#how the fuck is the doctor expected to remember all that

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

i think when the doctor says stuff that contradicts their own life like "ive never been this far out" it's not lying or poor continuity, i think it's just memory

#i tell accidental lies about my own life and experiences daily #and im only 25 #how the fuck is the doctor expected to remember all that #and even if theyve done it before #but dont remmeber #even if its not like evil mindwipe dont remember but just. regular. it's been 1000 years dont remember #if it feels to them like its the first time then for all intents and purposes of that line it is the first time #right? #i suppose thats up to your philosophy but according to mine #then it is the first time #also i think as a writer you have to pick and choose what continuities to honour or you'll drive yourself mad #i dont actually know if this particular one line was incorrect #i just think ive seen someone say so #but like im not actually entirely sure what the difference is between like #the end of the universe or the end of time or between universes or Whatever #so #what is 'farther out' who knows not me

[quarks-pussy]

So I know we here at Startrekfandom love that "came back wrong but from the pov of the wrong" thing and apply it to many different characters and canon situations and I am far from trying to complain about it (I'm "came out wrong" trope myself so I was always gonna obsess over it) but having recently watched a very important episode (you'll know which one) for the first time I think there's a character who hits both tropes mentioned but llike, intertwined, opposite and subverted, and whom I wanna talk about.

Julian Bashir.

From his parents' pov he's "came out wrong but we got him help and he came back better" while from his own pov it's "came out 'insufficient', was destroyed for it, came back wrong and only later slowly came to terms with his new self tho never the process (justifiably so)" and it's heartbreaking because in a way, he's right! Jules Bashir died! His parents had an intellectually disabled child and decided to eugenics him! Julian is not the person he used to be and while I do love the person he is now, that doesn't bring back who he was! Part of me wishes we could've gotten to see Jules at least once and part of me hopes we never do because my heart would shatter.

This isn't a good comparison but nonetheless one I can't help drawing: it's giving similar vibes to anti-vaxxers. "I'd rather risk having a child who is dead than one who's autistic". Obviously this doesn't map over since Julian is still autistic and the procedure his parents subjected him to specifically targeted his intellectual disability and if any folks with id wanna comment on this I definitely recommend you listen to them over me, but it's a similarity I, as an autistic who has encountered anti-vaxxers again and again, can't help but point out. "Give me a normal child or give them death."

This may have been written about already but there needs to be stories about teenage Julian (after finding out and rediscovering who he was) practicing some good ol' recognition of the self through media. I need to hear about how he would encounter a story about someone who came back wrong (I'm gonna assume there's plenty of "wrong" pov stories floating around by the 24th century) and absolutely weep. I need to see Julian mourning Jules, taking years and years to process his feelings, experiencing guilt about how he, the imposter, didn't deserve to live Jules' life.

Came back wrong from the returned's pov but it wasn't an accident. It was done to you deliberately by the people who claim to love you. And now you are here, piloting the corpse of your predecessor.

Jules Bashir is dead. Long live Julian Bashir.

#i've called julian jules before simply as a normal nickname but i don't think i ever will again. not after this #and knowing that if it had been possible i would have probably gone the way jules did. knowing that at his age i would have gone willingly. #fuck dude i am literally actually crying literal tears irl right now this is not a joke #fuck!!!!! #julian bashir #jules bashir #doctor bashir i presume #came back wrong #star trek deep space nine #HE WAS SIX YEARS OLD!! HE WAS SIX YEARS OLD AND THEY KILLED HIM!!!! #i cannot stop crying i am literally crying and like not even just a little #i cannot... poor julian how the FUCK do you ever come to terms with something like that #and like... julian remembers. he has most if not all of jules' memories and also knows he was murdered simply for not being julian #like how did he cope #(im about to go off on a tangent that will contain censored names for the sake of not clogging those tags if you dont know who i mean hmu) #like this is literally the thing that fucked up j*ran so bad he went on a murder spree isn't it #he remembers the one who came before who was killed. very different circumstances of course esp since tr*ll are expected to replace one ano #another but he remembers this person he remembers BEING this person who was young and simply enjoying life and who died a sudden death and #he remembers the experience of that death as well and how it lead to his own creation. it's not remotely similar ofc but considering that #the only time we see t*rias in alpha canon is in julian's body... i need to lie down for a moment. #and jor*n couldn't cope! he couldn't! it was far too much and the weird thing is right now in this moment i GET it y'know?? like that's #so horrific. and i haven't watched any jo*an episode besides facets yet but do you think. do you think j*dzia told julian about all this an #he nodded along and kept composure and then when he was alone he broke down crying? like julian you're doing SO well ily you're coping and #you shouldn't have to obviously but you do nonetheless!! do you think julian still has something from jules? like i've heard there's a tedd #but i mean jules prolly didn't keep a diary he was a six year old with an intellectual disability it's pretty unlikely he could write but #does julian have drawings made by jules? i'd like to think so but honestly his parents probably threw them out. like they also moved so #sorry i'm just. many thoughts head full. ive stopped crying now but who knows for how long. also i'll have to tag this with my original tag #maybe i should've picked something less silly for when i make serious posts but like what am i gonna change my url as well? don't think so #original posts fresh from quark's pussy #and thats the tag limit folks it's been fun. i had to delete two other tags but my god. anyway. thinking about jules bashir forever & cryin

[quietwingsinthesky]

there’s a progression in there, somewhere, of even going from ‘the master might kill me any day now :(‘ to ‘the master is going to kill me :) she’s not going to let someone else do it after all this time’

#i wouldn’t call it hubris exactly. more like this pretty secure surity that that’s how they’re going to die. #and to them that makes sense. they chose this. they keep choosing it after the doctor offers them a way out. #because this is. they understand this. and they feel safe in the reprieve before their death. #how do you control death? choose who kills you. the last defense of a prey animal. #something something dark mirror to clara’s ‘i am owed’ speech for even is if this ever. doesn’t work out the way they thought it would. #clara tried to threaten the doctor so that he’d reverse death for her. even would turn on the master if she tried to spare them. #i am owed better. i am owed the death you promised… i am owed the knowledge that you don’t care enough to save me… you know. something like #that. #even is. kind of. meant to mirror the doctor’s companions at the time. they are a martha who can’t leave him. they are a donna who has to #remember and never speak about everything they know. they are clara if during deep breath clara reached back and truly didn’t expect. truly #hoped. that no one would take her hand. because if they can be certain it will happen they can know never to reach again. #jesus christ. go to therapy boy. you have so many trust issues. #but that’s why they’re Like That with the master because at the end of the day. who is easier to rely on? the guy who comes in to put out #fires but only sometimes. or the guy who. really really fucking likes starting fires. #better to get burned hoping someone is coming or get burned knowing that’s what would happen. and even. chooses the latter. #AND ALL OF THIS. for me to say thats why i cant actually let the master ever kill them. #i think she needs to do something worse to even. i think she needs to abandon them. #and that will either set them free to go have healthy normal relationships or. lets be honest much more likely. completely fucking break #them. which would be fun :) for me. #dw oc

[diejager]

Omfg pervy roommate König!!! And his poor little roommate is none the wiser to how he abuses her poor cunt every night. He does such a good job fucking his load into her that she confides in him as a friend that she’s pregnant and is super shocked!! But that’s okay, he’ll always be there for her. Now she’ll never be able to leave him. <3

Cw: forced pregnancy, NON-CON/CUB-CON, DARKFIC, pervy!önig, perverted behaviour, somnophilia, dacryphilia, breeding kink, possessive behaviour, pregnancy, drugging, tell me if I missed any.

You’re blissfully unaware of his advances, or his nightly excursions into, pumping his cum into your already filled womb and putting a baby into you. He liked how disoriented and confused you look the day after, waking up pantieless, your bedsheets crusty and dried cum sticking to your thighs. You always come to him for advice, wanting to know why you came all over yourself, leaving you covered in your own slick and cheeks burning with shame when you told him, oblivious of his gleeful eyes narrowed down at you with a hidden grin.

It goes on for a while, he feeds sleeping pills - the ones from his prescribed-bottle for his insomnia - breaking half a pill down to a fine powder and spike your bedtime drink, waiting for you to doze off, sleeping so deeply that even an earthquake wouldn’t wake you up, and he fucks you. He, sometimes, takes his time, thrusting slowly, enjoying the slow and romantic pace, feeling you wrapped around him. Other times, he goes feral, pounding and bruising you, hands manhandling you into the prettiest position to let him fuck you deeper, the head of his red, angry cock kissing your cervix brutally.

You don’t take pills or any contraceptives, letting your monthly cycle roll over and deal with the cramps with painkillers. So he’s not surprised when you come crying to him about being pregnant after going to see your doctor about your daily nausea and stomach pains. He expected you to be pregnant after so many nights of filling you up, pushing load after load of fertile cum - he takes supplements to make him more virile - into your young womb, what he didn’t put into account was the long time it took to finally knock you up, the months he spent waiting and biting the skin off his thumb until it bled to have you round and plump with his child.

You had the prettiest face when you cried, eyes puffy and lips pouty, it made his cock stir, throbbing in his pants. It drove him wild, seeing you cry and whine about not being ready to be a mother, still so young and oblivious to who the father was —you didn’t even remember the last time you fucked anyone. König spent the day comforting you, wiping your swollen eyes with high-quality cashmere tissues he bought just for you, whispering sweet lullabies to you until your tears stop - much to his chagrin - and cradled you in his lap, fingers thumbing the soft fat of your thighs, running soothing circles with his calloused thumb.

He’ll wait until the baby’s born to tell you he’s the father, he might not be patient enough to sit around and wait, but he is patient enough to know when he should and when he shouldn’t wait. He’ll care of you until you come to term. He has the money to buy you whatever you need, KorTac is the best paying PMC and he was a colonel in the past, racking up a large sum of money before he signed a contract. Your cravings, your needs, your wants and whatever else you ask, your roommate - your soon-to-be-husband - König will take care of everything.

What a nice roommate you have, no?

Taglist: @hiraya1802 @tess0288 @elichisstuff @emodanoriddler @kenz-ee @bunnyclaire @akenosimp167 @havoc973 @death8match @yourliebling @allicsirp00 @cross-axis @hereforhotbitches @delulu4ghost @monster-in-paradise @nordicvsp @madi0987 @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @223princess @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday

#tw: noncon #tw: dub con #tw: dubious consent #tw: dark content #dark content #dark fic #dead dove do not eat #pervy!konig #Pervy!könig #mw2 smut #cod smut #konig smut #konig x reader #konig mw2 #cod konig #konig #könig #könig smut #könig x reader #könig x reader smut #konig x reader smut #konig call of duty #tw: forced breeding #tw: forced pregnancy #tw: somnophilia #dacryphilia #tw drugs #tw: non con #pregnancy #x fem!reader

[spif-lol]

People can hate on Chibnall's era all they want and while it's not without it's problems I will always defend it if ONLY for it's interpretation of gender in the change from 12 to 13.

I remember being so excited for Jodie, but also so scared as to how they were going to handle her characterization as the Doctor. While Moffat did okay with Missy in the end, her original introduction was dripping with stereotypes and changes in personality which in universe boiled down to she's a girl now lol. Because of this I feared the introduction of a hyperfeminine Doctor, reinforcing sexist stereotypes that men and women are fundamentally different in some ineffable way. I feared jokes about boobs and hair, I feared a weak Doctor who had to be saved by male companions, I worried there would be a lack of personality entirely, with Chibnall trying to play it safe and make her just a blank slate. Or that she would be a rehash of an old Doctor but GIRLY with nothing really distinct to her personality beyond that.

I did not at all expect what we got. Even if the writing is in general lower standards than us fans had come to expect, Chibnall's handling of the Doctor's sudden gender change is phenomenal and I will explain why.

Top 13th Doctor gender moments:

It is so obvious that from the Doctor's point of view, she hasn't really changed. She still perceives herself the same way and finds it hard to adjust to a view of herself as a woman and often uses masculine words to describe herself out of habit. She doesn't dislike being a woman! She's just forgetful! Her regeneration is not special because of the gender change, that's just a quirk alongside the other changes every Doctor goes through when they regenerate

The way she still dresses in a distinctly Doctorish way, and leans towards flamboyant but practical masculine outfits like her suit in Spyfall in contrast to Yaz's more feminine presentation in the same situations. (Yaz isn't even that feminine either. But her dresses and blouses compared to the Doctor really stand out.)

I love how the Doctor's gender doesn't change anything about her, only how other's view her. And mostly people still treat her with respect and as an authority figure. I feel like chibnall struck a good balance between not acknowledging the gender change at all vs hitting us over the head with it. There are episodes where her being a woman is detrimental and she expresses annoyance, there are others where it causes confusion, and there's some where it opens her up to new experiences like the wedding party with Yaz's nan! But ultimately it doesn't make a difference in the Doctor's day to day

The introduction of the Fugitive Doctor as a previous regeneration but also as a female doctor with a distinct personality from thirteen! We got a multi doctor story with two badass female doctors years before it should have been possible! I hate the timeless child thing but the fugitive doctor is my beloved. Props to Chibnall for seeing the hate and people going oooh but the doctor has always been a man and responding by going nope she's been a woman before and a black woman too fuck you. actually iconic. #Season6B btw. if you even care

Idk i just think Jodie really captured the Doctor really well, while still having a unique twist on it and her portrayal really reads as a genderfluid alien in a feminine body. Like oh cool this is new but ultimately it dont matter she still the doctor

#doctor who #thirteenth doctor #yasmin khan #fugitive doctor #thinkin bout doctor who and gender #jodie whittaker

[jakedoxxenvasion]

dr.lee

fellow doctor heeseung! × resident doctor y/n!

warning: MDNI!, unprotective sex (whops) kissing and more?

not in a million years you would think you will do something like this, with someone that you adore so much.. someone that you look up to as a senior to you, someone that you met everyday and formally call him by his surname instead of..

"h-heeseung!"your sinful lips moaning for his name, "sshhh, you want them to hear you?"immediately you bite your bottom lips once getting that warn from him, he peck your lips and smile. "didn't expect you to be so obedient to me, love. such a good girl."you humming to everything he said to you, trying to not moan out his name.

you know what you did is wrong because you're just a doctor resident and he's your senior doctor, it's totally wrong but you couldn't stop him. not that you can't but you don't want to, having him pounding his cock so deep into you in the small store room in the middle of your night shift, the clock strike 3 in the morning as much as you remember when he call for you to help him earlier.

it's all start with you helping him with sorting out papers, and files of patients records and ending up finding yourself here in this room with him doing things that you could ever imagine in your right mind. "just a little more, does it hurt you, hm?"you shake your head, no he doesn't hurt you but the pleasure is too much.

heeseung smile when he kiss your lips, hips still rutting into you. he could feel your wall hugging him tight at each thrust he make, sending him over the cloud but he know that he cannot be loud. "s-shit, you're so fucking tight, love."he let out a low groan, watching how you try to control your own voices and somehow he like the way you did.

liking the idea of doing this in secret, liking the idea that there's an outside world that you try so hard it keep it out, not wanting people to find out about what the two of you did in this room. "fuck- heeseung i'm close ah-"he shut you up with his lips, kissing you so deep, cock still pounding in and out of you.

your fingers tangle with his hair, he push you against the wall, "cum for me, love."he whisper those once he pull away from the kiss, like a cue you could feel the feeling at the pit of your stomach rushing down. heeseung smile, letting you rode out all your orgasm with you weakly leaning on his shoulder, doesn't have much energy left in you.

he thrust into you once.. twice then he pull out from you, only to shot his loads on your stomach. "oh fuck."you watch those thick white liquid spurting out from his cock, messily on your skin. somehow, heeseung has those proud smile after everything that he had done with you. you look at him and he smirk, he peck your lips before he slowly put you down to make you stand on the ground.

"so fucking perfect, love."he caressed your cheek softly then continue to kiss your lips again. when he pull away, he stare into your eyes, "doctor.."your soft voice call for him, which make him chuckle. "that was not what you called me earlier, ms.y/n."your cheeks immediately turn red as his remarks, he continue to caressed your cheek as he stare into your eyes.

but then heeseung take a few step back, you watch him grab a box of tissue at the top shelf behind him and he rip it open before he help you clean up and get dress again. "so.. do i pretend like nothing happen earlier or-" "unless you want more, you can always come to my office, love."he interrupt your words then wink at you, blush immediately creep up your face.

you slowly nod your head, he pat your head then he open the door after grabbing a random file on the shelf. "later, make sure you keep everything in place again, okay? ms.y/n."he said, know it very well he did that on purpose, you follow him from behind after you fix your white coat. "sure, dr."

heeseung turn to look at you just to give you a wink before he walk away.

should i write a longer version of this? cause i kind of like the plot lol

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen heeseung #enhypen smut #enhypen heeseung smut #lee heeseung #lee heesung x reader #heeseung

[foone]

Idea: interspecies TF but it doesn't go like a werewolf movie, over in seconds or minutes, but like HRT.

