#but he ended up having to move back closer to Jill

[spurgie-cousin]

I have the teeniest bit of faith that Phil still has a shot if he can stay away from Jill. During this time that he’s been home, when the camera hasn’t been directly focused on him, he’s been making the faces of someone that would rather be getting a root canal than be where they are in the moment (most notably when the family was opening christmas presents and when David’s mom took the kids to a buffet as their christmas gift). Maybe he’s just got RBF (I do too) but with how long he’s been gone from the house, I feel like there’s a chance that the family facade has shifted for him just the slightest. Has he been away from them longer than Tim was?

Well I definitely hope that's true. Idk I just keep my expectations for the Rodrigues kids low lol so then I can be pleasantly surprised if they do anything..... not Rodrigues-y.

I think Tim was officially in school from 2018-2020, even though he moved schools during that time and sometimes says he's still studying aviation. iirc Phillip started his first year of Bible college a little over a year ago, and then also switched schools and is somewhere new as of last semester. So Tim is the Rodrigues kids who has spent the most unmarried time away from his family.

#honestly it was pretty brave of sheltered tim to go to school in Washington state even for the short time he did #but he ended up having to move back closer to Jill #which is exactly what Phillip did i think? idk #if someone knows his new college let me know i can't remember or find it anywhere #Phillip Rodrigues

[enwoso]

You have somehow managed to make me fall in love with this little universe you created with grumpy and Alessia in such a short amount of time!

Would you be able to write something about when the England squad first found about Alessia having a child and how they handled that on camp and stuff? I feel like there would be quite a lot of protectiveness, especially considering how she's part of the younger group, particulalry from some of the older age groups, like Lucy, Leah, Ellen, Jill, Jordan, Millie ect.

MINI ME — alessia russo x child!reader

*oh my god i love writing this little universe!*

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alessia had never imagined that she'd be a mother at such a young age. she had always dreamt of having a baby at the end of her footballing career while being in a stable relationship, living in a comfortable environment with little to no stress allowing her to enjoy motherhood. the total fairytale fantasy.

however that fairytale fantasy never became a reality as alessia fell pregnant at 20 while in university, after one too many drinks and night with a boy she did trust enough but clearly trusted too much as after she took a test and the two lines displayed on the test telling her she was going to be a mother — he left? he didn't want that type of responsibility at such a young age.

when alessia moved back to england and signed for manchester united she kept you hidden from her teammates worried about what they may say or think, ella being the only one who knew about you. after all she would sometimes look after you when mummy had important adult things to do or pick you up from nursery when mummy couldn’t.

"y/n? where've you gone?" she whisper yelled, looking around the foyer. you were in that toddler stage of hiding at any chance you got, putting your mum on the verge of a heart attack everytime you went out places.

"this isn't the time to play hide a seek lovie!" alessia said, a slight sterner tone in her voice as she looked around for you.

"boo!" you giggled, coming out from your hiding spot from behind the large indoor plants, looking up at your mum a devilish smile on your small face. a pointed look on your mums face as she kneeled down, grabbing your two small hands in hers.

"lovie, what have i told you about hiding, especially when we are in a new place. what if i had of walked away? you would have lost me" alessia reminded you softly as you nodded, your smile that was previously on your face replaced with a pout.

engulfing your mum in a hug, "sorry mummy" you mumbled into her chest as she kissed your forehead.

"i didn't know you had a little sister?" a voice was heard from a distant as alessia handed her passports over to the staff members, getting her room key. the blonde looking around to see who it was before her eyes landed on mille bright, lucy and leah.

alessia could feel her cheeks going redder by the second, as she stood up picking you up with her and placing you on her hip. the blonde beginning to stutter out a a response however you beat her to it with your innocent smile covering you face.

"that my mummy! i no have a sister!" you smiled at the three girls, their eyes almost popping out their head as you spoke. shock consuming them as their jaws hung to the floor.

"oh my god" lucy whispered as she was the first to break the awkward silence. alessia setting you back down on the floor as you were wriggling to be down.

"this is y/n, my daughter" alessia sighed, there being a slight silence as the information was being processed by the three girls head as you walked a little closer to the three girls, leah being the first to react by crouching down to your height. "hi y/n! i'm leah" you smiled nodding at her name looking to the other two girls standing in front of you.

“i’m lucy”

“and i’m millie”

you said a small hi to them as you moved back a little so that you were standing near to your mum, an arm wrapped around her leg. “and how old are you?” leah asked as you hummed thinking as you held up four fingers, “three!”

the girls giggling a little at your confidence, your mummy putting your extra finger down and correcting you, “lovie that’s three”

“ah”

“you play football with my mummy?” you asked, looking at leah but directing your question at all three of the girls. as they nodded all in sync.

“we do and there’s a few more of us too” millie said as you looked back to alessia wondering if she was telling the truth as your mum nodded her head as a little gasp came from you.

“where they?”

“through that long corridor, getting ready for a training session later on” lucy commented pointing to the way before you turned to your mum begging her to let you to go and see everyone else.

your mummy nodding as you grabbed her hand, swinging it a little as you followed the three girls you had just met just moments ago.

“auntie ella!” you yelled as you brushed past lucy and leah as they stood in the doorway, running to get to ella as she looked up from her phone, a smile cracking on her face as her arms opened up for you to run into. faces stopping and watching the interaction with both adoration and confusion.

“hey tiny, you alright!” ella asked as you hugged the girl tight, you hadn’t seen her since the last manchester united game a week ago. your mummy having being busy with getting ready for camp and you being at nursery up until yesterday.

“yep, i met lucy, leah and mille” you proudly said pointing to each girl as they had sat down at a table beginning to talk most likely about boring adult things.

“oh that’s exciting, what about everyone else though?” ella said as you began to shake your head stopping moments later as the midfielder began to twirl the two of you around, giggles escaping from you as she did so. stopping when she got back to her original place.

you looking around the room, a few familiar faces that you had recognised from your mum playing with them in manchester seeing them when you went to games with your grandparents — mary, keets and lotte who you only ever saw if you were down in london. the rest were new people, new people to talk to and share you infectious personality with.

ella took you around each person introducing you to each person with the permission from your mum first of course. the news spreading quickly throughout the camp that you were here and whose daughter you actually were much to many’s surprise.

the day going a lot smoother than alessia could have ever imagined, she had spent the past week thinking over and over about how it was going to go. replaying over and over in her head about how her teammates would react to her having a child.

alessia spent a good part of the afternoon after the introductions were over in the garden of st george’s park explaining her story in depth to those who were most interested; leah, keira, beth, lucy, mille, rachel and ella.

“that must have been so scary, you were so young.” beth whsipers still loud enough for everyone to hear, the girls all so intrigued but also immensely proud of alessia for her whole journey since you had arrived in her life.

as alessia told her story from the start, how she found out she was pregnant to how she came back to football.

“it was, but she’s my reason now. everything i do is for her future” alessia said simply a couple of the girls humming.

“if you ever need anything and i mean anything even if it’s just for someone to talk to, don’t be scared to ask any of us. we’ll always be here for you less” leah said softly but you could hear the protectiveness in her voice, alessia nodding taking in the support of her teammates which had grown to be her family as her eyes trailed over to where you were, the other girls following where the blondes eyes were looking.

“she’s literally a mini you” beth commented the rest of the girls agreeing as they began to list the similarities between you and your mum. as alessia smiled looking at you kicking a football with jordan and georgia

“i know, my mum says all the times that’s she’s a copy and paste of me from when i was little - only difference is she’s a bit more chatty than i was” alessia pointed out, hearing you talk away to jordan about the flowers growing in the ground, as the midfielder picked the ball from around them.

“but i think she gets that from her auntie ella!” alessia grinned looking towards her best friend who threw her hands up in shock.

“hey!”

“mummy! mummy!” you yelled out, the blondes head turning from her conversation towards you as jordan passed the ball to you. “watch this!” you added as toy had the ball at your feet and began to juggle with it from foot to foot.

alessia watched on grinning, as jordan counted the amount you got as georgia cheered you on. a small buzz of excitement coming from you as the ball dropped from your control as you ran over to your mum.

