#ive got more on the way since i started this series up again last month out of hype for the story dlc thats coming later this year

[engie-the-profit]

infinites 141-149. the end of an era

part 1 part 10 part 11 part 12 part 13 part 14

#engies daily dogs #my art #infinite the jackal #sonic forces #sonic frontiers #knuckles the echidna #gadget the wolf #thats all folks *never posts art again* #lol just kidding :3 #ive got more on the way since i started this series up again last month out of hype for the story dlc thats coming later this year #plus i draw other things HAHA #well at least sometimes #im known as the infinite guy #even a majority of my commissions are people paying me to draw inf #this is the brand ive built and yknow what. i like it

[romana-after-dark]

Flightless Bird, Fat House Cat: The Wrong Way Anniversary

The Wrong Way Universe

Title taken from a song on the playlist, Flightless Bird American Mouth by Iron and Wine.

ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY OF WHEN I FIRST POSTED THE WRONG WAY!!!!

I could never comprehend the love I got from this series.

Due to everything happening and the targeted harassment, I can't celebrate the way I want to but I couldn't pass up an opprituniety to celebrate this story.

Three POV's, Tommy, Lorenzo and Jack. I know Jack got v little play in TWW as he was just on the side in case I needed him (and I did end up needing him!) But through talking to Clem, Mary, Kate about the universe in this last year, he also has a special place in my heart and in Stolen Lullaby, aka my reworking of this story into a dark novell, he will have more of a roll. IDK if I ever mentioned it, but his faceclaim to me is Garrett Hedlund in his most yeehaw looks.

Because of everything, reblogs are disabled because I don't want attention to this blog and I'm taking a risk posting this but I want to be brave for this story. After this, I'll be gone for a bit so check out romana_rose for updates until this is over. If you enjoyed this, please leave a commnt. I need it right now.

I can never thank you guys enough for all the love you'e given the wrong way and the sequel series, Ghost of You and Going Under. This series was so important to me to explore my own trauma, family, friendship, motherhood, fatherhood, brotherhood, siblings, found family, morality, manhood, victimhood, etc.

You are all so important to me, every like, comment, reblog ive gotten i've looked at and loved.

Here we go.

Very little Joel, but I promise we'll have more for the celebration of the finale in a few months when i hope I can celebrate properly. But, seeing as Joel is the bad guy, I thought more exploration of the side characters would be interesting.

*****************

If Tommy closed his eyes, he could imagine it was her.

Things had gotten better in the raiding house for her, even if Tommy had lost a lot of her attention. Since Zach had tried to take her away, her brother she thought was dead until that night, the girl had been… less than pleased with him. It was understandable, he knew. From her perspective, Tommy had known her only family left that hadn’t abused her was a still alive and he had kept it from her… but from Tommy’s perspective he was protecting her. She had said to him to him, the day thought fought, that the only person that can protect her from Joel, is Joel, and she was right. He couldn’t protect her if she left again. Last time she tried, strong thing she was, she was burned and humiliated.

Thing were better for her now.

Refusing to escape with Zach, which confused Lorenzo to no end, had made Joel trust her more, and now she had more freedom. She’d started cooking, which she seemed to like, and Joel had taken to finding items for her she needed. Lorenzo watched her when Tommy was busy. Jack even made her a birdfeeder, and she liked watching the birds fly in and out. Sometimes he wondered if she longed for the freedom they had. 

Flightless bird, wings clipped her whole life, subject to the whims of men. 

Sometimes he watched them too, Blue Jay’s and Robins and other kinds he didn’t know shit about. He thought next time he saw Maria, to ask if Jackson had any bird watching books… maybe the girl would like them, help pass her time. He wanted to fly away too, he wanted to leave, leave everything and take her with him… but he wasn’t a bird. He wasn’t a bird whose wings had been clipped, he didn’t have his freedom stolen away by cruel men wanting to possess and break down something less powerful than them. 

Tommy had given up his freedom to follow Joel, his brother, the only thing he had now. Tommy knew he was a cat, once a stray and free to follow his fancy but had grown complacent and comfortable and lazy. He was a fat house cat pretending to be a lion.

Instead of saving her, he was getting his dick sucked as he listened to her moan.

It wasn’t all that loud, you really had to listen to it to hear it and God… god did he listen. Tommy was sat on his chair, legs spread, Lorenzo on his knees sucking his cock. Everyone knew Lorenzo was gay, that’s why he was allowed to watch the girl. Jack, they couldn’t figure out yet. What Tommy did know is sometimes Jack and Lorenzo fooled around with each other, and after a few weeks he got in on the action. Tommy wasn’t gay, but a mouth was a mouth. Tommy couldn’t sneak out to Maria as often as he wanted and the girl wasn’t making things easier. Joel had taken to finding dresses for her and god, did she look cute. Happier too. Smiles and laughs and fresh air did him good. From what she had told him, she’d never known peace a day in her life. Between her dads physical and sexual abuse and selling her out to man after man, just letting them beat her for money… this was comparatively peaceful now that Joel had relaxed. Still, she wore that brand on her thigh, and constant reminder that his love was conditional. Tommy wasn’t sure the reminder was working.

He tried to focus on Lorenzo, his mouth taking him deeply inside… but most importantly, her voice. In the next room, Joel was fucking her and whatever he was doing it was making her go crazy. How was Tommy supposed to know what her pussy felt like and not think about it? Not remember what it was like sliding in? Not think of her beautiful smile, still gentle and tender and patient after everything she’d been through? Everytime Joel made her moan those sweet, sweet sounds he pictured it was him, and his hips buckled up a little.

He could pretend it was her pussy if he concentrated.

*

Lorenzo knew something was up.

He loved sucking dick, would rub himself through him pants until he came every time if he knew he wasn’t getting action back, and with Tommy he didn’t. Lorenzo knew Tommy was picturing a girl when he closed his eyes, that death grip on his chair so he didn’t touch Lorenzo’s head. The shaved head would throw him off, ruin the bit for him. Still, Lorenzo opened his eyes. Tommy was focused, teetering on that edge, that wide, barrel chest of his panting and panting… He really was handsome, as was Joel, the prick. If Lorenzo was in that girls position, and he wouldn’t be because he’d fucking leave, he would run away with Tommy before spending another day with Joel. What was Tommy waiting on? He had a pretty girl that clearly loved him, that he clearly loved even if he was a man whore.

Lorenzo didn’t really have room to talk, honestly.

It wasn’t like he was cheating on Zach. They weren’t dating; Lorenzo didn’t date point blank. They were just fucking. And cuddling after. And hanging out whenever they could both sneak away… So they watched shooting stars together and talked about their moms and sisters, so what? It was just sex. He was fooling himself and he knew it, but letting go of the delusion was too painful. They’d never have a normal life so what was the point.

Tommy came in his mouth, saltier than Zach but not as strong as Jack; that strong, musky taste that was so masculine Lorenzo couldn’t help but swallow down. Even subduing himself, Tommy was loud.

When he died down, that’s when Lornzo heard it.

The girl in Joel’s room, the next one over. She was moaning.

Lorenzo didn’t mind Tommy picturing a girl. He didn’t even mind that maybe he was picturing her. But something about the fact that Tommy was getting off to the sound of that girl’s moans, a private moment, a moment which although she was clearly enjoying now, had been brought about by kidnapping and violence, disgusted him. She was just a kid to him, and yeah he could be a dick but he didn’t want to think about the horrible shit she’d been through.

“You’re fucking pathetic, Tommy!” Lorenzo stood, flustered and embarrassed and fucking angry, he headed to the door.

Dumbfounded, Tommy blinked up at him. “What? You offered!”

Lorenzo whipped around, stormed back to Tommy who had stood up and stuffed his dick back into his pants and Lorenzo fisted his hand up in Tommy’s white shirt. 

“You’d rather listen to you brother fuck that terrified child than be a fucking man and take her away. You got all these excuses but the fact of the matter is Joel matters more to you than an innocent life. When she’s dead in the ground, remember this is how you spent your time.”

He was about to let go and walk away when Tommy had to open his big mouth. “I don’t see you do’n anything to help her.”

It wasn’t rational. Lorenzo really should care this much. He wasn’t supposed to be making friends or attachments, but here he was, he cared about Zach, he cared about Jack, he cared about the girl.

Lorenzo punched Tommy square in the jaw.

*

Jack found Lorenzo outside smoking a joint. He didn’t smoke weed but he pulled out his cigarette and joined him.  “What’d you do to Tommy? The girls there icing his face.” Unfortunately, Jack knew their routine. Sex, bath, sleep. When Joel carried her, wrapped up in a towel and laughing at something Joel said or falling asleep in his arms, Jack always turned away. It didn’t matter much considering he’d seen her completely nude when Joel violently took her after charring her flesh. Sometimes he swore he could still smell it. Still, he wanted to offer a bit of dignity.

Jack didn’t pretend to be a hero like Tommy, but he didn’t put on that fake asshole defense machanism Lorenzo did. He felt for the girl, he just wasn’t going to risk his skin to help her leave. So, unlike Lorenzo he didn’t tell her she was dumb for staying, and he tried to make little things for her here and there. He was working on whittling some dominos. Unlike Tommy, he didn’t promise to whisk her away. Middle ground.

Lorenzo rolled his eyes. “He’s a dick. Joel’s probably gonna clock me.”

But Jack waved him off. “I doubt it. He ain’t running to Joel to fight his battles. If he wanted you hurt, he’d’ve hit you back.”

Lorenzo sighed, but nodded and took a fat hit. “Which being logical, it’s annoying.”

Jack just chuckled. When they were done, they walk back inside the girl was icing Tommy’s face. After she’d exited the bath with Joel, cuddled up in a ratty towel, she saw Tommy exiting his room with a swollen eye and tapped Joel. Clearly he’d dressed her, and let her tend to him while he stood, arms crossed and glaring. He tried to get Tommy to tell him who did it, but Tommy insisted it was just a small beef with one of the men, but they’d handled it.

When Jack and Lorenzo entered the living room, the girl gave Lorenzo a death glare.

That child had been beaten within an inch of her life again and again and again, forced to suffer the worst thing imaginable and yet she still managed to be so uniquely her. Bravery despite it all.

Brave little bird.

*************

thank you, thank you, a million times thank you.

and thank you to everyone whose reached out in this trying time.

Tagging people who were active reachng TWW or who still talk to me about it. If you want to be tagged for the finale celebration, lmk!

If you liked, this series, Rooms on Fire has similar vibes.

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @milla-frenchy @pimosworld @miraclesabound @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @the-fox-den @lunar-ghoulie @foggymoonbanana @dinsbaby @pedge-page @koshkaj-blog @rubyfruitjungle @gogh-with-the-flow @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @justagalwhowrites

#the wrong way series #lorenzo tag

[dobiemart]

# — 01:02, ive got my eye on you.

paring, neteyam sully x na'vi! reader

wc, around 600

wrns, uhhhhhhhhh being outside idfk, the use of the word you is irritating as shit im so sorry

notes, prob ooc but ive obviously never written for him before so please dont banish me, its also been a hot minute since ive written in general

i dont really like this fic but yawl have it cause i cant delete a story with my husband in it

the beauty surrounding every inch of pandora was enough to keep you distracted for ages. each living thing had its own story to tell, a purpose to live, a partner to share their grounds with.

you took in the scenery with great detail, noting every reaction of what eywa had created for the people to enjoy. it was very easy to get lost in the patterns of plants aligning the pathway you strode through often.

as you continued walking, alerts to something – more less someone – traversing with you became more apparent. a twig snap here, a rustled bush there, and stifled laugh or two thrown in the mix.

the sounds became closer and closer, stalking its way close near you. a small smirk couldn't help but bully its way onto your face, knowing what was to come in a matter of seconds.

you heard the creature release one last breath, before starting to charge and pounce on your tall frame before–

“don't even think about it.”

though you couldn't see, you knew his shoulders deflated after you’d recognised him, his ears and tail drooping in defeat.

“how’d you know it was me?” neteyam huffed, disappointment laced in his voice. he took a series of large steps to get in front of you, sporting a small pout to exaggerate his emotion.

“you act as if i've ever fallen for it. a different tactic would benefit you, skxawng.” you snickered back at the boy.

since you were introduced by him accidentally sneaking up on you, he'd to sneak up on you like a predatory viperwolf everytime he had the chance.

after the first time, he never succeeded, yet he tried. the determination to get one small scare from you was quite cute.

“must you always ruin my fun, y/n?" he gave a goofy smile and a huff, repositioning himself to walk beside you.

“must you always invade my walks? one day i’ll be fooled into thinking you were a pack of nantangs. 'm gonna send you to eywa early,” you jokingly scolded, emphasizing your words with a small flick, earning a slight hiss.

unlike usual, neteyam didn't retort with a sassy remark. he’d gone deathly silent. if you couldn't feel his large presence beside you, you’d think he’d gone.

turning to see what had made him quiet, you were met with his luminous eyes staring daggers into your skull. his gaze wasn't broken by being caught, instead focusing on the glint in your eyes.

“what? is there something on me, nete?” you questioned, still immensely confused from the sudden mood switch.

“no. nothing is on you, my tsahìk. i just like looking at you, that is all.” he said, as if it was common sense. it brought a sudden heat into your skin, spreading throughout your body.

you covered your mouth, not wanting to show the childish smile sprouting upon your lips. though, neteyam didn't appreciate that. he moved himself in front of you again, blocking you from continuing on the path.

looking down at your slightly smaller frame, his mothers gaze shining through, neteyam gently pulled your hand away. he needed to see your smile, knowing that he was the one that put it on your face.

“you don't ever have to hide from me, my love.” he paused shortly, wondering if he’d used the name he heard his dad use right. “i want to see you. i do see you.”

he rested his forehead against yours, gaining a sweet smile of his own when you returned his gaze.

“and i see you, neteyam.”

additional talk, wake up!! its the first fic of the month!!!

i toldd yawlll i go on hella hiatusesss... but im back because my avatar phase is reuniting for neteyam and lo'ak and jake and neytiri and did i mention neteyam and my baby daddy neteyam (if u cant tell i love neteyam.)

i cannot explain how much i love every single second of anything avatar related and im glad everybody is realizing these 10 foot motherfuckers with hourglass bodies are fuckable loveable.

there will mosttt def be more fics coming soon (and i promise ima hit those requests asap), along with my annual monthly blog revamp and such and such yada yada whatever i miss my boy and im tired goodnight.

© dobiemart 2023 — ☆ (OH MY GOD ITS 2023 JHAHSHF)

#neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x yn #neteyam #avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #i love this man sm #teehehehehr kicking my feet yawl 🙀

[dylanmunson]

baby parker - eddie munson

maybe a little series in the making?

masterlist | baby Parker series list

next

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

Sun beaming down on you as you carry the last box into you new home, its not much but its enough for you and little one. 

You dont have a lot of boxes/things but its enough, and its yours and her’s. 

You had given birth just under two months ago, and your parents being the way they are decided now would be a good time for you to move out, sure they had helped with some funding but nothing else, you were on mat leave from work, having only just finished high school the year before, you sit on the small sofa taking baby girl in your arms. 

Her little body wrapped in a vest type onesie, since the weather was warming up, it being the end of May, summer coming in full swing, you look at the boxes that sit everywhere around the trailer and sigh softly. 

“just me and you baby girl, just me and you” you mumble kissing her forehead as she looks up at you. Her father having left as soon as you told him you were pregnant, you didn’t expect anything less though, you made it work. You had enough savings to buy the main things and your parents helped when they wanted to. 

Little Parker now causing a tiny fuss, as its coming up to feeding time, you move your top so she can latch onto your nipple and drink away before she’s falling back to sleep in your arms, you put her in her little cot before starting to unpack some of the things in the kitchen, deciding to unpack the things you’ll need and the rest can wait. 

You wake up in the night to a fussing parker and metal music coming from one of your new neighbours. You sigh softly, moving your top down for parker to latch on again as she quickly falls back to sleep against you, you sit in bed with baby close to your chest, her unlatching after a few minutes but snuggling into your chest, the music not stopping but re starting, the same song again and again. You lay your head back on the bed and sigh, sleep being the last thing on your mind now as you watch parker sleep peacefully in your arms, Truth be told, she wasn’t a bad sleeper it was more you who couldn’t sleep or stay asleep. You keep her cuddled to your chest a little longer before putting her in her bed, grabbing the baby monitor and going to the front door to get some fresh air, you sit on the steps with the door open, monitor in hand as you listen to the metal music which is coming from the trailer opposite yours. 

The next day, Parker has a check up with the midwife, you put her into her baby carrier and then into the car before going round to the drivers side and turning the car on. but it doesn’t turn on. It roars to life before coughing out a little smoke and going dead. You sigh and put your head into your hands “fuck fuck fuck” you groan hitting the wheel. tap tap tap 

You look out the window and see a boy with curly hair grinning at you, you sigh and open the door “so your the new neighbour, hi im eddie” he chuckles holding his hand out, “look i dont want to come across rude its just ive got a midwife appointment in like 10minutes that’s downtown, and my car won’t start and” you start rambling on, eddie just grins at you “want me to take a look at it?” “would you?” he nods “yeah course” he grins before lifting the hood and taking a look. 

“batteries dead love” he smiles softly “not a problem though, could get it fixed for ya, i uh i work at the repair shop just outside of town” he smiles putting the hood down. You nod and look at the man, “that’s great i just” you sigh “im not working today buuuut” he smiles “i could tow her down for ya” he grins leaning against the door as you sit facing him. “that’d be great, how much roughly would it cost? fuck i still need to get to” “hey hey” he grins “i can take you? then i can take this into the shop as well” he smiles, patting the roof of the car “i couldn’t” you start he shrugs “its honestly not a problem” he starts as parker starts to fuss in her seat. “im y/n by the way” you sigh getting out the car and grabbing parkers car seat. “and this is parker” you mumble giving her, her dummy back as she had dropped it. “hey p” he grins down at the baby in the chair, she looks up at him with wide eyes watching his every movement. “shall we?” he grins you nod “thank you eddie, i uh i’ll pay you back” you sigh as he shows you to his truck. 

“not a problem sweetheart, couldn’t have couldn’t have baby park not going to her appointment hey” he grins as pokes the babies belly, she grins up at the man, her dummy falling out of her mouth again as she lets out a little sound of amusement.  

Munson taglist @alicefallsintotherabbithole @onlydruig @tenderhornynihilist @itsyouimagines @witchsbitchestime @kyomiite @girl-with-an-orange-cat @flatoust11 @udontcarethisshit @chloepricerk800 @kellysimagines @caitfrogs @get-me-to-wonderland @bdpst-massacre @lagataprrr @goldenharrysworld @oo0lady-mad0oo @presidential-facts @qu7nn @pleasantlycrazyworld @ladyapplejackdnd @meaganjm @dixontardis @megsrose @chaos-incorp @sourbutcalm143 @lieblingsmenzch @kbakery @stcastwh00re @greatfandomsgalore @eddies-gf-86 @mariar597 @lothiriel9 @lesliemcawesome @chrisevansmarvelmcu @zdarie @notbeforelong @jayy-sins @witchy-bisexual   @witchsbitchestime

#eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson fic #dylanmunson #mine #baby parker fic

[ourstoriedinsight]

Audio Drama Sunday IV

Alright! Back again! Skipped last week as I went on a binge of Non-fiction history podcasts as is my occasional habit. This week however I resumed my audio fiction engagements with a fervor.

Edge of my seat week to week listens wise this was another win for @innbetween where I have to be a bit sneaky about spoilers since most y'all won't have access yet. This one gave me some chills as Max's character brought to mind some bosses I worked for in the past whom I am glad I am not working for now. Whereas previous adventuring parties were faster to making solid friendships of fate and circumstance this bunch remains first and foremost co-worker relationships which has opened the door wonderfully to working with themes of different types of ableism. I come from a decently cut throat industry myself and that whole "What good are you if you can't..." is a huge thing we need to talk more about as a society. Having party members we feel a little more gray about is a neat shift of dynamic too which I wholeheartedly approve of which has left me hoping either the arc carries everyone to a better wiser place ... or delivers some much needed kicks to the gems for bad behavior by way of catharsis.

My binge listen continues to be Spirit Box Radio where I have hit season 3 at last! The Host/ Creator/ Voice Actor of the show seems to be going through a testosterone based transition which I got to admit I am enjoying vicariously more than I probably should. My circumstances have taken a T transition off the table for me personally so when I encounter someone going through one I get fairly excited myself noting the changes. How deep Sam's voice will be by the end of the series is like an added bit of delightful mystery. On it's more narrative based merits however Spirit Box Radio continues to delight. There's an evolving ruminative quality to the story with leaps and bounds of development just when the slow drip of progress in the mystery starts to stretch the tension to the breaking point. Big changes in the status quo that then must be weighed and understood and considered starting the cycle anew. Pacing wise it's the cautious and moderate person's approach to danger which feels fairly true to life. It's something that works best in podcast format which makes it feel more fresh than the more common arc of act/react. Things must be digested in their own time and lately particularly I have been finding that slower pace is a welcome change from instant gratification.

Editing log of the week is fairy empty as I have finished the second draft of the season Finale and am taking a breather before doing the finalizing process. After this I get a nice two month vacay from all things audio to sharpen up my resolve for the next season and start making our backlog for the airing of season 2. I'm so close to relaxing I can feel it!

#ttrpg #podcasts #actual play #audio fiction #audio drama #audio drama sunday #audiodramasunday #audiodrama #inn between #spirit box radio

[brainrotallthewaydown1312]

my friend just got me into Ted lasso earlier this month. slightly before 3×10 came out. it's already one of my favorite shows, which took me by surprise. the only sports shows I've ever liked before have been anime. technically i am half way through season 2 but I'm online so ive seen a lot of spoilers. including how they just handled the ot3 in the finale. and i have a couple thoughts.

before we started the first episode, one of my friends selling points was "there is an ot3 that might actually have a shot at going canon by the end and the end is soon" and before seeing any of it my answer was "you already sold me but don't get your hopes up. it's still made by two massive studios and studios are pussies. and then i watched the first episode and she showed me some clips of Roy and Jamie later in the series and some actor interview clips to explain the ot3 better and i said "I'll tell you exactly what is going to happen. they are going to pull a korrasami. it looks like the writers are writing towards it and the actors and everyone wants it to go that way, but they are at best going to get an episode close to the end where their 'friendship' develops with a few hints and then at the very end of the last episode they will throw an ambiguous bone that could go either way. because that is as far as those studios will allow" and i was exactly right. exactly fucking right.

and I'm happy we got as much as we did with them. it feels like the type of representation you get from a Hollywood movie in the 50s. subtextual but easily readable with a trained eye. and it feels natural for their development. even with the backslide of the fistfight. because real growth isn't linear and theirs has never been either. this feels like a very natural place for them to end and it feels like they are at the start of something that they as characters don't quite understand yet.

but there is a part of me that is still disappointed. the same way part of me was disappointed when i finished leverage and got korrasami'd by that ot3. it's always left ambiguous with polyamory. it's either an ambiguous ending that will go under the studios radar or it's basically a porn from the start (not that there is anything wrong with that side of it either, i just want more variety) Dani got to have 2 girlfriends. and they looked happy. and they were there for a few seconds and they were gone. and we don't know them. Roy and Jamie and Keeley have been at the center of the show since the start and they have been growing towards it the whole time. they deserve something more than being happy together at a celebration. something concrete. something that acknowledges where they are with each other properly.

I'm elated that we weren't told no. I'm elated that Keeley didn't let them make her choose. I'm elated that they looked happy in the end. that they were close. that something that would have been several episodes of drama in season 1 was solved with "fuck we're stupid".

but I'm devastated that it's happened again. that the comfort of the cishet target audience was valued over the narrative value of their growth together. that it's entirely my decision what the ending means yet again. that even in a show that has been bold with it's queer representation, polyamory with actual narrative strength and value is a step too far. that i fell into the same trap I've been falling into since i was a little kid watching avatar. that i saw it coming and was still hit with the full force of it. and I'm so tired.

but i can't wait to get properly caught up. i know it will be a gut punch, but i still love every second with these three. and with everyone else. this show has taken me by surprise in so many ways

#roy x keeley x jamie #ted lasso #ted lasso 3×10 #ted lasso spoilers #roy kent #jamie tartt #keeley jones #ted lasso ot3 #polyamory representation

[tera-91]

More word salad

I know I just posted today, maybe yesterday depending on when I decide to post this. I was torn. What should I do with my time? If the last several days were any hint I probably wouldn’t be getting to sleep anytime soon.

I could be productive. I could go to my computer to do one of many things.

I could edit my youtube videos. But Im stuck. The video Im working on got a little garbled. The video is there but the audio is either lost or im not sure where it goes as I recorded it in several sessions. Unfortunately, I cant scrap it as it is part of a series and the remaining videos I recorded follow that. Should I just skip it for now and at least get the follow up videos edited?

I don’t really want to do that as I just spent im not sure how long. At least a few hours recording more of the series today. Im a bit spent on the topic.

I could go to my computer to work on another project but that would require talking. There is so much background noise as I live with other people. It wont work. Or at least I feel like it wont. That and I don’t really feel like talking in general. Its times like this that I wish I lived alone. I could make sure there was no background noise. Or at least no one would ask me why Im up at 3 in the morning talking to myself.

I could go to my computer to write. Which I am doing that but I mean should probably work on scripts. I want to do other content than what Im doing now and it would require scripts. Ive done it before but it takes so long to write, check over the script, record it, edit the audio as sometimes its takes a few tries at a line and then edit the video. If I did that I would only release a video every month, maybe every other month. Which doesn’t work for building a channel.

I could write a story. But what kind of story? I feel like I haven’t watch sanders sides in such a long time. Or at least I feel like I have lost touch with how I feel the characters personalities are like. Same thing about the ninja turtles. Its been forever and a day since I watched any of the series. Or the movies. It makes me want to just go on my phone and go down a rabbit hole of watching those things over again to get a feel of the personalities. But do I want to do that? I want to get off of just watching endless videos and get productive. Or do I write it anyway? I remember seeing stories before where the author puts ooc for a particular character. Specifically saying that the character is written in a way that is not how they are written canonically. Maybe I should just do that.  

I might do that after I finish writing this. Hey at least over 500 words is a start at something. Even if it is just a word salad of a map in my brain. A map that has been ripped to pieces and somehow transferred to there pieces of paper so some things are inverted and one is trying to put it back together. Probably by the time I am done with this it will be nearly 800 words. A thousand if I am lucky. Something to get my brain started. I loved writing out quick stories thinking they would just be 800 words or less and then they turned into 1500, 2000, sometimes even over 3000 words.