Every morning you look in the mirror, pulling your mouth open to get a better look at your canines. Is it just you or are they a little bigger?

You turn your head sideways, seeing how much your face is stretching into a snout. You occasionally catch yourself looking at your hands, seeing how the skin on your palm is hardening into pawpads, how the tips of your fingers are stretching, your nails coalescing into claw tips.

You spend a while looking online at r/TFtimelines/, looking at other furries with a mix of envy and lust. God, you hope someday you can look a tenth as monstrous as them. You look up doctors in your area to see their ratings for bottom surgery (which is getting a tail), and wonder if your insurance will cover it.

It's not all physical changes, of course. You're noticing how your emotional state is shifting. You're staring at spreadsheets at work, in need of another coffee, and you have that thought again of just running into the woods. Your clothes seem tight and restrictive on you, and you know it had nothing to do with the fact you've gained 5 inches in height over the last year. It's more to do with feeling you shouldn't need to wear this business formal nonsense, you should be covered in fur and hanging out in the lonely woods, not in a crowded office moving numbers around for your boss.

Ugh, your fucking boss. It's getting harder to not listen to him talk without inadvertently thinking about what it'd feel like to rip his throat open with your teeth, and leave him as a warning for the others not to mess with the wolf...

Not that you'd ever do such a thing, of course... But those pills you're taking every morning have been waking up millions of years of instinct that are saying "this supposed leader is weak and ineffectual and doesn't deserve your loyalty. Kill him. Take his place, or his poor leadership will get you all killed when the winter comes."

You sigh, and keep typing on the keyboard. One day you'll come out to these anthrotypicals. You'll be recognized for the mighty wolf you are, and they'll stop treating you as just another human.

You make a note to email HR about that "I'm a human" CAPTCHA they put on the company's website. They don't know, of course, but they should be more considerate. Not everyone wearing a pantsuit and operating a boring Dell computer is a human, after all.

You glance at the clock and think about getting dinner once this slog is over. You'd been a vegetarian before starting your transition, but there's a new steakhouse that's opened up on your walk home, and every time you walk past it, you keep thinking about biting into a nice steak... Rare, of course. It's probably just the smell. You can smell so much better now, and from what you've heard from others, it's only going to get better.

Well, better is relative. You've learned the downside of having a better sense of smell. It's sometimes unbearable walking to work on Wednesday, when everyone has their bins out. So much rotting food and spoiled milk and bacteria festering in all those cans waiting for the trash trucks.

It gets better once you're in the office. The AC kills a lot of the smell. But now you can tell exactly how many days it has been since your coworkers have showered, and you'll never look at Simon from accounting the same way again.

And it was a bit of a faux pas (or should that be a faux paw, ha!) when you congratulated Cindy on the baby she was expecting... She hadn't told you yet. She hadn't told anyone yet, other than her spouse, but you forgot that it wasn't as obvious to everyone else.

You don't know how that can be overlooked (oversmelled?). The hormones are all different. Was there really a time in your life when you couldn't smell this? Huh. You can't remember anymore. This is your new normal. You've come farther than you think. You should have taken more pictures at the start, so you could compare them to now, but it was so hard to look at yourself then. You looked so... Human. Ugh.

It's getting easier to look at yourself in the mirror in the morning. Your fur is coming in. Your body is changing in so many ways. You're finally starting to look like you.

#my creations #Trans #TF #Furry

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter three ⭐︎ So if you need to be mean, be mean to me

Warnings: angst angst angst! mean!Steve, bitchy!reader, slight allusions to unrequited love, mentions of Vecna and the upside down, argument, Steve being a dick to reader. and before anyone comes at me with the 'but your Steve is so ooc! he isn't mean anymore' this is a fic, this is enemies to lovers, you see the mean!Steve warnings, you know what you're getting yourself into.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Steve had buried his past self, King Steve was dead, but all it took was a little push for him to make a small appearance again, to rain nothing but chaos upon his already weak 'friendship' with you. You pushed him, and you did it a little too hard.

Word count: 5k+

Author's note: Big big biggest shoutout to my bestie @hellfire--cult for helping me and writing those evil evil lines, you're the best

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next chapter

♡

He regrets waking up that day.

He regrets saying yes to Robin and the kids to hang out.

He regrets picking up Max’s phone call. 

If he wouldn’t have done any of these things, he wouldn’t be where he is right now. 

Parked in front of your house so he can drive you both to Robin’s. 

It’s been a week since the day at his place, a week since you had stormed out of his house, a week since he had last seen you. It almost feels weird. He can’t even remember the last time he had gone without seeing you this long. If you’re not hanging out with the group, he sees you going into the coffee shop across from Family Video every afternoon. Sometimes you even run into each other at Bradley’s Big Buy, but since last Saturday, he hasn’t seen you anywhere – it’s almost as though you had disappeared. Maybe he would have worried if it wasn’t for Max and El gushing over your shopping trip to Indianapolis the other day, he panicked when they told him that, thinking that you were driving again when you still weren’t allowed to, but El had calmed him down, telling him that you used the train. 

With a sigh, he gets out of the car. He runs his fingers through his hair out of nervousness. He rings the doorbell and takes a step back, staring at the wooden door. 

How will you even react to seeing him here? 

You’re surely expecting Eddie, not him. 

The door opens after a moment, revealing you on the other side, looking as beautiful as always – unfortunately. You’re wearing a white top, the soft pink stripes matching the color of your glossy lips, your skin looking soft and glowy as the sun shines into your house, the fading bruises are almost all gone, finally. The scent of your perfume, something sweet and flowery invades his space, and he can’t help but inhale it, feeling warmth blooming in his chest. 

He takes you in, the way you look beneath the sun rays, the way your dainty necklace lies so prettily on your chest, the way your lashes touch your skin as you blink at him. 

The smile on your face instantly fades away when you lock eyes with him, the usual grumpy frown takes over instead, that pulls him back into reality. 

“The fuck are you doing here?” 

Yeah, you’re only pretty and cute when you keep your mouth shut. 

He clenches his jaw, trying not to show how annoyed he is already. 

“Picking you up.” 

You furrow your brows at him, “what? Where’s Eddie?” 

“He forgot about his Doctor’s appointment, he had to rush out. Max called me and told me to pick you up.” 

“Oh,” you nod and you stare at him for a long moment before a smile appears on your face, “she told you, huh?” 

Caught off guard by the smile on your face, he stays quiet, only nodding at your words. 

You chuckle to yourself, turning away from him to pick up your jacket and your keys. Surprising him by not fighting him, you step out of the house and close the door. You look him up and down, eying the keys in his hand. 

“Can I drive your car?” You ask, tilting your head, “I promise I’ll take better care of it than you ever could.”

He snorts at your words, looking at you with an expression that almost makes you laugh. 

“With that head injury? Yeah, not a fucking chance, Blondie.” 

Rolling your eyes, you brush past him, already making your way over to his car. 

“It’s been like what… a month? I’m all healed, I’m feeling peachy.” 

“A month and you still get dizzy and don’t even lie about it.”

Once again, you keep quiet instead of throwing a smartass remark back, it makes him furrow his brows at you. Instead of opening the door, he leans his elbow on the roof of his car, looking over at you curiously. 

You open the door and put one foot in before you halt when you notice him staring. 

“What?” 

“Did you fall on your head or something?” 

You shake your head at him, scrunching your face up. 

“You’re not fighting me, are you feeling okay?” He smirks. 

Scoffing at his words, you flip him off before you get into the car without a single word. 

He taps his fingers against the car, looking up at the blue sky with a smirk that turns into a content smile, he thought the bickering would start the moment you opened that door. Maybe today won’t be so bad. 

Though when he gets into his car and he glances at you, you’re already staring back at him with that certain look in your eyes, the one that tells him everything he needs to know. Your eyes are glimmering with that smugness, the one that’s always there when you’re about to tease him with something that you know will annoy him. 

“Is Nancy gonna be there?” 

“Huh?”

You blink at him innocently as you fasten your seatbelt. 

“Nancy, is she gonna be there? You know, since you only get the chance to be around her during these group hangouts,” you smirk. 

He squints his eyes at you, biting back the bitter words that he was about to throw at you. He turns away and starts the car. 

He backs out of your driveway and without a single word, he starts driving. 

“Must suck being in love with someone who doesn’t feel the same, huh?” 

He stares at the road ahead, blankly. He could swear there was a hint of hurt in your voice. He doesn’t look at you, despite feeling your eyes on him, he doesn’t look and only grips the steering wheel tighter.

“But what would I know,” you snort and he hears you leaning back in the seat, the leather squeaking a little as you try to get more comfortable. 

Yeah, what would you know? He thinks. 

You’re cold and you’re mean – he is certain that there’s not a single trace of love in your heart. How you care that deeply for Max will always remain a mystery to him. 

“Are you a grandpa or something or where is the music!?” 

“You make enough music for us.”

He turns to you for a brief second, to see you scrunching up your face at him, shaking your head in confusion. 

“What’s that supposed to mean, Lego head?” 

“Your yapping and whining is enough for me.”

“Oh, so you’re saying my yapping and whining is music to your ears?” You smirk. “Just say that you love hearing my voice.”

“Shut up,” he murmurs, glaring at you. He clenches his jaw and flicks the button to turn on the music. 

Material Girl by Madonna starts playing and he instantly feels his heart dropping, his cheeks start glowing red – at least, that’s what it feels like. He grows flustered underneath your stare the moment you start laughing. 

“Oh wow, I knew you were a girly girl, Harrington.”

He changes the song, calming down when some Duran Duran song starts playing instead, but you are still laughing, and he can only groan in annoyance, pointing his finger at you, “shut up, Blondie.”

Your face only grows more amused, and this is where the teasing begins and the drive to Robin’s house becomes a torture for him and he practically starts counting down the second till he can finally get out of the car that he usually loves being in. 

He bites his tongue, not saying a single word while you yap away the way you always do. 

What a fool he was for thinking that this day could have been good, you manage to ruin every day of his. 

He can only stay quiet for so long. 

“Do you ever shut up or do I have to make you!?” 

That seems to shut you up. At least, for a moment. When he glances at you with angry eyes, he notices the smug look on your face that still didn’t stray away from you, not even after his words. 

“And how would you do that?” You ask, mockingly. 

He stares at your lips for a moment, clenching his jaw and gripping the gear stick tightly. He looks away as he turns left, pulling up in Robin’s driveway, he parks the car. 

“I have an idea or two,” he mumbles and gets out before you can question him. He almost thinks that his words have stunned you, when you take a moment longer to get out of the car, but when you do and your eyes meet his, you smirk again. 

He starts walking backwards, taking in the sight of you as you walk towards him. Your jeans hug your hips and your legs so perfectly that he begins to hate them. He almost feels ashamed for wanting to see them from the back. His eyes move up to your top, without intending to stare at your cleavage but he does.. and fuck, he hates how attracted his body is to you. 

“So cocky and for what?” You chuckle as you brush past him, not noticing his staring. 

Steve’s cheeks are red, his eyes instantly fall down to your butt when he turns around to follow you onto the porch. You move your hips and he has to clench his jaw.

It’s really a shame that he can’t stand you. 

You ring the doorbell and patiently wait for Robin to open, you don’t spare him a glance, you don’t even turn around to tease him any further, he doesn’t mind it though, it gives him the chance to keep looking at you. Your skin looks soft and he sometimes catches himself wondering what it would feel like to touch you, it’s glowing and he can’t help but ask himself whether it’s because of the body cream that you put on or if it’s just this pretty on it’s own – not that he ever imagines you putting lotion on your body after a shower, definitely not. 

“Oh great, you didn’t kill each other!” Robin’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts and he quickly looks away from you, clearing his throat. 

Robin grabs your hand and pulls you into her house, only throwing a glance over her shoulder at him, “come on in Dingus, you know the way.” 

“Yeah,” he mumbles as he walks in, watching the way his best friend pays more attention to you than to him. Not only did you nestle your way into his friend group, you had also seemingly nestled your way into Robin’s heart. He watches the friendship between you slowly blossoming and he can’t help but feel jealous of that. 

He stays back in the hallway for a moment, preparing for a long evening with you. 

He hears Robin talking your ear off already, Max and Lucas are in the kitchen too. But no one else is around. Nancy and Jonathan are on a date, he knows that, Jonathan gushed about it to Argyle before he left the other day and Steve couldn’t help but eavesdrop when he heard them talking about Nancy. The other teens are off doing god knows what. So much for the weekly group hangouts. 

He hears your laughter and he can’t help but roll his eyes. It’s not the kind of laugh that he ever gets, no, whenever you laugh with or at him, it’s like you’re mocking him or making fun of him – not that he cares, he does the same to you. It’s your thing. 

But for some reason it bothers him to hear and see you laughing like this with the others. 

You get along with Robin, you get along with Eddie, you get along with the teens – hell, you even get along with Nancy even though you glared daggers at each other that day at skull rock.

With him, you’re either grumpy and rude or you’re just a snappy smug brat – which seems to be the case today. 

Steve walks into the kitchen, putting on a smile to greet Max and Lucas with. 

“Hey,” Max mumbles grumpily, only shooting him a brief and very forced smile before she goes back to her deep conversation with you. 

Another grump, he thinks to himself. It’s not a surprise that the snappy teen likes you so much, you’re both the same person. 

Lucas greets him with a handshake and a friendly smile, something that two of the three girls in this room should learn. 

“Are you coming to my game next friday?” 

“Yeah, of course,” Steve nods. 

“You can bring her,” Lucas wiggles his brows at him, gesturing to you with a wink, “as a date,” he whispers.

Steve scrunches his face up, as though he is disgusted by the thought of it – like he wasn’t just checking you out on the porch. 

“You’re joking, right?” He mumbles as he looks over Lucas’s shoulder, glancing at you. 

“No,” Lucas crosses his arms over his chest, shaking his head, “you are awfully mean to her, which means that you must like her.” 

Steve’s eyes widen and he looks over at you again, in sheer panic, hoping that you didn’t just hear the ridiculous words that have left Lucas’s mouth. You’re too distracted by whatever story Max is telling you though, looking back and forth between her and Robin. 

He looks back at Lucas to see him staring smugly. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Isn’t that what you said to Dustin when he asked you for girls advice?” He snorts, shaking his head once again, “‘the key with girls is acting like you don’t care’” Lucas mocks quietly, chuckling after that. 

Steve sighs, putting his hand on his hip, “he told you that?” 

Lucas leans closer, “he sure did,” he smirks as he turns his head to glance at you before her turns back around, “I remembered it the other day, and it had me thinking–”

“Alright,” Steve interrupts him, he places his hands on his shoulders, “stop that, Sinclair.”

Lucas laughs, eying the flustered look on Steve’s face, who shoots him another glare before he steps away. He clears his throat, looking at the kitchen island where Robin had already prepared all the snacks. 

He grabs two bowls, glancing back at Lucas, “help me carry the snacks over to the living room, man. These ladies are too busy gossiping,” he says, expecting you to turn around and throw a comment back at him, but you don’t. 

Robin squints her eyes, nodding at him, “don’t give us the sass, Dingus.”

Lucas chuckles at her, he walks over to the kitchen island, reaching for the bowl of sour gummies and the M&M’s, “when is Steve ever not sassy?” 

At that, you finally turn to face them, a smirk tugging at your lips, you don’t have to say anything to show him that you agree with Lucas. 

He only rolls his eyes at you, no further words needed as he leaves the kitchen, stepping into the living room with Lucas trailing behind.  

“Wow, you didn’t even say anything to her.”

Steve has to roll his eyes again, the teasing in his voice isn’t very subtle. He opens his mouth to speak when the doorbell rings and Lucas rushes out of the room before he can even move or say anything. 

“Well, look at what the cat dragged in,” Lucas says after opening the front door. 

“Found him on the side of the road.” Steve hears Eddie’s voice. 

“Oh you two are such jokesters. You think I’d miss out on game night?” Dustin’s voice sounds through the hallway. “What are we even playing?” 