“lovie, that was awesome!” mummy cheered, as she held her hand up for you high five. the other girls saying there well dones. alessia watching as you smile got bigger and bigger with each seconds.

the way you had bonded with the team in hours warmed alessia’s heart to no end. knowing that these girls were going to now be apart of your life forever. her two worlds had joined and she couldn’t even to describe how much she loved it.

“any chance we can borrow her when we play on tuesday!” jordan joked as she and georgia came over slotting in on the seats with the other girls as they laughed but agreeing. as they all fell into a deep conversation.

you climbing up onto your mummy’s lap, as her arms wrapped around your front. a yawn escaping from your lips as you slumped back into your mummy’s chest playing with the rings on her fingers.

liked by keirawalsh and 612,540 others

alessia new day, new faces🩷

comments -

bethmead dibs on being best auntie!

1h 140 likes     reply

-> leahwilliamson no i am

-> georgiastanway no it’s me

-> lucybronze come on guys i obviously win!

-> ellatoone it’s quite clearly me!

-> millebright you all wrong it’s me.

-> maryearps it’s me

-> keirawalsh no me

-> racheldaly its obviously me!

#alessia russo x y/n #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #woso community #woso #woso blurbs #woso imagine #woso x reader #arsenal women #awfc #arsenal wfc #awfc imagine #awfc x reader #england wnt #england women #england #leah williamson #lucy bronze #keira walsh #ella toone #beth mead #rachel daly #millie bright

[greenxgloss]

omg okay only if u want to but the mission is have for u is:

playing 7 mins in heaven w charlie, jill, kirby, etc and you spin the bottle on charlie and end up giving him head in the closet.

“do you want to kiss me charlie?”

“you can touch me wherever you want char”

and a mumbling stuttering charlie who’s never had head and he’s asking a hundred times over “do i do it like this?” or “is this okay?”

i just rewatched all of the scream series and even tho i’m in love with r!euro i can’t stop thinking ab charlie walker :,)

AHHHH OMG I LOVE THIS YOU CLEVER MIND there's just something about cinema geeks

7 Minutes (Charlie Walker)

Summary: you and Charlie join a game of 7 minutes in heaven and when you get your 7 minutes you give the shy virgin more than just a kiss Warnings: NSFW, sub!charlie, charlie receiving oral, soft!dom!reader, praise kink, fem!reader, use of Y/N

"do you plan on making a move tonight?" Kirby asked and you shrugged at her question. "he's totally into you he probably barely even notices me. I'd definitely tear that up if I got the chance though." you said causing the both of you to burst out laughing.

"it got really quiet out there." you joked as you sat on the counter of Jill's kitchen talking to Kirby. you both grabbed your drinks and walked out to the main room to see everyone playing 7 Minutes in Heaven. "now we're talking!" Kirby exclaimed as she pulled you to sit in the circle. "Uh I don't know if I should play." you tried to fight her but she glared at you. "you are playing you prude." she joked causing you and the rest of the group to laugh. "okay jills turn." Robbie said, passing her the bottle.

7 minutes later Jill and Trevor walked back into the room, Jill looking upset and Trevor embarrassed causing you to giggle. he definitely got a lecture in that closet. "okay my turn!" you exclaimed snatching the bottle. "please never make me do that again... Who even invited him??" Jill said, sitting back down next to Charlie. you spun the bottle hoping it would land on him. you'd been fantasizing about Charlie for months but just didn't know how to approach him. you were also sure he was interested in Kirby so you never made a move.

sure enough, it landed on him and you reached for his hand and led him to the closet while everyone giggled and teased him. you blushed though you tried to keep it cool and collected. you were screaming inside. you finally got your hands on him.

you walked him into the closet and closed the door. "uh I've never.." he began but you interrupted him. "it's okay Charlie we don't have to do anything you don't want to do." you told him but he stayed quiet, eyeing your lips, glancing at your cleavage. "Do you want to kiss me, Charlie?" you asked. he nodded but it wasn't enough. "use your words." you pulled him closer and pressed up to him. "I do. I want to kiss you." he said, quietly almost mumbling and something about it made your skin tingle. he wrapped his hands around you and you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.

when you pulled away you could see the tent pitched in his pants. "that's so cute." you cooed as you palmed him gently, causing him to quietly gasp. "Do you wanna touch me? you can touch me wherever you want char." you told him, kissing him again and feeling his hands press to your tits. you moaned quietly into each other's lips. "is that okay?" he asked, whispering. "yes baby you're doing so good." you told him, reaching into his jeans and lightly stroking him and his body tensed.

"its okay you're safe. you have no idea how long i've wanted to get my hands on you." you told him. he blushed. "you fantasize about me?" he asked in a low whisper as you got on your knees. "mhm" you hummed as you unbuttoned his jeans and pulled out his cock. "oh uh-" he stammered, his hands waving around in confusion.

"put your hands on my face." you told him as you guided him. you licked his tip and hooked your tongue under his hood causing him to throw his head back in pleasure. "oh fuck." he moaned out and you immediately put your thumb in his mouth to quiet him. you pull away. "you have to be quiet baby they might hear us. and we have 4 minutes left is that enough for you?" you asked him while you continued to pump him with your free hand.

"yes yes oh fuck yes." he kept his moans quiet. his quiet needy voice soaking you. you couldn't wait to watch him beg for you. "am-am i doing okay?" he asked, pulling away from your thumb. "of course baby you're doing so good for me. you taste so good." you told him and quickly shoved his length into your mouth and bobbed your head. he lightly tugged at your hair, causing you to moan, the vibrations sending him over the edge and he came in your mouth. "fuck Y/N oh god that was so good." he said, hot ropes of cum pouring down your throat.

"you're a virgin but you definitely keep prepared." you laughed. "what? how do you know?" he asked, helping you stand up. "well you were oblivious to what to do but your cum was sweet." you told him as you wiped your mouth and kissed him hard. "times been up for like 2 minutes you dirty dogs." Kirby yelled, banging on the door. charlie and you looked at each other before you giggled and his face flushed.

the both of you walked out and Kirby made a face. "smells like sex in there." she teased, all the boys patting Charlie on the back.

"to many more yeah?"

A/N: this may have been a little rushed but only because my ideas and endings kept leaving my brain and I kept coming up with new ones omg I can't I love yall requesting Charlie, the ideas are endless with him cuz he's basically living a double life

#ahs #fanfic #spotify #ahsfx #ahs fanfiction #clyde electrick children #jimmy darling #me when rory #rory culkin #rory culkin characters #rory x reader #rory culkin fanfic #charlie walker #charlie walker smut #scream 4 #scream #scream movie #scream franchise #scream smut #ghostface smut #charlie walker scream4 #charlie walker x reader #charlie walker x reader smut #sub!charlie walker

[cinnaamela]

hi kyle it's moss, they are here with an ada wong request, but don't feel pressured writing it if it's not for your taste (or you can change ada for whoever you want, it's kinda free form)💕

— (this is some kind of au but what kind, nobody knows) it's friday night, movie night where chris, claire, leon, luis, ada, and you get together at one of your guys' place with snacks, drinks, everything that is needed to have fun. as always, ada and you take the couch to yourselves with a giant blanket, you sitting between her legs with your back pressed against hers. oh how she can't help herself and how she is so grateful everyone is focusing on the loud movie that is playing, she has plenty of space and opportunity to let her hands wander around your body and more...

hope you have fun with this mess 🤭 again, do not feel pressured to write it, only if you'd like

This request was really good anyways I just love ada wong bc she is the best girl besides Jill.

Have fun with your requested fic Moss and this took me a while to write although it was not hard work for me!! <3

— Thats it baby, Focus on me.

Pairings: Ada wong x Fem! Reader

Summary: What the request said bc I can’t say anymore things 😭

Cw. Secret relationship w ada wong, slight mommy kink, fingering, cunnilingus, getting heard/caught by Claire, body worship, praise, wlw, kissing session + marks being left, and fluff at the end. NOT PROOF READ AND PLS LMK IF I MISSED ANYTHING!