I read nearly all the stories I posted on here today while I had to wait for something. It was as if those words didn’t come from me. Like I wasn’t the writer and I was reading the story for the first time. Im not sure if that is a good thing or a bad thing. Like I remember writing them, the titles familiar and all but its like I cant believe I wrote them. I don’t know where they came from. But the mild EMBARASSMENT I felt. Maybe its not embarrassment. Im not completely sure of the word but I felt I guess like I shouldn’t be reading them in public even though theres nothing bad or risqué in them. Although some spelling mistakes I realized while reading them were completely embarrassing. But the fluffiness of what I would write. I have no idea where that came from or how to get back to it. It almost made me feel sad. Or maybe disappointed too. The amount of time that has passed. Seeing comments of people wanting to be tagged in a story. I feel like I let them down because I didn’t continue with it. If I continued with it or even started it over and tagged them would they still be interested?

Wow writing that all down makes it sound like I am so sad or depressed. Hell I might be a little depressed. Mostly just disappointed maybe of where I am. A little frustration to. Feeling like my hands are figuratively tied. Wanting something so bad while not wanting it at the same time. Like Im self sabatoging myself while still wishing I had something that I currently don’t. But I swear I am not in the sense that Ive dealt with a time before that was worse than this. I mean literally depressed that I didn’t take a shower but once a week, just went to school and didn’t do nothing else with my days but do homework and laid in my bed. I just feel that if I don’t write this and post it I haven’t done anything. I haven’t started anything. These posts are nothing but pebbles to be moved out of the way so that larger mind boulders can be set free. To open a flood of stories and motivation that I know I have. I feel like I have lost my place but I want to get it back. I want to get myself in a better situation. Don’t get me wrong my situation is not bad I know people have it worse. I just want it to be what is better for me. I have been off and on writing a book for a long time. Longer than I want to admit. I met an author last year. I was lucky to ask for advise and get an answer. He said that I need to bury that book. Write a million words. Come back to that book a better writer. Im not sure how many words my other post was but this post will be atleast another 1000+ words towards that one million. Stream of consciousness writing to figure things out.

Well, I hope everyone had a good April 1! It is so hard to believe that it is April already. Pretty soon it will be my favorite time of year. Here comes the spooky season and no one can tamp down my excitement for what is to come in the fall. If I could I would live where there is perpetual fall weather. Halloween town if it was a physical place I could live. Play almost nothing but spooky season movies and tv shows. Oh you best believe that Lisa Frankenstein is a current fixation of mine. As soon as that comes out on DVD I will have my hands on it so fast and it will be on repeat for DAYS. I will probably watch it the first oh 10 times it plays and about every third time after that at least until Beetlejuice Beetlejuice comes out.

#tera-91 #sanders sides #tmnt #writing #rant #rant post #vent post #venting #blog #thoughts #feelings #inner thoughts #stream of consciousness

[princess-pill-enjoyer]

Would I seem like less of a liar if I deleted the previous post? 💀💀💀

I'm doing a whooole lot better so ima explain myself

Notice in advance though it's not very related to my pills. It's just been a whole lot.. and seeing how I talk about all my personal shit here already it didn't feel too out of place. I've actually been relatively pill free for the last like month or so. Anyway I'll stop this intro here lol. Shits long enough as is

Well what pissed me off to make me want to go ghost was a combo of getting scammed plus R being on some bullshit..

The first bit I kinda walked into. That was that whole situation where I slowly gave out like $50 to this trans woman. I didn't even notice until a few days later but she blocked me soon after I said I couldn't help for a while. I don't know what brain cells evaporated from my brain but if I had noticed the signs earlier maybe I would be $50 richer rn..

The second bit uh. Let's just cut a long story short atp. R has been being a dick to me for a while now so I finally wasn't able to repress my annoyance and I said something slightly snippy. She got sad annd I got mad. Time skip, ghosted her and pretty much everyone else, fully expecting to never speak to her again. Nother time skip, we're back talking.

If I seem kinda over it, it's cause I am lmfao

I think seeing how she changed and reacted during that period where she was upset really changed things for me. Not to sound like that, but I have a lot of.. for lack of better wording "issues" around people switching up. And it's really important to me! Ive been weary of that shit since i was in elementary school. I used to get bullied and ostracized a lot as a kid. And after a combo of parential/friendship drama, I decided I never wanted to feel like I'm ever in a situation where I have to be useful to be loved. I don't want to be in position where anyone can dangle their affection over my head at a whim. Which is all I've felt towards everything since. Even when I was really there begging her to work things out, I did it anyway because I felt like I knew she'd do the same if it ever came down to it. But seeing just how much I've been trying to juggle in silence.. how much I've asked of her over and over again with little change.. it just didn't feel mutual anymore.

Well.. wrong wording. That's something I've had to accept for a while now. I meant our friendship in general atp. I've been the odd man out for so long now. I guess it's our history that does it tbh. You know how with newer friends you'll do a lot more with em? But with older friends youre much more comfortable saying no cause you know they arent going anywhere? It really shouldn't be this extreme tbh but like it ISS. Like I've asked to play 100x different things now, I've tried to watch series together, alllll types of shit. And she never agrees. We never talk or hangout for the fun of it anymore. Actually, I don't think we've actually any real hanging out doing something together purely because we wanted to hang in over 7 months. Everything else has just been us talking about one thing or another or something happening and it just being the after part. Don't get me wrong, I love being able to have an actual conversation way more than being able to play games with her. Though, when hanging out is something you plain out won't go out your way at all to do but you can hurriedly go back to do allll the time with your casual friends and acquaintances? Changed my mind so quick once i realized. I'm just holding onto memories now. Just like my ex and just like my ex best friend. The whole situation reminding me of those two made my emotions towards the thing feel a lot more cut and dry tbh

I started feeling this way when she played me at a moment that honestly.. was the most vulnerable I've ever been. It's a rule I've had since I was a child and have never broken before. Yet here I am, breaking it for no real reason. If anything, me doing that made her be even worse to me

I've been on and off talking with her now. She refriended me on one of our main platforms a little while back. I've only recently took her off mute. I think a day ago now. We talked talked today and it felt exactly like it did way back then. It was almost comical. She said so many cruel things to me and made me feel like an idiot for.. well shoot for nothing atp. Did all that to not even a full 3 months later move onto the next best thing. The complete 360 is what finally sealed it for me. I've been thinking on what my begging meant for days and weeks now slowly edging to this conclusion

Im done.

I got so much anger and nastiness spewed at me time and time again with not even an acknowledgement that it happened

Im just supposed to magically know this perfect fucking timing of how long i need to stay away without staying away for tooooo long to not scare you. And when I get it wrong? Oh don't worry! She'll make sure I know it :))

Its really my fault for letting it get this bad.. I knew it wasnt right for her to be a dick to everyone off of a breakup but i mean.. if the ex was that important to you, it makes sense. If it were still like that, I'd still be taking it now tbh. Why stress her out when she clearly has 1000 other things on her mind? But the cycle repeated right before my eyes it brings up so many questions..

Why cant i get the same courtesy you show to anyone else?

Where was that healing when just a month ago i was a pest for checking in?

God. It's not even like I'm asking for much! I continued doing what I do even when i wasn't getting that same care back. Ive gotten so messed up i can barely comprehend wth is going around me. Ive been on and off sleep for days at a time. I've watched my whole future crumble before my eyes. Ive wven thought about and attempted to kill myself. Alllll that.. yet ive never once used it as an excuse to treat you poorly. I have the common fucking courtesy to own up to ts and not act like any of that makes it okay to disrespect you

It honestly doesn't matter either way. All I know is I'm so tired of getting treated worse than any of her friends and I'm tired of all the fucking gymnastics that she still expects me to do with no complaint. That shits over. I'm not letting yet another person drop off and pick up wherever they feel like with not even a thought about how I'll feel

I feel really numb towards her now. I still have some of it leftover tbh so I wont say I'm OVER her. I still got hype talking to her again and it being not complicated for once. And i do still check her socials a lot. But I will say, I think I've fallen out of love at the very least

I still don't want her to suffer or anything because she is one of the kindest and most charming people you'll ever meet when she wants to be. She would bend over backwards to help out or make someone feel good. She just has to be in the right mood for it. I've seen her give shit away on this game she loves just to help a new player out. I've listened to her check on everyone in her house even when she felt like straight garbage purely cause she knew they all were expecting her to. Just incase one of em was waiting on that to vent or something. She really does have a good heart

Buuut when she doesn't want to/doesn't have to do all that? She's still cordial most of the time. Don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to paint her out to be some nasty person behind closed doors. She really isn't. Even when she's upset, she mostly is still kind, just a little short. But every once in a while, it'll be a big enough issue where she doesn't even feel like pretending to be in a good mood.. and that's her problem. She's so damn cruel once she's that upset. I get it ofc. Which is why I just put up with it for so long

When I was going through the slow realization that my days at my uni were numbered, I was a hugely bitter person. Huuuugely. But even with the mere joy of the other freshman was pissing me off, I never took that out on anyone but me. I was never rude or snarky to anyone there. Even when they were to me lmfao. It just made no sense to take it out on them

R doesn't consider that enough. She goes off tbe handle as soon as it's inconvenient for her not to. Though she's all smiles for people anyone that doesn't know her fr, she'll come back to all the people that love her and put then through the ringer

I cant take that shit anymore.

So now a little over a year after I started feeling something towards her in the first place and coming on a year after I realized what exactly I felt for her, I think I'm now throwing in the towel on all that. Just can't do it. I won't turn my life upside down for someone that can't even bother to keep my feelings in mind some days.

I dont hate her or anything at all. I'm still her friend. But until she learns how to better express herself, I don't want her any closer than a friend. Being close to her is painful dude. I'll never treat her any worse for that. I just have to keep my guard up now. I can't let her get that close to me again. Not with how she is now

I wrote that weeks ago if im being honest

And alots happened since then..

I feel like a hypocrite now. I blocked her without a peep. Even continued playing and talking with other friends and posted not thinking nothing of it. It's been a nice what.. I think coming up on 2 weeks now. I've missed her a lot. I still think of her everyday but at the same point it turned into a matter of principle. I won't even lie, if things went my way, she would either be coming to me through alllll the other methods she used to use when she actually cared to have my attention or she would be getting left in the past. But through my scattered thinking and talk with another good friend made me realize how selfish it was. Complained about her treating me worse than she would a complete random, and yet here I am damn near rubbing it in her face that I'm specifically not talking to her and her only. I feel awful for it now.

I tried to reach back out but she understandably is ignoring me too now. I think she blocked me on a few diff platforms, including my phone number.. I feel awful for doing that to her now. She's an ass at times but she's still been a really good friend to me and I hate that I lashed out without thinking of her feelings, even if it was justified ig. I'm just gonna give her space for now. Shit it took me damn near two weeks of radio silence and thinking for me to stop being angry with her

A few days later lol

We are.. in the clear? Not really honestly. We're still very distant feeling and I genuinely can't imagine ever trusting her the way I have in the past.. but it went over smoother than I thought. I know she's still upset with me, whether she wants to admit it or not. All those months of us spilling each and every thought to each other made it very easy to read her. I can't tell what exactly she's feeling, but she's hiding something.

It really kills me. I can see it plain and clear and I'd love to talk it over, but it's not really my place anymore is it? That's been the most difficult part of all this. I don't really understand how to keep a distance without coming off cold. I care about her and all but at the same point, it'd be extremely stupid to try to get her to open up while also tryna stay closed off myself. Recipe for disaster. Maybe someday she'll bring it up, but for now, I just have to pretend I don't see it

I'm very grateful to her still. She taught me a lot and she is a really good friend. I know if I ever seriously needed her she wouldn't flake on me and she's helped me so many times throughout our friendship. It's really the only reason I went back to us. It felt like a dick move to just ghost and act like her being mean sometimes completely overshadows all the good she brings. Plus I did promise I wouldn't. My feelings being hurt isn't a reason to break that promise imo. I'll stay in her life for as long as she allows it

Though that being said, she's not my best friend anymore. I don't even consider her a close friend atp. I aint gon play her or anything. Im still willing to talk about why I left and what I've been hiding for now. But once the dust settles.. she'll be treated like allllll my other friends. They don't get dogged out or anything but ya know ofc it's very different. I just don't trust her anymore

The thought of us talking through everything and finally hanging out just to hang out makes me paranoid. Will she drop me like she did when she got serious about her ex? Is she gonna be that mean everytime she has a breakup? Is she gone take my happiness the wrong way atp? Should I already preemptively be limiting my talking time with her?

Too many damn questions..

Which is why i think that's that saga done for now. I doubt she'll want to talk about it so I'm just gonna let it simmer out itself ig. I love her sm. I hate that I can't just slap the rose tinted glasses back on. She deserves someone like that. She's truly a gem once you get past all her walls. If I were stronger, I would still be chasing after her now. But after months of unsatisfying resolutions and unspoken tension, ive finally reach a point where I just can't take the hurt from it all 🤷‍♀️

Ah damn it's been tearing me up though. I've never experienced any of this bs before. I hope someday we can both get back to a place where I can consider letting her back in. I miss that time a lot. Dang ik I aint crying rn 🗿

#excessively long #vent #sorry again for flying off the handle again

[darkmulti]

King of Hell

BTS

Series : part 1

Pairing: demon!Jungkook x human!Female Reader x demon!Taehyung x demon!Jimin

Genre: Angst & Smut

Word Count: 4.3K

CONTAINS DARK THEMES!

PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! READ WARNINGS CAREFULLY!

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A/N: SHAIWJW, IVE BEEN “WRITING” THIS FIC SINCE LAST YEAR, HOLY FUCK. Anyways I hope you enjoy this shitty story:)

These are the warnings for the entire series!! This is a dark fanfic that is not meant for everyone! If these warnings trigger you, please leave!!

Smut Warning(s): multiple smuts, cockwarming, face slapping, saliva kink, thigh riding, humiliation, heavy degradation, dacryphilia kink, threesome, anal, blowjob, somnophilia kink, mirror sex, choking, spanking, hair pulling, rough sex, mix of ddlg, sleep sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, begging, small bits of praising, marking, fear kink, cum shots, cum eating

Other Warning(s): possessive!Jungkook, blood, murder, torture, physical abuse, Stockholm Syndrome, submissive reader

I’m probably missing something...

THIS FIC CONTAINS NON CONSENSUAL SEX! PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

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Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew this was wrong. But did she care?

No.

The girl laid supine on her boss's desk, sore legs bound around his torso, caging him in. His hand gently kneads her sensitive breast, earning soft moans from her. She grabbed his tie and tugged on it until he leaned down and passionately kissed her. The man gently pulled her up and swiftly wrapped his shapely arms around her body. She pulled away first, eager to catch her breath.

The excessive tension in the overheated room was unbearable. Her head remained low in embarrassment while her boss burned her with his gaze. To break up the tension, she awkwardly clears her throat and hops off his desk. For some reason, she desperately wanted to apologize but stopped herself. From what she remembers, her boss was undressing her with his eyes, so she let him have it. Deciding she’s not going to apologize, she frantically pulled up her skirt and opened the door to leave.

However, her boss was faster than her and instantly closed it again. He cupped her cheeks and attempted to kiss her again, but she stepped away. “I’m sorry, Dr. Kim. It’s getting late and my apartment is far from here, so I better get going. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Taehyung scowled at her. It was insulting to him. No one has ever rejected his touch. He grabbed the hem of her shirt and flung her onto his desk. She groaned in pain, protecting her injured side. Taehyung clutched her face and attached his lips onto hers, kissing her like it was his last time. She instinctively kicked her legs at him, but that made him more belligerent.

“Stop! Leave me alone!” She yelled, throwing her hands against his chest, trying to get him off. Unfortunately, she was no match for him. Taehyung pinned her down without a struggle and pulled her skirt down again. “I tried being nice, princess. But now you’ve gotten on my nerves.” He growled, forcing his cock in, despite her screaming at him to stop.

A sadistic smirk appears on his face as he picks up his pace. His warm cock fitted inside of her perfectly. It was like they were made for each other. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, enjoying the feeling to the fullest. While Taehyung was on cloud nine, the girl was bawling her eyes out underneath him. “T- Taehyung! Stop! It h- hurts!” She sobbed uncontrollably, breath hitching. Her vision started to blur as she felt her energy drain out of her writhing body. She's never endured this much pain.

Taehyung grunts as he pushes himself forward one last time before cumming in her. “Fuck! You feel so good, baby.” He leaned down and licked her tears away. He then created a trail of hickeys along her jawline, down to her collar bone. “How about another round, babe?”

“No, no! Please, no! It hurts!” She hiccuped, putting her hands together. “Please, Dr. Kim. I’ll do anything except for this! I c- can give you money… if you’d like.” Taehyung couldn’t help himself. Watching her beg for mercy was a turn on. “I don’t need your filthy money, slut. Now stay still or else you're fired.”

He ruthlessly entered in again. She let out a painful whimper but didn’t dare to move because her job was on the line. Taehyung held her hips down and quickened his pace. The helpless girl was fighting off the urge to push him away with all her remaining strength. Soon enough, her legs trembled on their own as ripples of forced pleasure went through her body. More tears gathered in her fearful eyes. A minute passed, she was still sprawled on his desk, catching her breath. “C- can I pl- please leave now?” She faintly whispered, on the verge of passing out.

Taehyung pulled her ragged skirt up then pulled her upright. He moved her hair out of her face and tenderly caressed her cheek, admiring her face. “You won’t tell anyone about this, understand?” She sobbed but nodded her head. “Good… get your stuff, I’ll drive you home.”

“No, sir. It’s okay. I’ll call a taxi. You can go home.” Taehyung’s eyes darkened. He grabbed her neck and squeezed it. “You’re making me repeat myself, Y/N. You out of all people should know how much I hate doing that. Now for the last time, get your shit and I’ll drive you home.” He took a step back and followed her to her office. She quickly grabbed her purse and jacket, then they both headed out.

The car ride home was silent. She didn't dare to speak a word. Not after what he did to her. All she could do is keep her head down and play with the hem of her shirt. Taehyung glanced over at her here and there, but he too didn’t speak a word. He looked in his rear view mirror and spotted his best friend sitting in the back, staring at “his” girl. “Keep your eyes off of her. She’s already taken, Jungkook.”

Y/N flinched when Taehyung started talking. “Huh? Are you talking to me?” She asked, confused. Red flags were popping up but she couldn’t exactly jump onto the highway. She bit down on her lip and waited for a response. “Took you a while to detect my presence, Taehyung. I thought you could do better.” She immediately turned around and saw a man sitting in the middle seat, legs spread apart. His long, jet-black hair almost veiled his eyes, and he was covered in tattoos. “Who the hell are you?!” She slightly yells, clearly startled by the man. “I wouldn’t raise my voice if I were you, sweetheart. Anyone who disrespects me will regret it for the rest of their life and afterlife.” Jungkook mockingly said, confusing the girl even more. She turned to Taehyung for an explanation, but he simply rested his hand on her thigh. “Calm down, angel. I won’t let him hurt you.”

“Bold of you to say that, Taehyung. You really think you can take me on?” Jungkook challenged.

“To keep her by my side, I’d knock you over without hesitation.” Taehyung said with a dull expression on his face.

“Don’t tell me you have feelings for this girl. Man, you keep letting me down. First living in the mortal world and now, falling in love. What’s next? Marriage? Family planning? Pathetic, Kim Taehyung. If Jimin were here, he’d be laughing his ass off.”

“If you have nothing nice to say, leave. I thought you didn’t enjoy the mortal world.”

“I don’t, I just wanted to see what my dearest friend is up to. I’m astonished, however. You managed to keep that unpleasant side of yours a secret.”

Taehyung glanced at his girl. Her face was pale and if you looked closely, she was shaking. Taehyung stroked her thigh in a soothing manner, signinally her to calm down. Out of fear, she clings to Taehyung’s hand tightly. This didn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook. He sensed her fear the moment she sat in the car. He enjoyed watching her crumble apart in the passenger seat. She looked vulnerable and afraid, he wanted to ruin her innocent looking face.

“Stop gawking at my girlfriend, Kook. Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“No, I actually don’t. Next month, I’ll be announced king, but until then, I’ll hang around you and this lovely princess.”

From that point on, Taehyung knew he couldn’t leave her alone. If he did, Jungkook would 100% hurt her or even worse, mark her as his own. Jungkook’s one selfish bastard. He will always put himself before others. Taehyung immediately knew Jungkook was attracted to her; he could tell just by observing the way Jungkook looked at her. But he wasn’t going to let Jungkook have her too. Originally, Taehyung was supposed to be king, but Jungkook was stubborn and wanted to fight for the title. Taehyung didn’t want to fight his best friend, so he willingly surrendered.

30 minutes later, he finally arrived at her apartment. She quietly thanked Taehyung for the ride, then got out. However, Taehyung turned off his engine and got out of his car. “I’m staying with you tonight.” Without question, she nodded her head and grabbed Taehyung’s hand. She was terrified of what was going on. Of course she wanted an explanation, but Taehyung seemed to be protecting her. Therefore, she thought it’d be the best to stay with him until she knows exactly what’s going on.

She opened her apartment door and set her purse and jacket on the table. “I’m gonna go shower… Make yourself at home... I guess.” She mumbled the last part and headed to her bathroom until Taehyung stopped her. “Mind if I join?” Taehyung hinted he needed to talk to her so she said yes. Meanwhile, Jungkook plopped down on the couch with his arm behind his head. “Got any bourbon?” He yelled and she responded, “the cabinet behind you has all the liquor I own.”

Taehyung pulled her into the bathroom and hugged her tightly. “I’m sorry! I fucked everything up for you.”

“Taehyung, what are you talking about?” She worriedly asked. Taehyung looked at the door then quickly turned the shower on. “We have to be quiet. He might hear us.” “Please tell me what’s going on! Who is he? How did he get inside your car?!” She whispers as calmly as she can. “His name is Jeon Jungkook. Next month, he'll be announced king of hell. He’s a very powerful demon and currently, he’s looking for his queen. Someone who can be the mother of his children and someone he can somewhat tolerate. Y/N, he has his eyes on you. You need stay around me, so I can protect you. I know I hurt you not too long ago, but trust me on this one. Jungkook has anger issues and if he gets a hold of you, you will be his punching bag for eternity.”

“Demon? King of hell? Are you hearing yourself right now?” She whispers louder, being unable to control her anger and concern. “I’m not lying, Y/N. How else did he get into my car. Do you remember our conversation in the car? He said he didn't like the human world.”

“What about you? What are you?!”

“I’m a demon too.”

“Prove it because I don’t believe-” Taehyung towers over her and his eyes turn black. His teeth become insanely sharp and black, thick horns start coming out of his head. She stood there, staring at his true form. She reached out and touched his cheek which was freezing cold. “Demons are real?” She faintly whispered. “Take your clothes off. He’s coming.” Taehyung’s out of his clothes in a blink of an eye but she didn’t want to remove her clothes. Taehyung heard Jungkook getting closer, so he ripped her clothes off and pushed her in the shower. He followed behind and pinned her against the wall, kissing her forcefully. “He’s looking through the door, pretend you're enjoying it so we're unsuspicious.” She surprisingly listens and returns the kiss. Taehyung picks her up, and she wraps her legs around his waist, allowing him to enter her. “Moan loud for me, baby.” The girl digs her nails into his shoulder and releases her needy moans.

Jungkook was standing in the door way, watching Taehyung fuck the living out of her. What he would do to be in his position. A part of Jungkook was telling him to kill Taehyung and take his place. However, the other half of him knew that it would create a war between the Kim’s and the Jeon’s. Centuries of feuds have been going on between the two families and it finally ended when Taehyung’s father made a peace offering and Jungkook’s dad happily accepted. From there on, Taehyung and Jungkook grew up together as best friends. Jungkook stopped himself from making a big mistake but continued watching the two fuck.

Taehyung came in her one last time before pulling out and cleaning her up with some water. She clung onto Taehyung because she had no more feeling in her legs. Her clit was burning from the overstimulation, but she wasn’t complaining because it felt so good. He carried her back to her room and wiped her body off with a towel. Jungkook went back to the couch and tried to relax his mind. For some reason, her moans kept playing in his head and before he knew it, he was hard. “Shit!” He angrily muttered.

After tucking Y/N in, Taehyung came to the living room to see what Jungkook was doing. Jungkook was leaning on the balcony railing, staring at the full moon. “If you want, you can crash at my place.” Taehyung said, fiddling with his house keys. “Nah, I think I’ll stay right here… By the way, your girlfriend is hot. If she ever wants to have a threesome, tell her-”

“She doesn’t, Jungkook. One man is good enough for her.”

“That’s too bad. Well, tell her if she gets tired of you she can come to me any time and anywhere.” Jungkook cockishly smiled, raising one eyebrow. “Stop with the jokes, will you?” Taehyung's voice got deeper because he’s had enough of Jungkook’s irritating comments. “I’m going to bed now. Sleep on the couch or wander on the street, I don’t care. Just don’t kill anyone.” Taehyung said before leaving Jungkook alone on the balcony. “I'll try not to.”

Taehyung opened the door and saw Y/N struggling to fall asleep. He quickly got into her bed and pulled her into his comforting embrace. “Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here now.” He carefully laid her face on his chest then ran his fingers through her smooth hair. “I love you so much. You don’t even know how long I’ve been watching you.”

“How long?” She whispers back. “First year of university was when I first saw you. Ever since then, I’ve been looking out for you.” She giggled and wrapped her arms around his body. “Why didn’t you talk to me?” Taehyung smiled, remembering why. “I’m a little shy.” She climbed up his chest and kissed him on the lips. “Is he gone?” She asked, tracing lines on Taehyung’s chest. “He’s gonna crash on your couch. Sorry about him, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay.”

Soon, silence took over the room and the girl fell asleep on Taehyung’s chest. Taehyung continued to play with her hair and trace her back until the door slightly opened. He saw Jungkook in the doorway and sighed. “What do you want now?”

“Her.”

Everything happened rapidly. The door swung open and all Taehyung saw were 2 red eyes staring him down. Before he could react, Jungkook knocked him out and pinned the girl’s body down. He entered into her sore cunt, causing her to wake up. As soon as she saw Jungkook’s face, she started to scream and fight. “Stop! Taehyung, help me!” She shook Taehyung’s body, but he was unresponsive. “What did you do to him?!”