Robin replies enthusiastically as she walks into the living room with Dustin by her side and Eddie tagging along, greeting Steve with a grin. 

“Oh boy, the board’s definitely getting flipped today,” Dustin laughs.

Steve raises his brows, “you mean you will flip the board?” 

Dustin tilts his head as he looks at his older friend, his smile turning into a playful frown, “hello to you too, Steve.” 

“Henderson.” 

Dustin claims the loveseat before anyone else can, slumping down with a grin on his face, he reaches for one of the sour gummies in the bowl. 

“What’s wrong? Did your phone date not go so well with your girlfriend?” Steve teases. 

“At least I have a girlfriend,” Dustin winks at him. 

As you walk into the room, Lucas faces Steve again, with a teasing grin, “what do you mean, he’s got one too, she’s right there.” 

Dustin gives him a funny look before he turns around with furrowed eyebrows, confusion flashing in his eyes before they widen and he turns back to look at a very unimpressed Steve. 

“What!? You two are dating?” He shrieks loud enough for you to freeze in your spot. 

Steve closes his eyes, shaking his head at him. 

“Huh?” 

Eddie rolls his eyes at Dustin, “Henderson, I think that Sinclair might have a little too much imagination over there.” 

Lucas only shrugs, still grinning. 

“You’re playing matchmaker with the wrong people,” Robin laughs, looking between you and Steve. 

“Absolutely,” Eddie chuckles, sitting down on the couch next to her. 

“Can we just play the game now?” You ask as both you and Max sit down on the ground in front of the board game that Robin had already put out. 

“Ooh, we’re playing Ludo?” Dustin asks. 

Everyone nods, everyone except for Robin. 

“What?” She chuckles, cupping her cheek as she looks around, “that’s Wahoo.”

“Huh?” You tilt your head at her, “Wahoo?” 

“That’s what the game is called,” Robin says, pointing to the board. 

Steve watches the way you shake your head in confusion, slightly pouting as you stare at her. Fuck… you almost look cute. 

As Eddie reaches for the dice, he throws it up in the air, catching it between two fingers, “this game is called Sorry! my friends,” he smirks, cockily. “We only need four players so who goes first?” 

Lucas, who starts scarving down the snacks, waves a hand at Eddie, “I’ll sit this round out,” he says with a mouthful of chips. 

“Don’t talk with food in your mouth!” Max rolls her eyes at him. 

“Red, Dustin, Robin and Steve go first,” Eddie says. “The master has spoken, now let the games begin,” he says in his deep voice. 

Steve rolls his eyes at him, “this isn’t D&D dude, we don’t need a master.”

“Still.”

“Okay!” Robin claps her hands together, “let’s play!”

And as the game started, everyone laughed, everyone was having fun, everyone was joking around, it was all lighthearted. Dustin was throwing tantrums in his team with Robin, while Eddie snickered. Robin was a loser, and she accepted that she sucked at this game, competing against a bunch of stubborn teens. She was the first to sit out and stop playing. Max and Lucas preferred to stay out after the first few rounds, amused by watching the gameplay. 

And then, Steve and you were outright competing as if it were a championship. Neither of you even noticed that it was only you two left, everyone else stopped playing a while ago, watching this intense competition instead. 

While you took it all with ease, teasing him with a few jabs here and there whenever he was losing against you, Steve took it all a little more seriously. Because the moment he lost against you more than once, the anger in him started rising – not because of the game, but because of the looks you were giving him, those smug and cocky looks, the comments that weren’t even that bad – but everything, everything about you was pissing him off this day. 

Your attitude this morning, your comments, your jabs, your arrogance, you’ve been getting on his nerves from the moment you got into his car. 

And right now, he can feel his chest heaving, burning in anger and frustration. 

His jaw is clenched, his eyes are hurting from the intense glares that you start giving each other. 

Neither of you feel the eyes of the others on you two, the nervous glances, the warning ones because everyone knows what will follow after this. 

You both want to win against the other so desperately and currently, it’s a tie between the two of you. He won three rounds, you won three rounds – this apparently will be the last one, this one will decide who will win this very meaningless, stupid game. 

But Robin can’t take it any longer, she can’t keep watching the two of you getting angrier each passing second, knowing that this round will only lead to another, and both you and Steve could sit here all night, because you are both stubborn brats when it comes to each other – as it seems. 

“Okay!” Robin throws her hands up, snatching the dice from Steve’s hand that he was just about to throw, “can you two stop? It’s a tie, move on!” 

You and Steve look away from one another, raising your heads to look at Robin who glares at the two of you. 

“We’ll finish and then we’re done!” 

Steve groans at your words. 

“No!” Robin shakes her head, “because one will win and the other won’t, and then it’s a fucking mess, so stop playing! You fought interdimensional monsters together, for fucks sake!”

“Right, that doesn’t mean anything.” Steve rolls his eyes before he looks back at you, only to see your face fall. 

He almost feels guilty. You risked your life out there, not only for Max and Lucas but also for him. 

“That doesn’t mean anything!? Well aren’t you fucking grateful, Harrington.”

“Everyone fought, not just you, don’t think you’re all high and mighty,” he mumbles through the anger that he is still feeling.

A part of him is begging to just move on and keep his mouth shut, but he is frustrated, not just because of the game, but because of you, every small comment from you reminds him of how much he can’t stand you. 

“Hey, hey, hey, break it up,” Eddie says as he gets up from the couch, raising his hands up as he takes in the hurt but angry look in your eyes. 

You shake your head, “no, no, let him keep going! I want to hear what this bastard with his hero complex has to say to me.” 

Eddie can see the way Steve is fuming, the way the anger in his eyes gets stronger and stronger. He stands up, moving closer to you as you get up as well. 

“You fought with us once. Once! And you think that makes you equal to us!? You have no idea what we all went through, you have no idea the people we lost along the way, you know nothing!” He snaps at you, ignoring the way you draw back as your eyes fill with something he can’t read. 

Max straightens up in her seat, already reaching for her crutches as her eyes widen, seeing the way your lips twitch as blink up at Steve. 

“Steve, stop!” 

If he wasn’t so angry, he would have heard the fear in Max’s voice, something that normally would’ve made him draw back in an instant. 

You glance at her, shaking your head, yet again. “No, Max, it’s okay.” You turn back to face him, looking into his eyes coldly – that’s the only look he knows, that’s the one he cannot stand. “What does Steve Harrington know about loss!?” 

Steve feels his gut twisting, he clenches his jaw but doesn’t answer your question, he keeps staring at you. 

“What? Mom and Dad left you the whole house to yourself, and you consider that loss!?” You frown, lifting your arm, you gesture to the people in the room. “I see Robin alive, I see Eddie alive, I see all of the kids alive, so who exactly did you fucking lose, Harrington?” 

Behind the anger and the emptiness in your eyes, is sadness and pain, something he can’t see through the haze that he is in, right now. All he sees is something, someone he hates, someone who acts like she knows everything, someone who does nothing but bring chaos and anger into his heart and into a friends group that is so sacred to him. 

He never felt this angry before, not even when he found Nancy with Jonathan, not even when she cheated on him and left, not during a single fight with his dad, nothing had ever made him feel such rage. 

“You are so fucking horrible!” He snaps at you, not caring about anything, right this second. Everyone in the room disappears, Dustin, Max and Lucas are no longer there, and neither are Robin and Eddie, it’s just you and him now. “I hate the fucking day we ran into you at Skull Rock! You are the most despicable and cold hearted bitch I’ve ever met! I would be surprised if you ever loved somebody!” 

He can’t see the shock or the pain that nestles into your features. 

He doesn’t even hear the gasps from the others in the room. 

“Steve!” Max yells, reminding him of the fact that she is there, that everyone else is here too. 

The girl almost falls over when she jumps up. Lucas stands up as well, steadying her before she can fall. They both look at you, both of them see the hurt in your eyes, the way you helplessly stare back at the guy that you risked your life for. 

Robin and Eddie stare at him in disbelief, not knowing the Steve that they are looking at, right now. 

All that Steve can see is red though. 

“No, Mayfield, let me fucking finish because she needs to understand how terrible she is.” He practically spits in your face, not tearing his eyes away from yours, at all. “I-I mean, don’t you ever ask yourself why you don’t have anyone? Why no one bothers to stick around because I’d be really surprised if someone did – even more, I would be surprised if anyone ever loved you at all. You’re not someone easy to fucking love, Blondie. Trust me on that.” 

And the moment those words fall from his lips, the room falls silent, dead silent. His heart stops racing and his skin runs cold. Suddenly, he is brought back into the room, the haze fleeting away more and more and he can now see clear again. 

And as he looks at you, really looks at you, his heart drops to his stomach and every trace of anger is gone, replaced by a guilt he had never felt before. 

Your eyes are filled with tears as you stare at him with nothing but pain, not a single trace of coldness in them, not a single trace of anger or indifference or even hate for the man in front of you. All he can see is pain, pain, pain.. Your tears are welling up more and more, threatening to spill down your cheeks. Your throat bobbed up and down, like you are trying to gulp down the ball of nerves and sobs threaten to fall from your lips. 

For a split second, he can see through you and he sees something there never was before – something that tells him that you would let him do this, until he’d get enough of hurting you, that you would let him break you, little by little. But, he had enough. 

You look down as your bottom lip starts to tremble. 

As he sees that, Steve feels like the most horrible person on the planet. Worse than his dad, worse than the monsters he had fought, worse than Vecna. 

What had prompted him to throw such awful and vile words at you? 

The guilt that takes over almost feels unbearable and the moment he wants to take back those words, to apologize, you are already gone. 

Lucas calls out to you, but the slamming of the front door is all he gets back. 

Before Steve can even look around the room, his back is slammed against the nearest wall and he is met by the sight of an angry Eddie, his eyes darker than ever, nose flaring as he grips the collars of his polo, pressing him harshly against the wall. 

“I would fucking punch you in the face right now, Harrington. Don’t forget who was the first person to jump into the water to save your ass!” He yells at him, giving him one final push that knocks the breath out of him before Eddie lets go and leaves to go after you. 

Steve looks down, closing his eyes as he takes a deep breath. 

“Steve… what the fuck?” Dustin mumbles, softly, staring at his older friend in disappointment. 

Robin looks around the room, before her eyes lock on Steve, she looks at him in confusion, not understanding where all of this came from. 

“Dingus.. what the hell was that? Why did you–”

“Everyone leave the room.” 

It’s Max’s voice that sounds through the room, awfully calm. So calm that it takes everyone aback. 

Lucas stares at his girlfriend, completely confused. 

All it takes is a single look from her though and he and Dustin scatter out of the room. Dustin pulls Robin along who protests at first but follows when she looks back at Max, who only shakes her head. 

It’s silent for a long minute, and Steve doesn’t know what to feel. 

“That was fucked up, Steve.” Max says. 

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, fighting the tears that threaten to build up. 

Not only did he hurt you, something he never thought was even possible. He also showed his friends a side of him he wanted to keep buried. A side that surely makes them feel less safe around him now. 

“I-I know, I don’t.. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” 

Max purses her lips, looking down at the ground to avoid eye contact. 

“She may not have been with us from the start, hell, I wasn’t either. It doesn’t mean that she didn’t experience it just the same. She may not have fought monsters, Steve. But the monsters have gotten to her without her knowing about them.” 

You fought monsters, you fought the bats off of him. 

He snaps his head up, staring at her with a frown on his face.  

“Max I–”

The redhead shakes her head, anger and disappointment still on her face. 

“I’m not the one you have to apologize to. I will not tell you her story, I’m not allowed to do that. But you are wrong, you are terribly wrong about everything you just said about her.” 

She reaches for her crutches, giving him one final look before she leaves the room. 

He stares at the ground with a gnawing feeling in his chest, hating himself more and more as the seconds go by. 

The look you gave him will haunt him for the rest of his life. 

How could he ruin everything in the span of a few minutes? 

How could he not see the hurt in your eyes after only the first words that he threw at you? 

How could he not see the vulnerable side of you? 

How was he so blinded by the act you had put on? 

He judged a book by its cover, just like King Steve had done in the past. There is no excuse. No fucking excuse for what he had done to you. 

♡

taglist: @prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @livosssblog

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington #stranger things angst

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

what the fuck is up with the doctor’s age though. i dont mean like the what is their age that debate’s been had and i think it’s kinda boring but i mean like. tegan calls 13 young. and 1 says to 12 “i thought i’d get younger” and 12 is like “i AM younger!!” and sure that one was maybe part of the running joke but like ??? technically no not really?? and did tegan expect the doctor to age alongside her? did she expect a 70 year old doctor? i mean, valid maybe but wasnt she there when 4 regenerated to 5? and like sure maybe a decade, a decade and a half, is not enough to really see on someone especially when they also get a whole different face at the same time but like??? he did get younger?? right??

#im like hgkjgjkgh #im just sorta like why would you bring it up at all #like to the writers im like why. why do we bring it up #i kinda feel the same as when they would like. comment on the doctor's body like when new doctors comment on how they look #they conspicuously did not do that with 13 #very conspicuously #which im good with like lets just not do that anymore #but the age thing confuses me #and yes i did just look up a bunch of dw actors birthdays and did a bunch of mental math #IS that a bit weird? MAYBE #maybe so #but why the fuck is 13 young #i also feel like it's been commented on with her before but i dont remember when so maybe im mistaken #maybe it was ME who wrote about it in a fic where yaz was like so how long was prison and 13 was like. decades #and yaz is like you look the same and 13 says so do you #which is a nice scene but BESIDE THE POINT #i guess it's just that maybe comapnions expect the doctor to age at the same time as them #even if they know it's not true they just expect it intuitively? #which is fair enough #im probably overthinking it but #it. confuses me. every time ghkghjgjh

[wildestdreamsblog]

Latibule Season 2: II

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which he lost his latibule.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: A late valentine's gift <3 I’m so sorry for taking so long. A lot happened and work is the busiest and and and life.

Masterlist, Latibule 2.I

“Hyung, did you hear me? I said-"

Kim Namjoon sighed from the other line, headache already creeping up his temples from the boatload of information Jimin was dumping on him on the other line. As who he considered to be the only sound and sane one among the seven, Namjoon was accustomed to being the voice of reason, getting the boys out of tight illegal situations, and managing the members. Min Yoongi might be the head of the mafia, but all seven of them were leaders in their own right and fields.

Seokjin was the head of the medical field, Namjoon of the twisted world of law, Jungkook of the technology world.

And this definitely was one of Namjoon’s specialties: stopping the fearless and heart-stricken leader of Bangtan from kidnapping a woman in broad daylight. For fuck’s sake, he wasn’t even against the illegal act itself, but could he just do it when there weren’t eyes watching him?! When the sun wasn’t at its highest?! When he wouldn’t be tomorrow’s headline?!

He ran his hand through his disheveled hair, glaring at the eldest hyung who was chuckling to himself. Seriously, he thought doctors were supposed to have no life and no time to annoy their friends? Why then was the Chief of the hospital barging in his office and lounging on his fancy sofa?

“I’m glad you found this amusing, hyung,” he commented dryly which only made the eldest laughed harder. “This isn’t something to laugh about.”

“What?! We all know something is definitely wrong with Yoongi. This isn’t news to us! This only confirmed our suspicions!”

“You could at least be supportive of what he’s going through right now.”

“Namjoon,” he started when he was finally done laughing, wiping the tears from the side of his eyes. “How do you expect me to be supportive of him right now? He’s on the verge of kidnapping a woman because he thought she looked like her. Does that make sense to you?”

He tilted his head before standing up, his movement elegant as he crossed the room to where Namjoon was sitting behind his desk. He smiled down at him, his hand supporting his weight as he leaned down on his wooden desk. “Dead people don’t exactly come back to life after burning from a fire as immense as that one, do they?” he asked, his tone light yet his eyes held faux curiosity. And at that moment, an air of danger surrounded the office. He could see the coldness that reflected on Jin’s eyes.

Namjoon knew when to back down, especially when Jin was in this mood. It was almost comical how quickly Jin’s emotions could switch, and it was definitely not amusing how bloody the effects could be. He wasn’t exactly the mafia prince for nothing. He, of all people, knew how perceptive and strategic Jin was. Never once did he do anything without a reason. And precisely because of that that it took him a moment before he answered. He lowered his eyes for a second before returning to Jin’s now amused ones. “They don’t, hyung.”

