiheng reacted the exact same way, “You— you’re—?”

“Yeah.” You breathed, running a hand through your hair, “I am. I guess. That lady—“

“Lingsha.”

“— told me I’m 9 weeks along.” You slumped back into the seat once again, sighing, and then pinching the bridge of your nose. It’s just one thing after another, over and over and over again. You wondered how in the world Dan Feng has been dealing with this for so long.

“Oh.”

“Uhm… congrats…?”

“Is that a question?”

“I mean…” Yingxing grimaced and rubbed his neck, only able to get out of your burning glare thanks to his phone ringing in his pocket. “‘Cuse me.” He quickly turned, answering and holding it up to his ear.

“What?”

“We have a situation.” Came the voice of a sort of familiar man. The only person you can think of to sound like that is—

“Is it worse than the one we have now, Jing Yuan?”

“I mean, if you count the boss technically getting kidnapped by the preceptors worse than what you have going on.”

One thing after another.

“What do you mean technically?” Yingxing demanded.

“I mean they all walked outside and got in some car I didn’t recognize. I’m not entirely sure Dan Feng is with them of his own volition.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.” You swung your legs over the bed, walking closer towards Yingxing with Baiheng following your lead. “Where are they headed?”

The white haired man echoed your question, only to be answered with a sigh, “Not a clue. His phone’s location’s been skewed. And they took off all the trackers on the car. They’re determined not to be followed.”

“That won’t stop me.” You grabbed Baiheng’s phone, ignoring the way the woman protested, but was too curious to stop you. She watched you as you scrolled along the screen, tapping several buttons, and then her jaw dropped.

“You put an tracker on the boss??”

“I put tracker on everyone I meet, who do you take me for?” You told her, finding your husband’s location on the map.

“Everyone?” Yingxing dared to ask.

You didn’t answer, alarming the both of them as you set the phone down on the desk. “Here. In the western part of the city where everything is abandoned.”

“Great.” Baiheng crossed her arms, “And we’re supposed to get him where we’re vulnerable and exposed?”

You shrugged, “I got some connections. There’s a storage unit of mine near there too, I know a shortcut.”

“Sure, hon.”

“I’m sorry, what the fuck?” Baiheng and Yingxing, after driving you all to the storage unit, stared at the large garage full of weapons. Anything they could dream of was there. Shotguns, knives, pistols, revolvers, daggers, rifles, swords. You had a Bazooka and a morning star, for fuck’s sake.

“Take what you need.” You told them as you walked through the unit, grabbing the weapons that you needed, and paired it with a much needed belt. “Trust me, it gets restocked every month.”

“What—“ Baiheng sputtered.

Yingxing interrupted her lack of words, “Do you have some kind of other life we don’t know about? I mean— yeah, we do— but you? You’re so… you’re…”

“Sweet!” Baiheng waved her arms. “And soft! You’re too soft and sweet and nice for someone to have this many weapons!”

You stared at them blankly, your lips parted, and then burst into laughter. “Oh! That’s funny! That’s hilarious!” You wiped your imaginary tears, “That’s cute you think you guys are the only ones with a double life.”

“Does your husband know?”

“Pfft, no.” You snorted, throwing them their own guns. “Well, yes, sort of. I joke about it with him but I doubt he takes it seriously.”

“Are you…” The purple haired woman stepped forward, “Are you in a gang?”

“Me?! Hahaha!” You were just having a blast with their baffled expressions, “Noo! No, not at all! That’s not my forte.” You packed another round of shells, “I’m an assassin.”

“WHAT?!” They both shouted.

“Yeah.” You shrugged, “Like an assassin’s guild. I can’t say much about it, they’d kill me, but you get the idea.”

“And you…” Baiheng stared like you’d grown three heads, “never thought to tell us? Did you not trust us?”

“Ah-ah,” you shook your finger, “Don’t do that. You all refused to tell me what you all did as your jobs, you and Dan Feng. So don’t try to act like you’re a saint.”

She went quiet, pursing her lips, knowing that she couldn’t find the retort. Yingxing simply held his hands up in surrender, watching as you gathered everything you think you needed, and then more. The two grabbed what they needed as well, packing everything in the car and getting in.

The car ride was tense, all three of you getting ready to what was about to go down. Your held your phone in your hands as you got closer to the tracked location of your husband.

“Are you sure you’re supposed to be doing this?” Yingxing asked hesitantly, glancing at your stomach.

“If you give me the helpless pregnant woman talk, your head is going on a silver platter.” You glared.

“Keeping quiet.”