Character Count: 13.1k

It was a friday night, which meant a movie night with the group (chris, claire, leon, luis, ada, and you) getting together at your place to watch a couple of crappy horror movies in a circle on the floor of your living room while the rest of your friends go about their own business. you've already made popcorn and have a bunch of beer in front of you, as well as soda and milk for all of them. leon is sitting next to you, his arm slung around the back of your couch while the other hand rests on your shoulder.

when he sees a movement out of the corner of his eye he reaches up and turns off the TV, just because he doesn't want people to startle at the sound of the tv being turned on, then turns to face you. he's got that dopey grin on his face and you can feel yourself turning red. you know that you like it when he looks at you, but you also know that it might be too much.

So instead you try to avoid another deep conversation, turning the TV back on putting on a three hour long movie, and bringing out this gigantic blanket throwing it over everyone except ada because she happened to have brought one from your bedroom. Although, before she had went to grab it you told her that it was fine with you.

Ada has been acting weird ever since you and Leon had been becoming close friends, though not in an awkward way. she'd always been pretty easy going, which was how you knew that you were totally into her even if she didn't seem to notice it.

What had made it harder for you was that there wasn't really anything else to talk about when you were hanging out with ada. About the time the movie will start, you try to get comfortable on the floor, as you are sitting between her legs with your back pressed against hers.

It was a little uncomfortable, so you try to move back, but she moves forward pushing herself closer until your thighs touch, then sliding your arms around your waist pressing her hands behind your back. she starts playing with the hem of your shirt. her lips brush your ear and you shiver.

"You don't wanna do that," you murmur quietly so that no one else can hear the two of you, but the movie is loud they are probably not going to. she pulls away. "it wouldn't be right." you whisper still trying to move back without making a big deal out of it. you're embarrassed about the whole thing but even more to be caught by the others with ada.

"Maybe we can go to your room." she whispers to you making your cheeks flushed red.

You are sitting between her legs with your back pressed against hers. you're sure it'll be ok. if anyone would notice it, it's ada. and she hasn't mentioned it once. but that just means that she's thinking about it, so maybe the whole thing isn't such a bad idea. She pulls back. "I guess," you murmur. she gets up slowly and takes your hand as you get up and follow her upstairs, stopping outside of your door. she leans down giving you a peck. then pulls away again looking shyly at your feet.

you smile at her softly then open your door and step inside closing it behind you. ada follows in and you walk over to your bed, she sits down. you sit next to her and give her a kiss. it feels different than your first one, or the ones that came after it. there's something more to that feeling.

you pull apart a second later. "We should probably lock the door..” she mumbles looking embarrassed as she pulls the door shut. “you know.. for safety reasons.” you nod, “yeah, good idea…” you murmur blushing hard. she kisses you again and you both end up crawling onto your bed. she straddles your lap.

you take a deep breath, you know exactly where this is going.

"i think we should.." you pause biting your lip and leaning forward so that your noses touch. "should uh…" you start kissing her neck trailing soft kisses down to her collarbone and back up again. This goes on for a couple of minutes until the two of you stop. "are you.. ready?" she asks quietly hoping that the answer won't be yes. ada nods slightly, smiling a bit. you lean up and kiss her deeply for several seconds.

she tastes so sweet just like candy.

she lays you down and begin kissing every inch of your skin that you have exposed . ada runs her hands through your hair and you hold onto her tightly. you feel ada's tongue trace patterns on your stomach and her mouth makes its way to your breasts. you moan. "oh god..." she murmurs pulling your top off and taking it over her head. you reach up running your fingers through her hair and gently tugging. ada giggles. she kisses and nibbles down your body until you are completely naked under her hands, then you pull back. "are you ready for me now?" she murmurs moving closer to kiss your neck again.

Humming in response, just knowing ada loves to be rough but knows when you aren't ready to go all the way. "alright baby... i'm gonna show you how much I love you..." you feel ada's teeth bite lightly into your neck, leaving an impression that she likes it but she also knows that your limits.

"Good girl... now let me mark you~" your eyes drift closed at those words, while you let her. she traces her tongue across the top of your left breast and then traces it down towards your belly button. she trails light touches along your abdomen and back up until she finally reaches your pubic bone. you squirm. "oh baby..." you whine. ada smiles at you. "you're ready." you nod.

"let's do it.." you say in a husky voice. ada looks up at you for a second then starts to work on getting rid of your pants and underwear until you're both lying naked on your bed together. you look at each other in awe. ada smiles. "let's make it quick okay.." she says kissing you again. your mind races with thoughts of all the things you wanted to do with ada. she begins moving her hips up and down gently rubbing circles around your clitoris causing a sharp gasp to escape your lips.

"fuck.." you moan. ada continues to grind into your body at a steady pace. you run a hand through her hair as she rocks into you. "oh god.." you moan again. ada stops moving suddenly, "don't come yet okay.. i can tell you're almost there.." she says kissing your cheek. you close your eyes, "come on.. please.." you whimper desperately. you want her so badly but you also want everything to slow down so that it feels like you're coming alive.

ada gives you a last long kiss. "give me a moment," she murmurs getting up off of you to take her own panties off. "hold on my baby.." she whispers in your ear. "just give me a minute.” you're not sure why she says it so softly, she always calls you baby in public but when you have sex with her it doesn't feel intimate at all, just comforting. she crawls back on top of you, then presses her lips against yours and she slips a finger inside of you.

you moan, "ah.." she moves the digit inside faster. "that's it.. that's the spot...” you moan. she rubs her finger against you, making you moan louder. "so tight.." she murmurs nuzzling your neck, "just let go baby, let go.." you feel her hand slip inside you and slide all the way to your clit and rubbing vigorously. you groan softly "oh yeah..” she continues to press her lips against yours. "oh fuck.." you moan and close your eyes, feeling waves of pleasure hitting your core. your legs wrap round ada's waist.

She starts to move her fingers a faster and you can already feel your body tensing up. you moan again, your hands squeezing onto her sides as another wave of pleasure hits you. "shhh, baby..” she hushes holding your hips firmly, keeping the pace steady and fast.

"it's alright..” you moan and your grip on her tightens. "it's okay baby....” her voice is filled with excitement. "faster.." you beg her. you can't stand it anymore your hips bucking upwards. you feel ada pull out and grab a pillow from the bed and place it under your back and she starts thrusting. "ah shit...” you groan, grabbing the pillow tighter. "you're so beautiful.. such a nice body.." she murmurs against your neck.

Throwing your head back, in closure to climaxing, as her words of praise are sending you to cloud 9 while her fingers work you like magic. "hnnn!" you cry out . "almost there...hold out a bit longer...just focus on me.” she whispers whipping away the tears from your face with her other hand.

The state you were in made ada capture this moment as if it was a vivid dream, you trembling underneath her not being able to hold out any longer while you were crying and gasping for air, your body tensed up and shaking, your arms wrapped around her torso in ectascy.

You had never felt anything like this before. you didn't expect the intensity that came with it, you thought it'd be a little less intense, but it was even better. you could taste yourself on her lips and she kissed you softly. "your mine..” she whispers and places a gentle kiss on your shoulder, you shudder as she continues pumping her fingers into you. "God— Ada!” you moaned her name as you put your head into her chest trying to muffle all the sounds that came from you besides the sqeltching wetness of your pussy being pounded by her fingers.

"m` close....” you groan feeling as though you might faint from orgasm. you can feel sticky liquid trickling down your plush thighs as her fingers continue pounding into you. "yes-- gonna cum.." you blurt out following a pornographic moan gripping onto the sheets beneath you. "I've gotcha baby, keep making those sweet sounds for me..” you feel your whole body tightening in response to her pleasurable tone and you feel the tension leave your body. "ahhh..” you let out a soft moan releasing on her fingers and the grey sheets beneath you.

Ada lowered herself down and began lapping the juices running from your cunt as she praises you with such words as: "you did so well..” and "you taste so fucking amazing just like how I imagined.."

Ada says smirkingly at you before pressing a lingering kiss on your cunt, then the two of you heard loud footsteps coming towards the locked door. "fuck!!” you shriek covering your crotch with one hand. "shit shit shit shit shit..." ada said scrambling for your clothes as you scrambled around for yours which you were still wearing.