“Shut up and cooperate with me or else I’ll take you to hell.” Jungkook swiftly got into a better position and let his raging boner free. The bed frame began banging against the wall harder and harder each time. Y/N was in a state of shock. She didn’t know what to do. Jungkook viciously thrusted into her and held her down by her neck. “No! Please! Stop!” Jungkook flipped her around and took her from behind. He spanked her ass multiple times, leaving his hand print on her skin. He pulled out and got up from the bed, dragging her along with him. “Look at yourself, you fucking slut.” Jungkook pulled her hair and forced her to look at herself in the mirror. “Watch me fuck you, slut. If I see your eyes aren’t open, I’ll slit your family's throat and send you pictures.”

“No! No! Please don’t! I- I won’t close my eyes, I promise.” Jungkook thrusted in again and had no mercy on her. Tears were rushing down her face but didn't once close her eyes. Jungkook deliberately went faster seeing if she could handle the pain. It took a lot out of her, but she didn’t want to put her family in danger so she listened to every order. Jungkook continued fucking her hard. He could sense the fear that was taking over her body. She was shaking and silently crying, but it merely encouraged him to go faster. At last, he pushed his whole length in and came deep inside her. She squirted around him and collapsed on the floor. “No more, please” “Get on your knees, now!” She whimpered but got on her knees. Jungkook didn’t waste a second to shove his whole cock in her mouth. He grabbed her face and started fucking her throat as fast as he could. After some time, hot cum was running down her throat as he finally pulled out. The poor girl was choking on her own saliva when Jungkook clutched her hair and spat in her mouth.

Jungkook wanted to go for another round, but someone hit his head, knocking him out. Jungkook fell to the floor, revealing a conscious Taehyung. He immediately picked her off the floor and hugged her tightly. She started sobbing on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, baby. We have to leave.” He quietly spoke. Taehyung quickly cleaned her up and gave her some warm clothes to wear. He carried her out of the apartment and into his car. He quickly dialed someone’s number and stepped on the gas.

“Hello?”

“Jimin! Take your fucking brother back to hell. He’s lost his fucking mind. He knocked me unconscious and raped my girlfriend.”

“Holy shit! Where is he?”

Taehyung quickly informs Jimin of Jungkook’s location.

“I’ll pick him up. Just find a safe place, Tae.”

“Yeah, I will.”

—————————————————-

After receiving the call from Taehyung, Jimin rushed to Jungkook. He was still on the floor, passed out. “How hard did you hit him, Taehyung?” Jimin muttered before bringing Jungkook back to hell and chaining him up.

Jungkook woke up with his head pounding. He groaned and looked at his surroundings. “What the hell?” He spoke in a raspy voice. “Wake up, brother. Taehyung informed me you were up to no good.” Right, that bastard Taehyung, he thought. Memories of last night came rushing to his head and he couldn't help but smile. “Where’s Y/N?” Jungkook asked, replaying last night in his head. “Y/N? As in Taehyung’s girlfriend?”

“Don’t call her Taehyung’s girlfriend. Soon, she’ll find her way back to me.”

“Brother, I knew you were absurd, but fucking Taehyung’s girlfriend? Really?”

“You’ve never seen her before, so you won’t understand. But as soon as you get close to her, I ensure you, you won’t be capable of controlling yourself.”

“I’ll see for myself.” Jimin said before getting up and closing the heavy metal door, leaving Jungkook alone.

————————————

1 month later

After the incident with Jungkook, Y/N and Taehyung got into a serious relationship. Every single day, Taehyung worked on becoming stronger to protect his beloved. He felt remorseful for placing her in this kind of situation, so the least he could do is protect her. Y/N was deeply in love with Taehyung. At first, she kept telling herself she only wants him around so he can keep her safe, however she couldn’t help herself. She let go of what he did in the past and focused on the present.

“Taehyung! I’m home!” Taehyung pops his head from the kitchen and she swiftly runs into his embrace. “I missed you.” She pouted her lips and kissed him. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“I missed you more.” She giggles at his response and pecks him all over his face. Taehyung picked her up and sat on the couch with her on his lap. A sweet make out turned into a heated one quickly. She tugged on his shirt then removed it for him and he did the same for her. “How about we try something different?” Taehyung placed her on one of his thighs and placed both of his hands on her ass. “Ride my thigh, angel.” She started moving slowly, unsure of how it might feel. Once her clit started getting some stimulation, she kept going faster and faster, falling apart in Taehyung’s arms. She clenched and came around nothing while Taehyung attacked her tits with his mouth. He left a trail of hickeys all over her upper chest. Taehyung came in his pants just from watching her and feeling her juices leak onto his thigh.

They both eagerly kissed each other until Y/N pulled away. “Can we go out for dinner? I don’t feel like cooking today.” She panted, playing with Taehyung’s hair. “Of course we can.”

——————————————-

The long-awaited day had finally come. The crowd was larger than it ever had been. Everyone came down to watch the ritual and pay their respects to the new king. Torches were pointed downward, symbolizing death. In the middle of the stadium, there was a massive platform. On the platform, there was a throne, a crown, a pentagram and a tied up angel for the sacrifice. Jimin and his father stood side by side, wearing black suits. The crowd went silent when everyone detected a compelling, cold presence. Jungkook revealed himself from the shadows in his true form. He was shirtless with only a thin fabric wrapped around his waist. He walked to the platform and laid down on the pentagram. Everyone knew, this was the beginning of a new chapter.

Moments later Jungkook was screaming in pain. His body became a portal for all the previous kings. They were passing their abilities down to him, resulting in Jungkook's chest and back being burned. Everyone in the audience stood up and started chanting. Jungkook sat upright and headed towards the angel who was pleading for mercy. He manipulated his sharp nail and slit their throat, killing them in a matter of seconds. He attached his mouth onto their neck as the chanting got louder. The warm, thick liquid gliding down his throat was incredibly addictive. Jungkook could feel his power triple in seconds. He tossed the deceased angel away like a rag doll then faced his people. He stretched his wings and grew out his horns.

“I am honoured to be your new king. Thank you to everyone who came to watch the ritual. Please know I’ve acknowledged your presence and respect. I greatly appreciate it.”

Everyone applauded for Jungkook. Surviving the ritual requires an enormous amount of strength. Jungkook has proved to everyone that he is worthy of being king.

——————————-

“Are you ready? I feel like I’ve been waiting forever.” Taehyung said, sitting down on the couch. He was dressed up in his black suit and tie, looking flawless like always. 5 minutes had passed, and he still hadn’t heard a word from her. “Angel? What’s taking so long? Do you need help with your dress?” Taehyung walked back to their shared bedroom only to see Jungkook holding her down with his sharp nail on her neck. “I’m giving you two options, Taehyung. Let me have her, and I won’t hurt her or, she dies, I take her back to hell and torture her for eternity. What will it be, Taehyung?” All Taehyung saw was red. Without realizing, he changed into his demon form and attacked Jungkook. He managed to get him off of her, but strength and power wise, Taehyung was no match. Jungkook punched him over and over, until his nose and jaw was broken.

“Fuck you, Jungkook. I let you have everything! I gave it all up for you because I wanted to be a good friend! One good thing happens in my life and you fucking take it away!” Taehyung yelled, managing to punch him one last time. Y/N sprinted off the bed and rushed to Taehyung’s side. She didn’t care that Jungkook was there, all she cared about was Taehyung. “Taehyung! You’re bleeding! What should I do?! Should I call the ambulance?!” Taehyung looked into her eyes and his heart softened. Tears were streaming down her face. She was actually worried about him. Even after he revealed his true form, she stayed by his side. Does that mean she loves him? Taehyung slightly smiled. “I’ll be alright, love. I’ll heal by tomorrow.”

“No, you won’t.” Jungkook interjected as he got up and kicked Taehyung’s head. “STOP!” She screamed, protecting Taehyung with her body. She wrapped her arms around his head so Jungkook couldn't kick him. “C- can’t you see he’s hurt?! Leave him alone!” She bawled. “I’m not going to leave him alone until he makes a decision. So Taehyung, what will it be?” Taehyung wrapped his arms around her waist, refusing to let her go. “There are billions of other people in the world. Why do you want MY girlfriend?!”

“Don’t question me, Taehyung. Now give me her, or I’ll have to forcefully take her.”

Y/N started sobbing on Taehyung’s shoulder. “Please don’t take him away from me. I love him. Please don’t.” She begged, her tears staining Taehyung’s shirt. Jungkook was slowly starting to lose his temper. He massaged his temples then grabbed her arm, prying her off and away from Taehyung. “If you don’t come back with me to hell, I’ll kill Taehyung right here right now. Or better yet, I’ll make you help me kill him.”

Y/N began to shake. “Please don’t hurt him. I’ll go back with you.”

“No! Y/N he’s going to hurt you! Jungkook you can kill me but leave her alone after I die. You break the promise and will die too.”

“No, Taehyung! I can’t let you die! You can’t leave me alone!” Jungkook pushed the girl back and kicked Taehyung in the stomach. “If you want her so badly, you’re going to have to fight me.” With that, Jungkook turned around, picked her up and disappeared. “NO! Shit! Shit!” Taehyung cursed at himself.

Once again, he failed to protect his love.

——————————————————————————

Uhhh, hi🤠

This is terrible and I’m sorry if it doesn’t live up to your expectations. I completely understand because many people have been waiting for this fic to release and it’s not even good. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed what part 1 has to offer. At first, I didn’t want to make this into a series because I’m very inconsistent. However, I had a sickening plot in mind that I really wanted to do, so the next best option was to make this into a series.

I know, not a lot of Jimin was in this, but the next couple of parts will have him.

xoxo,

naina❣️

#taehyung smut #jungkook smut #jimin smut #bts yandere #yandere bts #bts smut #non con #yandere jungkook #yandere taehyung #yandere jimin #maknae line smut #demon jungkook #demon taehyung #demon jimin #incubus bts #incubus smut #bts incubus

[oftenderweapons]

Hi!!! In “the studio”, it says that namjoon said a lot of hurtful things to vixen over the phone, is there a fic in the series that shows what happened that causes the tension in “the studio”? Thanks!

Pairing: Namjoon x reader (nicknamed Vixen)

Wordcount: 2.2k

Genre: angst. comfort fluff at the end

Rating: 16+ (suggestive, cussing)

Synopsis: set before and after The studio | KNJ

Trigger warnings: swear words, insinuation of infidelity (?), Namjoon is pretty toxic in this one, mention of non-descriptive panic attack.

A/N: this is super old i am so sorry but ive been hoarding stuff for months and now I AM READY TO UNLEASH HELL ALL OVER YOU CUPCAKES MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Credits to my wife @joheunsaram the Great for beta reading my messes. I lob u ❤️❤️❤️

Here is my Masterlist, enjoy 💜✨

You stayed on the phone, trying to cook dinner while Namjoon vented about his day, how unproductive he had felt, how the management and the interviews and the shootings kept him from writing.

He was nervous, tense, and so mad. He spoke too fast for you to understand all the words and he was cussing so viciously that you even flinched. Twice.

“Do you need me to come over? You're too stressed.”

“No, you don't get it, I need to get this fucking thing done!” he insisted, making you huff out and hold your head in your hands. It had been three weeks of him spiraling further and further out of control, all your instincts going haywire over his behaviour. You had been there before and it had hurt you more than you could afford. It had been days since he'd last asked you how you were doing. He seemed to have forgotten your work presentation — the one you had discussed with the board that very morning after pulling an all-nighter to finalise the presentation, match the colour palettes and fonts, check the sources and the estimated costs for the project.

You had worked your ass off and now you were in your kitchen. Alone. You didn't even have the energy to celebrate. You only wanted a bath and some good sleep.

“Lemme see. Read that again, please?”

Namjoon repeated the pre-chorus. “It's weak.”

“The problem’s in the metrics. The syllables don't add up in the last verse and you're missing the alliteration.” You sat down and grabbed a piece of paper, scanning the words as you scribbled them down quickly.

“What about an odd verse? Something like, 'till dawn breaks again'?” you suggested, counting out the syllables and writing down the alternative.

Your stomach rumbled. It had been way too long since you'd last eaten.

“That's cliché.”

You exhaled and picked another line, focusing on the rhyme this time.

His tone was lapidary. “That doesn't make sense with the rest of the lyrics.”

You rolled your eyes, standing up, thinking some more as you got your stew warm. “What do you want it to mean?” you mused, genuinely interested in the concept.

“I don't know. That's why I'm stuck.” You heard him fiddle with his pen nervously on the other side.

“Why don't you go for a walk? Take a breath of fresh air—”

“I don't have time for that,” he hissed, his voice growing cruel.

You realised he didn't have time for you either. You were just a burden to him. A bother. “I think I should let you work, then,” you spoke weakly, feeling your hopes waste away. You had fallen for another selfish man.

Like an icy slash on the face, you realised it was time to start letting go. Been there, done that. You had promised yourself you wouldn't let anyone forget you or use you as their emotional punchball anymore. And that's where all of this was going.

You needed to put yourself first and forget about the poisoned sweets he always gave you, so cunningly.

“It's been a long day for me and I need some rest.” You murmured, your voice too frail. You realised you were going to cry.

Namjoon’s tone was aggressive when he replied. “Sure.”

You waited for ten seconds, hoping with all your heart for him to ask why you were tired. “Goodnight,” you spoke, your voice already strained as you tried to hold back a sob.

“Sure. Go care about yourself.”

At that you lost all softness. “Excuse me, what?”

“I said, go care about yourself. Since you don't care about me.” His voice was so bitter you almost didn't recognise it.

“Are you serious? I tried to help and you spat on all my attempts, without giving me prompts or hints or anything. I asked if you needed me there, and you refused, if you wanted to go for a walk and again, nothing. I've had one fucking long day, Joon, but you seem to have forgotten what today meant for me. If there's anyone who should go take care of themselves is you, you arrogant fool.”

“Do you know what kind of pressure I have on me? Do you think it's fucking easy to be me? I have six pairs of eyes looking at me, waiting for me to work some sort of magic trick or outright a miracle!—”

“It's not about you, for once, Namjoon! This is about me and the fact that you've been treating me like your panic room for weeks. I'm tired and I can't do this tonight.”

“Fine. Then don't do this.” You could see him shrug behind your closed eyelids. “One more true colour of yours.”

You no longer owed him politeness. “Go fuck yourself, you fucking prick.”

“I'll be more than glad, especially considering that you're clearly fucking someone else. I don't take sloppy seconds.”

You gasped at that. With shaking hands you put your phone on the table and closed the call.

You shut the stove and crumbled on the floor before it, clinging onto the counter for dear life. It was time to let your daydreams go.

It took three whole minutes for Namjoon to understand what he had just done. He hadn't had a panic attack in years, and he had to lay on the floor to calm down.

He'd lashed out at you. The only happy thing he'd had in months.

He had insulted you and cussed at you while you tried to help him even though you were tired. He opened his phone again to check the time.

And he saw the date.

Your presentation. Five months right after our first encounter.

He pressed his hands against his face, squeezing tighter and tighter until he growled out loud, his throat burning as a result.

He tapped on your name on the screen, hoping you would pick up and let him explain. Your voicemail came up straight away.

He didn't know what to do. He had to reach you at your place. Apologise. Praise you. Ask you about your day. Hold you.

With the gaping, bleeding hole inside his chest, Namjoon realised the cruel truth. He was in love with you, and all the aggression was due to the fact that he was still just a fuck buddy to you.

He didn't know what to do until a knock on the door startled him. “Namjoonie.”

“Come in,” he said, half destroyed.

Yoongi was wrapped up in his winter clothes, his scarf and beanie covering most of his face while his parka did the rest. “I'm going to the dorms. Do you want to come with me?” With a second glance, Yoongi realised something was wrong. “What happened?”

Namjoon shook his head, feeling more tears well up. He didn't know when he'd started crying. “I don't know. I— Hyung, I'm in love? And it… It hurts. She will never love me back. And now I made her hate me.”

Yoongi tutted and entered the studio, helping Namjoon pick himself up before fixing the room. “Vixen?”

Namjoon nodded. “I was fucking cruel to her. She ended the call without saying anything. I hurt her, hyung.”

Yoongi stretched his arms out, his bear-shaped friend immediately adding to the older's winter armour. “You'll be fine. You'll write her one of your heartfelt letters and send her flowers. Tomorrow. In the morning, when you'll be rested and more calm. No use thinking about it now.”

“She'll never forgive me,” Namjoon murmured.

“Then you'll learn the lesson.” Yoongi knew that was a hard thing to say, but he also knew there wasn't much to do at this point. At the lapidary reply, Namjoon startled a little. Losing you?

He never would have thought it came this way. And now here it was. How could he apologise?

Jewels? No, you weren’t Mara. You were you, which was precisely the reason why he had fallen in love with you and not her. Flowers. He would send you flowers. And a pretty thank you note. Apologies. Anything to bring you back.

Maybe an art book?

He shook his head. As he waited on the lift with Yoongi he continued thinking about the awful way he had treated you, how he’d spoken to you. He had disrespected you in ways you had never: he had been impossible and you had been nothing but caring and helpful and understanding. Still, he’d barked off at any kind words you had offered him. And he had offered in return nothing but bad vibes and aggression.

He had been hostile, angry, sarcastic and dismissive. And your presentation… He knew you were a tough cookie, a true professional, and you would conquer them without the bat of an eye, but that was no excuse for him not to worry or ask about how you were feeling.

Once safe in his bed, he still couldn’t understand how everything had got so out of control. He hoped he would sleep, but he rolled around for almost one full hour before surrendering. He stood up and once on his desk, he drafted the letter he should have written weeks ago, when he realised that, though watching you undress yourself always took his breath, his interest wasn't limited to your naked body; he liked your mind, your way of thinking, your little quirks, and the way he was never bored with you. You were his soulmate.

He was in love with you and he wanted to tell you in person. So he shredded the draft and wrote another. Then, he managed to fall asleep.

The following day — actually, just five or six hours later — he had a florid, large white orchid delivered to your office, his note together with the plant. He had chosen the plant personally, amazed by the thriving sensuality of it, which matched you perfectly. He was notified once the delivery reached you, waiting a couple minutes for you to read the letter before deciding to call you. He waited on the line for a while before it fell.

He called again.

Again, to no avail.

He didn’t let himself break yet. He thought about waiting for your lunch break; and he waited.

Until it was lunch time and he could call and make sure you weren’t in a meeting. Finally the line didn’t fall anymore.

“Vixen,” he said fondly once the mechanical sound ended and he could hear you breathing through the phone.

“Hi. I received your flowers. It’s not an excuse—”

“I was stupid—” he started, but you had no intention to listen. Your tone was icy when you spoke again.

“Do not interrupt me. I said it was not an excuse and I will not accept any. I have been disrespected for weeks and I will not accept that any longer. You are no longer welcome to call or text.” Your throat closed entirely as you spoke the next words. “I will bring you your stuff as soon as possible.”

He cried out your name.

“No. I knew this moment would come. I need to put my own good first, and you’re not good to me.”

He could hear your voice crack, your quiet sobs. “I can be good to you. You know I have. These last few weeks—”

“Goodbye, Namjoon.”

“Little fox—” The line fell.

He was left alone with his despair. Finally, he could complete the song, too bad he had to sacrifice his heart for it.

Namjoon woke up sweaty, his heartbeat galloping as he sat up in his bed, however he relaxed once he saw you next to him.

He laid back down, resting at your side, pressing his nose into the crook of your neck and kissing behind your ear, nuzzling his nose into your hair, taking in your smell — which was quite pointless since you had showered at his place, with his soap, in his room, right behind that glass wall which had been cause of so much debauchery. And after that, he had joined you under the water, kissing all over you and speaking those words he had barely dared to mouth since he’d spoken them in the studio.

“I love you so much, my cute, smart, beautiful fox,” he murmured. “My precious baby darling.” He rubbed himself against you, his arms wrapping around you possessively as you slept like an angel in his bed.

No way he would let you get away from it.

He would have you move in on the weekend. He already knew you would have just a small case of cold feet, act grumpy and fight him just for the sake of it, but in the end you would consent, with a bit of compromising and a fair bit of bribing, of course. Still, that was the only way for him to take care of you as consistently and insistently as possible. He needed to make up for several weeks of neglecting.

“My darling baby love,” he whispered after one more kiss. “I love you, little one.”

“I love you, Joonie bear,” you whispered, your hand tightening around his before you turned slightly, offering him your cheek. He kissed it, watching your eyelashes flutter before you turned around and burrowed yourself into his embrace.

He smiled. That was the best thing to fall asleep to.

#namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #kim namjoon one shot #thetruthuntoldnet #thebtswritersclub #52hertz #houseofddaeng #namjoon x vixen

[dinosaurtsukki]

savior | fyodor x gn!reader

pt. 2 of broken from my angstcember series

anon 1:  Hey bestie, how are you? I hope your doing well and staying safe, can I get some more Fyodor content? P.S your my fave bsd writer atm xx

anon 2: Can you make a part 2 of “broken” the angsty fyodor fic, really enjoyed that one

summary: you knew that your relationship with fyodor would one day lead to you lying on the ground and him standing over you, holding your life in his hands. except, you didn’t think he’d choose to save you

words: 1.5k words

contains: mentions of death, blood, murder, emotional manipulation, your regular fyodor fic 

a/n: i have a whole bunch of fyodor requests so i decided to put both of these in one. also haha flattered that somebody would ask for a pt. 2 of that fic. that said, i tried to write this in such a way that you could read it independently from broken. 

fyodor knows all too well just how fragile human beings are. after all, he was born with a physically weak body and as much as he wanted to dismiss that reality, it would often catch up to him in the form of his own bodily limitations. luckily, he had his own genius to more than make up for that and it only convinced fyodor that he was greater than the average human.

his subordinates came and went, some of them fyodor had intentionally disposed of to benefit a plan, such was the nature of their work. he had grown used to standing over people grasping for their last breath before fyodor himself kindly put them out of their misery with his own ability. 

he knew very well that one day, he’d be doing the same to you.

“so... this is what came of you,” he mused, looking down at your body. one of your hands was pressed to a bullet wound on your side and blood pooled beneath your body. your eyes were glassy and focused at the ceiling but fyodor could tell from the slight rise and fall of your chest that you were very much alive.

he kneeled down and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. with a soft smile on his face, he remembered the you from a year ago: the young university student that he met in a library with the shy smile and the soft expression. ‘so innocent,’ fyodor thought, chuckling softly. and now, look where you ended up.

“tell me, did you intend to get yourself shot?” he asked. your eyes landed on his and your breath rattled as you inhaled.

“you could figure that out for yourself,” you replied. 

“since when did my dear y/n get so cheeky?” fyodor sighed, resting his chin on his hand. 

“i hope... you don’t die... anytime soon,” you struggled to say.

“hm? have you grown fond of me?” 

“no,” you chuckled, only to cough painfully on your own blood. though, it looked like you didn’t regret it. “i just want to enjoy a few years in hell before having to see you there.”

that got fyodor chuckling again. “maybe i will miss you y/n,” he said. you smirked at him.

“screw you.” 

you closed your eyes, expecting fyodor to deliver the final blow. he observed you silently for a few seconds, his hand hovering just over your wrist, only to reach into his pocket to pull out a phone.

“nikolai? i’ll need some help here.”

...

you thought those were your final words because you slipped into unconsciousness right after saying them only to wake up a day later lying on a couch in an unfamiliar room. 

“what the--” you looked around groggily and found a bandage over the bullet wound in your side and what appeared to be an IV drip injected into your arm. fuck, you were still alive. only question is, where were you?

you got your answer just a few seconds later and almost wished you hadn’t.

“oh good, you’re finally awake,” fyodor said, entering the living room. he wasn’t dressed in his usual ensemble and wore a plain sweater and pants. for a minute there, you could imagine yourself back in that library a year ago before everything happened. “well, the bullet didn’t hit any fatal areas either so you’ll be good to go in a week maybe.” you clenched your jaw.

“why the fuck did you save me?” 

“is that anything to say to your savior?” fyodor tutted and sat down on the armchair nearest you. 

“you’re not my savior. not if the only reason why you chose to save me is to just toy with me,” you seethed. 

“hmm, you make a compelling argument,” fyodor nodded contemplatively. “though, that’s not entirely the case.”

“care to tell me what it is then?” you asked in a mocking tone. you hated that no matter how much venom you put in your words, fyodor would just chuckle as if he was watching a child threaten him. but to him, you were just as threatening as a child.

he leaned back in the armchair and cocked his head while regarding you. “having you around... entertains me.”

the way he enunciated every syllable sent shivers down your spine. you know that fyodor was always good at pandering to your insecurities, making you feel as if you were his whole world when in fact you were probably just a pawn to him. no way were you going to fall for this again.

luckily, months of working for his terrorist organization sharpened your movements. with one hand, you grabbed the letter opener from the coffee table and swung it at fyodor. except, his hand grabbed your wrist in mid-air just as you were about to plunge it into his throat. the point of the letter opener was pressed against his throat but your captor was completely unharmed.

“see what i mean?” he smirked at you. “was it just last year when you were desperate enough to leave me that you got yourself caught? and now look at you,” he crooned, twirling a strand of your hair with his long index finger. “so defiant now.” 

his grip on your wrist tightened and you dropped the letter opener. “just you wait. one day i’ll--”

“you’ll what? run away and try to live a normal life? you know better than that, y/n. with everything you’ve done under me, how could you possibly live amongst mere humans?” fyodor scoffed. “and dying? my dear y/n, you never really wanted to die that day, did you?” he smiled knowingly. 

the hesitation must have been clear on your face because fyodor let go of your wrist. you felt yourself sit back down on the couch you had been lying on. “you’re one of the only people i haven’t been able to completely control and i think that in itself makes it worth having you around.” 

“and if i decide to use that against you?” you asked. 

fyodor stood up and made his way across the room to the kitchen. “that’s always up to you,” he said, feigning nonchalance. “now, how do you like your tea?”

...

you spent that entire week recovering in fyodor’s place and it was strangely incident-free. he’d be away most of the day after all and often came back in the late hours of the night, asking about your condition if he caught you awake and even offering to bring back painkillers if needed. at one point, the two of you even had dinner together. that is, if sitting at the table drinking in soup while fyodor rambled on about the next stage of his grand plan could be counted.

a year ago, before you knew of his true colors, you would have wanted something like this with fyodor. you would have wanted him to come home to you making dinner and spend the rest of the night listening to him read out from your favorite book. of course, that scenario was just a pale ghost now in comparison to your reality, but sometimes you tried a bit harder to convince yourself otherwise. 