Jin nodded before turning to leave, his hand was in his pocket, his stance relaxed as though nothing was amissed. He had opened the door when he paused as though he remembered something. He twisted his body, his eyes trained on the famous attorney before his lips twisted into an entertained smile. His finger was now resting on his lips.

“Ah, unless they’re actually not dead.”

—-

Min Yoongi was like a man possessed, never leaving any stones unturned as he religiously looked for his angel.

He looked at every single piece of record of the town that the town had, employed several people to look for you, searched every available CCTV to trace any evidence that you existed, that you weren’t merely a figment of his imagination, that you weren’t merely indication of his declining sanity. Yet all roads lead to nothingness.

It was like any leads he got were mere fragments, offering little clarity or direction in the investigation. Likewise, it seemed as if someone was making sure that he’d go nowhere with the little pieces of evidences he was able to gather of your existence.

As days turned to weeks and to months, he was starting to be convinced that you were just his imagination playing tricks on him, that his mind was just too cruel to conjure an image of you, that it was just too sick to think that you came back to him. In this moment of profound longing, when the ache of your absence weighed heavily on his twisted soul, he couldn’t help but ponder about his choices in life.

On some days when he missed you the most, he thought that this must have been his karma for living his fucked-up life brutally. On a day like this when he should have been celebrating your birthday, when you were supposed to turn a year older, when you were supposed to be by his side as you blew your candle, he thought that this must have been his penance, a consequence of the twisted journey he had decided to walk on.

But wasn’t this just too painful?

Wasn’t his punishment too cruel to have the world gave him you, only to wretch you away from his arms?

Wasn’t it too cruel to have loved and lost you?

Yoongi let out a humorless chuckle, the puffs of smoke coming from his lips as he looked at what once was your home. It was your birthday, and tomorrow was your second death anniversary.

How he survived the existence without you, he would never know. He decided that he would never stop looking for you because accepting that you were gone from this fucking earth was not an option. He could feel inside the dead heart of his that yours were still beating. He knew a love as immense as what he felt for you wouldn’t die as easily as that. No.

Min Yoongi would find you.

“Happy birthday, my angel,” he whispered to nothingness, only the moon bore witness to his greeting, the night enveloped him in a solitary embrace. The echoes of his sentiment lingered in the air, hoping that his words reached you where you were.

---

“Happy birthday, eomma,” Jung Hoseok finished the song lightly, clapping the chubby little hands of your son in sync with the tune of the song. Your son was giggling as he bounced him on his lap, looking over his long lashes to Hoseok.

“Careful, the candle’s just in front of you,” he warned before shuffling the cake an inch closer to you. He came home almost an hour ago from his work in the docks with a box of cake in his hands he bought. You could no longer count how many times the three of you moved over the year, the last one being the most suspicious to you when after you came home from the market, he had already packed your bags. Before you knew it, he was already driving away from the town.

You lived in so many places.

You never felt at home in any of them.

It was unfair how you only felt at home when you were in his arms.

You clutched your walking stick on one hand, the other cautiously running your hand on the table to detect the cake’s placement.

“I’m not fully blind yet, Hoseok,” you admonished him teasingly before closing your eyes and wishing with all your heart that your son grew up happy. You wished to the heavens that his fate was kinder to him, that he didn’t have to suffer the way you did. You prayed that his fate was free from the shadows that haunted your own past.

You wished that he could live the life he deserved.

“Eomma,” he called for you, lifting his chubby arms to go to you. Hoseok cooed at him before lifting him to your lap carefully. You felt the warmth of his little arms encircling your neck, tiny lips pressing sweet kisses on your cheeks before erupting into giggles. "Eomma!"

A smile graced your face as you soaked in the pure joy radiating from your beloved child. Leaning in, you planted a loving kiss on the person you now cherished most in the world. His eyes lit up in response, a mirror image of his father's, carrying the same warmth and affection he did when he looked at you.

Hoseok watched the two of you from his seat. It was almost comical how he loathed your son’s father with all his heart, only to love his son with the same intensity. If he couldn’t end that bastard brother of his, if he didn’t have it in him to finish the job and kill you, then he would just take the life Yoongi was supposed to live.

He would never let go of the two of you- not when he found peace in this little family. The only way he would let go of this was if the only person he loved came back to him. But that was impossible, right? After all, Yoongi made sure that she would cease to exist in this world.

Wasn’t this the crueler revenge, he thought. Wasn’t this what Min Yoongi deserved?

It was almost amusing to think how he could have been dead if not for one of his brothers that saved him and you that fateful night. He could have almost missed this little slice of heaven had it not been for his brother, the only one who knew that he was still alive.

---

Almost two years ago, somewhere in a small province of South Korea

You woke up with a start, your heart beating faster as evidenced by the spike in the heart monitor attached on your bruised skin. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor, attached to your bruised skin, echoed in the room, its pace mirroring the accelerated beat of your heart. The sudden awareness left you momentarily disoriented, and the sterile environment around you hinted at the gravity of the situation. As your senses sharpened, you couldn't shake the feeling that the throbbing in your chest was not only from the abrupt awakening but also from the lingering echoes of a disconcerting dream or a painful reality.

Every single thing that happened went back to you.

Every single detail of that night, of the way he smiled so tenderly at you, of the way he softly told you that he would be back, of the way a strange man entered your house and threatened you.

The recollection was vivid, etched into your consciousness like a haunting melody.

You remembered the way Suga’s face became cold the moment he saw that man. You remembered not seeing even a trace of the man you loved.

You remembered the truth and the pain that came with it, and then you remembered thinking it was your end. Beyond it all, beyond all the betrayal, lies and deceit that unfolded, you remembered wishing that he would be fine after all of that like the fool you were.

Wincing, you lifted your fragile hand to your shoulder, feeling a faint pain where the bullet had pierced your skin.

“Don’t move,” a tired voice sounded on your left. Startled, you turned to look at the source, only to find the man who attempted to kill you leaning against the wall, his own arm bandaged, his handsome face colored with faint bruises.

Hoseok didn’t come out of it unscathed, no. He looked so hallow. It was like he was a lost child, like a man that lost his purpose, like he was a shell of what once was a soul.

He must have seen your alarmed expression. He waved his other arm, his jaw clenching from the events that transpired. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

You blinked at him, never trusting a word that came out of his mouth. It would be difficult for you when you saw how he unleashed hell that night.

“I-I,” you swallowed, your dried throat making it harder to speak. “d-don’t believe y-you.”

He watched you for a moment before nodding his head. That was fair, he thought. “How are you feeling? You’ve been unconscious for almost a month.”

What?

“Y-you waited that long to kill me?” you asked, your voice hoarse as you sat down. If he was going to end you, then you wouldn’t take it lying down.

Wordlessly, he crossed the room, lifting the glass of water on your bedside table, the straw turned to you. “Drink.”

You glared at him, distrust and anger in your eyes as you met his emotionless ones.

“I’m not going to kill you.”

You scoffed, turning your head away from him to look at where on earth you could have been. The hospital room was small, the window offering no clue as to your whereabouts. You wondered where Suga could have been.

Did he make it out alive?

Was he hurt?

Was he looking for you?

Did you want him to after what you knew?

“I do draw the line on killing expectant mothers.”

Latibule 2.III

#bts fic #yandere bts #bts yandere #min yoongi fic #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x reader #yandere min yoongi #yoongi fic #mafia min yoongi #bts mafia au #suga x you #suga x reader

[churipu]

★ ─── KILLSWITCH LULLABY . . . ( 01 )

ִ warnings. cursing, toji vs parenting, in a world where toji actually takes care of baby gumi, gumi is at least 8 months old, non! sorcerer au, infant doctor! reader, toji uses the zenin clan name, but baby gumi is a fushiguro (takes after his mother).

note. this song. this song. this song. i've been having thoughts about this song for a while and woahhh, yes. and the "this action will have consequences" trend? broke me.

-> series masterlist.

"megumi, shut up for one second . . ." toji sighs out, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance — he was desperate, practically pleading for the young infant to silence his cries, "'m not fucking good at this shit."

the infant's loud wails resounded throughout the small apartment, and it took toji all his might to not let out a fuse. muttering out strings of curses as he shoves in a good amount of diapers inside a small elephant motive backpack, he throws in a small bottle filled with powdered baby formula along with a metal flask filled with hot water inside.

megumi was eight months old. and like every other parent's nightmare — toji had to be the one to bring the baby to the health clinic to get a vaccine. prior today, toji has tried to search up videos of babies getting their shots; and hell, he was even more nervous than megumi is (and the young baby probably doesn't even realize he's about to get his shot today).

there megumi sat in between his father's chest and the baby carrier in an uncomfortable position, the baby was sliding down slowly and he squirmed in an attempt to bring himself up as soft whines escaped his throat, "megumi, stop moving."

the baby stopped his small legs from kicking and just laid limp, sliding down at every action toji makes. although his whines never subsided, "shh, 'm having a headache right now. stop fussing over the carrier."

megumi had every right to be whining as of now. the eight month old was slowly slipping down the carrier because of how clumsy it was plastered on. he was practically clinging onto dear life.

"'kay, let's go get your shot."

finally, after a lot of unsuccessful attempts from megumi — toji hoisted the boy up his chest, clutching onto the small backpack with his free hand. the male slipped his worn out shoes, heaving out yet another sigh before exiting his apartment.

the sun was up and about. if it were at least a couple of years earlier, toji wouldn't have been awake at this time of the day. hell, he wouldn't have been awake at least until four hours before six pm.

toji's life changed drastically ever since megumi was born. he made stupid choices and paid stupid prices — regrets were felt in the end.

he loathes kids. and was given one, megumi was both: a blessing and a curse to him. one one side, megumi's birth unexpectedly developed a different point of view in life, one toji never really expected to see. but he did, and he's a little glad.

and on the other side, toji's got a life ahead of him. and having children isn't at the top of his fucking list. the male's twenty-seven, and could barely keep himself alive — in other words, he's financially unstable, with a son.

it wasn't even supposed to be like this anyways. nothing went right in his life, just the one time he actually decided to go out for a drink at night; toji made a fragrant mistake of getting too drunk. it never escalates well, considering he was now a single father of a baby boy.

megumi has a mother. of course — toji knew her, he remembered her briefly. the way she came over to his apartment, practically halfway into her second trimester. and they agreed to be in this together despite the fact that they were never in love, megumi was a child made out of lust. not love.

the two agreed that they would share megumi like a divorced partner. toji'd have megumi from mondays to wednesdays, and his mother would have thursdays to sundays; emphasizing on the fact she convinced him to let her have more days with megumi because she "loves" him a lot.

pretty ironic when she never turned up to pick megumi and completely disappeared out of his life, three months after his birth. blocked his number, moved out completely out of her home, and was never seen again.

toji was appalled at the fact she'd make all those efforts when he swore if she never really wanted to do this from the first, he'd be the mother and father that megumi needs.

and so toji became a full single father to megumi.

it was never easy since the beginning, considering how he could barely survive himself alone. and now with an addition to his safe zone, toji was clueless of what to do. he didn't know things about babies, or the fact that it cost that much for a can of baby formula and food.

not to mention the fact he just got fired from his only job a week ago — all because he brought megumi to his shifts, which apparently was a nuisance to the work environment. toji has tried to explain to his boss that he couldn't really afford a babysitter, but reality sucks, and life goes on.

toji hates to admit it. but he's struggling, a lot. he has no friends; no families that he could really rely on. it was just him against the world.

it took him six months to save up for megumi's vaccine. toji still has a bit of money in his account that he could use for at least a month's worth of grocery, that was the happiest news he found out the first time after what seemed like forever.

now he stood in front of an infant health clinic, holding onto megumi's foot with his free hand, whilst his other hand was holding onto megumi's backpack. the male inhales deeply before pushing himself in the clinic, stopping for a bit just a few steps in.

his eyes gazing around the clinic, watching as a few kids at least three to four years of age playing inside the playground section by the corner. and their parents looking after them — toji averted his gaze to the other side of the clinic where some of the parents were just sitting, holding a magazine or their phone, their child by their side.

toji slowly sauntered over to the front desk, "uh . . . i made an appointment for a vaccine shot today," he muttered out, squeezing megumi's foot lightly, the infant letting out noises of distaste at the sensation.

"may i know your name?"

"toji zenin."

the woman behind the desk was silent for a bit, her eyes intently staring at a computer screen, fingers frantically scrolling down the mouse, "ah, right, here you are. please follow me," she finally spoke with a gentle smile, standing up, her arm shoved out towards a direction.

toji followed after her steps, taking every corner of the clinic into his memory. stepping inside an elevator, the two were taken to the third floor — where the same woman guided him into a door, furthest at the hallway.

"ms. l/n has been waiting for your arrival," she informed toji, knocking on the door a couple of times and then pushing it open.

there you sat, behind a desk. brows furrowed in concentration, the lenses of your glasses reflecting what seemed to be an excel sheet.

your head raised up in instinct as your door was pushed open — eyes lighting up when you saw a cute face pop into your vision, pulling your glasses off, you stood up to greet your guests, "ah! you must be baby megumi," you clap your hands in delight.

the woman that brought toji into the very room waved at you, and sent a smile to toji before backing away. shutting the door, "please, have a seat," you direct him to the empty chair across the desk.

toji sat down silently, megumi eyeing you. a stranger in his eyes, "hi, i'm l/n y/n, please feel free to call me by y/n. you must be . . . zenin!" he heard you say.

the male bobbed his head once, "how do we do this? heard it's gonna be painful," you chuckled at his straightforward reply, but nodded.

"babies tend to cry during vaccines, it's completely normal, but some of them are pretty calm about it — depends, honestly. your boy looks like a calm one," toji craned his neck to look down on megumi, who has undoubtedly been silent ever since he stepped into the clinic, "megumi fushiguro, he'll be getting the diphtheria vaccine. you're aware, yes?"

again, all toji gave out was a curt nod.

"before that, i'm gonna need you to fill in on this form — and then we'll get right to the vaccine!" you slipped a paper in his direction.

toji carefully reads the paper up and down, filling every section he could intently. his thumb clicked on the pen's edge and he slipped the paper back your way, "alright, i'm gonna need you to get baby gumi out of the carrier because i'm going to need to weigh him.

he didn't question you and just did what he was told to do, sitting megumi on top of his left thigh as you rolled over with your chair, "may i?" you pointed your finger at megumi.

toji slowly hands the infant your way, and you take him into your arms. moving over to weigh him, chuckling, "he's normal weight, perfectly fine for a vaccine!" you swaddle the infant right back up, handing him back to toji.

"'m going to need you to hold him so he won't move abruptly during the vaccine, yes?" toji blinks, but nodded his head. he held onto megumi legs with one of his hands, and his other hand was circled around megumi's small body — keeping the infant in place.

megumi darts his head around in confusion, a soft incoherent babble escaping his throat followed by a string of drool dripping by the corner of his lips onto toji's hand.

"okay little guy, 'ts gonna be like an ant bite," you grazed megumi's cheek with the back of your index finger; trying to distract him while your dominant hand slowly inched to his small thigh with the vaccine, "but you're gonna be fine, won't you? you're such a calm boy."

at your coo, megumi gave you a void of a smile, his central incisor teeth popping out the slightest bit, "oh, look at that beautiful smile of yours, you'll be a charming boy."

as if he understood your words, megumi's smile broads — the vaccine sinks in a flash beneath his skin, and you rub the place with an alcohol tainted cotton, "good boy, that's not so painful, isn't it?"

toji finally exhaled through his nostrils at how you managed to distract his son whilst sinking in the vaccine. he couldn't even distract megumi in general.

megumi's smile stayed on his face, his doe eyes following your figure, "effects are going to probably kick in a few hours — light fever, loss of appetite, and exhaustion is completely normal prior to a vaccine. and effects usually stays at least a few days, but if baby gumi's effects stays more than a few days, please bring him here again for a check up."

once you end your statement, megumi erupted into a loud wail, his fingers traveling to his mouth, engulfed in thick and stringy saliva. his previous smile is now a big frown, and toji was startled — bouncing his leg gently to soothe megumi down, "i'm pretty sure he's hungry, is his mother accompanying today?"

toji froze, his breath hitched and he shook his head, "she's not around anymore, 'ts just me. and i'm shit at this whole — taking care of a baby thing," he mutters out, slipping his hands underneath megumi's armpits cradling the baby.

"oh . . . i'm so sorry, i shouldn't have said that."

"it's fine," toji replies.