You both pulled your pants on quickly as the footsteps came closer to the door. Telling ada to hide somewhere because they can’t know that you two are secre together. Walking towards the door and unlocking it, cracking it slight, you said “Yes?” and it was Leon outside the door telling you that the others are heading out, but that Claire wanted to talk to you.

He calls Claire and leaves the both of you alone to talk. “Listen…I don’t want to be that type of person to say this, but I heard everything.” The silence became loud as you stared at her with a blank ass stare , unable to believe what she had just told you. "what do you mean?” you ask.

"I overheard the whole thing, you and ada in your room, And we were sitting downstairs just chatting about the movie, but I was trying to keep quiet about your business.” She pauses waiting for you to reply. you sigh heavily. "we should probably stop this conversation here because I’ve got to meet with sherry right now...” she nods. “I see..could you keep this between you and me?”

“yeah..yeah no problem.”

“i'll get going now.." Claire says walking away and back downstairs leaving.

"Alright..talk later." You nod, closing the door behind you slowly and looking concerned , you turn around only to find ada standing by the door watching you. "hey babe..what did she say to you?" She asks.

"she knew."

“What?!”

"She knows we're seeing each other, but she said she would keep quiet about this and not tell the others.” You say, looking down, not wanting to look her in the eye.

"wow.." she takes a deep breath and wraps her arm around your shoulders, pulling you into her. "she's a good listener... but she cares about us. I don't wanna be exposed to the others and she knows how I feel.” You sigh, "yeah she does.” ada mumbled. "look at me." she pulls your chin up to look at her face. "no matter what happens, if they find out about our relationship let them..”

"Let them think what they wanna,” you shake your head slightly, "they can't make us break up because of some stupid rumors they hear, and I'm not breaking up with you over something like this." She kisses you gently, "I love you..”.

“I love you too.” You smile lightly holding her hand in yours and caressing it softly. "however,” she began to speak, "I still think we should tell them tonight, so they can stop pestering us..”

"And you think this will help us?” you said puzzled

.

"well you haven't mentioned our relationship yet to them, so maybe i’ll send a message to the groupchat and finally leave us be.” You said grabbing your phone off the nightstand texting the groupchat about your relationship with ada and that you’ve been keeping it a secret from everyone, and to keep their noses out of your affairs.

After a couple hours later, you went to sleep in ada's arms after dinner and bath. you woke up in a tangle of limbs. ‘i hope she’s okay sleeping next to me..’ you think snuggling into ada more, enjoying her warmth, she stirs in her sleep and moves towards you wrapping her arms tightly around you in a hug. you smile softly and drift off to sleep again.

#resident evil #ada wong x reader #ada wong x fem reader #ada wong #re4 ada wong #requests to bl1ss #bl1ss posts #resident evil 🚔 #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #resident evil fluff #lesbian

[msookyspooky]

Fours a Franchise

Part 13

wordcount:9k

[I have been combing over this sm bc like...Yeah. There's no coming back from this one PLUS matching it with the next chapter that I already have done just doing the same to it. Sorry for the wait and emotional damage! 😁🖤 Just making sure it all lines up with the plot. Thank you!! 🖤🖤🖤 BTW this starts with Jill's POV, Dewey, Jill, Gale, YN, then Dewey, then YN again in case it's confusing since it's in second person still.]

Jill got off the table stumbling while trying to catch herself. She had to get this just right.

Shards of glass littered on her before she staggering in her high heeled boots over to where your body lay. Silence other than her heels scuffling over the tile as she stepped over Trevor's body to get to you. Not caring about the boy that supposedly 'loved' her. Hell, she sicked Charlie on that bottle blonde whore Trevor was cheating on her with and her friend too. Made it look like Steven Oarth and Casey Becker from 96. And Jill laughed her ass off too when she saw the video Charlie shot of Jenny gutted. Some people get revenge for cheating by keying a car and ripping seats...Jill got it by killing the other girl, her collateral friend and ripping Trevor's face off. Well making her pawn Charlie do it, to be precise.

Blood dripped down her face with her breathing labored as she stepped over Trevor's mangled upper body; Eager to get to you. Had to make it look good.

...As soon as she saw Billy and you too close; She kicked him as hard as she could, the best she could, out of the way. Couldn't have him looking too nice to us. Not yet.

He released a pained groan; Half conscious as he rolled over. Coughing and falling limp again a foot away all before Jill collapsed where he was with your unmoving form. She stared at you on the ground nose to nose just inches away. Studying you up close like she had in pictures so many times. Almost holding your hand as sirens sounded down the street. Closing her eyes and letting being sliced, stabbed and hurled into objects by her own doing finally take her.

-----------

Dewey all but slammed on his breaks in the yard and rushed to the scene. Gun drawn frantically yelling out orders, "Come on! Move it!"

A neighbor had finally called hearing the commotion. Dewey made a u-turn on the highway and got here as soon as he could.

He unknowingly rushed to the scene, heart pounding after everything tonight. His wife almost getting killed, Randy dying so cruelly and the call with you trying to leave town.

But as soon as he entered ...His heart sank at the scene of the crime.

He should've known. Knew you would try and do this yourself. Why did you always do this? Why did you always act alone? Why did you either run away or run towards the danger?

Seeing you face down on the floor in a pool of blood made his heart plummet.

"Oh God no..." Dewey mumbled getting closer.

In his eyes, Jill's hand was on yours for comfort. Both of you tried to protect each other till the very end as far as he could see.

Judy gave orders to the other officers as second in command while Dewey got closer to you.

He didn't even see you breathing from here. He took in the sight...A boy with his face peeled off bound on the floor. A body sizzling in a leaf pile outside. Two men he didn't recognize bleeding everywhere. The whole house is a wreck...And you and Jill in pools of blood close to each other.

"Dear God..." It was 1996 all over again. This felt more brutal than the last two times. Whoever did this was sick. Absolutely as demented as Billy and Stu to do the things they've done here tonight.

And to you...You and Randy tonight...

It was almost as bad as finding Tatum so long ago. The party at the Macher house in general. And even then, this felt like a never ending nightmare tonight. Non-stop horror that got worse every hour.

He failed. Two deputies under his command are dead. Randy and you died tonight under his watch. His wife he should've protected was in surgery. He failed all of you...He failed Tatum, Sidney, Randy, Gale and now you...

Dewey felt tears trying to burn his brown eyes as his guts twisted into guilt ridden knots. His face red from the strain of trying to keep it together as Judy looked shocked at the crime scene. Peeking over his shoulder but covered it with a pokerface to keep doing her job.

He motioned for EMT'S to come in as some officers helped cheek bodies or load people up. Jill was the first to 'wake up'. Asking in an innocent voice like any scared teen girl in this situation. "W-What happened? Are they dead? D-Don't let them hurt me or YN-" She weakly gave as EMT's checked over her, getting her on a stretcher. That just broke Dewey's heart.

He took off his hat out of respect for you and hung his head. Releasing a shaky sigh before leaving the house. He had to. He subtly went out the broken backdoor as tears threatened to spill. Biting his lip and running a hand over his hair.

Jill was already knocked out again and wheeled into an ambulance out the front door.

He failed. He felt like he failed everyone. He became a cop again to help, became Sheriff to make sure this never happened in this town again...And because of following the law and forgetting who he was as a man; Putting that badge before his own common sense... He failed. Randy and you were dead. Two kids he swore to protect like he couldn't his little sister. All grown up and yet still so young. You and Randy just entered your 30's and now you were gone right when your lives were truly starting after so much trauma.

"Sir?" Judy stepped outside asking him softly as he sniffed and waved her off.

"I'm fine, Deputy. Just give me a minute."

Suddenly, they all turned to hear an EMT yell out from the kitchen. Right after Jill went out on a stretcher so it only meant one thing. "We have a survivor! Female!"

And a small twinge of hope that soared like a rocket ran through him...You were alive!

-----------

Jill woke up to blinding lights and so many microphones and questions and people calling her name as she was wheeled into the hospital. An awestruck relieved smile painted her bloody lips as she blurrily looked around. It's what she always wanted. Everything worked out. She was famous. She was a star. She was the final girl.