“you’re all healed. i suppose you could leave now if you wanted,” fyodor observed. “of course, you could come and go here anytime you like.”

“thanks but, no thanks,” you said stoically.

“hmm, shame,” fyodor sighed. “i won’t even be around for the next couple of weeks.” 

“so, you’re really planning to get yourself put in jail,” you said, looking up at him. fyodor was standing in the middle of the bathroom with the door ajar, fiddling with the ends of his dark hair. 

“just for a while,” he hummed. and then, “my hair is too long again. y/n, could you cut it for me?”

the request took you aback and it took you a while to realize that fyodor was serious with his request with the way he looked at you expectantly. slowly, you got up off the couch and walked over to the bathroom where he was. 

“how short do you want it?” 

“just at my shoulder,” fyodor answered. with one hand, he reached into one of the bathroom drawers and pulled out a pair of scissors. they weren’t just the regular kind of office stationery. the scissors were made completely of metal and the blades were long and sharp at the very tip. 

when he handed the scissors to you, fyodor’s gaze lingered pointedly on yours long enough for you to understand what he was doing. the corner of his lip curled slightly upwards before he turned back around. of course, he was taunting you.

the metal was cold in your hands and carried substantial weight. with fyodor’s back turned, you could probably kill him if you wanted to; plunge the blades deep into his back or his nape and have him crumple to the floor. then, you’d be the one standing over him, waiting to see what kind of person fyodor would be in his last few moments of life.

but he knew you too well.

“lean your head a bit forward,” you whispered. fyodor obeyed and you started snipping at his hair. not once did he even look up at the mirror to check your progress, placing his complete faith in you.

it was better to be at the devil’s side than his enemy. 

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[flowerwrites06]

break my mind’s eye VI — jjk

Plot: Jungkook thinks marriage is the only way to seal a deal.

Pairing(s): Druglord!Jungkook x Fashion Designer!OC (Name: Belle)

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Parts: Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Special 

Word Count: 7k+

Genre: Mafia | Angst/Smut/Fluff

Tags & Warnings (for entire series): drug dealing, marriage through trickery, explicit smut, drug use, dubious consent, prostitution, miscarriage, lots of manipulation, impregnation through manipulation 

Coffee was not the only thing bitter this morning. An irritating three hours ago, Yoongi had been wrapping the final works of the—at least what he and everyone else in his team considered—a successful raid. Fourteen hours achingly squeezed through the exhaustion in his veins to bust this den and it was a popular one at that. Around ten dealers were arrested that night.

Only two got actual jail time. The only reason was because they both had companions with them that night under the age of eighteen and one of them was the culprit for a former models’ murder.

Other than that, the den was closed down to keep up appearances. Most of the dealers had the infamous phoenix tattoo to symbolize exactly who they were working for. However did they get enough proof to finally expose Jeon Jungkook?

Not a fucking chance.

He dragged himself into the precinct with a heavy head and tar-like coffee in his hand before slouching onto his chair. A sweet pile of files on his right which were happily ignored. Yoongi could also painfully notice that Namjoon was desperately trying not to ask him about the raid even though every twitch in his eye wanted otherwise.

Darkened and deep set eyes shot a slight glare at the younger male. “Go on.” He rasped.

Namjoon looked almost a little innocent with his huge glasses on staring at him like he was not so deathly obvious about his curiosity. “I didn’t say anything.”

“But you want to so get it over with so you can cover for me while I take a fucking nap.” The older male patted the pile of files which was now going to the others’ responsibility solely because Yoongi had information Namjoon could not gain. If he could even call it decent information.

Clearing his throat, he leaned in closer resting his elbows on the table and forgetting whatever he was working at the computer. “What happened?” He whispered more enthusiastically now.

“Everything and nothing.” Yoongi seethed, anger burning through the unwavering heaviness of his body. “We checked all the stages. Did everything we needed to do and got more fucking eye witnesses than any task force has ever done. Except our captain decided it was the perfect time to act like a damn saint by letting most of them go on fucking technicalities.” Fingers curled up into tight fists just retelling the whole story. So much work had been placed to take this den down and for what? Sleepless nights and back to the square one?

His heart leaped a little for once hearing someone else verbalize the captains’ clear goal to ensure that Jungkook was never exposed again. “You know why they do it, right?”

The older male shook his head with a light stammer. Yoongi was the one who trained Namjoon in the field which was the only reason why he was assigned to be his partner over anyone else. He could always keep him in line. But now he worried whether there might be a dark truth laced in all his words. “We can’t get ahead of ourselves.” He muttered under his breath before taking a sip of his coffee.

Namjoon let out a small sigh of defeat glancing over at the precinct around them. It took any person with common sense to notice a few who were drowning their insides with coffee to stay awake after a failed raid. A small part almost felt relieved that others now knew the things he went through after his failed undercover mission. That knowledge something was wrong but you could not do anything about it. The curse of being part of a system which Jungkook already ruled since birth. “What can we do then?” He asked more to himself than the other.

“Yoongi…” Tapping of footsteps broke their conversation for a minute as one of the detectives, Minnie walked to their desks. “I need to talk to you. Both of you.” Her eyes flickered to the two men who stared at her in utter confusion.

The dark haired male peered at the woman through his fringe already noticing Namjoon stiffen at the sight of the detective. “What now? I’m not really in the mood for more disappointment.” Yoongi leaned back and tolerated the little glare the younger male gave him for speaking to Minnie in that manner.

“You’ll want to hear this. It’s a message from the big chair.” She muttered before turning on her heel to walk out of the building.

Namjoon immediately gave Yoongi a pleading look to go follow her, thighs bouncing in place out of his curiosity.

Yoongi kissed his teeth before averting his gaze in annoyance. “I’m too old for this shit.” He got up from the chair with his cooling coffee.

“You’re a year older than me.” His brows furrowed.

“I meant mentally.”

Out in the spring like air of the smoking zone, Minnie hugged a brown envelope as the two men walked out eying her in pure puzzle. Her nose flushed without her jacket but the nerves that built up in her body made it difficult to care. “I don’t know why they gave to me.” She shook her head. “I thought I was let off from this but—” The woman handed them the brown envelope.

Yoongis’ forehead remained permanently knitted as he accepted the envelope as Namjoon took his coffee from him carefully. He pulled out one single piece of paper. A hand-written letter.

‘I am fully aware of Mr. Jeons’ actions under the blanket of extortion and public sympathy. The raid was planned to be a publicity stunt to impress me somehow but I have been observing this world for as long as I can remember. The police force vows on survival. They want to protect their children from being taken, wives from being defiled. It’s every man and woman for themselves in front of this power. Unfortunately this means we must play the same game of deceit and secrecy to truly achieve the victory we all want.

Hence this letter to you. Gather a small team that you can rely your life on for this mission. There will be materials and sources given to you throughout the month and I suggest you find a dispassionate body whom you can trust to slither into the enemy crowds. There we shall begin the first careful steps to our goal.

Burn this letter as soon as it is read.

May God be with you.’

“Fucking Christ.” Yoongi whispered re-reading the letter ten times before finally understanding the sudden weight dropping on his head. The signature did not lie either. He had seen that so many times in recent weeks it was engraved in his mind at this point.

Minnie shook her head again, a mixture of fear and concern reflecting in her eyes. “I didn’t know who else to trust.” Gaze flickered from Yoongi and Namjoon who still were not able to formulate any kind of proper response. “I’ve already been to the rings undercover, I won’t be able to risk it. Namjoon got too close as well.”

Namjoon swallowed the small lump in his throat at the mere memory of his time deep inside the Jeon Cartel. As much as he wanted the glory of walking back to that place to make things right. It was too much risk. This time they were going against all the usual protocol that ever existed.

Only person left was one who had not truly been seen on the inside was—

“You’re shitting me.” Yoongi sighed out the words. He understood the stakes of spreading this information to far too many people. In fact even the man himself could not name anyone who could be more trustworthy than Namjoon and Minnie. Most of the precinct were hell bent on bruising their knees for the captain while some others preferred the older mayor. It was an unbreakable web of lies and unfair distribution.

“Sorry, Yoongi.” Minnie muttered.

“You did the right thing.” Namjoon quickly interjected. “Anyone else would’ve just shown this to the captain.” He nodded towards the letter.

Without another response, Yoongi pulled out his black lighter and flicked to expose the small flame. His eyes fixated on the bright shade of yellow a little dulled out from the daylight before touching the edge of the paper. He kept a hold of it until it was absolutely ensured that the erupting fire devoured every words. Throwing it in the bin, he sighed deeply when he stared at the two youngers. Whatever tired looseness his body adorned a while ago now faded away with a new anxiety. Not really anxiety but a concern. The results of their last raid did not exactly boost his self-esteem in being able to achieve a large feat. Digging his hands into his pockets, cool wind flowed through his black shirt making him shiver a little. “When do they want us to start?”

Minnie looked around for a moment; more a sign of precaution but a lot of the precinct would be stuck inside the building or on patrol. “There is an inside source who’s been working with the mayor for a few years now and they say that he’d be able to get you a pathway into the cartel.” She rubbed her arms to give herself some type of warmth from the air that only seemed get colder.

“What kind of a source?” Yoongi squinted his eyes. The mayor was not wrong in saying they were a regular in Jeons’ exposure to the public since they already had a solid source.

“I couldn’t get everything but you need to cut any outside ties this month onwards.”

He scoffed with a smile. “It’s cute you think I have other ties.”

-

A month had gone by before Belle could even take a few breaths. During work hours, it was easy to forget her personal life for several hours and just focus on seams linking with colours, blending into an assortment of something beautiful. Somehow the more perfect her works were the more she felt in control of the world around her.

Boyoung came in and out of the boutique to give her updates on the things that could be done about the cake, flowers or the general décor. Guest list had pretty much been determined by her save for Taehyung and Saito with a slightly awkward explanation of her parents’ death.

Today in the cool day Belle gazed at all the designs for the Sangria House mixed in with Spring Line. She opted to display all the Sangria House dresses towards the end during the fashion show so it could add a showstopper. The lavender one especially caught her eye already imagining Jimin wearing the get-up with some matching jeweled earrings. Dainty fingers brushed across the silk, a softened smile playing on her lips.

“Your first line.” Saitos’ voice broke her out of her little trance. “How does it feel?”

Belle looked over her shoulder to see the woman adorned in a similar lavender pant suit as she padded closer to the displays. “Terrifying.” She breathed out, the corners of her lips twitching up. “It feels like I’m jumping headfirst into cold water.” More like a vast ocean that was so deep that she might drown if she was not careful. Though she would dive into this pool any day.

“Speaking of diving headfirst.” The older woman smirked before the sound of something swishing touched Belle’s ear.

She fully turned around to see Saito hanging a covered outfit on rack before unzipping it down and pulling a pure white piece. A majestic dress bigger than any of the designs they had for the line, multiple georgette layers with slight elegant frills at the ends, a diamond encrusted waist line with a sweetheart neck. The whole piece was simple without any extra glitz and glamour aside from the waist.

“What do you think?”

Belle breathed out a chuckle, eyes not being able to tear away from the dress despite the simple look. “It’s beautiful. What’s this for?” Wide eyes searched the older womans’ expression who merely laughed at the girl.

“Well what else? It’s your wedding dress. If you want anyway.” She shrugged, her gaze now trailing down the long length before fixing the fabric a little so it displayed perfectly. “It’s a little simple I know but if Boyoung told me earlier when the wedding was going to be, I would’ve worked on it a bit more.” Saito spoke about it in such a casual manner.

Little did she realize the jolt of tears flooding in Belle’s eyes when she heard that the other designed and made this whole dress for her. “You made this for me?” She whispered, a small droplet threatening to fall down her cheek.

No one asked Saito to do so nor was she forced to make one either. But the woman did it anyway without any prize in return. She did not ask for her body or her mind as a way to repay her actions. Just an act of kindness.

“Actually I did it so you could do something for me.” She pouted a little before glancing around the boutique longingly. “I can’t have this boutique forever and I’m not exactly getting younger either.” She chuckled, patting the work table like it was her first born child. “Do you mind taking care of her? After I’m retired?”

Belle’s heart almost sank for a moment knowing there was always a catch. Except Saito once again showed she was nothing like other people in her life. Her chest felt like it lost all room for her overflowing affection. Legs rushed over and Belle said nothing but wrap her arms around the woman, squeezing a little tighter than normal. Now that her senior couldn’t look at her expression, all the tears she desperately tried to keep in now came flowing down her cheeks.

All these walls breaking down, there was one dark truth touching the tip of her tongue. The wedding dress Saito worked so hard on. All for a wedding that wasn’t even real. What Belle wouldn’t do to just blurt it all out right now and let the bleeding wounds heal for once but it can’t be done.

The world was beautiful and cruel at the same time. She never experienced that sentiment so strongly until now.

Saito giggled rubbing her back soothingly as she attempted to give her comfort while also holding a humungous white dress. “I’m not dying, sweetie.”

Belle laughed through her tears, quickly wiping them away when she pulled out of the hug. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.” She smiled. “Marriage getting you all emotional?”

“You can say that.” One way to describe the hell she got herself into.

-

“Absolutely not.” Jungkook narrowed his gaze at the older male who somehow gained the audacity to disturb him in his office. Fingers stilled around the pen he was holding to sign a few hand-written letters to some associates. A warning to take caution for the coming days due to the raid in one of their biggest dens.

Taehyung scoffed lightly at the blunt response. “Why not?” He folded his arms together in front of his chest. “I spend hours in a day doing absolutely nothing. How long do you expect me just sit idly here?” The man looked and felt sicker by the day which the doctor explained was the body clearing itself out. Not really the most reassuring explanation but he knew at one point where all the sick feelings dissipated because he was properly distracted by something. Someone more like.

He dropped the pen on the table now unable to concentrate on putting the words together especially since this wasn’t exactly Word Document where it could be easily deleted. “I don’t want you in here either.” Jungkook retorted. “But you’re also not the most trusted person to be left alone right now so I’m left with no option other than no.”

“Then a guard can come with me.” Taehyung shrugged. Truth be told the man had no intention of doing what Jungkook had been wary about. Of course it’d be a lie to say there was not a gnawing feeling in his stomach as if something was missing. But right now that was not the goal.

“I suppose you expect me to pay for this outing as well, yes?” He winced.

“You are marrying my sister by force. So yeah you’re paying for both our life insurance as far as this whole fuckery is concerned.”

Jungkook cocked a brow hearing the male’s challenge. Maybe one shot to the leg would have helped him relieve any stress but he hated how much Taehyungs’ eyes resembled Belles’. Sighing in defeat, he grabbed the phone roughly and put it to his ear. “Mr. Kim…I’d like to book a private room in your house this afternoon. Sorry for the late notice.” He glanced over at the male, pressing the phone on his chest. “Who did you want?”

“Angel.”

Of course the fucker had to choose the most expensive angel in the goddamn registry. The crime lord took a deep breath to calm his fury before placing the phone to his ear, an award-winning smile on his lips. “The golden member. Angel…put it in under Kim Taehyung…yes…thank you, Seokjin.” Hanging up the phone, he merely glared at the older male. “They’ll be ready for you in the evening same time as the last one. Look presentable and for the love of god…” His glare sharpened. “…play nice.”

With a detached hum, Taehyung rushed out of the office skipping at every step to finally go outside of this place and to see the beautiful golden lady in the Sangria House.

-

Her heart jumped a little hearing that Kim Taehyung was going to visit the private room again and asked for Angel personally. She tried not to have favourite customers but truthfully the brunette had been the most comfortable to talk to. Most people would ask her questions on her talents in the bedroom or how much each service would cost. To many a golden angel was a literal cash cow for the owner so everyone grew curious as to just how much they were worth.

Months maybe years of training involved to be that perfect inhuman being who could make everyones’ dream come true if they had the right funds.

As any other work night for her anyway, Angel would pad into Seokjins’ office adorned in her signature golden dress which was soon going to be updated by a growing popular designer.

Knocking three times against the dark wood she heard the familiar voice invite her in. Clicking the door open, the girl closed the door behind her and stood in the center of the room like her normal routine. Head bowed, fingers intertwined with one another as she slowly bowed in front of him.

“I’m sure you’ve received the list for today.” Seokjin muttered still looking a few paperwork as the angel raised herself up to her perfect posture.

“Yes, Mr. Kim.” Angel nodded.

“You don’t have to call me that behind closed doors, Angel.” He sighed knowing there was no way the member would listen to him anyway. Keeping up formalities according to her had been a way to ensure she did not take her current state for granted. “There’s a special task I’m giving for your session with Mr. Kim.”

“What is it?” She gained that slight bit of comfort to look him in the eye. Not that it was abnormal but usually Angel was in more sleep appropriate clothes or none at all when they had casual conversations.

Seokjin opened one of the doors in his desk and pulled out a vial with a dark purple shaded powder inside. He swirled the little particles in front of the curious girl. “This is a powder to help Mr. Kim feel more…comfortable during his session.” His voice lowered the slightest as if he was spewing a small secret.

Angel received many unusual requests from customers but rarely from the owner himself. He was always a simple man who found solace in his business. No funny work behind the scenes ever. Except now. Brows furrowed slightly but the woman nodded nonetheless not entirely having any choice but to agree. She gently took the powder before hiding it inside her jeweled hands. “How much do I give him?”

“It’s quite a weak dose so the entire vial should do the trick.” He smiled reassuringly however Angel did not feel quite consoled. “Mix it in his tea so it’s easier to take in.”

The woman felt the vial getting heavier and heavier in her hands as the realization became clear she was about mix a strange substance in a customers’ tea. Something about it felt strange. Angel remembered spending nights inside a club where she would catch bartenders sprinkling things into girls’ drinks but she wasn’t able to say anything to stop them.

Either way the golden lady took a deep breath before giving her husband a large smile and nodded. “Of course.” Angel bowed slightly. “Is there anything else you want me to do, Mr. Kim?”

Seokjin reached out and brushed his long fingers against her softly painted skin. For a moment behind closed doors breaking some of the walls of formality so he could truly show some care for the people he watched over. “Be safe.”

-

The heaviness in her hands now seeped into her chest when she sat inside the private room awaiting Taehyung. Except the vial was still clasped in her clutch while her eyes fixated on the tea pot. Seokjin never showed malice towards anyone let alone someone who barely visited the Sangria House. Maybe it wasn’t harmful at all and the methods just seemed controversial in her own mind.

Angel never lost anything from trusting Seokjin in the past so why should this be any different?

Taking another deep breath, her bangles tinkled as she popped the cork of the vial. A light lilac steam flowed out of it when Angel tipped open the tea pot lid and sprinkled the whole substance into it. Seokjin advised her not to have but one cup to ensure she did not lose her own sense while attempting to entertain the man on whatever he needed.

Whatever he needed.

What did he need?

Their first conversation was mostly soft conversations that merely scratched the surface because they both held dark secrets that neither wanted to admit in the first meeting. At least that was why Angel suspected from the slight emptiness behind his eyes. Like he lost a part of himself once.

Maybe tonight Taehyung grew curious of something more than talking.

It was rare for her to do anything but talk, dance or play the gayageum for whoever she entertained due to the high prices for something else.

Then again Taehyung was Jeon Jungkooks’ brother-in-law. The young man could buy the entire Sangria House if he wanted as Seokjin liked to joke about sometimes.

Pulling her back from her trance in thought, the door clicked open and Angel shot up. All her jewellery and the details in her dress welcomed the familiar customer like tiny little wind chimes. Walking to the center of the room and her composure back to normal the woman bowed with the utmost elegance. “Welcome, Mr. Kim.” She grinned.

Taehyung immediately grew speechless when he walked into the private room. Despite the constant mental conversations he had in his mind that he should be calm and collected, once he saw the golden lady, his heart leaped and his stomach filled with butterflies. Really who could blame him? She literally glowed like a goddess even the sun must be in love with her.

Not that he was too. But he still grew a little obsessed at admiring her every feature.

“Would you like to sit down?” She gestured towards the space reserved for him.

The male stammered a little having mentally slap himself before giving her a nod and a friendly smile as he situated himself at the table. Angel sat next to him to ensure that the experience was as intimate as possible. Except now Taehyung felt the room was way too hot for him to tolerate.

With a slight nagging feeling in the back of her mind, Angel poured the tea for the both of them and offered one to Taehyung which he accepted.

Almost immediately he took a sip to somehow alleviate the initial awkwardness of the session. Unfortunately Taehyung ended up downing the whole drink like some kind of tequila shot.

Angel tried to suppress the light giggle that tried to pass her lips and refilled his cup again. “What did you want to do today, Mr. Kim?” She asked with the most perfect smile, fingers perched carefully on her lap.

A light warmth passed through his body as soon as the first cup settled in. Whatever anxiety he had melted slightly; enough for him to give the girl a smile without feeling like a teenage boy who had never seen a woman before. “I—I actually just wanted to talk again.” Taehyung swallowed thickly wondering how stupid it must sound coming to a place like this only to make conversation.

Belle always tried to make him feel at home but it only made him feel worse. He could see how exhausted she was working all day and night while still attempting to keep a happy smile on her face for everyone else. For him. Not to mention the wedding creeping closer, Taehyung could almost feel the weight she must have on her shoulders.

The golden lady nodded in acknowledgement, loosening her posture just the slightest to ensure more comfort. “I’ve heard the other angels talk about Mr. Jeon and your sisters’ wedding.” Her eyes widened a little. A small tinge of excitement burst inside her at the excitement of it all. “Weddings in the Jeon family have always been so regal, a lot of the juniors were talking about their own ceremonies being that way.”

Taehyungs’ heart sank a little seeing how happy the woman got with the wedding. No part of him had the courage to stop her from talking about it; the way her eyes sparkled and her smile melted into something more genuine rather than calculated. He smiled politely before taking a generous swig of his tea, once again unable to determine just how little tea was actually inside it. “What was your wedding like?” He asked watching her refill his drink at perfect timing.

Now Angel could not escape steering away from the question considering she brought up the topic. “I didn’t have a ceremony.” She smiled. “It was a legal signing and…a few witnesses.” She muttered remembering Jimins’ welcoming grin when he saw firsthand the confirmation of her freedom.

He stared at the woman noticing the little tinge of sadness in her smile. A feature eerily familiar in his younger sisters’ smiles too. Except his heart did not sink too much after he drank up the third cup. In fact nothing much happened. His body seemed to come to a full stop in feeling down to his toes almost seeming non-existent. He had to wiggle them a little to ensue himself they were still there. “Their wedding will be beautiful.” Taehyung had a bitter taste in his tongue speaking of it. “You can come. I’m sure Belle would love to have you.”

The woman stammered a little before chuckling nervously. Angel never really attended events unless Seokjin was invited so she could go as a plus one. Despite their ‘marriage’, she was still to be considered an employee and not Mrs. Kim. “I think I might be working on that day.” She spoke honestly.

“What if I took you with me?” Taehyung asked, the words slipping out of his mouth with more ease now.

Angel quickly refilled his cup again not wanting to be a sub-par hostess before politely smiling at the male again. “I can’t go to outings without my husband.” She muttered.

“Husband…” He scoffed with a smile, shaking his head. “Right…sorry.” Once again Taehyung turned to the comfort of chugging the entire cup of tea. His fingers feeling numb and his ears a little blocked but in a comforting way. Like a warm blanket around him after a walk in the cold day. “Do you ever think about running away?”

“Running away?” She searched his expression which had been growing softer and his body looked more casual.

“Yeah…” Taehyung pushed out a small chuckle. “You know, away from everything. Just…to the country side somewhere and just live there all your life with no troubles.” He threw his head back a little and closed his eyes to relish in the distant dream.

Angel giggled lightly. “What about your sister?”

“I’d take her with me.” He replied without hesitation. “She always told me about wanting to go in the mountains and sewing all her clothes from there. A secret designer hidden deep in the mountains.”

She couldn’t help but smile fondly at the dream. Maybe there were some days where the girl wished to leave all of this behind and live somewhere no one could ever touch her again. Where she could be free. But her current life held far too many responsibilities. Seokjin protected her from a worse fate and that was something Angel could spend the rest of her life repaying him for. “It sounds wonderful.”

Taehyung drawled out a deep hum before chugging down another cup he couldn’t keep count of. At this point his head and body felt like they were floating on a fluffy cloud that kind of smelled like jasmines. While his vision was hazier than ever creating a slight glow onto Angels’ face making her look literally like her namesake. A crooked smile tugged at his lips as his eyes drooped. “You’re so beautiful.” He muttered.

Angel giggled shyly, lowering her head a little. “And you’re very handsome.” She patted the back of his hand.

“It’s just my luck…” He let out a deep sigh of defeat. “The first person I end up liking…turns out to be a married woman.” The male pouted, eyes trailing down her form not being able to hide all corners of his interest as the strange tea now flooded inside him. “If only we could just—close off the real world for a moment.” His finger seemed to gain the same loose mind and traced the back of her soft hand. “And I could show you how much I like you.”

The girl gently pulled her hand away and placed it back on her lap. Smile slowly faltering into something less genuine. “I can do whatever you want, Mr. Kim. But there are still rules.”

“What if what I want is against the rules?” Taehyung whispered, tilting his head as he searched her expression.

“Then we call security.” She chuckled nervously.

He laughed making his throat feel incredibly prickly. Shoulders shook as he coughed knocking the empty cup over accidentally which Angel quickly set up again. “It’s fine.” Taehyung raised a hand before filling up the tea cup himself albeit while shaking.

Her chest rose and fell watching him down another cup.

As soon as the liquid went down, he coughed again while pain settled in his chest. “Think I might be allergic to jasmines.” Taehyung stared at his cup with a small giggle passing his lips. “Anyway what was I saying?”

Angel had to remind herself that it was not fully Taehyung’s fault for the behavior he began to portray. Except that didn’t change the sinking feeling in her gut as the comfortable bubble they had between them now seemed to melt before her. “You were talking about what you wanted to do.” She answered in a small voice to keep her normal composure.

“You said you’d call security.” His voice grew a little raspy before he coughed again. “Does that mean holding your hand is against the rules?”

She nodded. “That rule is more applied to members like me.”