"do you have a baby formula maybe?" your question immediately brought light to toji, he nodded — his eyes averted to the small backpack lying down on your desk, "there? i'll help you with it."

the male sighs out in relief of the helping hand, trying to sush megumi's loud cries. but you didn't seem to mind, you've dealt with a lot worse than this. hearing babies cry was the least normal thing in your job as an infant doctor.

"here," you handed the complete baby formula after mixing the powder with hot water, shaking the bottle to mix up everything thoroughly.

toji thanked you with his eyebrows, latching the pacifier edge to megumi's mouth, immediately shutting the baby up as he sucked on the white colored liquid, "how'd you know he's hungry . . ?" he questioned, trying to take notes.

"usually when babies cry because of hunger, they have a rooting reflex — like for example, they try to face where your chest is. sucking their fingers is also one of the hints, which baby gumi just did," you explained patiently, "when babies cry because of exhaustion, usually there'd be subtle hints; yawning and decrease of response, or even rubbing their eyes."

toji was silent, listening to you, "and if they need their diapers changed, usually they'd show signs of discomfort, like tugging on their clothing or even squirming around."

your explanation was simple and easy to understand, he'd manage to process your words with ease unlike the times he'd try to look up answers from the internet. which obviously never ends well as they give out all the answers toji probably didn't need.

" . . . thanks, i needed that."

you chuckle, "no problem, glad to be of help, zenin."

megumi blew off the bottle from his mouth once he felt his stomach bloat from milk, now a small content smile on his face. toji sighs out in relief, holding the bottle aside, "must be tough, huh? takes a lot of courage to be single father, you know?"

the male peers up, silent.

you shot him with a small smile, you've had a fair share of meetings with single parents. and they never cease to amaze you.

"yeah, i guess. he's my son though, made some stupid choices some time ago, and now he's stuck with me," toji mutters out, poking the baby's head with his finger.

you chuckled out, "everyone makes stupid choices — 'ts fine, you're trying your best to give him a life, aren't you? go easy on yourself, it's your first time being a father."

toji shakes his head, a ghost of a smile gracing his lips, "can i pay for his vaccine now?"

oh, right.

you walked back behind your desk, "a diphtheria vaccine is 8,800 yen (approx $59) including tax. here's the bill."

toji took out his wallet, sliding a card out of the holder, handing it to you, "here, charge it there," the payment was a success and you gave his card back, "thanks."

you nodded at him, "you're welcome, remember — if his side effects stay more than a few days. a couple at most, come by and have baby gumi checked up."

"right, noted. thanks."

waving at megumi as he flailed his little arms around, you watch as the father and son disappeared behind the door.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

#KILLSWITCH LULLABY. #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #fluff #toji #fushiguro toji #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you #toji oneshot #toji series #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro series #toji fushiguro x you

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

hi, could you mayhaps, possibly, do a vox x sick reader? Genderneatral or fem is fine! Like- how would he take care of the reader and what not? Feel free to not do this request, please remember to take breaks and drink water! ^^

A/N: After watching the first four episodes, I have a growing love for Vox, but I’ll always be team Alastor. Regardless, I love this idea with him. I don’t write for Vox often so I hope this was okay!!

Warnings: mentions of death, violence and drugs

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!

Sickness and Health

Vox is a very caring lover. That being said, he also hates dealing with you when you’re sick. Don’t get him wrong, of course he wants you to get better. But managing the other V’s and also having to control the city’s technology and news segments, he’s a bit stressed

Regardless, he makes sure you’re taken care of before he runs off to do his errands

He has the best nurses hell can offer, gives them strict orders to not leave your side and to give you whatever you want

He’ll check in a lot, despite saying he had ‘free time’ to check up on you

“So you have free time every thirty minutes.”

“Pft, it hasn’t been thirty minutes.”

He’ll interrupt your scrolling through whatever social media app you’re on just to talk to you

“Can you fucking believe Val? Piece of shit, trying to ruin our image for one of his whores.” Vox complains, and you just snicker, nose stuffy.

“Well he is your colleague, shouldn’t you have more control over that?” You tease. Vox rolls his eyes and side eyes you from his chair.

“You’re lucky you’re sick or I would’ve given you a shitty reply.” He scoffs, and you just snicker before hanging up.

When he comes back from work he’ll have the staff stand while he asks you how each of them did throughout the day, and if one fails to meet his expectations, or you had to wait a little too long to get some tea you wanted, they’re getting shot right then and there

“I can’t keep them around if they don’t do well enough doll.” Vox explains if you ever get upset with him for it. He never kills off a staff member you like, like your personal nurse, Barbra. She’s so sweet and you always have nothing but good things to say about her, so she’s the longest nurse you’ve ever had.

If he ever feels like you’re too sick to be treated by your regular staff, he calls the best of the best doctors and sits with you all day while they examine and test you. Like if you get a really bad fever, and it just is too out of control.

Vox will never to go Val for medication for you. Val is extremely jealous of you, and Vox doesn’t trust him to not give you the wrong drug on purpose.

“I could always help them feel better you know~” Val would say if he ever heard Vox stressed about your health

“Yeah fucking right.” Vox would say back. Val would just scoff and throw his glass at a wall.

“I’ll kill their whole god damn family!”

It’s safe to say you keep your distance from Val…

#hellaverse #vox x reader #Hazbin hotel vox #Hazbin hotel headcannons #helluva boss vox #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin demon #hazbin vox #hazbin valentino #hazbin hotel valentino

[noahsresources]

more cringy dirty & flirty pick-up lines sentence starters

this is extremely self-indulgent, don't mind me lmfao. feel free to use these for whatever you want and change any details that need to be.

❝ you're so hot, my zipper is falling for you. ❞ ❝ i love my bed, but i'd rather be in yours. ❞ ❝ nice outfit. it'd look even better if it were on my bedroom floor. ❞ ❝ roses are red, violets are fine. you be the six, and i'll be the nine. ❞ ❝ do you have any room for an extra tongue in your mouth? ❞ ❝ if you're feeling down, i can feel you up. ❞ ❝ my ideal body weight is yours on mine. ❞ ❝ your belt looks really tight. can i loosen it for you? ❞ ❝ there are 206 bones in your body. think you can handle another one? ❞ ❝ let's play carpenter so i can nail you. ❞ ❝ i'd tell you a joke about my dick, but ... it's too long. ❞ ❝ hey, i might be wasted, but the condom in my pocket doesn't have to be. ❞ ❝ i may not go down in history, but i'll go down on you. ❞ ❝ you must be a chicken farmer because you know exactly how to raise my cock. ❞ ❝ sorry, what's your name again? i want to get it right when i shout it later. ❞ ❝ you must be an elevator because i want to go up and down on you all day. ❞ ❝ i'd love to kiss those beautiful, luscious lips. and the ones on your face. ❞ ❝ if you were a toe, i'd bang you on every wall, table, and chair in this bar. ❞ ❝ sit on my lap, and let's talk about the first thing that pops up. ❞ ❝ do you work for UPS? 'cause you've got a fantastic package. ❞ ❝ want to play a game? i'll be the squirrel, you be the tree, and i'll bust a nut in your hole. ❞ ❝ your legs are like an oreo cookie. i wanna split them and eat all the good stuff in the middle. ❞ ❝ i bet i can touch your belly button ... from the inside. ❞ ❝ how do you feel about doing some math in the bedroom? all you need to do is add me, subtract your clothes, divide your legs, and we can multiply. ❞ ❝ remember my name, because you'll be screaming it later. ❞ ❝ my doctor told me i have a vitamin d deficiency. wanna go back to my place and save me? ❞ ❝ if i flip a coin, what are my chances of getting head? ❞ ❝ my dick's been feeling a little dead lately. wanna give it some mouth-to-mouth? ❞ ❝ i'm no weather man, but you can expect more than a few inches tonight. ❞ ❝ is your name medusa? because the moment you look at me, i get rock hard. ❞ ❝ can you tell me what time your legs open, please? ❞ ❝ are you a rubix cube? because the more i play with you the harder you get. ❞ ❝ you look too god for a pickup line, so let's cut to the chase — wanna fuck? ❞

#rp ask memes #rp ask meme #rp memes #rp starters #rp starter #ask meme #ask memes #flirty prompts #flirty memes #crack prompts #crack memes #smut prompts #smut memes #cheesy prompts #cheesy memes #romance #silly #smut #memes #mine

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 22

part 1 | part 21 | ao3

“…Go ahead,” he relents with a heavy sigh.

He turns the radio back on for background noise, and Robin launches herself into a breathless recap of every minute detail she’s ever learned about Eddie Munson. Genuinely impressive how quickly the words come out; Steve thinks that if her dream of becoming a linguistics researcher ever falls through, she’s got a bright future ahead of her as one of those speedreaders who rattle off the fine print at the end of pharmaceutical ads.

Warning: Discussion of Eddie Munson may cause nausea, heartburn, palpitations, sweaty armpits, and an inconveniently timed half-chub any time you use a pocket knife. Talk to your doctor to see if Discussion of Eddie Munson is right for you!

“Which brings us to tonight,” she’s saying when he zones back in. “Let’s examine the facts, shall we?”

“Must we?”

“Yes, we must.”

She makes a loose fist, lifting her pointer finger with an aggressive flourish to kick off her ‘list of reasons Eddie has a big, fat crush on you.’ “Fact number one: he was conveniently wearing a super nice outfit.”

“He said he ran out of laundry.”

“And we’re buying that?” she scoffs. Her middle finger springs up to join the first one. “Two: he was so disgustingly up in your personal space. Like, you really should have seen it; it was—”

Mwah. Mwah mwah mwah. “Yeah, I don’t need another demonstration.”

“Three” —there goes her ring finger— “he came to a movie rental store that you just so happen to work at and then left without renting a movie.”

“Because you did something to spook him!”

“Which brings me to my fourth and final point.” Her pinky lifts up to join the team, fingers spread wide like a paper fan, and she telescopes her arm to shove them back and forth under his nose until he goes a little cross-eyed and bitches about her distracting the driver.

“Cut it out! You want me to drive us into someone’s trash cans?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Yeah, well I’m sending you the invoice when it scratches up the paint.”

She retreats to her side of the car, curling her back against the door and repeating, “My fourth and final point: I think he thinks we’re dating.”

“And? Everyone thinks we’re dating.”

“No, everyone wants us to be secretly dating,” she corrects. “But I’m pretty sure Eddie actually thinks I’m your girlfriend. You remember last week when you dropped me off at school?”

He does. Eddie had actually been there early for once; had been sitting on a bench out by the soccer fields, looking surly and half-asleep while he sucked down a cigarette. Hair all messed up by the wind. Looked kind of dangerous. Wild.

“He was, like, fully glaring at me when I walked into school that morning, and then he was super rude to me in band. Which, at the time, I was like, ‘oh, well I guess that’s just Eddie no one can ever tell what his mood’s gonna be like from day to day,’ but noo-o-ow…”

She starts squirming in her seat again, excitement overflowing as she finally cracks the case. “Now it all makes sense! Oh, my god! He totally hates me because he thinks we’re dating, and I’ll bet you anything he either didn’t know we work together or didn’t expect me to be there tonight and he totally, one hundred percent was there to flirt with you because he’s in lo—”

“Okay, Detective,” he cuts her off, because the tips of his ears are burning, and he doesn’t think he can handle her saying the L word out loud right now. “You’ve made your point, thank you.”

“Tell me I’m right.”

“Uh, no.”

“Come on.” She jabs at his side. “Tell me I’m right tell me I’m right tell me I’m—”

“—A fucking menace? Gladly.”

“Translation: I’m right and you’re mad about it,” she smirks, victorious.

Steve knocks his forehead against the wheel as he pulls up to her curb. “Why do I drive you places?”

“Because you love me." She flips her visor down to freshen up her lip balm, mumbling around the chapstick, "I’m adding Surly Best Friendlish to my list of fluencies; I think it'll really make my college applications pop."

"Yuh huh," Steve grumbles. The thought of Robin leaving for college always sits in his gut like raw bread dough — thick and heavy and gross, rising to form a swollen lump in his throat. "Didn't you already submit all of those?"

"Yes, I diiiid," she sings, shimmying her shoulders with pride. "Duke's gonna say yes, I just know it. Picture it with me: Robin L. Buckley," she gestures to an imagined marquee somewhere just beyond the windshield, "class of 1990."

Steve swallows the urge to be a sulky dick about it. "They'd be lucky to have you," he says quietly.

"Nope. No no, none of that. No moping." She tugs at his arm; links their elbows together. "You're not allowed to mope when we have a party to get ready for."

"No, you have a party to get ready for. I'm going home."

"Steeeve-uh!" Holy shit. He just had to be soulmates with the whiniest lesbian in a 500 mile radius, didn't he? "Come to the bonfire party with me!"

"Yeah, that's a no."

“It’ll be fun!"

It most certainly will not be. "You really want me to go freeze my ass off in the woods all night while a bunch of former classmates talk shit about me the second they think I'm out of earshot?" He's been to enough of his parents' 'networking events' over the years to know exactly how that'll go. A full night of subtly closed-off body language, smirking whispers and judgmental glances that dart away as soon as he meets them head on. Fuck that. "Thanks, but I'll pass."

He just wants to go home. Feels momentarily sick with the desire to drive himself to Loch Nora.

"What did I say about moping?" Robin asks. She shoves into his space, hugging his arm tighter and deploying her most lethal sad wet kitten face (and Steve doesn't even like cats; this shouldn't fucking work on him.) "Pleeeease," she begs. "Vickie's going to be there, and I could really use a friend."

"So ask a friend!"

"I am, dipshit!"

Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Goddamn this woman. Steve hangs his chin to his chest in defeat, notices the weird stain he got on his shirt during work. "I have some conditions," he concedes.

She throws her arms out wide. "Condition me, baby!"

"First— ew. Okay, I don't like that; don't call me baby." Yeesh, and furthermore, yuck. "First, I'm borrowing one of your shirts, and you're probably never getting it back."

"Understandable,” she nods as she gets out of the car. Steve follows her out, propping his elbows on the roof.

"Secondly,” he continues, “I'm getting very drunk at this stupid party, and you're figuring out how we get home."

She reaches out over the top of the car; gives his hand a quick squeeze when he puts it in hers. "That's three things," she says fondly, "but I can work with that."

—

part 23

tag list part 1 below the cut; comment if you'd like to be added tomorrow (not tagging ageless or under 21s unless we're mutuals or you let me know your age ✌️)

@a-little-unsteddie @ahsokatanoss @alyelf @anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @awolfstudio @bambibiest @bananahoneycomb @bronwenmarie @cheonsazu @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @dauntlessdiva @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @fandomfix8 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @hallucinatedjosten @hellion-child @hiimlevi @honoragreyskull @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @kas-eddie-munson @littlebluejane @marvel-ous-m @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @milklechee @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @munsonslure @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @questionablequeeries @runninriot @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutabed @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #platonic stobin #my writing #my fic

[bones4thecats]

What Are They Like As Parents? - Hazbin Hotel

Type of Writing: Random Idea Characters: Vox, Valentino, Velvette, and Alastor Name: What Are They Like As Parents? Idea-Gifter: Random Thoughts

A/N: This is basically an AU where they married their S/O in real life and had a child with them back then. But, due to issues with birth, their S/O died with the child. So there will be trigger warnings when it comes to that. Also, the type of demon the reader is is listed below! Have a nice rest of your days/nights, my lil bubbles🫧

P.S: The Reader goes through birth, so they're headcanoned as female, but a gender is not fully noted

⚠️ Trigger Warnings: Death, Swearing, Miscarriage, and mentions of Assault ⚠️

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Technological-Demon! Reader ; Medical Technology

📺 Vox and you were very close when alive. Growing up together and eventually falling in love and marrying

📺 Sooner rather than later, you were expecting a baby boy, in which you two decided to name him (M/N). Unfortunately, due to difficulties during birth, Vox had lost not only his unborn child, but he lost his spouse

📺 Ever since that day, the man had driven himself further into his work, trying to push the memories of you both with your bump past him, he didn't want to remember how you smiled so gently at him as you died, or how the doctors tried saving you as blood erupted around your form

📺 It was because of how he held himself to such a low-degree that Vox had passed away, and due to his actions in life, he was banished to hell

📺 He believed he deserved it, but now he could start anew, and that was where he grew back into power and eventually met a fairly new Overlord, one that had your same name

📺 Once he asked you and learned that you and your son were transferred to hell, he grew upset, why on Earth were you, the sweetest being he had ever known sent to hell? And why was his son, who never did anything in life, get sent here?!