She wanted to laugh and hollar and cheer that her name would be talked about for decades. No ordinary life or anything like that. She could live like a celebrity while being America's Sweet Little Cherry Pie in the media's eyes. She was golden now.

She got worked on and patched up but pretended she was so shaken. Fake tears that didn't even spill as she whimpered and both nurses and Doctors comforted her. One nurse said, "That poor thing. She's so brave. She's an Angel."

Jill wore a sly smirk the second that nurse left; no cameras in the hospital rooms. She released a sharp laugh she quickly covered. Shielding her mouth and acting like it was a sob when a nurse went by to check her vitals.

Yeah, her eye was hurting badly. She broke blood vessels in it. Bruised up. Just got her shoulder stab wound sewn up. On pain relievers. Everyone felt bad for her. Everyone was a bunch of fucking idiots that bought it.

She got closer than any other Ghostface. Billy and Stu could never! And soon they'd be recognized and going to prison, if they lived, and NO ONE would believe they weren't involved!

But Jill wasn't stupid. She had to play dumb. Blame Charlie for now and those 'bad men' that she didn't know till the authorities figured it out. Couldn't say a lot as the new victim and ruin it all that she knew too much...Damn! This was gonna be a great twist for a book all about her. Your 'Out of Darkness' hack job novel could be used for laughs or kindling now.

Jill could practically laugh and squeal with glee if it wasn't for her faking it.

Most of all. You were DEAD! She stabbed you so many times and you were fucking dead.

Dewey came in and Jill quickly acted subdued and tired when really she felt high on meds and life right about now. She gave a fake sniffle, voice heavy with false tears as Dewey was at her bedside.

"How are you doing?" He softly asked.

She shook her head, sighing heavily. "Feeling...Guilty. I mean...My friends. It should've been-" She choked on a fake cry.

"Shh...You made it, Jill. That's all that matters." He softly told her with a sad frown as he sat beside her bed.

Jill sniffed and gave in a shaky voice, "Charlie tried to kill me. And those men came in talking about things with him...And I...I heard they killed my mother-" She clutched her mouth to prevent a 'sob' and Dewey had tears of sympathy in his eyes.

Jill got so lucky getting an idiot like Dewey. A bleeding heart moron that lost two people he was close to tonight and almost his bitch ass wife Gale. That's all Jill could think of. She had to cover her mouth to hide the smile at Dewey crying...She had this in the bag.

"And Robbie and Kirby too. And Trevor-"

"Shhh." Dewey soothingly gave. "Just lay back. Try to rest."

"I-Is your wife?" Jill asked as she took a deep breath.

Dewey smiled, "She'll be fine. She's recovering."

Jill smiled back because at least the journalist that could gain her notoriety was alive to report this. A cheap shoulder wound was on purpose. She ordered Charlie to make it look worse than it was so they could use Gale in the future; not caring if he killed Randy or not. That was his own personal vendetta. Some geek jealous of a slightly older, cooler geek. Getting Charlie to think she loved him...Her?! Jill Roberts, a girl way out of his league?...It was just too easy. Dewey was just as stupid buying her pity party and as soon as Gale saw those dollar signs; she'd be easy too.

"If I ever write a book one day; I want her to write it with me." She smiled looking at her shoulder. "Be a good team with our matching wounds." She had to sell it. Looking down all contemplative. "We're survivors now...I just wish YN was too." She gave a 'sad' smile. Playing like America's sweetheart by having sympathy for the one that didn't make it.

Dewey looked serious. "Jill...They're not sure yet. It's still touch and go...But she's in ICU along with those two other men that are being monitored." He smiled. "If you think they were involved then we'll look into it and make sure when they wake up they're safe from hurting anyone ever again if they did...But YN? She might make it."

Jill felt a cord snap in her brain as she forced a smile that didn't match her eyes.

"....What?" She swallowed. "I-I-I but I saw...Charlie kill her?" She quickly thought up.

"Look." Dewey sighed. "We don't know yet but she's hanging on."

Jill swallowed. Cursing every word in her head. Screaming internally as her stomach twisted.

"I...I want to see her." She gave with urgency to her whisper.

"She's not awake yet. She was lacking oxygen for a bit. She might not remember everything and we'll have to help her with that...In time. Just get some rest, okay?"

Jill forced a tight lip smile that probably anyone with brains could see wasn't a pleased one as Dewey left her dim room with only the beeping monitors as a sound.

Jill nestled in the pillow acting like she was trying to doze off...The second she heard the door click shut; Those dark eyes snapped open with a deadly glare.

She wasted no time taking off her wires and heart monitor. Unplugging the cord before its beeping alerted nurses and made her way out the door of the isolated community hospital to ICU. No visitors were allowed with it being so late. Most nurses and staff switch shifts. Perfect.

She slunk in the shadows of the hall when a nurse on night shift went by before making her way to you...You would tell them everything. You would ruin EVERYTHING. You had to go.

-----------

Gale laid there on meds from her minor surgery hours ago. Pretty awake now just foggy headed. It cut a few tendons but she was lucky. She'd be fine with some rest.

Her mind was a million miles away though when she heard the news about Randy and you upon waking up.

"Damn..." She mumbled under her breath rubbing her face tiredly with her good arm the more she thought about it.

Hoss and Perkins Dead. She knew that would weigh heavily on her husband's mind.

Randy having an arrow through his shoulder- neck area and hung from the barn by a rope, guts all strung out like...Like Himbrey in 96.

Gale scoffed to herself. She felt like she should've known. She was the target and Randy was the distraction. Whoever did this studied those murders like the back of their hand; like they were there. Probably obsessed with horror movies like those freaks Billy and Stu too.

She sighed heavily...Now, you were in critical care and had no idea if you'd have amnesia or disabled or if you'd even live. Doctor's just said you were sewn up in your stomach area.

She wasn't one for sappy stuff. Wasn't one for friends. But...Well, she spent a better part of a decade or more talking to you and Randy. Plenty of dinners and talks.

She sighed remembering her last conversation was you and Randy thinking she was a liar making false promises. Of putting her career before people. How did she go from waking you both up yesterday morning at Randy's house to in a little over 24 hours? 20 hours to be precise. Randy was dead and you were in critical care.

Gale felt sad, yeah sure, but it was such a strange emotion really. At least for her.

...Maybe she did actually not care as much as she acted? Maybe...Maybe she was deluding herself with all this. Gale felt bitter seeing you have the spotlight while no one hardly knew her and her 'tarnished brand' anymore.

She loved Dewey but domestic life in Woodsboro wasn't cutting it. It didn't cut it a decade ago before her separation with Dewey and it wasn't working now despite trying the last decade to make it work. She was 47 years old now. She wasn't getting any younger.

But it confused her more that on one hand the thrill of getting the story was all she knew and she finally felt like Gale Weather's again instead of just Mrs. Riley...But at what cost? She got stabbed, Randy was dead and you were in ICU. And yet it was her life.

She shook her head to herself.

What was she saying? Of course she cared a little. You and her may be frenemies at times but you still were her maid of honor at her wedding. You still called her. You both were linked to these murders for life. And you were her husband's practical surrogate sister as he annoyingly called it.

She lightly rolled her eyes but frowned at everything.

So...Charlie and Robbie? Charlie and Trevor? Then who were those two men Dewey mentioned?

Her dark hair was matted from tonight as she laid her head back on her hospital bed. "...Why? Why did you do that?" She asked herself aloud in the empty room as if Ghostface was there.

It didn't make sense...Maybe her brain wasn't working properly with hospital grade drugs still in her system but why? Why were you at that house? Why were you and Randy not together when he was killed? Why was she only stabbed in the shoulder? That Ghostface had a clear shot of her chest or throat or even her head like Dewey said Perkins got so why a shoulder? Why some superficial wound she'd most likely live from?

Dewey popped in smiling lovingly at her. She smiled back...Sometimes he was the only thing grounding her.

"How do you feel?" Dewey asked his wife.

Gale shrugged lightly, eyes droopy and tired. About to force herself to shut off her brain and sleep after the night they had. "Same as earlier...How is she doing? Alright?"