“Married members.” He traced his finger pad around the brim of the small cup. “But do you ever think about breaking the rules? Just a little.” Taehyung smirked shifting a little closer, his hand once again sliding to her part of the table. “

Angel attempted to smile again before shaking her head. “I’d rather not, Mr. Kim. Responsibilities are important to have—so we don’t get out of control.”

“Fuck responsibilities.” He scoffed leaning back. “I tried being responsible. Being the perfect son…always choose the best path, always be the better cause you are better.” Brick walls inside him turned to paper as anger now burned through it with ease. “All the while my little sister tried so hard. She’s perfect. The best person I’ve ever met and they fucking called her worthless.” Tears melted at the brim of his eyes spewing all these unsaid words. “Then they died…” Taehyung chuckled, vision growing blurry. “…leaving their daughter thinking they never loved her. Responsibility killed my family. They had the responsibility to make the perfect son and look what happened. They never taught me to live without them. Responsibility destroyed my baby sisters’ life.” He winced.

Despite the poison in his body, Taehyung still had that truth suppressed unable to word it out. Your sister is this mess because of you. Because you couldn’t be better. The heat burst through his loosened body unable to control or suppress the urge as he knocked the teapot and cup off the table with the back of his hand.

Pot shattered and cup cracked the male was overwhelmed with another coughing fit that stung his chest.

Angels’ eyes now glossy attempted to hold both her hands up to calm him down. “Taehyung, please.” She whispered. The woman dared to touch his shoulder while his head was lowered on the table. Her heart jumped when she saw the light splutter of red falling from his plump lips onto the wooden surface. Letting out a shaky sigh, she cupped both his cheeks to make him face her gaze. “Taehyung?”

His whole face looked like an utter mess, eyes reddened, cheeks stained with tears and his lips trickling with his own blood. His chest was on fire and he couldn’t help but laugh a little again, teeth stained slightly. “This is what happens when you just talk.” Taehyung growled out. “Everything becomes a fucking mess.” He winced and pushed her off of him not wanting to face her while in this state even though his whole body had no energy to truly care.

“Help!” Angel yelled and almost mere seconds passed with the door bursting open, two guards walking inside. Following them was a concerned Seokjin padding into the room to check on her first.

“Did he hurt you?” His hand hovered her cheek.

She shook her head. “He’s sick, something’s wrong.” Angels’ gaze flickered from the blood splutters on the table to the young male being carried on each side by his arm.

“It’s okay.” Seokjin caressed the top of her head. “Take him to the Jeon household immediately. I will call Mr. Jeon to ensure he’s prepared with a treatment for him.” He explained in a much calmer demeanor than Angel was in at the moment.

One of the guards acknowledged his order before Taehyung was dragged less than gently out the door leaving Angel in her pool of anxiety.

“Keep a stiff upper lip, darling.” Fingers tapped on her chin to make her meet his gaze. “We can’t lose our focus, yes?”

Angel shook her head out of habit. The woman let her heart grow too soft for a man she only conversed with twice thus far. It was too dangerous to make herself dwell on the matter when he was—as much as it ached a little so say it—just a customer. She had responsibilities whether Taehyung or even she liked it or not. So Angel merely bowed and continued to get ready for her next session.

-

Afternoon faded into evening and evening faded into night but no sign of Taehyung. Worry creeped up as the hours passed by with Belle’s thoughts only growing darker instead of more optimistic. Of course she did not stop herself from scolding Jungkook for a few minutes about letting him go out to Sangria House.

The man simply reassured her that one of his guards were present outside of the House if something were to go wrong.

Adorned in her nightgown, Belle refused to rest on her bed despite Nana attempting to convince otherwise. She paced around the room with warmth spreading through her palms from the tea cup in her hands. Fingers tapped against the sides and the worry continued to infest throughout her entire body.

Then the door downstairs opened with a thud.

Slamming the cup onto the table the woman rushed out of the bedroom down the stairs, somewhere in the back of her mind hoping to see her brother safe and sound. Unfortunately luck was not a constant in the Kim Family when she saw Jungkooks’ guards carrying Taehyung inside.

Breath caught in her throat Belle took a few quick steps closer and drops of blood staining his chin and shirt like he was punched through his teeth. “What happened?”

“People at the house said he drank something and started acting weird.” One of the guards explained crudely while they moved to Taehyung’s bedroom.

Jungkook appeared from behind them, looking far more exhausted than ever.

Belle tried to clip her tongue from any more backlash on his decision and followed suit to her brother’s bedroom.

The maids pulled over the blankets so he could be plopped onto the soft surface, causing him to grunt a little under his breath. Belle pulled off his shoes and placed them on the floor as the blanket loosely covered his body now.

“Didn’t they tell you what he drank?” She asked, pressing his hand against the male’s forehead but his skin wasn’t any more heated than normal.

“We have someone from our private med coming in tonight.” Jungkook padded into the bedroom after sending the guards out. The male had a slightly casual tone about him despite seeing the worry shaking from his future wife. Maybe he should have made more effort in feeling sorry but he knew this would happen. “He’ll be fine, baby.”

Belle refused to respond, eyes merely focusing on Taehyung who was having trouble keeping himself awake. He needed to be okay. He just had to. The wedding date slowly slithered closer now to a point where she felt like suffocating. Her brother was the only thread of hope she could hold onto to give her strength but now it just felt like they were back to square one all over again. Was this what Jungkook wanted? If Taehyung never got better than the girl would have no chance whatsoever to get away from him. She wouldn’t have any other choice but to stay here.

Taehyung’s eyes flickered every now and then seeing a blurry vision of dark hair and white clothing. For a moment he already confirmed his own death assuming maybe the figure before him was an angel. Except a few seconds he noticed Belle’s familiar features. “’m sorry…” He whispered.

She shook her head brushing his hair away from his forehead. “Don’t apologize.” The last person Belle blamed was Taehyung. He wasn’t the one who made them stay here. He wasn’t the one who made the deal nor did he agree to it on his own accord.

Minutes passed before one of the guards walked in announcing that a medical apprentice arrived to the premise to help them out. A little irritated, Jungkook told them to bring the person in. The downside of private meds was that they always had to protect their own backsides from being seen by prying eyes in mob leaders’ households. They would then send apprentices to do the job for them especially if it’s not a serious case.

Through the door walked in a raven haired male with a white shirt and some pants on looking the complete opposite of what any med should look like.

“Please don’t tell me this is your first day.” Jungkooks’ eyes judged him up and down right through his very core.

The apprentice cleared his throat as he stared down at his outfit. “It wasn’t really my shift tonight, sir. I was told this was an emergency.”

“Mi amor, this isn’t the time find out who the next top model is.” Belle retorted walking over to the entrance as she gave the apprentice a small friendly smile.

Jungkook noticed the guards’ eyes widen a little at the way she spoke to him. Not to mention the little nickname blatantly spewed in front of most of the staff.

“They said he drank something strange—”

The apprentice nodded looking over at the tanned male struggling to sleep peacefully, body jerking as he coughed. “My supervisor said it was a new drug that was sent to him for testing once. Manufacturer didn’t have a name but he called it Shade Terror…” He looked at both Jungkook and Belle. “May I?” He gestured to Taehyung.

Belle saw the apprehension in her fiancées’ expression. Granted the woman would be hesitant to let a trainee try and help her brother but she couldn’t just let him stay in pain until something else was available. Reaching out, she gently held onto his pinky and ring finger as a silent way of pleading that he let the man help Taehyung.

“What’s your name?” Jungkook asked.

“Yoongi…sir.” He bowed once again to enhance a vulnerable state in front of him. His face did not exactly scream ‘meek’ after all.

The young lord nodded and gestured towards Taehyung so he could start with his work. As soon Yoongi situated himself next to the bed, Jungkook turned his head to face Belle for a moment. On any other day a new face trying to do medical work under his roof would have gone through hundreds of investigations and gun to their head while they worked. So why was it Jungkook couldn’t find the courage to do the same now? Especially when Belle met his gaze and gave him a light smile to quietly thank him for agreeing.

Detaching their hands Belle walked back to the other side of the bed and watched Yoongi press his fingers against the side of Taehyungs’ neck. His way of working was definitely a lot more careful than that of a more experienced doctor but it looked far more reassuring. He placed a small wooden box on the nightstand before flicking it open and pulling out a vial filled with a pale blue milky liquid.

“We need to make him sit up.” He spoke in a slightly shy demeanor.

Belle nodded and gently pulled Taehyung up to a sited position as he leaned back against the headboard.

Her older brother whined light under his breath before lulling off to a messy sleep again.

Yoongi pulled the cork off of the vial before forcing the mans’ mouth open by pressing through his cheeks. Without a moment’s hesitation, he poured the liquid down his throat before clamping his mouth and nose shut forcing him to swallow it down.

She wanted to protest for a moment but immediately saw how Taehyung tried to resist the medicine, thrashing about on the bed until the blanket was almost off the bed.

Once the apprentice pulled away her older brother drowned into a coughing fit.

“He might vomit for a while to get the toxins out.” Yoongi spoke as he clapped the small box shut.

After a few more minutes of whining and light thrashing, Taehyung finally breathed out into a calmer state of relaxation before lulling off to sleep again.

The apprentice was about to walk out of the room before Jungkook stepped in front of him, hands pressed firmly against his chest.

“You’re staying here until we know he’s okay.” His glare shot like daggers, distrust practically oozing through his veins at the strange face.

Belle wondered a little to herself how he had so much trust issues for this apprentice but had all the confidence in the world to marry her without any knowledge of how she was. Either way for once she could relate to his suspicion. If the ‘antidote’ somehow made Taehyung worse then she’d want Yoongi in the mansion, accessible for proper punishment.

Yoongi looked over his shoulder to face the young woman who had a much kinder expression but even she grew hardened at the sign of distrust. Not that the man could truly blame her, for all they knew he could have gave the tanned man poison. So he nodded and stood back waiting for a few guards to lead him to a guest room. Weeks of training to just get enough inside information on Jungkook instead he was now literally invited into their home as a guest for the night. Granted on darker circumstances but it deemed to be a strange step forward.

-

Morning rushed in with a light warmth and Belle persisted to stay in Taehyungs’ bedroom the whole night despite everyone else’s attempt at convincing her otherwise. For a few hours she was able to travel back to a simpler time when she would snuggle into her older brothers’ bed whenever the darkness got difficult to deal with alone. Taehyung kept her in his arms all night telling her she was worth so much more than what their parents pushed on the girl.

What he didn’t truly know was that his love was strong enough to be all she needed. At some point Belle stopped longing for her parents’ validation knowing there was one amazing person already treating like she should be.

She wanted to do the same and make sure he knew in all this mess there was one person who always loved him more than anything.

Gold peeked through the curtains when the older male shifted in his position, eyes opening to a silhouette sleeping next to him. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips seeing the familiar face. For a few moments, Taehyung could pretend they were a normal family again without the real world around them trying to crumble it down or tear them apart. Those few minutes were sacred until he saw the shining ring around her finger. The ring she probably never wanted but took so he could heal. Now as his smile disappeared and his eyes burned, he was painfully reminded of the sacrifice Belle was going to make in a few days.

Taking in a deep breath, Belle slowly moved herself awake widening her eyes a little before she met with Taehyungs’ gaze. “Were you watching me sleep?” She giggled tiredly.

“Just checking if you actually did that.” Taehyung smiled again.

“You look better now.”

“I feel better. Aside from the vomiting, this room stinks.” He winced not wanting to look at a soiled bin on his side of the bed.

Belle shifted to lay on her back with a relaxed sigh. Eyes flickered over to her phone for the time; only a few hours until she had to go to work. But she could risk a few minutes for this rare moment where it was just the two of them. No maids, no guards, no Jungkook. Just a brother and a sister. “What happened, Tae?” She whispered.

“It wasn’t me.” Taehyung answered simply. “Seriously, I went into Sangria House and talked to Angel and…drank jasmine tea. I don’t think I’m allergic to jasmines.”

“The private med that came in said it was the symptoms of a drug.” Belle turned her head to meet his gaze. He had tried to lie about these things before but she could tell he had no idea this would happen to him at all.

“Jungkook probably asked them to slip something in my drink.” He scoffed.

It wouldn’t exactly be the worst thing the man had done in his lifetime especially from the things Belle had seen and heard in this house.

Her silence seemed to trigger a spark inside Taehyung’s body as he searched her expression. “You’re thinking that too, aren’t you?”

Belle swallowed down her words despite how strong they wanted to be sung across her tongue. “He’s a horrible man…but he can’t be that desperate to be married…I think.” Her brows furrowed not sure of anything she spoke out.

“He was desperate enough to put a ring on a stranger.” He retorted.

She hated how closely their thoughts aligned. There were so many things wrong about this situation but if this was true then Jungkook may be worse than he lets on in front of her. “I’m just glad you’re okay. That’s all that matters.” A smile stretched across her slightly chapped lips.

“You matter too.” Taehyung felt that familiar choke in his throat like his grip slipped and he was forced to watch Belle fall into this abyss. “You mean so much to me. How am I supposed to feel better if you’re hurting in the process?”

Belle quickly moved her gaze to the ceiling, letting out a shaky sigh. “I’m not hurting, I promise. It’s going to be okay.” She intertwined her fingers with his trying to give him some form of reassurance.

“Morning…” Jungkook walked through the door of the bedroom, now in a fresh new suit and curled hair with a glass juice in his hand. “How’re you feeling?” He asked albeit not in the most compassionate tone.

“Fine.” Taehyung muttered.

The woman shifted to sit up on the bed, straps of her nightie falling over her shoulder as she stood up. “He only drank the jasmine tea in Sangria House.” Belle spoke simply. “Is there a special recipe that we should have known about?” Her arms folded over her chest, eyes growing a little sharp pointing at Jungkook.

“Jasmines and water?”

She rolled her eyes. “You know drugs more than a lot of people. What do you think that—Shade Terror thing could’ve been?”

“I’ve never heard of it before.” Except Jungkook may have had a small clue on what exactly was mixed into Taehyungs’ tea. The question he did not know the answer to was why. True Seokjin had some less than kind methods for people who might be treating his angels improperly. Maybe Taehyung did something that he was not saying to anyone.

Somehow Jungkooks’ lack of knowledge created more suspicion than there was due between the siblings. Belle padded closer to the male who immediately caressed her forearm. “You didn’t kill the medical apprentice yes?”

“Not yet.”

She looked over her shoulder giving her older brother a small smile. “We’ll see you at lunch, okay?”

For the first time in a while, Taehyung had a more relaxed heart looking at his sister despite the man next to her making his blood boil at the same second.

Belle pulled Jungkook towards the bar gently with a deep sigh.

“There’s something else.” He broke the brief silence immediately.

“What did you and Seokjin talk about that night?” She turned to face him properly.

The curly haired male scoffed lightly, placing his glass on the table. “It was business.”

“Seokjin owns a brothel, you own a cartel. What kind of business would you two be talking about exactly?”

Jungkook had to admit to himself, the woman was more intelligent than she let on and he wondered whether that was useful or more dangerous in this particular situation. “You think I had something to do with your brothers’ problem?”

“Yes.” A deadly silence plunged into the room as the guards and maids now felt far too comfortable to be in the living room. “Now answer my question.”

The male sighed knowing there was no reason to embarrass himself by trying to lie to a woman who had already seen his true colours. “We were discussing a new drug that Seokjin wanted to distribute through our cartel. I suppose he wanted to use it on his customers as a test run.” He shrugged.

“So you knew this might happen to Taehyung?”

“Of course I didn’t know it could happen to him.”

“But you knew the testing was going on and you still let him go to the House.”

“I’m not his father, Belle, it’s not my responsibility to keep him in check.” He gestured roughly towards the room.

Belle scoffed bitterly. “This is the responsibility you got when you decided to stick your fingers into our lives.” She took a step closer. “No one asked you to do all of this. We had the money to make all of this go away.” The heat spread through her so fast, her fingers began trembling and her head grew heavy. “So don’t fucking act like this is some big inconvenience only to you.”

Their conversation broke apart and attentions turned to the raven haired male standing just a few inches away from the bar as he cleared his throat.

“Sorry…I was called.” Yoongi replied simply, pretending he didn’t hear the answer to Namjoons’ burning question about Belle and Jungkooks’ sudden relationship. Hands settled behind his back and a neutral expression plaster across his features, he waited for one of the dual powers to speak up.

Belle faded back into a soft expression before smiling at Yoongi like she had not been incredibly distressed a few seconds ago. “I wanted to say thank you. My brother is all better now.” She walked away from the counter, closer to the raven haired male. “How much do we need to pay you?”

He shook his head with a reassuring smile. “My supervisor told me not to ask for any payment—”

“But you came all this way…” She muttered.

“An invitation to the wedding perhaps.” Jungkook spoke up now, leaning on his hands against the edge of the counter. “Your supervisor could come along as a plus one.”

Yoongis’ lips parted as he met Belle’s gaze who gave him an encouraging nod. An invitation to a stupid wedding did not seem like a prize of any sort but he assumed being a guest to such a prestigious ceremony was a gift. Either way he couldn’t exactly disagree to the offer now that it was on the table so he gave them both a smile that could constitute as grateful. “Thank you so much…I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to come to the event.”

“I’m sure he will.” The other male gave him a forced smile despite being hyper aware of the eyes that were on them when Belle snapped. Everyone would remember now. The girl who walked in here being manipulated slowly grew hardened to her struggles and had every ounce of courage to fight back. It was a red flag shouting at him to pull the trigger…prevent any more problems from arising. Except he loved the anger. The fire in her eyes gave him life and vigor, he couldn’t just take it away. Whether that would be a good decision or bring his downfall was up to fate now.

-

Night fell cloudy as Boyoung entered the Jeon household just two days before her nephews’ big wedding.

Belle sat in her bedroom watching her dress getting steamed by Nana while she sent a few emails confirming the date of the Spring Line fashion show. Since Saito placed her own hand into the line, the venue and date had to be perfect enough for the most important guests to arrive during that time. The show was going in over three months but her anxiety creeped in already.

Last time the woman had a fashion show, she missed it completely on account of getting her brother to a safe place. That was one of the smaller ones though. This one would have designers from far and wide coming in just to see these designs on show, critics, celebrities and a venue so majestic Belle almost got nauseous just looking at the pictures. It was going to be the pivotal moment of her career. If this went well then orders would come in like a waterfall and her name would be solidified in the industry.

She had to force herself to take a deep breath before her whole body exploded in her heavy mixture of anxiety and excitement.

“Belle, dear.” Boyoung knocked twice before peeking through the open door. A smile immediately tugging at her lips when she saw the younger female.

She peered through her glasses before closing her laptop and placing it on her nightstand. As soon as the girl tried to get up the older woman put her hands up.

“Please sit, darling.” She giggled padding over and sitting on the edge of the bed in front of her. “I need to talk to you about something important.” Boyoung placed her purse on the soft surface before pulling out a steel container. “I know you can buy your own but just for tonight.” She removed the lid to show that it was filled almost to the brim with pomegranate seeds shining a little like rubies in the light.

Belle tilted her head before chuckling softly. “What is this for?”

“Eat a lot of pomegranate seeds from now on.” Her eyes widened a little from her own excitement, placing the container in her hands with care. “It’s going to help with bearing a child.”

If the anxiety was strong before, it shot through of her head now making her entire body tremble. Belle hoped her true reaction did not seem too obvious when she forced to smile at the woman. She knew a lot of families vowed to traditional means to help bearing children but that was not what shocked.

Bearing children.

Children.

Making lives.

Bringing more innocent lives into this world.

Into this mess.

It was now more than ever Belle could relate herself to Persephone. Being given pomegranates to make her stay in the Underworld permanently. She was never going to escape this place if she had Jungkooks’ child in her belly. The woman would be bound to this world, etched on it like the phoenix tattoo on her fiancées skin.

Whether Taehyung got better or not. There would be no escaping after that.

“I’ve never seen Jungkook happier than I have now.”

Because he’s getting exactly what he wanted all along.

“You really made a difference.” Boyoung patted her cheek, eyes looking a little glossy as she grinned. “Thank you.”

Belle sighed lightly with a shaking smile still struggling on her face. “Don’t thank me. I wanted to.”

The older woman nodded glancing behind to see the gorgeous dress hanging on the large stand, chuckling. “I’ll leave you to your privacy…while you still have it.” She teased.

Once Boyoung left the room, Nana paused in her work and looked over at Belle with a worried expression. Much to her heartbreak the young girl broke into silent tears as she placed the contained on the nightstand. Placing the steamer down she padded over to her mistress and said nothing but pulled her in for an embrace. “You’ll be okay, dear. You have a strong heart.”

Then why did it feel like it was crumbling to a million pieces from too much pressure?

-

“Her older brother?” Namjoons’ voice spoke through the phone.

Yoongi shook himself slightly to fight away the cold despite the confines of the glass booth around him. “Yeah he’s been living in the Jeon mansion for a while I’m guessing. Belle also said something about her having the money. Her brother might have had a debt of some sort.” He glanced around the darkening streets spotting only a few stumbling groups passing by in a fit giggles. “Jungkook refused the money…”

“Leverage maybe? To marry Belle?”

“Yandere move.” He muttered under his breath. “Whatever’s going on, Jungkook seems a little soft for the girl.”

“That’s never good.” Though Yoongi could hear the slight bounce in Namjoons’ tone.

Soft meant weakness. A word hardly associated with Jungkook under any circumstances but now it might strike a ray of hope. “Belle’s smart though. She was able to fish out information on Seokjin making the new drug…and she wants me to stay in the mansion tonight too.”

Silence plunged between the call for a few minutes before Namjoon spoke again. “You think she’s suspicious?”

“I think she’s careful. After that whole Sangria House drama, she probably wants to keep her brother safe so having a medical apprentice seems the way to go.” He hung his head slightly irritated that these were all assumptions at this point. Yoongi thought Jungkook would be hard to read but now he had to be careful of the new queen about to be crowned in the cartel. “I know it’s not enough—”

“No, you kidding? That’s a lead. Jeon weddings are where the family is going to be most vulnerable. Meaning no executions, no drama, it’s all about the celebration.” Namjoon explained almost in a whisper which meant that the male must have still been in the precinct working. “It’s the perfect time to get on their best side.”

Yoongi nodded quickly moving to hang up before he heard Namjoon make a noise again. “What?”

“Be careful, okay?”

He smirked. “I’m always careful.”

-

Belle got herself adorned in a simple mustard body con dress with some light makeup and her hair done loosely as she walked down the stairs to the entrance of the mansion. Two guards stopped her at the front asking it was too dark for her to be out. It was a spur of the moment decision to just get out of the house on her own accord for once.

Except she knew she had to be smart about it. Going out at night when so many people knew her face and name now was risky. But she didn’t want any of the guards to be stuck to her the whole time.

“Yoongi will come with me.”

The older male barely managed spent a few minutes on his own after the short conversation in the phone booth with Namjoon. He merely walked out of his bedroom for a moment to check on Taehyung before Belle dedicated him to a night out.

“The–the medical apprentice, ma’am?” One of the guards stammered.

“He looks able-bodied and Taehyung’s crashed for the night. It’s only a couple of hours, gentlemen, I’m sure the world won’t end.” A few more minutes of jabbing a sharp expression towards the guards they eventually caved and told her the car was coming in soon.

Yoongi only had his white shirt which was re-washed surprisingly quickly by the maids so he would not smell putrid by the day. It was like living in a house of robots who just did what Jungkook asked. Except for this woman. She looked like the only person moving in real time.

Once the car was pulled in, Belle asked Yoongi to drive since she felt a little too anxious to concentrate.

“Where to?”

“Sangria House.”

Without asking any questions, Yoongi drove on with a heavily engraved memory of where the location was. The car ride itself was deeply silent making the male incredibly aware that he was completely alone with Belle. Would it be too quick to just tell her what’s going on? It didn’t seem like she had any worries defying Jungkook but that could mostly just be so she could act as a balance of power in the cartel.

Best to stay quiet, he told himself.

The car stopped in front of the establishment causing Belle to let out a deep sigh. “Could you wait here?” She asked in a soft tone now. “I’m sorry to pull you into this but I think it’s better if I took someone who wasn’t directly Jungkooks’ guard for this meeting. I promise I’ll explain your absence to him.”

When the woman gave him a reassuring smile, Yoongi felt his heart sink a little. One thing he despised about himself is how easily he could see something broken behind a persons’ eye. He would see it in the seventeen year old school girl who had to explain how her principal called her into his office every week but it was never because she was in trouble. He would see it in the convicted young man who tried to recount the events that led to him murdering his uncle. He saw it here and now. That broken nature all in a smile that meant she tried to survive something that was too much to take. Or was trying to survive. Despite the pressure of thoughts in his mind, he nodded in agreement before Belle walked out of the car.

-

“Ms. Belle!” Seokjin announced as Belle was escorted into his office by one of the white angels. Another junior angel poured them some tea in two cups before bowing and leaving the room. “Please sit.”

Swallowing down, the woman padded over to the table and carefully sat down on one of the chairs feeling a light breeze in the room. She regretted not getting a shawl of some sort but this was meant to be a quick meeting.

“Some tea?” He gestured with that same trained smile he always had for all his customers and business partners.

Belle stared at the filled up and merely smiled. “I’ve grown a little wary of tea at the moment.”

Seokjins’ lips twitched a little almost losing the calculated grin he adorned so gracefully. “I suppose that’s understandable.” He chuckled under his breath. “Though I assure you I don’t drug valued partners.” He nodded to himself. “But we’re not really talking about the tea here. What did you want to talk about?”

“Sangria House has been a pride and joy for tradition and beauty, yes? But you also want to influence the future generation which is why our partnership exists.” She leaned back on her chair. “Have we not made sufficient dresses?”

“Of course not.” He shook his head.

“Does it not look expensive enough?”

“It looks absolutely marvelous.”

“Then why is it, Mr. Kim, that you seem to need another business transaction with my future husband?” Belle tilted her head, searching his expression.

Seokjin chuckled lightly. “I am an active businessman, Ms. Belle.”

“An active businessman who tries to distribute a faulty product.” She continued simply. “I’m not an expert on drugs and do correct me on this but aren’t drugs supposed to make you feel good? At least on the first day, one should not start coughing out blood and losing their mind.”

“It still has its tweaks.” His smile slowly started fading away for a moment.

“Then fix it before you test it on the wrong people.”

“Madam, are you suggesting I stop making this business transaction with your fiancée? Wouldn’t that be unfair to Mr. Jeon? Having this discussion without his approval?”