📺 Every other Overlord, besides Alastor, was on-edge when your small son crawled out from your hand, being nothing but small shocks before turning into a mixture of Vox and your's demon forms

📺 He just smiled lightly and kneeled in front of his child, patting him on the head and declaring how he'd protect you guys till the end of time, in no way was he going to allow you guys to slip from his grasp again

📺 Now, as your son was made into the form of a young child (4-6), Vox always tried to keep his anger on the down-low. He didn't want his son to only see his father angry and full of rage

📺 While he may seem like a horrible father at first, once he got used to the fact that your child was interested in your occupations, you being a medic of the Overlords and him being the head of VoxTek, he smirked at Valentino and Velvette before holding his child and gloating about his company

📺 Speaking of the other two Vees, they adore your child. Valentino loves to help your son with his social skills, and he tries keeping his business on the down-low around him, he doesn't need to get shocked or nearly have his wings amputated by Vox and you again

📺 Velvette on the other hand, she loves to test her outfits on your child, from helping him find the most suitable outfits to having him listen to something on her phone as she speaks to her two main allies during a meeting, she is honestly a decent aunt

📺 Vox also has a wild obsession with watching Alastor fail, so if he were to ever see the Radio Demon talking to you or his son, he'd lose his shit, not caring who was there to watch

" I swear to fuck, you old-timey shit-stain, if you ever try touching my S/O or my son again, I'll fucking kill you and drag your corpse all around hell for the all people to see. "

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Insect-Demon! Reader ; Rosy Maple Moth

❣️ Valentino and you married quite early in life and had a very active life

❣️ It was due to your shared actions that you found of you were pregnant quite early, which made him try calming down from his actions and begin to coddle you

❣️ Unfortunately for him, your body couldn't quite handle the stress of birth, resulting in your demise, along with your daughter. And due to this event, he was driven mad

❣️ This was where he developed his abusive personality, constantly yelling and assaulting his workers, including Angel Dust when he first arrived and signed a contract

❣️ It took a while, but one he had heard about a new Overlord that looked a lot like Valentino (in terms of species) with a daughter that looked nearly identical, he decided to attend the next meeting without his fellow Vees

❣️ It only took a quick glance for him to know exactly who you were, in life you loved to mess around with roses, so it only made sense that you'd become a demon in relation to that plant

❣️ Once the meeting ended, Valentino walked up behind you and hugged you, wrapping his larger wings around your form as he felt your tiny orange-yellow antenna tickle his chin

❣️ Valentino also loves his baby girl a lot, spoiling the young girl with everything she could ever want

❣️ Once you and her walked back into his life, everyone within his studio learned who you were quickly, you were the long-time spouse of Valentino's, and the father to his young daughter

❣️ They also took notice of how more collected he was, and while he did have his moments of anger, he rarely ever laid a hand on his employees, unless he got angry enough

❣️ Valentino also swore on his afterlife that he would never touch anyone in the ways that he would touch you or your daughter, which allowed your new friend, Angel Dust, to be more free with his time

❣️ Much like Vox, he doesn't seem like he'd be a good parent. And they're kinda right, but only with certain situations

❣️ Valentino doesn't know what to do when it comes to certain scenarios, like when your daughter asked where children came from and you had to wrap your pink and yellow wings around his mouth to silence him from giving a very detailed story of how she came into existence

❣️ Vox and Velvette are also fairly involved with helping him raise his child, Velvette loves to help her dress, from giving her small clips to put in her hair to giving her full-fledged outfits, she spoils her just as much as Valentino does

❣️ Vox also spoils her, but he also knows when to be strict, he mostly just watches her whenever Valentino and you get busy with running the studio in V Tower. He's been declared the 'Godfather'/'Uncle' of your baby

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Bird-Like-Demon! Reader ; Peacock

📳 Velvette and you agreed that you'd raise your child together, despite knowing that it wasn't her own, rather, it was your ex-husband's

📳 He had abandoned you with your unborn baby a few months prior to you and Velvette married, and it was on your honeymoon that you went into labor

📳 Sadly, you had lost the baby, and eventually lost your life due to internal injuries just a few months later, prompting your wife to go a hint overboard with her actions

📳 When she died, she never expected to see you sitting across from her at an Overlord meeting, your long tail feathers falling onto your lap where a small boy sat, playing with them

📳 She looked up in shock as you told her of your son, how you both were banished here, your son due to the fact that he had the potential to due just a horrid things as you, and that angered her

📳 Velvette loves to mess around with your feathers that laid behind your head, the ones that only flare up when upset or feeling any kind of strong emotion

📳 She also adores to have you carry her, since she was fairly short when it comes to sinners, and you were very tall when it came to the species

📳 Now, when it comes to your son, she loves to dress him up, acting as if he was a small mannequin that she needed to make look as gorgeous as possible, and thankfully he looks a lot like you, meaning if something looked good on you, it would no doubt look good on him as well

📳 If your ex-husband ever came by to take his son back, she would straight-up ruin his life, literally. She'd post everything around to make him lose his title, and if that didn't work, she'd just kill him, she doesn't care which he chooses

" I swear to you, (R/N). If you ever, ever, try to come here and demand to have the son that you abandoned in the first place, I will do two things. I'll ruin your fucking afterlife by stripping your title away, and I'll make sure during the next Extermination, you get a very long and fucking long death, try me, bitch-boy. "

📳 Velvette also is a fairly good step-mother to your son, she loves to give him small trinkets she finds around. One time she came home with a small present from the store, and when your son looked at the tiny necklace that opened to show holographic photos of you three together, you couldn't help but fall for her even more

📳 Much like with the other Vees, she does involve Valentino and Vox with her step-child's life

📳 On average, she has Valentino just help watch him, leaving Vox being the head of watching him, she doesn't need to have you on her ass about how Valentino took her son to the studio to observe his work

📳 Vox is the official 'Grandfather' of your son, while Valentino is more like the 'Funcle' of the two

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Mythical-Creature-Demon! Reader ; Wendigo

🔘 Alastor and you shared a lot in common during life, from your cannibalistic and murderous crimes, you both bonded over the fact that you were able to keep it all away from people's eyes, despite your high-ranks in society

🔘 He was the head of his own radio broadcast, while you were the head of a small orphanage that took in any child that was needing a home without any problems

🔘 Ever since Mimzy introduced the two of you and you learned of your situations, you decided to 'help' one another out, and by that, I mean by covering for one another

🔘 This teamwork led to you guys falling in love, in a twisted way that is. He loved you for how you would just casually keep a smile on, and you loved him because of his owl personality

🔘 While many didn't expect him to ever fall in love, due to him being a canonical aromantic, they did find it funny to watch him just smile and treat you like a member of royalty

🔘 He never really did find a need for intimate actions, but one drunken night and a lot of pregnancy tests later, you found of you were carrying his child, alerting him to keep you away from your previous crimes. He didn't need you or the child getting harmed

🔘 Alastor may not have shown it, but he was very heartbroken when the doctor released the news that you had lost your baby, and eventually your own life

🔘 Knowing due to your crimes that you'd end up in hell, Alastor would sit at your grave and speak of how he'd see you sometime soon

🔘 And he was right. He had found you once again during his first Overlord meeting, what he did not expect was seeing your young son sitting on your lap while gnawing on a small hunk of deer meat

🔘 He knew that this was your shared child, and he welcomed the youngling with open arms and a fully-fledged smile, his sharp teeth matching his son's

🔘 Speaking of your son, he loves to spend time with his father, learning how to play the piano and singing old songs with him as you stood off to the side with Husk and Niffty, watching the boys have fun

🔘 Alastor only allows you and your son to really touch him without many warnings, and while it took a lot to get used to, he loves watching him randomly grab his staff and try singing in the microphone

🔘 Much like his father, your son can use tentacles and use his powers to make his voice radio-sounding, and it is the funniest thing to watch members of the Hotel go nuts hearing so much of the noise

🔘 Due to being the son of the Radio Demon and the Wendigo Overlord, many don't even dare trying to touch your son, well, except for Vox and Lucifer

🔘 Vox one time had decided to try holding your son without permission, resulting in him being sent flying across the meeting room by your husband

🔘 And when Lucifer first arrived and began to tickle your son to make him laugh, he stood off to the side with his ears pushed backwards in irritation, watching his son smile by such a fatherly action not being made by him was annoying

🔘 And, because of your declaration, you named the members of the Hotel as your son's 'Godfathers'/'Godmothers', only having Husk and Niffty as the 'Siblings' of your son

#Hazbin Hotel #The Hazbin Hotel #Overlords #Demons #Sinners #Hell #Hazbin Hotel x Reader #The Hazbin Hotel x Reader #Overlords x Reader #Demons x Reader #Sinners x Reader #Hell x Reader #S/O! Reader #F! Reader #GN! Reader #Demon! Reader #Overlord! Reader #Sinner! Reader #Hazbin Vox #Hazbin Vox x Reader #Hazbin Valentino #Hazbin Valentino x Reader #Hazbin Velvette #Hazbin Velvette x Reader #Hazbin Alastor #Hazbin Alastor x Reader

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.66)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Wolves always go for the throat, whether they’re cornered or hunting.

Tags: Blood, Guns, violence, near death experiences, everyone lives nobody dies...but someone does die this chapter, horror, non-lethal injury, talks of death and dying, a bit of body horror, Trans! tae, Tae is briefly dead named in this, implied/referenced intimate partner violence, flashbacks, brief suicidality.

W/c: 8.3k

A/N: ahhhhhh <3 we're finally ready for this part of the story <3 i wonder what your guys reactions will be, i'm really glad i decided to split this chapter into two peices! it's much cleaner this way. don't be 🥲 too mad at me.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

(Four years prior, Hoseok)

Today is the day that Hoseok will meet his future pack, he just doesn’t know it yet.

It always feels like a bit of betrayal but the worst and best days of your life often come close together. Maybe just for contrast. A bit of good in the bad. A slice of cake in a feast of raw meat.

This starts as just another bad day in a long stretch of shitty days. The kind of days were anxiety bubbles up and how afraid you are is all you can think about. Taking one breath and then another like just staying alive means you're guaranteed to get better.

The only place to go from rock bottom is up, and hoseok's sneakers are firmly on the concrete, standing outside of the record store in the rain with no place to go.

Hoseok has been afraid for a long time. He can't really remember even if he thinks hard, the last morning he woke up not afraid.

What hoseok really needs is a day off, but he really can't fucking afford it. He can't afford anything- certainly not a one-bedroom apartment on his own. If he's really really lucky maybe he'll be able to find a closet room somewhere that will cost almost his whole paycheck. Because after today-

After today, Jung Hoseok will be homeless, packless, and alone. His pack dropped the news on him last night…or well ex-pack.

He doesn’t expect that he’ll be moving into the pack's house on this rainy day, he doesn't expect that by the end of the week, he won't be worrying about where his next meal will come from because Jin will be there with it ready. Jimin sometimes too.

He won't be worrying about where he'll sleep because the bed in their spare room that smells like tae tae tae will be his. He'll roll around in it when the door is closed, shy about it because Hoseok has never liked other alpha's scents so much before. And when he comes home and Jungkook has made a nest in it, it will feel like a bit of an impossible silver lining, a bit too much- to have an omega making him a nest, making something special just for him

It takes three weeks for Namjoon to make him a house key for himself. After he gets left outside in a very similar storm to this. The doctor will touch his cheek, thumbing at the dimples that they share. how special is it that each smile gets cradled like a crescent moon? the heavens have left imprints on both of their skin. Freckles for stars and dimples for moon's.

"I don't want you to get sick pup."

"People don't get sick from wet heads anymore hyung."

"They don't. But I want to keep you dry and comfortable in my den. i know you still want to look for apartments but...what if you didn't?"

But neither the weather nor Hoseok knows to prepare for good news. Right now the heavens open up and release its deluge, thick rain the way that only happens at the start of summer. Worms and other wriggly things crawl their way out of their holes to find a good spot to die next to Hoseok's shoes. Worn fancy sneakers that his pack-omega had gotten him a few months ago for their anniversary. They're the nicest thing he's ever owned.

His ex-pack omega.

It's hard to rewire your brain, especially for alpha's. Hoseok is a lone wolf. He hasn't been without a pack in so long, it feels weird to not have someone to call, someone he needs to trail after and cling to. He checks his phone but he doesn't have a single notification from them.

He doesn't have a single notification from anyone.

Hoseok is glad he doesn't feel his instincts as keenly as other alphas do. Otherwise, he might be inclined to gnash his teeth at the people who pass by him on their way to work, umbrellas almost bumping him, perceiving even closeness as a threat. So vulnerable without a pack (lone alphas are always the first to starve in winter).

Hoseok shivers even though its summer, he's soaked to the bone after a few minutes.

He has a key to the record store. He could go inside. Granted- he should be inside already. Opening up shop, making coffee, and letting the place warm up. But standing out in the rain feels too much like penance.

Hoseok likes the rain. The smell of it. The way it makes the whole world ache and go still. He feels every drop on his dark hair, soaking through his thin hoodie. It's cleansing almost, letting the rain soak him through.

(The end of relationships is always hard, let alone the end of abusive relationships, they’re downright terrible).

Hoseok keeps replaying their words in his head, with every slosh of a nearby car, every honk of a taxi. The stoplight red and green bleeding onto the wet concrete. Yellow flashing in contrast with hoseok's dark memories.

“You’re welcome to stay here until the lease runs out, but the four of us need to move back home. You understand Hobi don’t you? We’re just omega’s- we’re just girls- and we think this could be a clean break for all of us. We just don't want to lead you on any longer.”

The worst part is that Hobi had sort of known, had sort of already realized what was happening. he’d seen it in their looks; distant and despondent. Their touches that did not linger longer than necessary, cheeks turned as he comes in for a kiss. The phone calls hushed in the other room that cut off abruptly when he entered.

The lease on their apartment ends today. The place has already been professionally deep cleaned and Hoseok's things are packed in his car in plastic bins. He has 6 of them to his name.

He doesn’t have a place to go yet, he might just sneak into the back room at the record store and sleep there until he figures something out. Hoseok drove to work early because he didn't have another place to go.

This version of Hoseok is not the one you know, this version of Hobi is 23 and hopeless, can’t think about moving back in with his parents a city away, with nothing but a rusted-out Corolla that barely gets him to work let alone through the 200-mile trip. It will die on him in about 6 months and Namjoon will be thankful that Hoseok no longer is driving around in a deathtrap.

He hadn’t even gotten this job by himself, his pack omega- his ex-girlfriend had gotten him this job almost 4 months ago after his last one didn’t pan out. Temporary work for temporary people.

Nothing feels like his. Not his body and certainly not this job.

Hoseok hasn’t smoked in months, but something that feels an awful lot like self-disgust worms under his skin and he can’t resist. Not today of all days. Smoking is something that he doesn’t indulge in often, and hasn’t indulged in since… becoming an alpha to someone. But he guesses it doesn’t matter now without anyone to complain that they don’t like the smell.

The cigarette mixes with the smell of petrichor and Hoseok’s own acidic scent. The smell of a terrified alpha draws him more than a few looks but he pays them no mind. He's thankful for his soaking face, at least the rain keeps out the tears. Cool and soothing against his face.

Hoseok just wants- Hoseok just wants to call them. To talk to someone.

Ending relationships is always like this. You want to keep being good, keep being what they want, but that’s impossible. You can’t act or behave right and dupe someone into loving you. Sometimes the love just isn’t there. (A smaller shyer voice says it was never love at all, you can't possess love, only be given it and Hoseok feels like a cast aside possession. Love and abuse cannot coexist).

Hoseok should have known. He keeps replaying the moments in his head. He’d seen them exchanging knowing looks when they thought he wasn’t looking.He thought he was just being paranoid, until yesterday morning when they’d taken him aside.

“You knew this had to end one day Hoseok" "You knew one day we'd move on." "As much as we appreciate what you’ve done for us, we think it’s time for us to move on.”

“What do you mean? I thought we were leaving next week, you really left me with only a day to find a place to go?”

“We’re sorry Hoseok, your last rut was just too much to deal with. We think it's best if we just stay on our own. It's a clean break this way.”

"Wait, please- I love you."

"We know. We're sorry."

Hoseok is too much for anyone to deal with. He doesn’t call his friends (he hasn’t met up with any of them or returned their texts in months thanks to several pointed words from his pack omega). He doesn’t go inside yet because he deserves the rain. He sits out front of the record store, smoking a cigarette that will probably end up killing him down the line, and thinks Good.