Dewey sighed but nodded, coming closer to his wife's bed, "Yeah she's a strong kid."

"She's gonna have to be." Gale mused. "What about those two mystery men? Any ID?"

Dewey mumbled, "Yeah those guys are a mystery alright. But no, no ID on them. I haven't seen them myself but they're for sure suspects. In fact, I think I'm going to pay each a visit and see what I can figure out. One is in a different part of ICU than YN and the other is upstairs...Jill seems scared of them...Poor kid." He frowned.

Gale nodded, "Yeah, mystery contenders. She's a strong kid to fight off Charlie and possibly those two if they are involved. I'm sure YN helped her a lot...."

"That's YN. A fighter. Jill is too." Dewey smirked, "She asked if you were okay. Says you should write a book together." He smiled more, chuckling at the coincidence. "With your matching wounds."

"Why? She was stabbed in the shoulder too?" Gale kept smiling while laying back.

Dewey nodded...And yet looked away thinking to himself. Gale did too...

Now, Gale's brain may be a bit foggy but...Something wasn't adding up...She went straight to the hospital from the barn. She never...She never saw Jill? And Dewey didn't talk to her till just now...

"How did Jill know I was stabbed in the shoulder? Did you tell her?"

Dewey scrunched his face in thought. "Well...No, I-"

Gale opened her mouth to say something wasn't right when Dewey's radio sounded loudly on his shoulder.

Dewey answered just to hear Judy frantically tell him. "Sheriff, the two male suspects are gone! The one in the ICU was reported missing first. Me and another officer just checked upstairs and the other male suspect is gone too."

"What??" Dewey's face scrunched as he stood up straighter.

"We don't know how they slipped out or how long. Searching all floors, Sir. I'm on my way to check Jill Robert's room now. "

Dewey gave the affirmative and clicked off.

Dewey quickly got his gun and with wide eyes exclaimed as it dawned on him where Ghostface would go. "Shit...YN!" Before bolting out the door heading to ICU. "Stay here!" Dewey ordered.

Gale grumbled to herself. All before smacking her bed. "Oh fuck." She sneered out before jerking herself tiredly off her bed to get dressed quickly. "Married over a decade and he thinks orders work on me-"

Yeah, those men were definitely suspects but something wasn't right...How did Jill know Gale had her shoulder stabbed?

-----------

Jill rounded the corner and right when she got near your room a hand grabbed her by the mouth and dragged her into the shadows. "You're not nearly as smart as you think you are." Billy hissed in her ear. Medical gown on with pants underneath. "That knife didn't even penetrate an organ. If you're gonna gut someone? Do it groin to sternum-" He shoved her against the wall hard. Pissed off, injured, but still a grown man's strength as she grunted in pain from the impact. Billy positioned his one hand on her jaw the other on her throat. Ready to snap her neck or crush her windpipe. Whatever was quickest.

All before she bit his finger as hard as she could as it got near her mouth. He hissed in pain before releasing a harsh groan as she elbowed him in his stitches then turned around and kicked him in the groin as hard as she could as his knees buckled.

"Stay out of my way, fucking has-been." She warned as he was on his knees trying and failing to get up from how vicious she was with her hits. She rushed to your room; too zoned in on ending you.

Billy clenched his teeth and sucked air through them "I swear to God, I'm not resting till I kill everyone in this bitches family! Goddamn twat-" He growled out under his breath as he tried to brace himself against the wall. Still a bit high himself from anesthesia as he fell back against the wall again.

Jill entered your room. You were slightly awake, probably a nurse waking you. The teen girl wryly smirked at the luck she had of you barely hanging on. All alone.

"You just won't die." Jill mused with an exasperated arm motion as she came into the room.

You blurrily saw her form. Trying to fully wake yourself up to sit up as Jill stalked towards you with a glare. "What are you? Michael Fucking Myers?"

You quickly tried to grab the button for help. Still half out of it but Jill got it sooner. Yanking it away with a deadly smirk on her face. "Yeah, I don't think so."

You went to make a noise and soon nimble fingers clamped down on your throat as hard as they could as she straddled you on the bed. It hurt. Everything hurt like hell as she tried to choke you as hard as she could; her weight pressed on your stitches.

"Fucking die already!!-" She grunted out putting force into her hands to crush your airway.

You looked up seeing the rage filled evil look in her eyes. Her dark eyes even darker as pupils dilated to saucer plates in full kill mode with one eye red and blood vessels popped. She wanted you dead and would stop at nothing to get it. You smacked on her cut up forehead, pressed on her eye with your thumb before grabbing her by the hair to slam her hand into the metal railing beside you.

You practically tumbled out of bed to try and get away from her before releasing a strangled cry of pain as she jumped down and almost shoved her knee hard into your stitched up organs and abdomen. It hurt the flesh beside it but that still felt like anguish.

...All before she cried out when a fist slammed HARD into her temple. Toppling her over.

You gasped for air seeing Stu wobbling on his feet having hid in the bathroom. Heavily stitched up and medicated.

Jill released an enraged groan through her teeth clutching her face over her red eye. "I'm just a teen girl, you prick!"

"Do I look like I give a shit?" He retorted. He didn't waste time lunging at her the best he could, his adrenaline pumping as she rolled out of the way.

You quickly forced yourself off the floor with pained hitches in your breath.

Stu huffed and grabbed Jill by her body throwing her into the medicine cabinet where shards of glass broke. She cried out landing with a thud. Stu picked up a shard to kill her as he dropped to his knees to corner her.

"...Man, ya know. You're not bad for a chick. But you made a big fucking mistake the second you put on that mask." He warned. Raising the glass overhead with both hands. Ready to plunge it into her and end her life. A smirk playing at his lips ready to do what he does best. "Even bigger one going after my girl."

He yelped out as something sharp stabbed through his neck...A brand new empty needle that went deep in the side of his neck. Jill grabbed it when it fell from the broken medical cabinet. He blindly tried to get it out.

Jill stood up and you used your IV cord holding it in both hands to jerk her back to try and stop her before a strangled yell escaped you as she elbowed you in your stomach. Turning around to force you to the wall and her fist hitting you hard as you yelled. Blood seeping through your bandages and gown.

"How are those stitches?!" She exclaimed with a grin. It's as if being thrown into a medical cabinet like that didn't phase her. She was clearly on a mission that only death would stop her. It didn't help that she was just on some good pain relievers while you and Stu still had anesthesia in your lungs.

You screamed in agony as she punched you so hard in your stitches, your knees gave out on you.

Stu glared at her, rushing to her as she let you go and dodged him, slinking into a small corner near the shadows of the room. By far the less injured one in this room as she went to run into the closet.

"Hiding already?!" Stu demanded snarling at her. He was ready to beat the living shit out of her as he tried to jam that door open.

Using all his strength he jerked it open, locked or not, "It's over, you-"

A huge hollow bang sounded. A heavy metal bedpan hit him square upside the jaw as he stumbled back. Stu looked almost cross eyed, jarred and trying to get his footing before she slammed it upside his head a second time and he went down. She hit him so many times you were scared she was gonna kill him right then and there!

You tried to get up and keeled over. Mouth hanging open in a silent scream as blood stained your hospital gown. Your stitches are opening again and you were so fucked up right now.

Jill heard you make a noise and stopped beating Stu, walking towards you. She went to swing the pot over her head to do the same to you...Maybe worse. "Is this how it's gonna be, YN? The ending of the movie was supposed to be at the house...I mean, this is just... Silly!" She wryly chuckled

You weakly stared up at her seeing Stu knocked out cold. You noticed someone else but kept your eyes on her.

"You'll never get away with this."

"Of course I will!" She grinned even if her eyes looked manic. "Who is going to believe Billy and Stu didn't kill you?"

Before she could swing on you, she released a scream as something sharp stabbed her from behind. Looking down at her abdomen at a shard of glass sticking out all before it was painfully yanked out. She yelled again looking down in shock.

You looked up to see Billy glaring behind her. A bloody glass shard in hand before he leveled it at her throat. "I've had enough of this shit!" He made the first cut on her throat ready to yank it. "You want to be famous? You got it."