“I think Mr. Jeon needs a little bit of unfair in his life.” Belle smiled. “All I’m asking is for you to pause any discussions or testing on this transaction until ours is finished. I’m a little possessive like that, I prefer full focus.” She scrunched her nose. “Once we’re done with the Spring Line show and all is successful, you can begin…your experimentation as you please. Does that sound fair enough?”

Silence plunged into the room as Seokjin had to collect himself for a few moments at the proposal thrown at him. “I can see why Mr. Jeon took an interest in you.” He chuckled a little nervously. “Alright…as a way to sincerely apologize for my actions, I will halt any discussions on the new product with your husband. All the focus will be on our line…Madame Belle.”

Jungkook never truly cared about the complete wellbeing for Taehyung. It was all conveniently to keep the deal alive. So if she couldn’t win with him on a personal level then maybe damaging him on a business level might just give her leverage.

Was this going to help her life with Jungkook become more pleasant? No. Not at all.

But this was her only way to take control of something again. Jungkooks’ successes in getting money from this new drug now relied on her milestone, not his power.

A few more formalities and Belle was led into one of the private rooms where she saw Jimin sitting with a bright smile waiting for her.

The lavender adorned male immediately got to his feet, bowing down until he was almost on his knees. “It’s so nice to see you again.”

It was like all the responsibilities and pressures on her shoulders immediately pulled off of her when she walked into the room. Inside these walls the woman could forget the world outside just for an hour.

Belle hated to admit that she had been visiting Jimin in secret for the past month now just after her work so it could be passed off as overtime. It was sneaky behavior and she despised stooping to such a level but she had to. Getting out of that house and being out of the boutique just for a while was exactly the time Belle needed to feel sane. Forgetting ones’ problems never solved them but she wanted the weight off. Jimin knew exactly how to do that.

Once the lavender angel slid the doors close leaving just the two of them.

All responsibilities were gone.

Just peace.

-

Eventually the fantasy hour had to finish. Belle ran her fingers through her hair as she stepped out of the establishment, rain pouring down violently in the dark night. One of the guards from the House gave her an umbrella and led her to the car where Yoongi jumped out of the car to open it for her. A silly move since now he was drenched.

“Sometimes chivalry can die, you know.” Belle chuckled a little watching the poor thing shiver as he started the car.

“Believe me, ma’am I thought the same thing as I walked out.” Yoongi couldn’t hold in a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. God, was this woman a fucking siren or something? “How was your session?”

She nodded before looking out the window at the blurry view outside. “It was nice.” The right corner of his lips twitched a little.

Yoongi hummed.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing.” He shook his head, glad he had to fully focus on the road and shiver throughout the whole car ride.

Belle chuckled flicking the heater on and directing the vents towards him. “I just talk to them unless you’re thinking otherwise.”

“I’d look like an ass if I assumed something like that, madam.” He spoke before taking a deep breath as he felt the calming heat touch his skin.

“Please call me Belle, I sound like such an aunt when people call me madam.” She briefly held his arm creating more warmth for him.

Yoongi almost felt a little deprived when she pulled her hand away. “Belle…right.” He scoffed out a small breathy laugh.

The mustard adorned woman relaxed into the seat a little with a long sigh, her sweet smile disappearing a little. “I like talking to them…him, it’s just one person. It—it’s the only place I can really talk to someone without…feeling like something’s going to go wrong.” Her brows furrowed as she swallowed. “It might sound a little stupid.”

“No…” He jutted out his bottom lips as he shook his head. “No it’s not stupid at all.”

Belle trailed her gaze to face his expression, raven fringe hovered over his eyes but he seemed to see everything on the road with the way he was driving. “You think so?”

Yoongi shrugged. “In the world you live in…I can’t exactly antagonize you for talking to someone just to relax or feel sane at the very least.” He chuckled. “There’s nothing wrong with getting help where you can.”

“Thank you, Yoongi.” She muttered.

“I should probably thank you for not letting Jungkook kill me that night.” He smirked.

“Well you did dress up like an idol reject.” Belle giggled.

“Point taken.”

<< PREV CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER >> 

#jungkook #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfiction #jungkook mafia au #bts mafia au

[shhh-no-ones-home]

death march matt Murdock x reader

+++++++++

this one has been in the drafts for a bit and i finally finished it so i hope you guys enjoy. writing has been slow recently as i havent had much free time and am still trying to rewatch all the netflix marvel series. but i am still working on requests and stories that ive had started for about a month so hopefully the rest will be out soon, along with some frank castle stories now that ive reached the first season of the punisher

prompts: "You need sleep." "I get sleep" "getting knocked unconscious does not count as sleep"

song: saints of the blood by black veil brides

tag list: @cynic-spirit @juniebugg

+++++++++

i sat back on my knees and groaned. matt and i were both covered in blood and he was still writhing around on the ground. but the men around us that were out made me a little proud of all that we'd done. it had been weeks of tracking them down, taking out one ninja at a time until we found were they were all hiding.

"i need a vacation."

he noted as he got to his knees and i laughed.

"you and me both D."

he laughed back as he stood, almost doubling over as he clutched his side. i was quick to stand then, helping him, steadying him.

"whoa, hold up there daredevil, i saw that last punch. broken ribs isn't gonna get you anywhere."

he inhaled sharply.

"and what do you suggest i do?"

i snorted.

"you know the answer to that already."

he shook his head as we limped towards the door together.

"yeah, i shouldn't have asked."

°°°°°°°°°

when we got back to the apartment i was quick to get him to the couch. every move earned a hiss from deep in his chest as i tried to get his jacket off. i figured his ribs were broke but i was more worried about the cuts and stab wounds.

"alright human x-ray, what's the damage?"

he sat quietly for a moment and listened. then he closed his eyes and sighed.

"what do you think?"

i touched his side lightly.

"oh yeah, they're definitely broken. but there's something else. what is it?"

he blinked slowly before wincing as he tried to resituate himself on the couch.

"the cut below my rib is almost deep enough for it to come out."

i made a gross face.

"so maybe this time we really should get you to a hospital."

"no."

he said quickly and i sent him a look.

"matt, if i don't there's a good chance you'll die."

"no hospital."

i bit my tongue as he laid back.

"fine, ill do the best i can but if you if you start fading on me im doing it. this job is bigger than me, and Claire for that matter."

his jaw tightened.

"what would we even tell them? you're not in any better shape."

his breathing was shaky and staggered. i looked to my knuckles on my right hand as i held the cloth to his open wound. at this point i couldn't tell what was my blood, what was his blood, or what was the blood from the men we'd fought in the back of that abandoned warehouse. and then i looked to my left hand, god it was so much worse. my first two fingers were for sure broken, my wrist not in any better shape, and i had a gash almost the length of the back my arm.

"ill think of something, but right now we need to focus on getting you out of this outfit and keeping you from bleeding out. i don't need the paramedics figuring out what we both do in our free time."

°°°°°°°°°

as i sat in the chair beside matt i tried my hardest not to fall asleep. the beep of his heart monitor was very lulling and the morphine  they had given me didn't help. it was a little amusing though to look at the two of us; we practically looked like mummies with how wrapped we were. my left hand was broken in eight places, my wrist in two. the cut on my arm was deep enough to need stitches near my elbow but nowhere else, thank god.

"y/n."

i heard him say quietly and i sat up abruptly, no longer tired.

"im here matt, its okay."

i said softly, taking his hand in mine.

"where are we?"

he asked and i let out a laugh.

"metro general."

he deadpanned.

"i thought i told you-"

"i know i know, but i was losing you. i kept checking your heartbeat but you were losing too much blood. and i couldn't live with myself if id let you die. not after all that hard work."

i said the last bit with a hint of amusement and luckily he smiled back.

"what did you tell them?"

i let out a nervous laugh.

"i told them we were walking home through a bad part of town and got jumped, pushed into a back alley by a couple guys, large and in masks. i told them that they all looked the same, same height, same clothes, and only one of them spoke; that he demanded we give him all that we had on us. i told them that you tried to be brave and push me out of the way and that they didn't like that; that they beat you up, attacked you, then attacked me and once they got me on the ground stomped on my hand and ran."

he nodded solemnly; rubbing his thumb over the back of my right hand. the bruises were prominent still, cuts deep to the bone that i hadn't let anyone see since we'd been here the last ten hours.

"that's one hell of a story."

"as far as they know it was one hell of a fight. but you're still my hero; stupid and stubborn, but still a hero."

he smiled, almost laughing but groaning in pain and rolling his head back against the pillows.

"hey, take it easy, you need to heal, You need sleep."

"I get sleep."

he said matter-of-factly and i sent him a look.

"matt, getting knocked unconscious does not count as sleep."

he looked to the ceiling and swallowed hard.

"look, ill call foggy and Karen and tell them you were awake and they can visit later but for now you need all the rest you can get. you lost a lot of blood, and i know you, you'll want to get back out there as soon as possible. but for right now i think its okay to let the others handle the city for a bit. ill talk to Trish, see what she can do with Jessica's help. you know Danny would be willing to do something."

he shook his head.

"no, don't, its fine, I'm fine."

"Matthew, you have three broken ribs, a punctured lung, and you almost got sliced all the way through. I'm calling at least one of your super friends to take the mantle for a couple weeks. hells kitchen survived over a year without the mask, I'm sure it can survive a little longer. just until you're healed."

he sighed, closing his eyes again.

"i hate when you're right."

i smiled, squeezing his hand lightly.

"if that were true, you wouldn't have married me."

i stood up and kissed his forehead.

"Mrs. Murdock, the voice of reason."

he said softly and i leaned down and kissed him properly.

"keeping the love of my life alive one day at a time."

"thank you."

i studied him for a moment as i stood back up.

"get some sleep, ill be right here when you wake up."

#wattpad #x reader #matt murdock #daredevil #imagines #one shots #marvel #the defenders #338

[matryosika]

shoot me, chapter VI

pairing — changbin x reader

rating — 18+

genre of the overall series — smut, angst, fluff if you squint

prologue chapter I chapter II chapter III chapter IV chapter V chapter VI

word count for this chapter — 4.1 k

warnings — mentions of alcohol and emotional abuse

note — this chapter has no smut in it. still, the love-story gets completely developed here. next chapters will be filled with smut and angst so stay tuned! i haven't read this chapter because i wanted to upload it as soon as possible, so it may contain grammar mistakes. i will check it later since i have to go out with my family to have dinner! <3 hope you enjoy

taglist:@cozyblues @ahgasearmyfan @binnie-m00n @minaamhh @pinkishwen @spilledtee

*

[changbin's pov]

"so?" you asked him, modeling one of the dresses that you had previously selected from the expensive clothing shop "what do you think?"

she looks like a goddess.

"good" changbin limited to reply. "is that the last one?"

"c'mon you are not helping at all" you grunted, turning around slightly on the mirror to see the full silhouette of the dress "this might be the one, don't you think?"

i think so. i think you look perfect in all the things you have tried on, actually.

"it's alright" the dark-haired man reply "just take that one and let's get this over with"

"jesus, changbin" you whined "you are such a pain in the ass. if you were in a bad mood then you shouldn't have accepted to drive me here so i can buy a dress for the wedding"

you had been in korea for a month and 2 weeks now, your relationship with changbin growing unconciously intimate as you often engage in sexual encounters with him. you wouldn't say the both of you were close, but each day that passed by you could feel how you learned more about him just like he learned more about you too. you wouldn't consider him a good friend, since hostility made a presence every now and then between the both of you, but you had learned to spend time with him without feeling the need to put plugs into your ears and a blindfold to stop acknowledging his existence.

"if you needed help picking a dress" changbin interrupted, standing up from the seat he had been occupying for the last 45 minutes "you should've asked hyejin or ryujin to come and help you out, not me"

"hyejin is busy" you were quick to respond "ryujin had work today and you were the only other person i know that owns a car"

"cabs exist"

"yeah well" you made a pause, swallowing hard "i don't like cabs"

"you could've asked arthur to lend you his private driver" changbin tilted his head slightly.

"i get uncomfortable with strangers" you answered after a few seconds of being completely silent, changbin's gaze making you incredibly nervous.

"really?" he inquired, one of his hands traveling all the way to the pocket of his jacket as he pulled his wallet out. "why won't you just admit that you wanted to spend time with me?"

"fuck no" a grimace of disgust was quick to appear on your face "don't get confused. i would rather be dead than to spend more time with you than i already have to"

"yet you are still here" he teased "maybe i'm not as unbearable as your mind is trying to convince you i truly am"

with lazy steps he took the bunch of dresses that were piled up on the chair next to him, putting them all over his shoulder as he walked to the counter. "what are you doing?" you asked, still wearing the last dress you tried on.

"you are indecisive and i am starving" he said without even looking at you "i don't need to spend another 45 minutes here looking at how much you struggle to pick between 5 dresses, just have them all and pick one when you are alone"

you looked at him in desbelief "do you have any idea of how much just one of them cost? are you stupid?" you almost yelled in astonishment, looking at the figure of changbin slightly turning around to face you.

"i am not stupid" changbin reply "like i said, i am just hungry"

and currently thinking about how beautiful you are looking right now with that look of amazement on your pretty face. if i could, i would buy you the entire world just for you to destroy.

[y/n's pov]

"i will pay every single one of those dresses back before i leave" you mumbled, eating your food as if you had been starving for days "i had money, i didn't need you to come and rescue me as if i was some sort of damsel in distress"

"you were in distress though" he added, taking a sip of the drink he ordered "you took almost 30 minutes just to pick one dress to try on, you are really undecisive"

"yeah well, it's not like i had anywhere else to be" you replied.

"isn't arthur going to have a small gathering at his house today?" changbin inquired "like a pre-celebration of the wedding or something?"

you shrugged your shoulders "i don't know and i don't care. i am just here for the wedding and then i will be finally free"

you kept on eating your plate of food, confused as to why changbin's gaze stayed fix on you. "what, do i have something on my f-?"

"are you leaving right after the wedding?" he asked in a very hostile way, almost as if he had completely forgot that you were not going to stay forever.

"not right after but that's the main reason i came here, yeah" you replied, having a mixture of feelings inside your guts.

you couldn't deny the fact that you missed tsukuba, but living there meant to be trapped in the university dorms 24/7 just studying. but still, the lifestyle you have had for the past time was absolutely something you could get use to it: ryujin, hyejin, going out on the weekends, being free from school, changbin...

changbin?

"i still don't know the exact date though" you added "school doesn't start for me in another months so..."

"how is your life?" he asked, earning a weird look from you as you couldn't quite understand his question "in Japan, i mean"

you sighed. you had thought that living in japan was really good and you felt utterly comfortable living there until you arrived to korea and discovered a whole new life style that you had already learned to love. not only that, but leaving everything here was going to get you a bit nostalgic in the future. "it is great, better than people say it is honestly" you responded as he nodded "i live at the university dorms so life is pretty much everything but rushed. i spend my days at the library studying, i sometimes work as a shadow teacher for like 4 or 5 kids and on weekends i go and visit my mom and her partner"

"your mom got married after divorcing arthur?" changbin followed, just in time as he finished his dish of food.

"uh, it's complicated" you gave him a smile "she lives with someone and she is very happy"

"and are you?"

you were about to answer the question when you felt a pinch on your heart. a month ago you would have replied "yes" without a doubt. you thought you were happy living in japan, you thought you were happy when you visited thea, your mother, and reiko, her girlfriend. you thought you were happy when reiko made you her special coffee and you thought you were happy when they ocasionally visited you on winter nights at your dorm. you thought you were happy when you worked with children and spent time with them. you thought you were happy when you rode your bike from school to work and you thought you were happy when ryejin visited you and your mom on the holidays.

however, you had learned a new definition of happiness here.

"are you?" you fired back.

changbin slightly tilted his head as he laid completely back on his seat "i could be"

"what is exactly stopping you from being happy?" you asked him, intruiged.

"even if i explained it to you" he mumbled "i don't think you will be able to understand it"

"ah, there you are again" you scoffed, slightly rolling your eyes "your god complex has not show all day. i guess you missed it."

"c'mon" he grunted, raising his hand at one of the waiters at the restaurant "let's go somewhere else"

"where exactly?" you laughed "to your place? your car? a motel? jesus changbin, you can't really go a day without fucking, can you?"

"that's not actually what i had in mind" he replied, taking out his credit card as he saw the waiter approaching the table "but i mean if you want to fuck i won't say no"

"you had something in mind?" you asked, faking excitment "for me? you planned something for me?"

"if you want i can drop you at arthur's place right now so he can force you to have dinner with him and his bride. it's up to you"

you weren't really feeling like spending "quality time" with your father, and you also knew that hyejin was probably not going to attent the dinner, so there was no point of you being there. but at the same time, the thought of spending time with changbin doing non-sexual activities was something that it always made you nervous for an unknown reason, and you were feeling particularly nervous today.

"whatever"

*

the evening went on peacefully and that alone was unreal. he drove you to the center of seoul and suggested to take a walk around the most popular avenues because "the city looked better at night", something you have always believed too.

changbin was attractive and, even though your personalities crashed every damn time, you couldn't deny the fact that there were some sort of intimate bond going on between the both of you since that very first night at the bar. still, you wouldn't accept it. you wouldn't accept that the one person you disliked the most was starting to change your mind.

and you couldn't get yourself to trust him either. you couldn't trust any men, for that matter.

"have you thought about which dress you are going to wear tomorrow?" he asked so casually, his hands inside the pockets of his jacket as his gaze diverted from building to building.

"no" you replied, trying to get back at the trail of thoughts you had been threading since you left the restaurant with him. "have you?"

"have i thought about the dress i am going to wear tomorrow?" he laughed "i don't know, it will depend on which one you lend me"

"i got distracted" you admitted "but i will try on all the dresses tomorrow morning and i will give you the rest of them so you can return them to the store"

"i won't do that" he clicked his tongue "i bought them for you"

your heart skipped a beat after hearing those words and it was everything but pleasent.

"i don't want them"

"you can't reject a gift" he mumbled "that's the whole point of a gift"

"i will sell them on the internet" you threatened.

"do it, at the end of the day they are yours" he gave you a side look while smirking "but i wouldn't sell them if i were you. you look good in them"

"oh so you want to give opinions about the dresses now, huh?" you asked, mildly annoyed "you could've help me back at the store but you chose to be grumpy"

"at least i am helping you now"

"you are unbearable" you whispered.

a bright smile was quick to appear on his face. a genuine smile, as if he was enjoying the conversation. not only the conversation but the whole moment: you and him, walking around the city and talking about something so casual and trivial like which clothes you were going to wear tomorrow or which dress he liked best on you.

and for a moment it felt nice.

you felt safe.

"the red one was pretty" he added. you looked at him confused, once again lost in your trail of thoughts. "the red dress, the one that you tried on last"

"good" you responded "i'll make sure not to wear that one"

"you hate me that much?" he teased while a faint chuckle left his lips.

"oh changbin, you have no idea" deep down knowing it wasn't more than a vile lie.

*

you looked in the mirror one last time before you heard hyejin calling your name once again "y/n, how long will you take? i need to stop by the bakery to pick up the wedding cake"

"i'll be out in a minute" you replied, noticing how your hands got sweatier by the second.

you were quite nervous, but couldn't really understand why. maybe the sole thought of your father having his "happy ending" made you jealous because you knew that he did not deserve that at all; he didn't deserve the love he had.

the emotional abuse your mother and you suffered throughout your childhood and adolescence was not something that could be fixed in a month or two and you were certain about it. no matter how happy your father was, you couldn't help but to feel jealous about how he never had to suffer like you and your mother did.

and even though you got over your negative feelings towards him, the scars and aftermath of an abusive household still caught up on you: the mistrust, the negativity, the hostility and the lack of commitment were things you had to deal with on a daily basis.

of course he was the one to blame. but you were an adult now, and you were supposed to deal with all those issues by yourself. no one was going to fix them for you.

"jesus y/n, we are running late" hyejin busted the door open "are you ready now?"

"yes" you were quick to respond, grabbing the purse on your bed and trying to quickly divert from your sister's gaze.

"wait" she mumbled, gripping both of your shoulder as you intended to the leave the room "why are you tearing up?"

"i am not" you replied "i yawned"

she didn't look convinced, but still decided not to push any further "i'll meet you in the car, i just have to grab a few things"

you nodded and made your way through the hallway. because of how rushed she was, you didn't have a chance to tell hyejin how gorgeous she looked. she was wearing a golden shiny dress that embraced her body just fine and carrying a maching clutch with it. she was really pretty, maybe the prettiest woman you had ever seen, and not only that but she was also very smart. any guy would be head over heels for her, but she still decided not to engage in a "silly love story" as she called them because "it is a waste of her precious time, and time is money"

you wished you had the same mentality as she did, but you grew up getting educated on how love was portrayed in books, movies and television. it was ironic how you were the first person on earth to deny that love actually existed, but you were still a hopeless romantic after all.

*

[changbin's pov]

"changbin, are you too far from the church?" haeun, his mother, asked desperately as changbin picked up the phone.

"i'm right outside" he grunted "i told you i was not going to be late"

"we are sitting on the second bench at the left of the altar" the old woman added "hurry up"

changbin hung up the phone and cursed under his breath. the weather today was maybe too nice for his own liking and his clothes were a bit too uncomfortable to be wearing them under the sun.

as quickly as he could, he closed the door of his car and started walking towards the entrance, making sure that the ceremony hadn't started just yet so he wouldn't make a scene.

"did you bring the gift?" jang-yeop inquired as he sat down next to him and changbin nodded "did you also bring your mother the pair of shoes?"

"yes" he responded "how long is this going to take?"

"40-45 minutes?" his father replied "i have no idea, what time is it?"

"7:02 p.m." haeun was quick to answer "now, the both of you shut up"

right after she mumbled those words, music started to sound on the church. changbin, being in a rush to get to his seat before the ceremony started, didn't notice that arthur was already standing up next to the altar and waiting for his soon-to-be wife. changbin's gaze was fixed on arthur, then it diverted into the bride walking down the aisle and then returned to arthur once again. he never thought about marriage or building a family. hell, he never thought about having a romantic relationship that would last longer than a few months actually. but as he grew older, and as he experienced new stuff, he wasn't sure if he still had the same mentality he used to have last year.

to changbin, arthur seemed genuinely happy. his half-lidded eyes along with that bright smile he was wearing indicated that the man was living one of the happiest days of his life. and as changbin witnessed that romantic scene, the question that popped up in the conversation he had with you last night grabbed his attention once again.

what exactly is stopping me from being happy?

and before he could respond himself with words, his eyes had already found the answer: standing on the bench at the right of the altar and wearing that promising dark red dress that could drive any man insane, the woman he never dreamed of looking just as beautiful as the very first day he met her.

not being able to have her completely.

*

[y/n's pov]

after the ceremony, a big party was held at a very elegant event hall located in one of the tallest buildings of seoul. you were not particularly excited about having to see arthur's side of the family, but you still managed to keep yourself together the whole time.

"you are wearing the red dress" a sudden voice whispered into your ear as you were counting the tables that were still missing their dinner plates, an order given by hyejin. you slightly turned around to meet changbin's breath dancing on your neck and nape, goosebumps filling every single inch of your skin due to the proximity.

"congratulations" you sighed "your vision is crystal clear"

"i have been watching you since the ceremony" changbin added "i can't help but think about how pretty you are going to look when you are taking that dress off for me"

a spark of electricity traveled around your whole body and directly into your core. you immediatly looked around and notice a few people who worked for arthur's company sitting not that far away from the both of us "do you really want to do this here?" you asked "aren't you scared of being caught by any of arthur's friends?"

"are you concerned about that now?" he chuckled "that didn't seem to bother you at the company's elevator"

"c'mon" you whispered, your back slightly pressing against his chest "i have to help hyejin with some stuff"

changbin slightly gripped your hand and guided you to the dancefloor that was crowded with couples dancing around "i am sure that she can handle all of this by herself"

before you could protest, you took out your phone and sent her a message with the information she asked for. you had no idea what changbin was up to, but you still decided to follow him.

changbin positioned his hands on your waist as he gracefully dragged you across the dancefloor, looking for a spot in the middle of the crowd so it would be easier for the two of you to get lost.

"you are spending the night at my place" he mumbled over the slow songs that were now playing. it wasn't a question nor a petition, it was an order.

"yeah right" you chuckled "if you are too desperate to fuck we can do that, but i am not fond of sleepovers"

the thought of you spending the night with him was terrifying, but you would've been lying if you said that you hadn't think about what it would be like to wake up next to his him.

"i wasn't asking" he responded. "tell me when you are ready to leave".

with a swift movement, your whole body was pressed against his, his hands resting on your lowerback as you both swinged from side to side, following the rythm of the song. this was a whole new side of him that you didn't know it existed, and you couldn't deny that you were loving every second of it.

"who thaught you how to dance, huh?" you asked, your gaze fixed on his eyes that looked even brighter because of all the lights adorning the hall.

"there is so much about me that you don't know" he replied.

"oh i know everything there is to know about you, changbin" you scoffed "but let's see if you can keep surprising me"

*

it wasn't even midnight but people were already starting to get completely intoxicated with alcohol. arthur had spent the night dancing with ara and, after she was done being the unofficial wedding planner, hyejin ended up getting wasted with the small group of friends she invited to the wedding. you, on the other hand, spent the night dancing with changbin and eating your dinner with him.

it was not unusual to see the both of you together since you spent too much time at the company, but tonight it was sort of different. the looks he gave you, the way you two danced for hours on end, the way he was treating you... it felt different, a little bit more personal and intimate. his parents probably noticed this too, since they made a lof of comments about "how happy they were about us being really good friends". if only they knew.

"i think i am ready" you said to changbin after telling hyejin that you were going to spend the night somewhere else. she nodded her head and agreed to say, if asked, that "you were at ryujin's" even when she wasn't invited to the wedding in the first place. you just smiled at her and nodded, not leaving without telling one of her sober friends to look out for her.

"don't worry" the pretty pale girl mumbled "she will stay at my house tonight"

you glanced over to arthur and ara who were still having the greatest time of their lives on the dancefloor, and proceeded to walk away from the party with changbin. "you parents will stay here?"