He tells himself the irritation in his eyes is just because of the cigarette smoke blowing in his face, even though he knows it's not. He's not even inhaling right because his breaths come all hitched and pathetic. Anyone would be sad if their relationship of several years had ended. Anyone would be devastated.

Hoseok checks his phone again. Nothing.

Most people on the crowded street ignore him. Though the thick throng of people going about their business, probably going to work at their 9 to 5 jobs that pay enough to afford apartments and packmates. Hoseok is the one soul that stands stationary.

Until one, someone a few feet back stops, tipping their face through their hood to look at him. The only other person without an umbrella.

Hoseok knows his face and his name. It’s just Min Yoongi- his coworker and sort of friend who's coming in for his shift. Hoseok doesn't love Yoongi yet but they're sort of friends already. They might be better friends if Hoseok could get over his admiration and jealousy.

Yoongi has this way of quietly taking care of the people around him. He picks up Hoseok's jacket when it slides off the hook at work, asks him if he wants coffee and even pays for it when he goes to the coffee shop next door. He compliments Hoseok's music tastes when it's his turn to play something, he gives Hoseok the aux frequently in a way that feels a little bit like flirting.

The only two good things about Hoseok's job are the music and Min Yoongi.

He even laughs at Hoseok's shitty jokes when they're stacking new inventory saying cryptic things like "they can't be worse than my omega's jokes."

That's why Hoseok's jealous. Yoongi gets packmates, five of them who make him lunch even when he's only got a four-hour shift. that often linger outside to walk him home or pick him up in their shiney not new not old cars.

(Yoongi's packmates certainly have better things to do than send Yoongi to work with a second packed lunch. "Jin-hyung caught a glimpse of you through the doorway, the only thing that he hates more than Namjoon's snoring is skinny Alpha's.")

Min Yoongi has that look that people do when they're well-loved by packmates. Hair ruffled and neck dotted with bruises that might as well be mating bites for a beta. Beta's don't mate, but these ones certainly keep him close. He wears their scents like a shield. Sometimes so thick that Hoseok can't even smell any of his chocolate scent.

Right now, staring at Yoongi a few paces into the street, all Hoseok can smell is the rain.

When Hoseok had been introduced to him it had felt strange just by virtue of Yoongi's sub gender. A beta? Working somewhere so normal? Weren’t beta's supposed to be like- financial advisors or assistants to the president or something? Betas are supposed to have more important jobs than pushing vinyl and bumping Hoseok's shoulder playfully.

(Hoseok hasn’t seen it yet, the way that the owner hands over little white baggies to people who come in looking hungry for a high that cigarettes or alcohol can’t fix. Hoseok hasn’t yet realized that the record store isn't just a record store. This is just one front business of many that the family has organized across this city and the country for distribution of some of his most precious inventory). Yoongi has worked her for the last year, takes calls in the back for the family. The owner only bows to him when Hoseok's not around.

They only hired hoseok for tax purposes. Having three employees looks less suspicious than just two.

The beta looks concerned, and Hoseok knows he can’t hide the fact that he’s been crying as the beta steps up and pushes Hoseok back under the awning. Out of the rain and into the warmth of the doorway. This kind of movement would make any alpha snap, but not Hoseok. Hoseok just tucks his chin down and starts to cry.

“Oh Hoseok.” Hobi sniffles, and wipes his runny nose on his sleeve. Yoongi's hand curls against his throat, chocolate scent spiking to soothe. “You’re soaking wet."

Yoongi grabs his wrist and Hoseok almost keens at the gentle touch. Whole body shaking, shoulders curling in Yoongi's direction. Yoongi’s lips press into a thin line and then tugs him inside.

~-~

(Now, You)

You hold your breath. Still peering around the corner, watching and waiting for the man to spot you.

But he doesn't, after a breath where his soft footsteps echo, you wait, but nothing happens. You peak back around the corner.

You absorb and catalog the details as fast as you can; the black ski mask, covered by one of those traditional Korean masks, wooden with red lacquer. This one is a little different than the one that Jimin had; not twisted with thick eyebrows in a snarl. This one is white with red splotches on the cheeks, like a ghost sent down from above to rob you of your humanity.

The bulletproof vest stops at the collarbones. The gun itself is a black generic model. The long end is extra bulbous with something that might be an attached silencer. His hands covered in black nitrile gloves, leathery at first glance. There is a knife at his waist along with a barrage of other small things; rope and a knife, duct tape and handcuffs. His heavy boots look steel toed and reinforced.

The man (because it is a man you realize; tall, maybe taller than Namjoon) trains his gun at the landing on the top of the stairs. Pointing it in the direction of Hobi, Tae, and Jin’s hushed voices.

Hobi giggles and it sounds so bright. Echoing off the walls and filling the house with his musical laughter.

There is a phone cord tangled in your hands, long and white. You grip it tight.

This man might be silent but you’re quieter as you slide your bare feet across the smooth floors. Your strides are so quiet. You take one step and then another until you're behind the man, mirroring him.

You remember when Yoongi redid the floors, it was one of the few things that he did right away; before the pack came to live here (to love here). It took him weeks and weeks of sanding before he got them to his liking. Days more of brown dark stain that colored his hands ruddy until the soft matte finish stuck. Every pass with the belt sander and dirty rag a movement of love, a meditation for it.

Yoongi made every inch of this house with the same loving intent; to make it a home for all of you. a place to be safe and nurse your wounds and hearts. You won’t let it become a grave. You won’t let this person stay here and ruin it.

Most people get it wrong; In order to kill it is not a matter of elegance or effort. There is no such thing as a perfect kill either. Emotionless and analytic isn't enough and being justified only gets you halfway. There is no way to do it cleanly. People die just as they live, messy and hopeful and dirty.

Murder isn't a matter or wanting or wishing, It’s a matter of rage.

It’s always been this way. Rage has been chewing a hole through you from the moment that you pulled the trigger with Geumjae. From the moment you said ‘I do’. Rage that these violent things have been done to you, that they continue to happen, that you can’t just get away from all the hurt and trauma.

Rage has eaten you clean through to the bone. Rage has made you skinny and starving, rage has made you timid and fragile. But now you're the hungry one. Right now, only three words run through your head;

How dare she.

How dare she send this man into your house. How dare she point a gun at the upstairs, in the general direction of your nest and your packmates. The altar at which you so desperately cling to, for sweet dreams and sweeter worship (There is no deity above the god of love, not even death. Death cannot take the love from your chest, someone dying does not make you stop loving them).

How dare she even think about hurting the people you love.

There is no courage, no bravery, no thought in your head about how stupid it might be as you step closer behind the man. You are not a trained assassin. You’re just an omega.

The adrenaline rush is an old friend, a thrall both intoxicating and unnerving. Your heart beats loud in your ears. You grip the phone cord in your hands and take a quiet steadying breath. He doesn't see you, he doesn't hear you, he doesn't know that you're behind him.

Wolves always go for the throat, whether they’re cornered or hunting.

The assassin’s foot ascends the bottom step. You don’t let him get to the second before you’re moving, hurtling forward. Footsteps no longer light. Your hands go over the man’s shoulders. The cord no more than a white flash across his vision before you draw it tight across his neck.

The pain and panic are instant as you’re suddenly tethered to a six-foot-four assassin and struggling to stay on your feet as he stumbles back. You’re pulled off your feet and down the stairs, but you keep it as tight as you can and you don’t let go. Fighting to keep your makeshift garrote tight as he scrambles to get his fingers around where it digs into his skin. Spluttering loud.

The hard wire digs, cutting easily through plastic and then your skin as he tries to pull you off. You don’t let go until he backs you into the entryway wall and slams you against it with a dizzying clang of bone and body hitting something solid. Your head narrowly avoids one of the hooks that the pack hangs their coats on. An inch to the left and he'd have impaled your skull on it. An inch to the left and you'd be dead.

A single inch.

His head slams into your face, and you feel something in your nose pop, flooding your mouth with blood so thick you choke.

He slams you against the wall once, twice, and then a third time until your grip goes slack and slippery with blood. It knocks the breath out of you, and he finally throws you off. You both fall to the ground like stones. Both of you gasp and struggle for breath. At least one of your ribs it broken, but because of the adrenaline you can't even feel it.

When the man lifts his black gloves to his throat, they come away glossy with blood.

(It’s crazy how you never notice the change from the day to day, one day you are begging for a reason to hold on, a reason to live, and the next you’re fighting tooth and nail to keep going. Just about gnawing your own arm off to get out. To survive and live to see another day. Another sunrise.)

By that time the air has returned to your lungs it’s enough for you to scream. “Jin! Jin! There’s someone in the house there’s-”

You try and inhale through your nose and blood makes you choke. You push at the floor with your hands, struggling to stand, fingers slippery and tacky with your blood.

The man tries to scramble up the stairs but you latch onto his legs and make him drop. Doing everything in your power to keep him from going up to them, to your packmates. Hugging his ankle to your chest to slow him down (the same way you’ve hugged Namjoon’s arm and Yoongi’s, the way you held Hobi in the nest on the couch just a few shattered days ago).

The man turns the gun on you, pointing it to your head, you flinch, waiting for the shot-

and open them as He heaves a frustrated roar before he wheels away and turns, aiming at the top of the stairs instead of right in your face.

You could have died right then. could have and should have, but you didn’t. Your brain is too messy with adrenaline right now to make sense of it.

Why didn't he shoot?

The gun goes off, a bullet whizzing by Jin’s head. His face, scared, on the stairs flashes ever briefly. Ducking for cover just in time. The doorframe explodes in a cacophony of dark wood splitters. The doorknob sparks and bursts into a million pieces with another shot. metal clanking against the ceiling, the walls, down the stairs.

One second, you’re holding onto his heavy leather boot, and the next it’s colliding with your face and you’re out like a light.

Getting hit in your face is always such a disorientating experience. You’d never gotten used to it, even with Geumjae. Granted it’s hard to get used to the stomach-churning low vision feeling of weightlessness, like vertigo only worse.

"Hobi! don't- jesus fucking christ-"

You’re not quite sure what happens next only that you can’t see for a moment after the boot hits your face, and you take big breaths through your mouth. Blood, you taste blood. And then your vision comes back. Black spots and all and there’s Hobi’s face in front of you. No assassin, just him, helping you up from the floor. You're not on the steps anymore but at the bottom of them.

“The kitchen, the kitchen," Blood rushes over your bottom lip. Hoseok wipes it away, inhaling a jagged breath. "He’s-”

He pushes at your shoulders. “The car- get to the car.” It feels impossible. This can be happening in your house. Are you about to have a shoot-out in the street? On your quiet cul-de-sac? But then, in the corner of your vision dark movement.

You tug Hobi’s head down the second that the gun goes off- probably saving his life, definitely saving it as the bullet tears through the banister and ends in a hollow thump in the wall. he may not have shot you but he has no quams shooting at Jin and Hobi. The bullets hit the wall- Maybe 6 inches above your bent heads. Too close, close enough that Hobi trembles in your hold. And he rips something- a piece of the doorway, out of his arm with a wince before he covers your body with his own.

The volley of gunshots are so loud, so vicious as they blow things apart, tearing holes through Yoongi’s coat, the doorway, the banister, and the narrow stairway rungs. Pieces of wood hit your curled forms. Hobi shoves your head down when you try to look.

There is wetness, hot, something hot on your hands, your neck, you know it’s blood before you look. You think it’s from you until the Gunsmoke clears and you realize- fingers skimming across hoseok's forehead, a gash above his eyebrow.

A bullet graze by his hairline thats bleeding profusely. head wounds always bleed a ridiculous amount.

There are more bullets behind you but it’s just Jin returning fire.

Jin’s got Tae behind him. Her face ashy and pink from the shower and panic, her mid-length dark hair such a tangle, cowering behind his back. Jin's gun is so much louder without the silencer. Did he bring one upstairs? Or did he get it from Jimin’s stash?

Jin nearly drags Tae to the three of you, and she clings to you. Your hand finds her face. Fingers are red and bloody smudging against her cheek, blink and you're back there a million moments in the past; dotting red blush across her cheeks with a brush- your fingers- kissing it into place with your lips- painting a line of maroon across her eyelids to bring out the lighter flecks in her eyes- Watching her twirl in a red dress. Pressing your red lips against hers in a quiet dark moment in the library room. With her in Hobi's red car- Everything red.

If it starts with red, maybe it's fitting that it ends in red too.

Jin doesn’t give you time to reminisce. Pushing her shoulder down hard. His bare chest splattered with splinters from the door. Covered in wood fragments that stick to his black sweatpants and damp feet. Shouting, “All of you get down!”

You follow your pack omega’s words. Hobi and Tae With their damn alpha instincts blanket you as Jin fires again. The shots are so much louder in the small space. Another shot, another thunder strike. tae grips your wrist tight, your hands.

When you look down, they look mutilated. you can see bone in one place, deep gashes across the centre of your palms.

Your ears ring and you can't make sense of anything over the noise. Jin returns every bang with a boom of his own, bright flashes lighting up the dark staircase. Casing after casing tinkling down to the floor, rolling across the floorboards

But then, for a second- the gunfire goes quiet.

The house creeks and the three of you hold your breath. Jin's still half-concealed. The air heavy and clouded with gunsmoke and the smell of blood.

Hobi tentatively gets onto his knees and then stands when he doesn't immediately get shot at. You make a small noise in your throat, the loudest that you dare, but he’s looking after Jin, standing in the darkness, hackles raising his angry scent of burning sugar acrid in your nose. His hand slides out of yours, your blood on his palms.

And then you hear the rush of boots, echoing in the living room, near your nest- you’d never unmade it after you and Hobi fucked there. You'd been too busy taking care of Jimin. Hoseok bears his teeth.

Hobi turns, sliding out of your hands quicker than you can grab him. Quicker than you can tell him that he’s being dumb, that he’s being suicidal.

“Not my girlfriend! You asshole!”

The world is a dizzying cacophony of gunpowder, pain, bullets, and shouting. Jin yells Hoseok’s name. But the alpha heads after the assassin regardless of your cries. Jin narrowly keeps him from running headlong into no mans land. the open area by the door that would leave Hoseok a sitting duck.

Tae’s standing up on unsteady legs as you all spill out of the stairs into the narrow hall. Out from her hiding place cowering behind the banister. Your attention isn’t on her it’s on Hobi. Neither you nor Jin are looking at her. You’re running after him on shaky legs. Jin holds you both back, trying to corrall you. The air is cloudy with Gunsmoke, hazy and heavy. Her eyes are wide and pretty like dark marbles as she watches Hobi.

They’re just as pretty when the gun presses to the back of her head.

Everyone turns and goes still. The man has Tae in his arms, hand in her hair making her neck arch. The gun pressed to her jaw. Finger on the trigger.

Her body trembles and she doesn’t turn, frozen still in fear a shallow whine building in her throat.Jin has the gun trained on the man faster than you can make to step in Tae’s direction. But it’s no use.

He must have gone around, run through the livingroom through your pantry. A similar path that you took to surprise him. He must know the floor plan of the house, must have studied it to prevent situations like this. You have no upper hand here with tae in his arms.

Tae’s mouth is buttony and parted, but it settles into a resigned line.

Jin’s never been a good enough shot- not for one like this, even barely 10 feet away. He might hit Tae. Shaky, Jin takes his finger off the trigger and stoops down to put the gun on the floor. His other hand is up, already surrendering when the man jerks Tae's head back by her hair. Rougher than he needs to be.

“Don’t shoot her, please don’t shoot- please.”

The man juts his chin at the gun on the floor. “Kick it away now, be a good omega.” Jin grits his teeth but does as he says.

The man’s voice is rough as gravel. Dignified, but with no obvious accent. Not the quiet cadence that you’ve come to expect from the family. Neither posh nor lowbrow. Something in between. Flat and monotone. You're sure that you've never heard his voice before.

“I have to admit, your file said you’d be resistant, but it said nothing about you being dumb as fuck and a poor shot to boot.”

Jin licks his lips and bares his teeth, “Put that gun back in my hand and then say it again.” The masked man cocks his head to the side and then shrugs as if Jin's fury doesn't mean anything to him.

But He’s bleeding, it trails down to the floor so the words can't be genuine. It's a small wound, a graze on his right thigh. Red bright and hot that drips in onto the floor from his pant leg.