Jill went to fight, eyes wide in actual fear that she was seconds away from being cut.

"DROP IT!" Someone barreled into the room, keys and other metals clanking on his belt...Police boots thudding into the room.

Your breath caught as you heard that familiar male voice...

No...No, no, no.

You looked to see Dewey with his gun drawn. Aimed at Billy.

-----------

Dewey looked on in shock at the scene before his cop instincts kicked in. You stayed there frozen and so did the man holding Jill hostage. He kept a firm grip on Jill using her as a human shield with that bloody shard of glass in hand.

What the hell was going on here?...

"Let her go!" He ordered the man but he stayed hidden behind Jill. Side stepping with her close to his chest so the Sheriff couldn't get an accurate shot without hurting her. The bastard.

Dewey watched how you looked like a fish out of water with your mouth and eyes wide open. Blood seeping through your hospital gown onto your fingers as you held your bandages.

Jill had been stabbed, blood seeping from her gown as well as tears of pain in her eyes. A man laid knocked out on the floor while the other held her hostage.

Dewey steadied his aim, nervously running his bottom lip over his top teeth a moment at how hairy this situation was. He didn't know who these men were but they were clearly the killers. They hurt you and hurt Jill too. Trying to finish the job.

Then Jill opened her mouth, "Dewey help! I came here to see YN and these guys she invited to the house were here! They're the killers, Dewey! Please!"

He glanced over seeing your expression twist into what he thought was in shock for poor Jill...But...You invited them?

He saw your breathing stop seeing what Jill was saying and your jaw clenched.

"Wha-" Dewey didn't think he heard her right. But then his stomach sank as the stabbed teen continued.

"She called them at Kirby's house telling them to get there and take care of things. I thought they were there to help but YN and them..." She trailed off in tears as the dark haired man holding the shard of glass to her neck sneered at her.

Dewey's eyes widened as he kept his gun aimed. "Let her go! Let her go right now, damn it!"

You finally stammered out from your spot in the room, "No Dewey... S-She's lying! Her and Charlie-"

Jill shook her head with tears as she looked at you, "I trusted you, YN. I thought you were there to save us! You and these guys helped Charlie!"

Your jaw went slack as Dewey saw your face contort in outrage. "Dewey she's lying! God damn it, she's fucking lying!" You yelled over her with a strained voice.

He felt his heart hammering and mind buzzing...No. There was no way! There was no way you were in on it. No way you were helping these killers...But why was Jill saying this?

Dewey looked positively confused and frantic. "Damn it, I said let her go!"

You sat up, pain or not. Groaning in anguish that seemed to fuel your anger. You were angry and bleeding, Jill was bleeding and scared, these men were holding Jill hostage and Dewey felt yanked back and forth.

"No! Don't you dare let her go!" You yelled at the man and then glared with pure desperation in your gaze at Dewey. "Dewey, fucking listen to me-" You growled out through your teeth in frustration.

"YN?" Dewey asked apprehensively with the gun still aimed. "Why is Jill saying you're involved?! Why don't you want her to be away from that man!?"

"Because she's the killer!!" You almost screamed in desperation as Jill almost got out of Billy's grasp and to Dewey's surprise, you gasped. As if Jill getting away from the man was a bad thing? Was Jill actually the killer? Then who were these guys? Dewey felt as panicky as the room was right now.

He almost envied the guy knocked out by a bedpan on the floor and wished he could be there too!

Finally, the man spoke up. Getting tense himself with a fighting hostage and gun pointed at him. "I'm saving YN, you idiot! This girl is the killer! She hurt YN, not me!"

....

The whole room grew silent.

He...Knew that voice.

Dewey felt his brows scrunching and his body tingling. A chill down his spine because...No...No, it couldn't be. But as soon as he spoke and as soon as Dewey saw those eyes...He just knew. A deep instinct. Then looking at the form of the laid out man on the ground...He recognized him by what side of his face he could see.

Gale was right. All these years Gale was right...Gale was right.

The picture from a decade ago and that feeling he got was full force now.

...He recognized that voice...Things were clicking as he looked into the man's dark gaze. Eyes wide with fury and shock, jaw clenched...As he stared down the man that played dead all these years... He was looking at his sister's killer for the first time in years...And Jill claimed you were involved?...

-----------

You stared enraged and frantic and pained and plain out scared. She couldn't do this! She couldn't get away with this! If she couldn't kill you then she was going to lock you away as long as she stayed the famous innocent victim.

You wanted to grab Dewey's gun and just let Billy hack away. She was making you feel like a cornered animal at the lies she was spewing that you were fearing Dewey was eating up.

But all those thoughts halted as Dewey uttered a word. "...B-Billy?...No...No way it can't be..." The middle aged Sheriff dragged out in a strained whisper. "...It is. It's you."

You felt pale. It was Randy in that barn earlier tonight all over again and with the risk involved; this was so much worse.

You went to speak but nothing came out. Your mouth was dry, head foggy, hands clammy, so in pain you might vomit, short of breath, throat tight...This was a nightmare.

Even Jill was silent as everyone saw Dewey's demeanor change...Silence in the room. Your breath quickened seeing the satisfaction in Jill's eyes as you realized she was winning. She wanted to play innocent while putting the blame on Billy and Stu...And if she couldn't kill you? Then you too.

"...YOU." He growled out. So uncharacteristic of gentle and polite Dewey.

"D-Dewey wait-" You forced out with a wince; getting closer.

"Stay back, YN! He's dangerous! It's...It's Billy Loomis. Gale was right. He's alive. He's the killer again!" Dewey was in fight or flight as he glared down Billy but even you could see the shock slowly bit by bit being replaced with rage.

You held your breath feeling cornered. What could you say?! What could you possibly say that wouldn't end in you being as guilty?

Billy mumbled, "I'm not, Billy...I-...Look. You're mistaken-"

Dewey snapped, "I'M NOT! I saw your picture a million times, I picked you kids up in my jeep, I was filing reports while hearing the old Chief of Police talk to you and your Dad...IT'S YOU. You lived..." Dewey sneered as angry tears pricked his eyes. "You killed my sister."

You felt your heart hammering away in your chest. Of course Jill manipulated. Crying fake tears, "Oh God, Dewey please help me!"

"Stop!...Please stop." You gingerly inched closer "Dewey, I know how this looks but Jill is the killer...Jill is not innocent, do you hear me!?" You urged in a harsh whisper.

Dewey looked bewildered and angry. Rage slowly taking over. Leveling the gun at Billy as Billy tried ducking behind a much shorter Jill which made his grip not as secure.

You kept trying to talk sense into him. "Dewey, think... Why would Jill even be here if she was innocent? Why would she need to see me this late at night in ICU?" You demanded holding your bleeding stomach.

"Why is Billy Loomis here!?" He countered.

You didn't know what to say without digging your own grave.

Jill shook her head, her voice a quiet pitiful tremble. "I was worried about you, YN. So I came to see you and these two were here and...You all were trying to escape and-"

Dewey glanced down eyes widening at Stu's passed out tall form on the floor then narrowing as Jill was painting a picture...It was just sealing the deal that Jill was truthful in his eyes.

"Shut the fuck up!" Billy snapped, not able to handle the lies from her as he jerked her in his arms. "You came here to finish the job with YN, we knew it, we beat you here to put you down-"

Dewey got closer with the gun. Eyes narrowed. "Not on my watch, Loomis. Put the glass down and let her go...Or else."

Billy didn't. However, he actually looked nervous for once behind that smoldering dark gaze. "...Why? So you can shoot me? Get revenge?"

"So, I'm right...You are Billy Loomis. 15 years later." Dewey mumbled with an edge to his voice all while Billy didn't say anything. "Turns out, evil doesn't win. Your time was bound to happen...What kind of sick man preys on innocent teenagers?! Even as a teen yourself, you were demented! I trusted you and your friend Stu to be near my baby sister and her best friend and look what happened!!" Dewey boomed with an emotional outburst as years of pent up anguish was coming out.

Jill shoved away and ran to Dewey. "Dewey, shoot him!" She rushed to hug Dewey's side, playing up the innocence as Dewey protectively put her behind himself.