"yeah, they will leave in an hour or so" changbin replied "i told them that you wanted to go home and that i was going to drive you"

"perks of living alone i guess" you joked.

the walk through the empty corridors of the building felt eerie as the loud sound of the music were still ringing in your ears. even though you were walking on your own, you could still feel changbin's ablazing touch on your body and that only provoked your heartbeat to go even faster.

as you waited for the elevator to open their doors, changbin's lips unexpectedly crashed against yours. it wasn't a passionate kiss, and it wasn't rushed either. it was just a kiss, an innocent kiss, a kiss you give to your significant other as a demostration of how much you love them. his soft lips dragged against yours as his teeth bite softly your bottom lip, earning a small whine from you. his hands, that were now located into your waist, guided you to the insides of the elevator once the doors were opened.

"you look so beautiful tonight" he whispered interrupting, his breathing getting faster each second that passed by "i can't get you out of my head"

his lips left yours to meet the sensitive spots on your neck, peppering soft kisses all over the surface. your gaze found the reflection of the scene in the mirror of the elevator, looking at how changbin was tasting every inch of your skin with his eyes closed, his rushed hands traveling all the way from your waist to your lower back trying to memorize every single trace of your body.

"i don't want to hurt you tonight" he continued "no roughness, no pain, no petnames. i want to make you completely mine, in the most pure way"

and for the night, you agreed to let your feelings out and let go.

no fear and no mistrust, you were ready to face the overwhelming feelings that had been building up inside you since the day you met him.

even if you could potentially regret it later...

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #changbin x reader #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz oneshots #stray kids oneshots #seo changbin smut #kpop smut

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Therefore I Am | Russell Adler x Bell! Reader IV

Series: Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War

Therefore I Am | Russell Adler x Bell! Reader

Chapter IV

Word Count: 6900+

[Chapter III] [Chapter V]

Summary:  [Y/N] “Bell” [L/N] was content with dying. Shot by the person whom they admired and left to die, the world was now left in the hands of the team they once thought as family. However, it seems that fate had other plans in mind…

Content Warning: mature content, gore, vulgar language, blood, injuries

Notes: Things are getting juicy! A lot happens in this one since I merged two parts into one chapter, I just didn’t want to series to run on for too long. I’m glad you’re all enjoying it though! Hopefully there isn’t too many mistakes since I don’t look over what I write sometimes.

[Y/N] "Bell" [L/N]

July, 1983

CIA Safehouse, West Germany

After your meeting with Mason, it took another half week or so for everything to get back into order.

You had to go through a psychological evaluation, answering a tirade of questions about your personal mental health. At first you thought about lying just to fuck around, but decided against. It would have just added more problems to your already growing list, and you certainly didn't want to get pushed aside. They wouldn't show you the results and passed it off. Soon enough, you were free to go. 

The CIA basically had you on a leash. Someone had to keep an eye on you wherever you went, and the perfect way they went about it was to put you back under Adler's wing. You had nowhere else to go. 

Then again, it was time to refresh and flex your skills. Unfortunately, they didn't give you back your belongings. The pistol and vest you had was now gone. A bit of yourself felt a bit empty without it, but at least they took it upon themselves to throw away the sentimental baggage that you held onto for so long.

Adler had yet to make an appearance since the base. He wasn't even there on the plane ride to Germany, leaving you to travel with Lazar and Mason, whom both snored loudly. You didn't have much to bring with you other than the clothes on your back and a few care packages Mason had forced you to carry, saying something along the lines of Woods craving "a sad excuse for candy", which turned out to be a pack of Hershey's. 

As the ETA to the safehouse got closer, you couldn't help but dread the moment you had to walk through the metal shutters. What were you supposed to do? Act normal like nothing ever happened, and carry on with the day? That felt like the most obvious answer, and yet the thought of just having to work alongside him again made you both irritated and anxious.

The three of you arrived in West Berlin early in the morning, approximately at four a.m.. You could see the landing strip become dimly lit with the ground lights, as well as the control tower poking out in the distance. The airport was rather quiet and not busy as you had anticipated. A nice chill met your exposed skin as you walked out of the aircraft, and you felt Lazar placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Welcome back, Bell.”

Orange streaks poked through the sky by the time you arrived. The outside of the safehouse looked no different since the last time you laid eyes on it. 

It was still anchored in its spot, not a leaf out of place. However, the inside felt so foreign, as there were things now occupying the spaces that were once empty. A couple of more metal tables were placed around the main area, and there were now a couple of towers made from file boxes. It felt a bit more cramped because of it, and you almost knocked some over on your way out. At the same time, though, more cozy at least. 

First thing you did was get a haircut. More specifically, Sims took it upon himself to give you one once he arrived. He wasn't a professional or anything but he does a decent job, surprisingly. Your head felt significantly lighter.

Going to drop off your bags, your room was left untouched by time. It was lightly furnished, your bed was shoved into the corner with fresh sheets pulled over it. A wooden table was pushed against the wall near the door, drawers empty. On top of it, there was a Swiss watch. It seemed fairly new, but there were a few nicks and scratches on the glass cover that gave its age away. The leather strap had light creases, and it stretched out as you secured it around your wrist. Someone already took it upon themselves to adjust the time.

That was when you noticed a small rectangular package that was sitting next to it.

It was wrapped in brown paper, and pulling back the tape, it unfolded and revealed a bunch of old newspapers that served as wrapping paper. Perplexed, you ripped them off, and found a weird device. Wrapped around it was some kind of wiring. Sifting through the papers for some sort of explanation, you search for a note of some kind but to no avail. You never seen something like it before, and asked around the safehouse (except him) what it was. They told you it was recently produced, and that it was basically a portable cassette player. No one seemed to know who gave it to you, or if they knew, they wouldn't reveal it to you. Whoever it was, you were thankful for. 

Having music blasted into your ears couldn't be more reassuring. The voices were drowned out, and you were able to just listen to the noise of musical instruments and heart-moving vocals. You found it easier to focus in this state. 

There weren't a lot of selections on the tape, and they were also from different genres. You listened to all of them on loop multiple times, even when falling asleep. Seeing how Sims was the supply man around here, you would probably have to ask him about it later. If he was generous enough, you'll see. 

Though, in return, you couldn't hear the talk going around the safehouse. If anyone needed your attention, they would need to tap you on the shoulder, or wave a hand in your view. You developed the ability to roughly read lips so you didn't need to take off your earphones as much, but if anything happened outside your peripherals, you didn't notice.

As for Adler, right when you set eyes on each other, it was like you both, begrudgingly, made a silent pact to avoid each other as much as possible. If one of you happened to be nearby, either you or him would make a detour. And if it just so happened that he needed to talk to you, he would send someone else in his stead to deliver papers or to just advise on what you needed to do next. Sims refused to be the messenger after the second time, and you even saw him talking to Adler in the back corner telling him to suck it up.

“How old are you again? Because this is getting ridiculous. You’re going to have to get used to working with them again, or I will formally write both of you up for therapy,” you heard him say.

Three days after your arrival, a briefing was finally held at twelve o' clock sharp, 

You took a seat on one of the metal stools near the radio station, rotating the knob around and listening to the music stations. Most of them were static, as there wasn't a definitive signal in these parts. Unable to come to a decision, you flipped it off.

Hudson comes around, giving you a small nod when he noticed you had already joined up in front of the board. Everyone else gathered, pulling out stools or sitting on top of the table. You had to nudge Woods to the side just so you could get a view of the evidence that was being put up.

"Finally got ourselves a mission,” Hudson starts. “Our sources informed us about more intel on Soviet activity regarding a catastrophic weapon, and it has Perseus written all over it. Detonating the nukes failed, so this is probably Plan B. As for what, when and where, we don't know yet. With the intel we’re going to obtain, we can find out. The bastard’s been lying low for the longest time, so it’s about time.” 

Hudson points directly at you with the marker in his hand.

"Bell, you're in on this one."

You perked up immediately as Hudson mentioned your name, taking out your earphones. It almost felt unbelievable. After months without having anything to do, you finally had the opportunity for some action, and the first thing was being deployed on a mission. It felt like a welcome back gift from Hudson in a way. Or maybe it was his way of apologizing. With that man, you could never tell. 

"You'll be providing distance support with Woods as Adler and Mason go in to snag our prize."

You nod, fixing your posture. Truth be told, you weren't exactly paying attention, since you expected just to stay in West Berlin. But now things were different. 

“As for where, you’ll be going back to East Berlin. The Iron Curtain is still strong, and security is tighter than ever since last time. The two groups will enter through different ways, more details on that later. You’ll both head to this area—” Hudson circles a place on the map, just between East Berlin and the border of Poland. 

“You’re going in light. You'll be dressed as civilians, and the CIA informant I mentioned will meet you here, get the guns you need. From there, it’s all or nothing. Try not to cause mayhem.” He tosses the marker onto the desk. “Questions?”

"Yeah, I have one. Any reason as to why you need Bell on this one?"

All eyes turned to the speaker, which was none other than Adler. You gritted your teeth, annoyance already beginning to make its rounds. Of course he would pull something like this.

"Is there a reason as to why we shouldn't?" Hudson replies coolly. "Bell already proved themselves back at Solovetsky. That's enough for me."

"Yeah, what the idea, Adler?" Woods challenged, hopping off the table he sat on. He strided over to Adler, confronting him face to face. "Something wrong with Bell?"

"Bell hasn't exactly had the healthiest of minds as of lately,” Adler states coldly, getting up from his seat to meet Woods eye to eye. “One fatal mistake and the mission's compromised."

"It's not like Bell was given a choice on that matter, considering what you've all done," Mason joins in with a blatant distaste. "Unless… there's something else you’re hiding."

Adler shot a glance towards your direction, and you sent him a death stare in return. He contemplated for a moment, before backing down against Woods. 

You couldn't tell what was going on inside that mind inside of his and you hated it. You couldn’t even catch a breath whenever he was around, and his mere presence or thought of him agitated you. Despite pledging to yourself not to let him get an advantage over you, he never failed to piss you off in some form.  

"Bell's going on the mission, Adler, whether you like it or not. Work as a team. They didn't go through a psych evaluation for fun," Hudson affirms. "You all leave the first week of August."

Once the meeting was dismissed, you put your earphones back on, turning the music back to its max volume. You grabbed a small roll of bandages from the back storage, wrapping them around your hands as. The punching bag seemed like a great idea at the moment for blowing off steam, and you headed over before you could bash a wall in. 

Testing the weight of it, you propel it away from you, stopping it when it returns. Getting used to it, you gave it a final push.

When it rounded towards you, you sent a clean jab to its side and watched it recoil upon impact. 

You continued this cycle, increasing your hits each time as you relinquished your anger. What the hell was his problem?

There was a tap on your shoulder, causing you to jump. You resisted the urge to instinctively draw back a fist, instead holding it at your side.

Turning around, you found Woods waiting patiently with a stern, but intrigued, expression.

"What is wrong with you?" you growl.

"You're going to go deaf with that shit blasting in your ears. I could hear it a mile away," he advised.

"Is that what you came here to tell me?" You return back to the bag as Woods just took a seat on top of the table nearby.

"You gotta put more 'oomph' into it, Bell. Put the hips to work."

"If I wanted tips, I would ask Sims." 

Regardless, you adjusted accordingly and delivered a series of jabs and hooks to the bag in front of you. Although better, there was still room for improvement. But, you couldn't concentrate now with Woods silently judging you with crossed arms, but you obeyed every suggestion he gave. Put your weight more on the tips of your toes, keep moving, etcetera. Sweat was already beginning to run down your forehead, your shirt sticking to your skin and the threads of the bandages fraying.

Heaving, you stop assaulting the bag when you start to feel your chest constrict. Something white flashes just outside your peripherals, and you quickly catch the towel Woods tossed. 

"Why don't you take a break and talk with me for a bit?" 

Sighing exasperatedly, you pull out your left earbud and you unwrap the bandages. He was unusually persistent today, but you knew he was too stubborn to be ignored. "Okay, let's hear it."

"Well, to start off, you looked kinda pissed earlier."

"Did I?" you questioned curtly, flexing your fingers. "Maybe I just have that kind of face."

"Don't be a stick in the mud, it wouldn't kill you to talk about it. You know me, I can keep secrets."

"Because you're the expert in quiet."

"Of course I–" He cuts himself off in realization. "Did Mason tell you that?"

"Probably."

"Goddammit," he swears under his breath. "Anyways, Bell. Let's talk."

You hummed in response. Mason did say he was a good listener. No wonder they were buddies. "Before we do, tell me what happened to Mason. He said he went through the same shit I did."

"Weird way to start off, but yeah, it’s some fucked up stuff, really." He hands you a water bottle, which chug instantly. "Mason was originally brainwashed to be a sleeper agent for the commies. They gave him the ability to read some sort of numbers. I don’t really get it myself, but Hudson and Weaver were getting desperate, and needed to find out what they were. They strapped him into a chair… gave him a harsh time. That kind of crap."

You wipe away excess water from the corner of your mouth. "Sounds like you guys go far back."

Woods chuckles. "'Far back doesn't even cover it." 

"Why do you want to talk, anyway? Before, I was the one to initiate the conversation."

"I just want to get up to date with you," he claims, although you could detect some kind of hidden intention behind his words.

You roll your eyes. "I'm serious, Woods. Did Adler put you up to this?"

"It always goes back to Adler doesn't it? You asked Mason the same thing." 

“And if I did?” 

"Just talk to the guy he’s really bothering you. Hell, I’ll turn a blind eye if you happen to sock him in the jaw again.”

You smirk at his thoughtfulness. “Inciting violence in the workplace now?”

“Don’t tell Hudson,” Woods jokes. “But, in all seriousness Bell, what's up?”

"Nothing." You eyed him for a bit. He had a raised brow and tapping a finger, just waiting for you to tell him anything. It was clear that he didn't plan on leaving you alone, so you took a seat on the floor. "You should learn how to mind your own business."

"Come on.”

"No."

“I’m not going to shut up until you do.”

"Fine." You lower your voice just enough so Woods could hear. It took a bit to force the words out, but knowing the type of guy Woods was, you felt a bit more confident. "Truth be told, I… don't think Adler's exactly happy to have me back."

"How so?"

"You're kidding, right?" You scoff. "You saw what happened earlier. Bossman didn't even want me on the mission."

"A dick move on his part."

"No shit." You gave a heavy sigh. "I-I don't know. It's what I expected, but it still hurts. Like, I worked with the guy, and he shoots me in the end… Maybe a small part of me expected him to be a bit apologetic."

"When you've been doing this kind of work for years, you'll experience some stuff. By all means I'm not defending him, but seeing a body you got rid of come back to life isn't exactly easy to come to terms with."

You roll your eyes. "Wow, I feel so much better."

“Hear me out, Bell,” he starts, and you prepared yourself mentally for a long talk. “When you were MIA, there was a part of me that wished you were alive. Even being told that you had supposedly ran back to Red, it didn't feel like you would do that, you know? But we had no other choice but to accept it as reality. 

"Hudson dismissed the team shortly after that. We went back home, left the safehouse behind for a good year and a half, we thought our work was done. Then we got a call, saying that there's been suspicious activity relating to Perseus going amuck, and then fast forward to today, we’re back where we started. The place felt a bit empty without you, kid."

"You missed me?"

"Fuck yeah we did! Having someone a bit younger on the team really livens up the mood don't you think? Another newbie to bully a bit. So think of this as making up for lost time."

"That's nice to hear, I guess."

Woods scratches the back of his head. Talking to you was harder than he thought, especially since you were so adamant on hating Adler. It wasn't his job to maintain your relationships in the workplace, sure, but you having this mindset would hurt yourself and everyone else in the long run. Plus, he hated seeing you like this.

"I'm sure Adler's just trying to wrap his head around this,” he comes to say. “Just give him time. He was ordered to kill one of his own, after all."

"On the contrary, isn't it me that should be 'given time'?” you challenged. “I'm the one that took the bullet, not him. It's his fault for being a lousy shot, and me being here is the consequences of his own actions."

Why should you give Adler the benefit of the doubt? Clearly he didn't feel any remorse for what he did. While you have yet to speak a word to him, it felt like he personally had it out for you. Adler should have to deal with you, not the other way around. And the stunt from earlier further proved your point.

"Just think about it, Bell. We all have our own emotional baggage. I'm not saying that yours isn't important, but everyone has their own shit to deal with. What I'm saying is to just let things play out. You never know."

"Because you definitely have the experience of being presumed dead by your best friends," you utter sarcastically under your breath. 

Admittedly, hearing everyone's stories so far about how they felt during your absence was heartwarming. You thought it would be awkward trying to settle back in, but instead they all welcomed you back with open arms despite the lies they've been told. 

Woods’s expression drops slightly, like he had just remembered an unpleasant memory. "Well…"

You perk up, raising your eyebrows, suddenly a bit interested in hearing his story.  "...You're joking."

He smiles wryly. “You know Kravchenko, right? Had a bit of an encounter with the man, and needless to say, he’s on my shitlist now. Mason and I have it in for him, that guy is dead the moment we see him.”

“What happened?” 

The veteran adjusts his sitting position, leaning back on his hands and giving out a loud sigh.

“We were caught by a few Viet Cong soldiers, forced to play Russian roulette. Scariest fucking thing I’ve done, you Russians are deranged as hell. But, we managed to make it out of there and turned the place into a living hell. Then, there was Kravncheko, beating the shit out of Mason, so I stabbed the fucker in the back. And he still wouldn't kick the bucket, and decided to pull a damn grenade. So, I took him on a trip, right out the window."

"You survived?" you say in awe. Woods really had a way of telling stories.

"I ain't dying to the likes of him! But, he came to first, and then threw me into a POW camp, before shipping me off to Da Nang. But I wasn't going to fucking die in that shithole, so here I am now."

"Hm, I guess we have something in common now,” you grin.

"Well, now that I told you some of my history…" Woods hops off the table to sit beside you. He props a knee up to rest his arm on, and it reminded you of a child who's excited for a bedtime story. "You need to share some of yours."

You gave a dry laugh, shaking your head. "...You set me up for this."

"C'mon. Sharing is caring."

"I'm not a storyteller."

"Well you are now."

0000

“Bell sure has taken a liking to the Walkman.”

Adler looked up from his station, and found Lazar standing across from him. 

Taking a peek over in your direction, you sat alongside Woods near the punching bag. You were both exchanging something he didn’t know about, and even saw Woods giving him a few glares over the shoulder. Shortly after though, the conversation turned lighthearted, both of you laughing at something.

"Mason!" you shouted. "Did I ever tell you about the time where Woods assaulted the mannequin?!"

Woods jumped up. "Bell! What the fuck?!"

"Oh shit, sorry."

The Walkman Lazar referred to was poking out of your back pocket, playing whatever cassette tape inside. A wire poked out from the end of it, before parting into two, leading to your ears.

“What about it?” Adler says flatly, before resuming his work on the mission files.

You haven’t spoken a word to him. Not one bit. Even after he questioned Hudson's choices. Whenever he did talk to you, if he even tried to, you would only nod or shake your head in response to him, and the only time you would look at him was to scowl. He noticed you would flinch slightly at the tone of his voice, and he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty about it. Or how you would lock the door whenever you went to rest. 

Not only that, but it was clear that you were talking to everyone else but him. It had taken some time for you to warm up to the rest of the members again, but it was noticeable that you were closer to Lazar and Mason. While they weren't full blown paragraphs, you would engage in brief conversations with them frequently. You were on close terms with Woods and Mason, and Sims was decent. For Hudson, at least, whenever he dropped by, you answered with single word statements. And you hated Hudson.

So if you hated Hudson, how did you feel about him?

“You haven’t been exactly doing your best at trying to reconnect with Bell either, you know,” Lazar points out, before taking another bite from his food. 

“Are you implying that I take initiative instead?”

Lazar shrugs. “If what you call earlier 'taking initiative', you need a new approach.”

Adler had nailed it relentlessly into you that you’ve known him and Sims since Vietnam, but the truth was that you only knew each other for a few months. He couldn't exactly waltz up to you, declare an apology, and expect everything to be how it was before you found out. So, he could only hope you were faring well, or managing a way to deal with it all.

"I'll think about it," was all he said. 

"If you say so. You need ideas? Let me know." Lazar was about to walk away, before pausing and turning back. "Drinks tonight?"

"Ask Woods. He's been dying for one."

Lazar laughed before departing.

Thinking about what he had told him, Adler couldn't help but feel a little spark of relief. If one were to look closely enough, the corners of his mouth were upturned slightly in a smile. It wasn't noticeable to the naked eye, but it was there. 

He was the one who left you the Walkman after all, so to hear that you favored it dearly was a plus one in his books.

0000

Giving out a loud yawn, you slapped your cheeks trying to keep yourself awake.

It was now the first week of August, and it was just your luck that you couldn't get a good night's sleep the day prior. As exhausted as you were, you've been looking forward to getting back onto the field. Hopefully you weren't as rusty as Woods claimed.

"I'm surprised you never shot the asshole yet."

You looked up from your scope at the building across from you, where Woods sat comfortably. Adjusting your grip on the rifle, you resumed to survey the streets below you, noting the positions of bystanders and patrolling guards. 

"Shot who?"

Berlin was just as depressing as it was the last time you were there for the Volkov mission. Sneaking through the U-Bahn, meeting up with Greta Keller and her asking you of a favor; breaking into the apartment due to Lazar (graciously) volunteering you, only to be compromised thanks to Lukas Richter, whom you let free beforehand. The dark side of you would have loved to put a bullet through the backstabbing traitor, but Belikov did the job for you (unfortunately).

“Damaged goods.”

You worked with Adler on that mission.

“Oh.” You had answered your own question. “Truth be told, the thought never really crossed my mind. But, now that you mentioned it…”

You adjust your position, now looking down at an alleyway a good distance from where you were perched. You trained your crosshair to be about the height of a six foot male, pointing it directly at the corner of the wall. 

“You’re sick, Bell,” Woods’ voice echoed in your earpiece. “You know that?”

“Bastard did say that I didn’t have ‘the healthiest of minds’,” you retort, doing an awful mimicry of Adler’s voice. 

“I can hear you.”

Good.

"It's Mason. Look sharp, we're in position."

The building of interest wasn't as large as you thought it would be. Apparently it's an old apartment building with a clothing shop on the first floor. There were no occupants, most likely forced to relocate upon the start of the war. 

Zooming out, you see Mason and Adler round the corners on opposite sides of the building, wearing the uniforms of local police. Mason was on the left side, and Adler on the right. They took positions next to the door. You could hear Adler countdown, and you held your breath as they both opened their doors simultaneously, peeking inside before slithering in and shutting the door.

“First floor clear. Moving to second.”

Your vision was limited, but you kept an eye on the windows on each floor, waiting for any suspicious activity. Everything was going smoothly so far, the duo having no issues as they continued up the building. 

You saw something shift. “Heads up, movement on the fourth floor,” you utter into your earpiece. 

“Got it,” Adler confirms over comms. 

After a moment of time passed, the weather started to turn sour. It almost seemed like the weather reflected the mood of the people: the skies completely dark and rain continuously pouring. The rumbling cracks of thunder rolled in following the flashes of lightning. You winced at the first clap of thunder.

“Don’t tell me you're afraid of a little thunder, kiddo,” Woods taunts from his end. 

“I was just caught off guard.” 

“Third and fourth floor clear.”

Mason and Adler rendezvous on the fourth floor, and you could see Mason drag a body out of view as Adler closed the door. They converged in the middle of the room, but a wall blocked your view. 

“What the hell? Is this what we came here for?” Mason voiced in disappointment.

“Why, what is it?” 

You couldn’t hear the reply over the clap of thunder. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You felt uneasy, the operation was going by too smoothly. The guards around the area never so budged from their spot, instead chatting away with their partners, or too busy being held up on unsuspecting bypassers. You wiped away the raindrops from your scope using your finger, before taking the chance to sweep another view of the streets once again.

Another flash of white and a clap of thunder. 

"Mason, Adler? What's the hold up?" Woods asks. You both waited for a response, only to hear static. He repeated the question again with more urgency. 

Nothing again.

"Shit…" you cuss under your breath. You couldn't see anything from the window. 

Looking at your watch, the team was supposed to meet at the extraction point in twenty-five minutes. From there, you would be taken back to West Berlin. But Mason nor Adler had confirmed anything, and you were all going to fall behind schedule at this point.

Contemplating the choices, you folded the bipod for your rifle. You wouldn't have time to dismantle the attachments, so you threw the strap around your shoulders to let it hang from your back. Whipping out your sidearm, you loaded in a few bullets and adjusted the silencer at the end. 

“Woods, I’m going in,” you announce, already dashing towards the edge of the roof. “Cover me.”

“Dammit Bell, wait—”

“Don’t worry about it. I got this.”

Vaulting over the edge, you slide downwards on top of a metal shed, before landing on a balcony. You cursed silently as your equipment banged and jingled with every movement you made. Praying that the Stasi had horrible hearing, you lean over the rail, checking to see if there was anyone patrolling under you. With the coast clear, you tested the strength of a nearby pipe before climbing down on it. 

You could feel it just waiting to give out any moment, but you made it down without any trouble. Landing with a thud, the alley was dark, scarcely illuminated by the streetlights. Rain was pouring down, the sound of the droplets hitting the pavement covering your tracks. 

Rounding the corner, one soldier stood alone. They had a cigar in their mouth, and you could smell the fumes making its way your direction. The smell of nicotine and tobacco made you sick to the stomach for some reason. You waited for the next boom of thunder to occur, and when it did you snuck up behind them. 

Covering their mouth and having a good choke hold on them, you dragged them back into the depths of the alley where light couldn't reach, before snapping their neck. You put the body inside a nearby bin, and continued on your way.

"Woods, how's it looking over there?" you whisper.

"Still no sight of them. Are you sure you got this?"

"This is me we're talking about."

You stuck close to the walls, making sure to avoid any well lit areas. The clothing shop was just across the street, and you didn't have a clear path. Clicking your tongue in annoyance, you looked for any other possible routes nearby. A couple of patrol cars were lined up alongside a makeshift barricade towards your right. There were two figures sitting on the hood of one of them.

"Hey, need your help on something. At your four o'clock. Two on the car. You take the one on the left."

"Got it."

"On my mark…" you began to count down, steadying your crosshairs onto their head. The rumbling of thunder started to go off as you held your breath to steady your aim. "Now!"

The thunder drowned out the sound of the silencers, and you quickly ran over to the cars as lightning flashed. 

"Good hit."

Working quick, you pulled both of their bodies off the car and shoved them under it, tucking their arms and legs in. The rain was already cleaning the blood off the car, not noticeable from a distance.

You let yourself catch a breath before moving behind the next car. Peeking over the trunk, you could see that the attentions of a couple police officers were pointing towards the general area of Woods position, and you prompted him to move to a different area. "They got eyes on you Woods, try find a better area before they start moving."