His hand tightens in Tae’s hair. “Line up against the wall. Now. Or I’ll blow her brains out in front of you."

You move first, eyes trained on Tae. But he snaps, eyes unreadable behind that mask, “No- not you. I’m not here to kill you.”

He tosses something to Jin and he catches it. Handcuffs that jingle and clink. Your foot hits an errant bullet with a similar tinkle. “Handcuff Jin to the stairs Hoseok.”

Your names, he knows your names. Your mind races over every detail, every moment trying to piece together a way to get out of this. a way to save them.

“Why are you doing this?” Hobi’s trembling, shaking. “Did Jimin-”

“Jiminie did nothing.” The man croons dragging the barrel of the gun down Tae’s cheek leaving a dark smudge in its wake. It's red on her face, the barrel must still be hot, your blood crusty around her lips.

“Honestly though, you should know he was a shit assassin. Truly piss poor even by industry standards. They always threw him the easiest kills."

The three of you are quiet, if he was hoping to elicit a reaction or more of a fight You don’t give him the satisfaction. Although jin grits his teeth, gnashing anger and an omega's feral instinct to protect their pups.

You step forward hands open, barely two steps from Tae. If you can just get to her maybe you can-

“Please- please don’t kill them."

He cocks his head at you, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Oh no, you misunderstand me I’m not going to do any of it.”

He taps Tae’s head once again with the gun and Tae starts to truly struggle. You tremble in fury and horror as you realize what he means with a sickening lurch in your stomach.

“This is how it’s going to work Y/n” You still at the sound of your name. “Taehyung here is going to shoot Jin and Hoseok. And then once we’re sure they’re good and dead, I’ll kill her.” He tosses you another pair of handcuffs, these ones are meant for you.

You take one step closer; Jin's gun is between your feet now. But you couldn't pick it up or else he'd shoot Tae. Time, you just need a minute to figure out what to do. How to get them out of this.

Yourself now, that's a different story. If you where in Tae's position you'd turn your face to the side and bite the mans hand.

“And what about me then? If they're all dead what’s to stop me from fighting?” he seems to consider it only briefly, the gun in his hand tilting so that you can see the dark oval where the bullet will come out, where it will rocket through Tae's skull and take all the little worlds she dreams of, all her poems and words and make them nothing.

“You think you're so precious? I’ll just kill you.” he says it like it's nothing. like you're nothing. He nods to the others, appealing to them and not you. “What do you want? All four of you to die? Or just three? What will hurt Namjoon the least? Do you think Yoongi will survive loosing his mate? What do you think Jinnie?”

You think of Yoongi's mating mark, the spot on his hip where your small curved semi-circles sit. You think of them turning black- a brand of a dead mate. You think of Hobi's eyes opening and never closing again. You think of Jungkook nesting without Jin and you. Of Namjoon holding out his hand and having no one to take it without Jin there.

You won't let any of this happen.

The others shoot each other unsure glances but you shake your head. you shake your head because earlier on the step, the man didn't take the easy shot, the easy kill.

If he really had orders to kill you, he would have done it then.

you step forward and shake your head. “I don’t believe you. I know your orders are to take me. That’s what all of this is about isn’t it?” The man doesn’t drop his weapon. Just presses it tighter to Tae’s jaw.

“Handcuff Jin now Hobi. Or else I’ll-”

You see the darkness settle in Jin’s eyes and before you know it he's turning to you, eyes flat. Endless in their darkness, the way they might if-

You don't let yourself consider it. You won't let it get to that point.

“Pup-”

You guess it does make sense, having you kill each other as opposed to the assassin doing the dirty work and implicating Moonbyul. If you really are on that ‘no kill list’ like Yoongi said at the hospital, having you take out each other is the only logical course of action. Once Tae kills Jin and Hobi, she'll be free game. This is the only way retribution won’t fall back on her. This is so similar to what she tried and failed to do with Jimin and Jin. This is a second attempt.

Only-

Only this time, you have a bargaining chip.

You step forward, in front of Hobi and Jin, blocking them from his line of sight. Barely a pace in front of Tae, but from the way he tightens his grip on her you know that you can go no further.

“You can take me; I’ll go with you. Willingly.”

Jin makes a noise in his throat and tries to move, but dares not when the man tightens his grip on Tae’s hair hard enough to rip a bit of it out.

“That’s what she wants, isn’t it? If you just let them live I’ll go with you.”

The man is silent for a second. Hobi trembles and so does Jin. For a second, you truly think that he’s going to take the bait.

But the mask is directed towards the floor, then back up at you. “Those aren’t my orders.” His finger is on the trigger so close to Tae’s head. “Now cuff him, I don’t want Jinnie getting any ideas.”

Hobi’s hands are shaking as he unwillingly shackles Jin to the steps as slowly as he can. He's buying time too. Every second and every heartbeat is precious. Both ends loop around a single rung and click closed. The rung itself is a little loose from a bullet that blew it apart near the bottom, it’s got to be the loosest one. Hobi turns, and you see the pre-meditation in his eyes; he chose that one so that Jin could still get free if he tried hard enough.

Everyone is trying. Everyone is defiant. The quirk of Jin's eyes as he settles, staring with rage at the man, his voice a quiet croon when he says what might very well be the last words he ever speaks.

“Tae you can close your eyes honey, it’s okay.”

"No I can't" She struggles harder against his hold, but it only gets her part of her hair pulled out with how rough the man jerks her, tears clouding her vision. "I can't- don't- please-"

Tae's soul has always been butterfly soft and flower tender. She's not made for this. She's not made for murder or pain or anything that lacks softness. She's never been a killer; Jimin was always that side of their coin. Saint and sinner.

Your body goes cold and for a second, you think you just might pass out, especially when Hoseok grips your wrist. One final squeeze in what can only be goodbye before he steps away and in front of jin. Hair puffed up. Jin is lowering his eyes and no no no.

No.

Tae is staring at you, eyes wide and scared, but you watch in total powerlessness as her eyebrows lower. You see the moment Tae thinks it. Eyes meeting yours, lips mouthing something that you can’t read. Maybe I’m sorry no.

I love you. Sorry.

The truth is that Jimin drilled this with her years ago before she left for college and he couldn’t follow. When Jimin first realized that for the first time in their lives she’d be without him as a constant protector. Delicate delicate Tae with her delicate pink soul. So vulnerable to the world and all its wickedness.

Tae didn't confront him about it until the nightmares were waking him up regularly. They were simple nightmares back then; images of Tae hurt and mugged. Tae beaten and left in an alleyway. Tae stalked through the night. Simple, but enough to keep him awake. Enough to torture him in his wakon hours as well as the nighttime.

If Jimin saw her now he'd pull the heavens down and demand something truly awful in exchange. He'd take one of the knives from the kitchen and gut him from belly button to addams apple. He'd eviscerate him- and Namjoon might help.

Hut there is no one here to do any of that, there is only Tae in the man's hold.

“What are you so scared of?” She’d asked one morning, trailing endless patterns on his chest in an effort to soothe him back to sleep.

“Something happening to you while I’m not there, mostly.”

“Would it make you feel better? If you taught me the basics?”

Jimin's pause is telling, more telling are his eyes, hopeful when he looks up at Tae. “Yes, it would.”

It’s been years and years since Jimin Tae have bothered to drill any self-defense sequences it at all. Since he stopped asking her to refresh the basics with him once a year just to make sure. Jimin never thought that Tae would have to use those skills. Like with most things, you just sort of hope you don't have to fight.

But Tae knows you did fight. It's written all over your bloody face and your bloody hands, tightened to fists by your side. If you fought tooth and nail to save them she should fight too.

Tae has written fight scenes like this before. If she survives the press of the gun to the back of her head, she’s gonna have one hell of a personal experience to pull from for her book. The content will be endless.

She seems to swell in the space, alpha shoulders settling back. Her mouth is moving, mouthing words her eyes on you. Just in case this is the last thing she ever does.

I’m sorry, I love you.

“Be a good boy and pick up the gun Tae.” Tae bends down, syrupy slow. Intentional with her every movement. One heartbeat. Another. Tae's fingers are maybe an inch from the gun when everything goes haywire.

When she's about halfway bent she uses her momentum to hurl her body back, slamming her head into the gun and then into the man’s face. Cracking the mask and from the sound of it, the man’s nose. Tae's almost knocks herself out with the force of her own head colliding with the man’s face.

She turns, she’s not finished, not even close. She might be a woman but she’s an alpha too. Alphas always always fight to protect their pack. She turns and swings.

And drives her elbow as hard as she can between the alpha’s legs.

Hobi can’t stop his flinch. That has to hurt.

The assassin’s gun goes flying, skittering across the dark floor and under the bookcase and Hobi ends up lunging for it. You go after it too but you end up holding Tae instead, crumpling to the floor without anything to hold her up. She’s holding the back of her head, eyes watering.

The traditional mask lyes in pieces around you, shatered by the force of tae's headbut. The man clutches his nose, features still covered by the ski mast. Growling out- "Bitch- fucking bitch! I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill all of you-"

Jin struggles yanking his cuffed hands down as hard as he can- in another minute he might get loose, but not quick enough as Hobi finds the gun and raises it. The bullet hits the molding beside your pantry, missing the man by inches as he dives away to safety. A lucky shot by any standard, let alone for a beginner. Hobi shoots off after him. knocking into the wall before he's up and chasing it.

“Are you okay, Tae, Tae- look up at me.” Tae is clutching the back of her head. Blinking rabidly. That fucking hurt even if it was worth it.

“I’m fine just-” She leans over your legs and vomits, retching loud and horrible. Concussion- she must have given herself a concussion. Namjoon told you months ago how to read the signs of them shortly after the first time Jungkook ever had a seizure in front of you.

You hold her shoulders, watching Jin try and break himself free, yanking his wrists hard enough that it has to hurt. Moving to try and help him.

And then Hobi makes a noise in the other room, a pained ghasp, A thump and then-

Tae is already up and running, stumbling into the wall. You glance at Jin. "Go- just go" Jin grinds out. But Tae has longer legs than you do even concussed.

By the kitchen, Hobi slips on a fallen tangerine. (You remember then, Yoongi clearing the table with a brush of his hands for Jimin, tossing a whole bowl of them onto the floor. Where they've stayed since then) they're fighting, the man must have managed to disarm Hobi somehow because the gun sits under one of the chairs. Both of them are fighting just beside the dining room table. Part of it splintered and broken where someone broke it.

They're grappling on the floor now. Pushing against each other trying to gain the upper hand. you've watched the alpha's wrestle before- small disputes to settle and reaffirm the hierarchy, but you've never seen hobi move like this. You watch the man grasp at his waist reaching for the knife. His hands so slick with his own blood that it clatters to the floor. Hobi may not be trained but he's a fighter too. Gnashing his teeth and growling. Reaching up into the shallow gash at the mans throat and digging in his fingers.

And then he’s got Hobi on the ground and his hands around your alpha's throat. Tae tries to get him off but he backhands her, sending her sprawling to the ground and clutching her cheek. Too dizzy to stand. Big hands that squeeze and squeeze and squeeze Hobi's narrow throat. Spit at the corner of his lips turning frothy as hoseok tries to breathe and can't.

“I didn’t come this far to get killed by a bunch of family rejects; 11 years and 1458 kills later and I will not die. Just give up already- I didn’t come this far to-”

Hobi’s face is turning purple, hands scrabbling, pushing against his face trying to get him off unsuccessfully. Dying there on the floor. Hobi is going to die right there if you don't do anything.

Jin is shouting from the other room and there is a frying pan in the kitchen. On the countertop that you snatch on your way past, winding up for it before you swing it with all your might at the man's head and-

At the end of the day, it’s hard to say exactly what kills him. Whether it's you or Tae who wields the killing blow. It’s more of a group effort between you and her.

Tae has read countless books that described love as some gentle force, but this love has not made her gentle. Tae cannot sit there on the floor and watch Hobi die. She'd do anything to protect him and the pack. She’d kill people like Minnie did, would lie just as Jin had, would have sacrificed anything- even herself just like Yoongi.

Love had always been giving in Tae's mind, and she would give countless sins and untold violence, to have this not be the last day with you and the pack.

The gun is just sitting there under the chair. tae hardly has to lean over to get it. (If she makes it out of this alive, she swears to himself that she'll finally start taking those kickboxing classes that Jungkook teaches.) Tae lifts the gun at the same moment that your hand descends with the frying pan.

Tae turns, points, aims, and fires. She doesn’t even think twice about it. The trigger goes down as easily as breathing.

Getting shot in the throat definitely distracts him enough, definitely makes him let go of Hobi, clutching at his own throat instead of his. blood rushing over his hand and down onto hobi's face. So much that it almost splashes.

And then the frying pan hits his head with a hollow final thud.

There is a placid terror in things like this, a quiet as things go and come. The thumping, the sobbing breaths you let out, the descent of your hand, beating out your terror on the body below, a vessel for all of your fear.

The handle of the frying pan is thick and heavy in your hands. You bring it down on the man’s head, the curved edge of the cast iron connects with the plate of his skull with a hollow thud. One second, he's clutching at his blown-apart throat, and the next he goes limp, blood and brain matter splatters loud and heavy along the floor. Falling on top of Hobi like a lead weight.

Hobi's brown eyes are bloodshot and red in his mouth, heaving one big breath that sends the room spinning. Sends vertigo into his veins and panic-running adrenaline. You lift your arms up again and hit him, descending again and again.

His body is still, so still. His chest gives one open shudder and then goes truly quiet. Frozen in time. You are covered in blood, in your mouth, on your hair, on the ceiling. More and more splatters as your hand goes up and then down in an endless loop.

Dark cotton soaks, matted with blood and brain matter, blurry from your tears. A bit of it hits your face, wet and stinky. People never tell you how horrible it smells when people die.

You don’t stop hitting the man, even when it's clear he's dead. Even when you glare down at him through the tears in your eyes and see half a face staring up at you. An eyeball rolls across the floor.

There are arms around you pulling you off of him eventually. Dry warm arms, big and heavenly. One wrist dangles with a pair of handcuffs as Jin yanks you back from the man. The body.

“Pup- It’s done, pup- he's gone- Stop.”

There is blood all over you. On your face, on your hands, around the frying pan. Tae too, sitting just beside you. Half of her body splattered. Hobi's soaked with it and still struggling to breathe. But both of them, the three of them are alive.

“It’s over pup.” Jin sounds like he might be crying. Tae definitely is.

Hobi puts his head between his knees, gasping for every breath but still breathing. Tae's got him in his lap. Holding on to him as he splutters. face so soaked with blood he can't open his eyes without blinking rapidly.

It’s anything but over you think as you let go of the handle of the frying pan.

It clatters to the ground with a bloody and final thunk.

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Notes:

if the beginning of the chapter feels weird/different in terms of narration that is because it was mostly written 3+ years ago and my writing style has changed alot! kinda crazy! hopefully people will just attribute it to hoseok's internal monologue. it might be meandering but i kept reminding myself that this is hoseok at his lowest you know?

One thing i want you guys to realize is that the m/c may not be smart, but holy fuck can she take a beating and still get up.

Gun shoot outs are uniquely hard to write because like, just bang and it's done right? idk why part of this writing just felt so tedious usually i love writing stuff like this :(

hobi calls the m/c his girlfriend 🥺 did you guys notice???? he's such a cute pup charecter.

i have more notes for this chapter BUT i can't share them until the next one is out because it involves hobi's secret.

i hope you guys see like- how good the m/c actually is at the crime and thinking on her feet shit- i think that this chapter above all others shows her street smarts. she knows to keep the guy talking and distracted- i think it compliments her similarities to jimin and jin like. the trio of them are very capable people you know? vs hobi who just headlong rushes the assassin and fucks shit up. i'm not saying it's his fault- he does the best that he can in this chapter.

I'm trying to pull from my actual knowledge of how guns work but fun fact, silencers are still fucking loud, like still so loud that you need ear protection. and even blank bullets can still cause serious injury at close range.

I'm again at the stage where i can't tell if the gun shooting scene is clunky and too predictable or if it's actually as creepy as i've made it out to be.

This is one of those situations- the bargaining for each others lives, that i've actually never had to handle. it's actually pretty unusual for me to write about things that i haven't experienced in some way shape or form.

i've only written a few scenes in my life that have made me wonder like "huh- i wonder if people might actually think that i've seen a dead body, been around a dead body, or killed someone before?" and ngl, the scene with the assassin dying is one that makes me wonder that... i promise i just have a scarily vivid imagination.

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