ACTUAL PART LMAO IM SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY AND THEN I REALIZED I KINDA FUCKED UP WITH THE ASK SO HERE’S THE INCLUSION

During your first trimester, Dan Feng would, initially, internally freak out. Come on, who wouldn’t freak when their spouse is pregnant? He’s a mafia boss for goodness sake! He was built for parenthood! He was far from what anyone would call ‘good’

He would overthink. A lot. He’d do everything in his power to take care of you, but he’d still be thinking about the fact that you could get hurt at any point in time. And when the baby comes? So will they

It’s why he’d fully debate on retiring from his position as mafia boss. He refuses to let anything happen to you or his child. The work was simply too dangerous to risk both of your lives. And for what? Because violence is the only language some people— including him— knew how to speak?

You’d really have to calm him down. Dan Feng needs constant reassurance that you’ll be fine and that nothing will happen to you. Knock on wood every time he says something will happen. I’m begging.

He would love it when you hold him in your arms, pepper kisses on top of his head, and tell him things are going to be fine so long as you have each other. It was sappy yes, but it was enough to calm him down

Now, during your second trimester, he’d go all “protective husband mode” and it would irritate the shit out of you. You know he meant well. There are days when you want to slap him.

Some days he hovers too much. Other days he’s too touchy. Checking up on you too often. Going out on shopping sprees and buying so much baby clothes, food, diapers, etc that it could help fifteen other babies (you actually told him to donate to one of the shelters for single and pregnant mothers because you had so much)

Other days, he gives you the right amount of space. He’s nearby. Not too close, but not to far either. Those were the days you appreciated, even when you had to tell him you weren’t completely helpless.

Third trimester? Yeah, take back your words bud. You weren’t completely helpless, but boy was it a struggle. This was the only time you actually let him help you. Be it picking stuff up off the ground for you or making dinner. If you want to do it yourself, he stays out of your way, but he’ll be doing most of the work

He gives you really nice massages though. Ones on your back, your feet, your shoulders. He was a blessing in disguise, truly.

Every night, Dan Feng would lie his head on your chest to first hear your heartbeat, and then move it down to hear the baby’s. He would love to hear the sound of them moving or kicking him sometimes when the weight of his head was too much. He’d kiss your swollen stomach, whispering soft stories or songs to both of you.

Your heart would melt every time.

Now, when the day came when your water broke. Dan Feng was freaking out on the inside. It was like your first trimester. 10x worse.

He’d make sure you’d get the best room with the best bed and the best doctors and nurses. Oh ho ho? One of the doctors aren’t listening to you birth plan? He kicks them out with the fury of a thousand suns. The nurse isn’t telling you the procedure to ease your mind? Kicked out.

You cycled through at least five doctors and one nurse until they realized it was better to listen to you and him.

He stayed by your side the entire time you were in labor, letting you hold his hand, tell him the dumbest things, anything and everything. He’d push your hair out of the way, kiss your head, and told you how proud he is of you, even if you didn’t give birth yet.

“You made a miracle.” Dan Feng would whisper to you, “All by yourself.”

“You helped.” You croaked, squeezing his hand when another contraction wracked through your body, “We wouldn’t have this if it wasn’t for you too.”

“I played a small part.”

“It’s 50/50, sweetheart.” You pulled him down to kiss him, “You did just as much.”

“In conception? Yes, I made sure to stay healthy. But everything else is all you, my dear. Don’t give me credit where it isn’t due.” If you weren’t in agony, you’d protest. But you only kept quiet to endure the contractions, and he let the topic drop.

Dan Feng would stay out of the doctor’s way when you start to push, holding your hand or stroking your hair and letting them do their thing. Only when he heard the cry of his newborn did he finally break, giving you thanks and kisses, telling you that you did wonderfully, saying how lucky he was to have you.

He was completely adored at the sight of you and the baby, his eyes watering with tears as they lied on your chest. His violent view of the world completely changed when he saw the good. When he met you, when he fell in love with you, when he married you, and when you had their child.

Not everything was horrible. Not everything was doomed. Not everything was so pessimistic nothing mattered anymore.

You mattered. Your child mattered.

“My family.” He said against your temple, stroking the small baby’s back.

You gave him a tired smile, “They look like a deformed potatoes.”

He burst out laughing. What a great way to start his retirement

the stereo sounds strange

*grabs the fandom itself by the shoulders* WHY DIDNT ANYONE TELL ME HOW FUN HE IS TO DRAW AAAAAAA

i have to catch up with the lore (I watched it back in like 2018 or 2019… my English was bad back then…) but …..like…..,,,, him,,,,,, he’s so silly…,,,

(click for better quality ;v;)

btw, doodles under the cut