“Well, time to pack it up. You’ll be on your own for a bit, kid.”

Entering the shop, there were racks of clothing pushed up on the sides. A few shirts were strewn across the ground, and the cash register was propped open and rusty. The lights were off, the streetlights casting a dim glow inside. An open door was behind the counter, leading to a flight of stairs. 

Going up, all the doors leading to each floor were wide open, and taking a peek inside, there was no one. It was eerily quiet, to a point where your light footsteps echoed. The building appeared smaller when you viewed it from afar, but travelling up 

Pulling the door open to a crack, you peered inside and saw that a group of Stasi were gathered around something on the floor. They were speaking erratically in German, trying to figure out what to do. Leaning in a bit more, you realize that they were surrounding the Adler and Mason, who were on the floor. They weren't moving at all.

Were they dead? 

No, there was no way. They wouldn't go down without a fight. But the simple thought of it made you sick to your stomach.

Whipping out a flashbang, you ripped the door open and threw it in as hard as you can. A blinding light flashed before you. Squinting through the brightness, you took the one closest to you as hostage, letting them absorb any bullets that fly your direction. You popped one shot into each of the guards, four in total, before adding your makeshift bulletproof jacket to the pile. They fell to the ground, clutching their chests as they drew their final breath. You stepped over them, kicking their arms aside. 

“Well, I found them.”

“How do they look?”

Adler and Mason remained unmoving as you got to them. Squatting, you leaned close to check if they were still breathing.

You gave a sigh of relief. “Unconscious.”

“Well we don’t have all night, Bell. Wake ‘em up, I hear police cars approaching the area.”

“Yeah, give me a couple minutes.”

You brought your hand up to Adler’s face, about to deliver a good slap to wake him up, but you stopped midway, noticing his rather peaceful expression despite the situation.

There were strands out of place from his normally styled hair, and his sunglasses were just about to slip right off the tip of his nose. Finally, the man was quiet. But, you had to admit, the more you looked at him, you couldn't help but find him rather–

What the fuck is wrong with me?

This was the guy that tried to kill you. The one that didn’t want you on the damn mission. And yet why did you feel this way? 

Brushing aside your thoughts, you propped Adler against the wall, only to notice that there was a hole in his side. Lifting up his shirt, there was a bullet wedged inside him. It wasn’t lodged in too deep and didn’t hit any important arteries or parts. You whipped out your med kit, pulling out a large gauze pad and some tape. 

"Bell?"

Adler stirred awake on his own as you worked on him. You didn't even notice him becoming conscious until he groaned and adjusted his weight. His hand shot towards his side instinctively as you applied pressure but you slapped it away. 

"Glad to know you still care at least," he comments in amusement as you cleaned the area.

"Don’t patronize me."

A look of astonishment played on Adler’s face as you scowled at him. You just spoke to him.

As much as you wanted to argue with the guy, you slapped the gauze over his abdomen, securing it tightly with tape before bringing out your roll of bandages. It wasn't the best of treatments, so he would have to fix it up back at the safehouse.

"Are we on speaking terms again?"

"Don't make me regret my decision,” you spat. 

You couldn't stand it. The silent treatment you were giving him was already difficult to maintain with Adler always having some kind of remark or witty statement at his disposal, and your first instinct was to retort back with any insult that came to mind. 

And with that, you purposely tightened the knot of Adler's bandage, gaining a little satisfaction seeing him wince. "Ouch."

"God you never shut up, do you?"

Though, you had to admit, it felt a bit more relaxing to finally talk to him.

You moved over to Mason, giving his face a few slaps. It took a bit, but he stirred awake, his hand automatically going to touch the back of his head. "Ugh, the hell?"

"Get up, don't have much time." You pass him his rifle, pulling the lever back for him. Mason groggily got up to his feet, taking the gun out of your hands. "Woods, how's it looking out there?"

"They're making a barricade around the area. Our escape route is blocked."

"Well shit," Mason chimes in. "How long until exfil?"

Adler looks at his watch. "Five minutes. Not enough time."

"Well, we'll just have to make do, don't we?" You kick one of the downed rifles towards Adler. 

He picks it up all while maintaining a stony expression. You could tell he was resisting the urge to lecture you, but had the decency to pick his own fights. 

Adler hops right back up, even taking the time to brush himself off. "How do I look?"

"Pathetic," you remark.

"Are you two done flirting?" Mason yells from the stairwell, sticking his head through the door. 

The three of you urgently made your way down, taking a bit of a shortcut by vaulting over the railing.

"There should be a car nearby," you tell them. "Woods, meet us at the coffee shop around the corner, we'll do a drive by."

“Well you better haul ass, cause we got friends!”

Running out to the street, Adler and Mason follow your lead while keeping their weapons up. The rain showed no signs of letting up, and the police sirens were getting closer. You went to the nearest car and pulled at the door handle. "Of course it's locked," you hiss under your breath. 

You break the window using your elbow and reach in to unlock the door. Some idiot left the keys inside the car so you slid it into the ignition and revved it awake. "Get in!"

Slamming on the gas, you didn’t give them the chance to close the door as the car lurched forward. The tires screeched loudly under you, leaving marks on the pavement as you sped off. Red and blue lights flooded the darkness, and you turned the wheel sharply to avoid the building. 

“Mason, get your door open! Woods is going to be on that side!” you bark over the gunfire. You hear the rear window being pelted relentlessly, Adler and Mason ducking to avoid the bullets. He forcibly kicks the door open, but it just breaks right off and strays away as you drove down the street.

“The zone’s too hot! Woods might as well be a beehive if he tries to jump in here!” Adler exclaims while reloading. 

You dove your hands to your side, fishing out a small C4 and handing it over to him. “Try not to shoot at me this time around, will you?”

“Very funny.”

Adler uses the butt of his rifle to knock out the remaining glass from the back window. Seeing a good opportunity, he tosses the C4 out, and shoots it with perfect precision. Orange and yellow raged outward in the air, shaking the entire vehicle and causing you to swerve a bit. From the mirror, you could see a couple of police cars flip over.

The coffee shop was just a click away, and you could see Woods taking cover behind a raised flower bed made from stacked bricks. You honked the horn to let him know of your presence, and he poked his head out.

You slam on the breaks while gassing at the same time, tugging the wheel towards the left and bringing the car to a small drift. It stops in front of Woods, who dives right in while giving out a cheer.

"Nice driving, Bell!” 

And with everyone back together, you speed off into the night, leaving behind another mess once again in East Berlin. Hudson wouldn't be exactly ecstatic to hear about it, but the job was done.

#russell adler #russell adler x reader #russell ader x bell #cod black ops cold war #black ops cold war #call of duty #bo:cw #text #bell #call of duty x reader #call of duty imagine #fanfic #oh boy just wait for the next chapter its all over for you all #abcd briefing

[nugnthopkns]

dance me to the end of love (iv)

word count: 4.1k

warnings: fem!oc, cursing, alcohol consumption

series masterpost: here

a/n: my apologies for the delay!! life got crazy for a bit but i'm back with my two favourite idiot intellectuals

Magdalene stays busy to keep the loneliness at bay.

All of her friends have left Denver, doing whatever it is that hockey players and their partners do in the off-season. She never expected them to stay to keep her company, and would certainly never ask. Besides, they were all so excited to go home and visit family. How could she disrupt their happiness just so she wouldn’t feel so alone? It isn’t her fault that Ryan, Bette, and company aren’t estranged from their families like she is. At twenty-five she should be a little more self sufficient than what she currently is, but Magdalene is working hard at being kinder to herself.

To combat the pervasive loneliness Magdalene spends a lot of time in the heart of downtown Denver. Under normal circumstances she would hate the crowds, but now they comfort her. The swaths of tourists walking the streets and approaching her to take family photos make her feel like a part of something bigger than the pity she finds herself wallowing in often. Barn Owl Books also becomes a frequent retreat when she has downtime, and the owners enjoy when she brings Caligula around. Other patrons adore the white cat and he loves the attention.

One day as she’s leaving work, once again offering to stay late so June doesn’t have to, Magdalene’s phone rings. She contemplates not picking it up, wanting nothing more than to curl into bed with the novel she picked up at Barn Owl the other day, but she knows it must be important. No one ever calls her around this time unless it’s absolutely necessary. Digging the phone out of her pocket, she sees the number of her building superintendent Paul flashing on the screen.

“Hello?”

“Miss Stevenson?” he asks, voice tinged with the toughness that comes with dealing with upset renters on a regular basis.

Magdalene chuckles at the formality, pointing out he hasn’t called her by her last name since she moved in five years ago. “Yeah Paul, it’s me. What’s up?”

There’s the crackle of static on the phone line as the man clears his throat. “So, uh, some bad news.” Magdalene’s stomach twists into an intricate knot. She knows she paid rent on time and can’t think of another reason he’d call her. “A sprinkler main on the floor above yours burst about an hour ago, and it’s pretty bad. Your place definitely got hit the hardest because it’s directly under where the pipe burst. You’re going to have to move out for at least two months while we gut the place and start from scratch. How quickly can you come and get the things that are salvageable from your apartment?”

“Fuck.” This is the worst news Magdalene has ever received. “I can be there in fifteen minutes,” she panics, “But Paul, you’ve gotta go inside and check on my cat. He’s going to be freaking out.”

Paul agrees to visit Caligula after some prodding, and Magdalene drives much faster than she ever has before through the neighbourhood. It’s far from reckless, but she knows that it isn’t the safest course of action. A police officer stops her about three minutes from her final destination but lets Magdalene go after she explains the situation as calmly as possible.

Other tenants affected by the flood are already moving boxes down the stairs when Magdalene pulls up. Everyone is understandably grief stricken, but she can’t find it in herself to console them like she would under normal circumstances. All Magdalene cares about is making sure Caligula is okay. She sprints up the four flights of stairs and doesn’t even break a sweat, adrenaline flooding her veins. Her apartment door is ajar, most likely from Paul entering a few minutes ago, and she flings it open with more force than probably needed. It swings back violently on its hinges and makes a spectacular crash when it hits the wall.

“Caligula?”

“He’s in the bathroom,” Paul sighs. “I can’t get him out of the tub but he’s still breathing. Is he not scared of water?”

Magdalene lets out a breath of relief she didn’t know she was holding in. She treads deeper into the apartment, casually assessing the damage, before reaching the room in question. There, pressed against the far corner of the tub, is the fluffy white cat that Magdalene’s heart beats for most days. Paul is there too, leaning against the sink and shaking his head.

“Thank you,” Magdalene says sincerely. “I’ve got it from here.”

The superintendent exits the unit with a solemn goodbye and heads to the lobby, no doubt going to direct traffic flow and answer questions. It takes a few minutes but Magdalene coaxes the cat out of the tub and into her arms. She holds him tightly and whispers words of praise, knowing it will help to calm them both down. After an uncounted amount of minutes Magdalene moves them into the bedroom, that looks surprisingly intact upon first glance, and changes out of her work clothes and into something more suitable for rummaging around her destroyed home. Caligula climbs up her body and settles gingerly into the hood on her sweatshirt. She starts in the bedroom, and finds that the only thing that’s actually salvageable is the clothes in her closet. Grabbing the suitcase from the top shelf, Magdalene shoves everything inside of it and wheels it into the living room.

She spends the next few hours going through every room in a meticulous manner, desperate to keep relics from her life in Denver. The water did a number on her space and destroyed almost everything. All the furniture is a write-off, and most of her books and records are ruined. Two things that withstood the damage are faux marble busts of Augustus and Marcus Aurelius, which Magdalene packs into one of the boxes Paul dropped off. Everything else fits in three other boxes and they’re tucked into the trunk of her car before the sun sets. Paul insists that the demolition company will get rid of everything else and ensures her she won’t have to pay rent while the construction is going on. It isn’t much of a consultation, considering that Magdalene has no idea where she’ll be staying, but she thanks him anyways as she makes the final trip to her car with Caligula.

Once inside, Magdalene breaks down. She has no idea what to do – no one is in Denver to help her out and she can’t afford to stay in a hotel for however many months this is going to take to fix. Tyson and Bette will be back in just over a month, but Magdalene doesn’t want to bother them or guilt them into coming back early. She cries in the driver’s seat of her car for a while, Caligula on her lap and doing his best to lick up the tears streaming down her cheeks. Not knowing what else to do, she dials Ryan’s number. Though they haven’t been talking as frequently due to the time difference and Magdalene’s insistence he enjoys his time with family, she knows he’ll pick up and listen intently. He’ll also hopefully talk her down from the imaginary ledge she’s found herself on.

He picks up on the second ring. “How’s my favourite girl?” Ryan asks, and Magdalene can hear the smile in his voice. The combination of his voice and the words spoken has her choking on another sob. “Hey, hey, breathe.” Concern is now the primary emotion expressed through the phone line. “Mags, what’s the matter?”

It takes her a few seconds and multiple pads of Caligula’s paws into her stomach for Magdalene to calm down, but she eventually tells Ryan what happened. He listens just as she thought he would, and keeps her breathing steady with his voice. She cries a bit more before running out of tears, but Ryan keeps her focussed on anything but the shitty circumstance she’s found herself victim to – detailing how he skated with Nate earlier in the day and just how many times his teammate kicked his ass. Hearing the mundane story helps more than Magdalene thought it would, and when Ryan asks her where she’s going to stay she responds with a relatively strong voice.

“I’m just going to sleep in my car.”

“Fuck no you aren’t.” The certainty in which Ryan utters the words takes Magdalene by surprise. For someone so far away, he has a lot of opinions on what she should be doing.

She sighs. “There isn’t another option Ry. I can’t afford a hotel for the months my apartment is going to be out of commission and there’s no point in renting another place.”

“Stay with me.”

A series of flabbergasted noises come out of Magdalene’s dropped jaw, but she can’t form any words. Ryan continues, “Think about Caligula. Being cramped in a car isn’t going to be good for him. Or for you. I have an extra bedroom you can call your own for as long as you need. Please Mags.”

Truthfully, it’s the best she’s going to get. Bette and Tyson offered to house a couple of rookies this season, meaning their spare rooms are filled, and there’s no one else she’s close enough with to think about asking. “I don’t want to intrude,” she sighs, but it isn’t a very convincing deflection.

“I want you there,” Ryan insists, “And little boots too.”

It takes them a while to work out the logistics, but Ryan makes a couple of calls and lets the doorman of his building know Magdalene is moving in. He also books a flight for the next day, and ensures her that he’s more than ready to come back to Colorado. They talk for a few more minutes, and in that time she gets directions to her temporary home. Once Ryan hangs up with well wishes and a see-you-soon, Magdalene looks in her rear-view mirror and sets out for a part of Denver she never thought she’d live in.

☼☼☼☼

When Magdalene calls Bette to fill her in on what’s been going on while on the way to pick Ryan up from the airport, the blonde is taken aback by the surplus of information. “Hold on,” she breathes, “Ryan’s coming back to Denver?”

“What part of ‘I’m on my way to the airport to pick up Ryan’ was confusing?” Magdalene laughs.

Her friend doesn’t find the jest funny. “Fuck off.” The comment only increases Magdalene’s laughter, but Bette forges on with the conversation. “Can you recap the events that led to Ryan leaving home nearly three weeks early?”

Magdalene indulges her friend, explaining for what feels like the hundredth time that her apartment was destroyed in a flood and that Ryan offered her his spare bedroom and that he was coming home so she wouldn’t be alone in the unfamiliar environment. Bette listens in silence, and Magdalene imagines she has a shit-eating grin plastered on her face. She’s made quite a few comments about how friendly the two of them seem, but Magdalene does her best to shrug them off. Ryan can just be her friend, a great one even, without Bette projecting her need to have her best friend to have an identical lifestyle to her. Even if she’s right, and Magdalene does want there to be something more between her and Ryan.

“Hold the phone.” Magdalene hears Tyson shout, no doubt getting closer to his girlfriend so he can join in on the conversation. “Gravy’s letting you stay at his place?”

“Yeah…” she trails off, unsure about what wasn’t clear this time.

Tyson hums as though he’s an old-school anthropologist who just made an astute observation about the group they’re studying. “Interesting.”

“How so?”

“Well for starters, he barely lets us hang out at his place,” Tyson explains. “I think I’ve been there maybe twice. So that’s new. Is Caligula staying with you?”

Magdalene is completely confused. “Why wouldn’t he be? He’s my cat.”

“How does Gravy feel about it?”

“What the fuck are you getting at Tys?” Magdalene asks, but there’s a bite to the question. She’s tired of the impromptu interrogation he’s providing. “Because Ryan was excited to have him around. Last night I sent him a video of little boots prancing around the condo like he owned the place and he thought it was hilarious.”

Bette, who had been silent for several minutes, gasps loudly. Tyson laughs, but Magdalene can tell it’s riddled with disbelief. “Mags,” he says gently, though with more than enough teasing laced in, “Gravy isn’t a big pet guy.”

The comment hits Magdalene like a tonne of bricks. What is she supposed to do with that information? There’s only ten more minutes until she gets to the airport, and she needs time to push Tyson’s comment to the back of her brain and collect herself. Magdalene gives a rushed farewell before hanging up the phone and checking her rearview mirror and blindspots. The radio filters back through the car speakers, but she doesn’t hear it, too caught up in what Ryan allowing Caligula to share his space means. There’s little traffic on the off-ramp and before she knows it Magdalene is pulling into a parking space and killing the engine.

She grabs the messily scribbled welcome home banner from the back seat before locking the doors and heading inside to the arrivals section. The inside of the airport looks similar to the empty parking lot – it’s a Tuesday after all. Only a few others wait with her for the plane, and many chat idly amongst themselves. Magdalene stays off to the side in an attempt to not get sucked into a conversation about the upcoming thunderstorm. Passengers slowly trickle through the open door, and Ryan is easy to spot. He towers above everyone and is carrying a rather large bag of hockey equipment. Magdalene smiles at the sight of him, unable to help herself. It’s been nearly a month and a half since she’s seen him and being apart for that long is something she never wants to do again.

“Hi,” she breathes as he approaches, waving awkwardly while she speaks. It’s as though she hasn’t spent countless hours talking with him about every possible topic her mind could dream up.

Ryan doesn’t feel the tension, or if he does he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he wraps her in a tight hug that lasts a touch longer than one with just a friend should, especially in public. Magdalene tries hard not to melt into his side but it’s nearly impossible – Ryan has a magnetic pull that tugs on her heartstrings and makes her insides feel fuzzy. Others bustling around the terminal start to give them strange looks, and it’s only then that Ryan clears his throat and untangles his arms from Magdalene’s waist.

He smiles down at the strong-willed brunette with kind eyes and shoulders his bag once more. “Let’s go home.”

☼☼☼☼

It takes a few days to settle into a routine, but once they do it’s glorious. Training camp doesn’t start for another three weeks, so Ryan spends his day doing light workouts and chilling with Caligula while Magdalene is at work. Once she gets home they make dinner and watch West Wing reruns on the cable network Ryan didn’t know he was even paying for. Their lives fit together seamlessly and it surprises Magdalene just how much she missed having a roommate – Bette moved out after their sophomore year of college, and it’s been just her and Caligula ever since. Though the personal space is nice, she likes being able to hear Ryan laugh at the meme she just sent or knocking on his door in the middle of night to ask if he wants ice cream.

Magdalene wakes up one Saturday to complete silence. It’s unsettling considering she hasn’t heard that since adopting her pet – Caligula sleeps next to her head and breathes loud enough that she’ll never have to buy a white noise machine. She notices her door is slightly ajar and hears soft noises coming from the living room. Ryan must be taking a day off, Magdalene notes, because he’s typically out of the house by seven and it’s currently five minutes past eight. She rolls out of bed and stumbles into the ensuite, brushing the tangles out of her hair and washing her face.

Not bothering to change out the pyjama pants and hoodie she stole from Ryan, Magdalene pads into the sunlit living room to see her roommate doing yoga. On a tiny mat beside him is Caligula, stretching his limbs like he’s following along with the tutorial. The sight is adorable, and before she can think twice about it Magdalene is snapping a photo of the two of them and posting it to her Instagram story.

“You trying to whip my cat into shape Graves?” Magdalene teases, weaving around them and plopping onto the couch, bringing her knees to her chin and holding in a yawn.

Ryan laughs, loud and care-free, and Magdalene wishes he could record the sound and play it on loop. “He kept trying to sit underneath me and I didn’t want to hurt him. I read somewhere that if you give a cat something similar to what you’re doing they’ll leave you alone. Guess it really works.”

Her heart constricts in the best way possible. Ryan continues to go above and beyond to make her and Caligula welcome and doesn’t seem to mind they’re the ones invading his space and not the other way around. There’s still twenty minutes left on the YouTube video he’s watching, so Magdalene pushes herself off the expensive leather sectional and into the kitchen. The least she could do is make breakfast. Deciding on pancakes, Magdalene gets to work prepping the batter and warming up the frying pan. She hums absentmindedly to the Joni Mitchell song playing on the small radio she placed in the kitchen window. Music always made cooking more enjoyable for her, and Ryan doesn’t seem to mind the device taking up space.

The island is set and the food ready by the time Ryan slides into his seat, small beads of sweat lingering on his forehead from the workout. Magdalene resists the urge to wipe them away and instead busies herself with placing the right amount of berries on his plate.

“Mags,” Ryan calls softly, pulling her out of her mind and back down to Earth. “That’s more than enough. Sit down and eat before it gets cold.”

They eat in silence until Caligula appears, meowing for whatever scraps he can get his hands on. Against Magdalene’s pleas Ryan feeds him a blueberry. The cat sniffs it inquisitively before swallowing it, though it comes up again a few moments later.

“You’re cleaning that one up bud,” she laughs, bending down to make sure Caligula is okay before rinsing her plate in the sink.

“Fuck.”

Ryan does as he’s told and helps Magdalene with the dishes before getting ready to head out for an unofficial team meeting. Camp starts in a few days and Gabe wants to get together and make sure they’re all on the same page before barreling head-first into the season. He promises to pick them up a late lunch of sandwiches from Barn Owl and Magdalene follows him to the door to say goodbye. It feels natural, like they’ve always shared this routine, and she knows that Ryan feels it too because he wraps her in a tight hug before petting Caligula one last time and slipping out the door.

Bette calls soon after he leaves and grills Magdalene on all the details of her new living arrangement. She’s still in Canada, spending a few more days there than Tyson to help his mom and sister finish unpacking their things at the house they recently purchased.

“So, have you kissed him yet?”

The question is asked in such a casual, Bette-like manner that Magdalene barely chokes on her water. “Bee, what the fuck?”

“Oh come off it Mags,” she sighs, “You like him. He likes you. The two of you live together now. It’s only a matter of time before the friendship turns into something more.”

The blonde is right about at least one thing – Magdalene has developed a steady crush on Ryan. She should have known being in such close proximity to him all the time would put her feelings into overdrive. However, she didn’t have another option other than to accept his offer when it was proposed nearly a month ago, so Magdalene is now being forced to deal with the repercussions.

“I have, in fact, not kissed Ryan,” Magdalene huffs. “But I’ve thought about it once or twice.”

A squeal tears from Bette’s throat and she forces her friend to share the details. Magdalene obliges mostly to get her off her back, but it does feel good to talk about it with someone. It’s a very long time since she’s had romantic feelings for anyone, and Magdalene is nearly giddy with excitement over the possibility of new-found love by the time Ryan gets home. She says farewell to Bette and promises to come over as soon as they're both in the same city again.

It’s later than both of them expected, so they decide to forgo lunch and instead cook an early dinner. Ryan wants chicken and Magdalene wants spaghetti, so naturally they compromise on a carbonara without the pork. The radio is cranked to the highest volume as they work, both singing along and in their own little worlds. Magdalene is in charge of cooking the pasta and Ryan sets about making the sauce, and more than once she catches him looking at her while he’s supposed to be stirring the mixture. She can’t be too mad, however, because each time their eyes meet she’s supposed to be doing her job too. Before too much time has passed the meal is ready. It cools on two plates while Caligula is fed and wine is poured – the former done by Magdalene because the cat still isn’t quite comfortable enough with Ryan. Once sitting, they raise their glasses in a silent toast and dig in. The pasta tastes heavenly, and Magdalene makes sure to say so.

“Oh my god this is delicious,” she nearly moans, “You have to make this like every night.”

Ryan laughs and raises his fingers in mock salute. “You got it boss.”

Conversation flows into how they spent their hours apart – Ryan gushing about how good it was to see his teammates again and Magdalene talking about how she caught up with Bette on the phone. She of course left out the part where she confessed feelings for her best friend to her other, more senior best friend. Dinner passes in the blink of an eye and soon the two of them are standing side by side at the sink, elbows knocking occasionally as they do the dishes.

“Want to watch a movie tonight?” Ryan asks nonchalantly. “You said earlier this week you wanted to see Clueless again.”

Magdalene smiles – of course he would remember this offhand comment she made a few days ago about the classic. “That sounds fantastic. Can you finish putting these away? I’m going to pop a couple blankets in the dryer to warm up and see if I can get a nice picture of the sunset for Bette, she mentioned on the phone that she’s missing it.”

“She literally hasn’t changed time zones!”

Laughter tumbles from Magdalene’s lips as she slips out of the kitchen. Two fluffy blankets are pulled from the back of the couch on her way down the hall and tossed into the machine. Grabbing the same sweater of Ryan’s she was wearing earlier in the day from the foot of her bed, Magdalene heads for the balcony door and slips through the glass.

The city is nearly silent. Cars pass under Ryan’s balcony like blips in the night, but they don’t dare touch the peaceful atmosphere radiating from Magdalene. She’s had one of the best nights of her life, just her and Ryan laughing over glasses of wine and the pasta dish they cooked together. It’s all so domestic and charged with stolen glances and soft smiles that Magdalene knows it’s more than two friends living together for a short period of time. There’s been a fundamental shift in their relationship but she doesn’t know how to address it, or if she even wants to despite her looming attraction. Being with Ryan is so easy that she forgets it’s only temporary. Realistically she knows it can’t last forever, but she finds herself hoping each day Paul will call and tell her the rebuild is taking longer than expected.

Ryan calls her inside, informing her the blankets are out of the dryer and the movie she picked out days ago is queued up on the television. Magdalene takes a deep breath and finishes her glass of wine in one gulp. Hopefully he won’t notice when she casually leans in and rests her head on his shoulder halfway through the film.

☼☼☼☼

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