Billy looked with wide fearful eyes. As much fear as you saw when you shot at him on stage all those years ago or when Neil nearly choked him to death in Hollywood.

And then...A strange sort of acceptance washed over him. Billy gave a frown but seemed to untense his shoulders and let the hand with the bloody shard of glass fall. It's like he was accepting his time was gonna come eventually. That his past from Woodsboro in 96 would bite him in the ass one day. That one day just surviving like a street rat criminal would get to him.

Dewey went to pull the trigger as Billy closed his eyes a moment. Dewey was so lawful you expected him to just handcuff Billy but the vengeful look in his eye and after tonight? You weren't so sure.

You may have let him shoot him had so much not happened but after they returned to save you twice tonight and after Jill tried to frame you too?...You knew what you had to do. If not for them then for your own selfishness to have extra hands to destroy Jill.

"DON'T!-"

You rushed as quickly as your body allowed.

....

Dewey gasped and jerked his gun away before he could pull the trigger as Billy opened his eyes again in shock...Seeing you standing in front of him in pain from rushing over but still trying to block Billy's body with your own.

You didn't know why. Didn't know what you were doing. Other than the Billy standing here was not the one you fought over a decade ago. He stood up for you to Randy tonight, he came here, he saved you twice tonight, and with Jill painting you as an accomplice? Your choice was to let him die and go to prison for something that Jill was framing you with too and everyone would trust her...Or try to reason with Dewey that Jill did this before a rash decision was made and suffer the choice afterwards. You probably still should just let Billy die yet with your world thinning and them actually helping you...

"YN? What are you doing?!" Dewey asked in a voice that was filled with betrayal. With hurt as his brows shot up and he shook his head in bewilderment.

Billy looked down at you in shock, his mouth parted and eyes wide.

You sucked in a shaky breath and looked straight at Dewey as you shielded Billy. Making a choice you can't come back from as you held your bloody stomach through your bandages.

"Don't do this. You follow the books, you follow the rules, you make things right the lawful way...Dewey, they deserve death or prison for everything they've done. They do..." You pointed an accusing finger at Jill. "But not until she gets it also! If she's handcuffed, then you can do what you want but not until then. She isn't a victim. She's the killer!" You glared at the teen playing innocent. "She killed her own mother tonight at her house after Perkins and Hoss were dead."

Jill furiously shook her head at Dewey but you saw the glare she gave you before he looked at her. She wanted you dead. So much she looked ready to forfeit and lunge at you; Dewey here or not. You wish she would.

"Her and Charlie planned all of this. She is the killer that recorded everything! Check her phone and you'll find deleted videos in the hard-drive!-"

"YOU MONSTER!!" Jill screamed. She never ever expected to be investigated, that much you could tell. Thought she would get away scott free and never be questioned or her phone searched.

"No, you are!" You jeered in disdain. "Charlie killed Randy and stabbed Gale upon your request! You killed the cops and your Mom and you or Charlie killed Dewey's deputies. Jenny and Marnie, Olivia, Kirby, Robbie, Trevor all to recreate what Billy and Stu did so you can be me!"

Dewey looked frazzled. Like he wanted to scream at all of you to shut up so he could think.

Jill scoffed, barely concealing her rage with the victimized acting. "Then why did you call Billy and Stu to the house?! Why are they here?...Isn't that what Randy and you fought about before he got killed? That he knew?" She gave like a stab in the gut with a cruel smirk trying to fight its way to her lips that Dewey couldn't see with her back to him...But you and Billy could.

Billy grumbled under his breath, "You fucking cunt."

You froze, breathing heavy as Dewey's eyes widened to saucers. He SHOULD be questioning how Jill would know any of that, unless she was recording and watching Randy before he died. And it's no secret Dewey wasn't exactly the quickest thinker but especially this clusterfuck warzone happening right now. He SHOULD be taking into consideration all the evidence that even if Billy and Stu were here; Jill's story wasn't adding up. But he was so hurt by this news all he could think of was one thing.

"How would you know that unless you saw it, huh!? How would you possibly know that!?" You argued. "It's over for you, Jill! You saw those recordings uploaded to the dark web because Charlie's camera was sending feedback to your fucking phone!"

Jill looked tongue tied. Glaring. Ready to jerk the gun out of Dewey's hands to shoot you. You never thought you'd feel relieved but you kinda did. Even if you got shot; it would prove Jill isn't innocent.

But Dewey...Had other things on his mind...Something that looked as painful to him as it did Randy tonight.

"...Y-You...You knew." He stumbled out with hurt in his voice, gun still raised.

"Dewey...This isn't important right now-" You tried to even say but he cut you off.

"The hell it isn't! You...You actually knew. This whole time?" His voice cracked.

Billy and you stood still, Dewey's eyes only focused on you, and Jill had nothing but smug satisfaction in her gaze even as she was in pain bleeding out.

Gale ran in and looked bewildered at the scene before. "What the absolute fuck..." She mumbled under her breath.

Jill quickly informed her like some kid tattling on another. "Oh God! Gale, Dewey saved me! I came to see YN and-"

Dewey held up a hand to silence her as he glared at you with tears in his eyes. "...You knew...YOU KNEW!" He yelled in betrayal.

"Dewey, stop! I didn't-"

Gale was faster than her husband as she saw Billy. "Jesus Christ. Is that?-"

"Billy Loomis and Stu Macher...Apparently...You were right Gale." He sniffed, shaking his head with a wry smirk as tears threatened to spill. "These were the guys all those years ago, weren't they?...YN, you're telling me you knew they were alive and lied to my face? You lied to all of us! You were helping them?!" Dewey looked close to just breaking down.

"This isn't the time! The murderer this time is Jill-"

"Did you!?" He demanded with such hurt and desperation in his eyes to say it wasn't so. That this was a mistake even if he knew better. "God, you did...The photo, the motel, the secrecy, you so distant...GOD YN-" He almost broke down crying right then and there at the pain you were sure he was feeling.

You stumbled, "Dewey I'm sorry but it's not what it looks like and I will explain everything after you arrest Jill! Please." You pleaded just as desperately.

"You helped hide the guys that murdered my little sister, YN... She was your friend! Tatum loved you! She trusted you!...I trusted you." His face scrunched in emotional turmoil as he shakily held the gun; still pointing at you and Billy. "Randy tried to tell me tonight. And a photo...The damn photo I had from the motel a decade ago and..." He shook his head.

Gale even looked at him oddly, "Photo?"

"Dewey, whatever you think...I swear, I didn't know-"

"Stop lying! It's too late, the pieces of this puzzle are adding up too much." Dewey demanded. All before addressing Gale. "YN going into her motel room with these two men...I knew she was acting weird and I pocketed the picture to save her from being accused by the media." Dewey sniffed shaking his head. "What an idiot I was. I thought they looked familiar but I didn't want to think...I just never thought-"

"What?!" Gale exclaimed at something that huge being hidden from her by her own husband.

You knew you weren't getting through to Dewey so you turned to Gale who didn't seem nearly as victorious as she should.

"Gale! Think! Plleeasse, I'm begging you; think!" You pleaded desperately not seeing a way out of this. "You know Jill isn't innocent. Why would she be down here? How would she know everything she does? Evidence points to her! Just check her fucking phone at the police station!" You yelled out as Gale looked away for a moment.

Gale looked so conflicted.

"Gale, please! I can explain everything just listen-"

All before Gale glanced at Billy behind you...Then steadied a glare your way. "...You ruined my fucking career and name. I had evidence you knew and you made me look like a fucking fool to the whole world! Ruined my relationship with Dewey for years over your sorry ass lies." She jeered in contempt. "You were my fucking bridesmaid and you do this to us? I can handle it, you know I can. But to Dewey!?"

Your heart squeezed at how bad this was.

Gale huffed, "You're just as guilty as I said you were...You made me look like a moron and broke my husband's trust hiding his sister's killers!"

"I did hide them but not how you think I did. I didn't, I swear! I didn't help them, I've never helped them other than towards other Ghostface's!"

Billy even spoke up, "She really didn't, morons. If you just get that lil bitch behind you in handcuffs; YN could explain-"

"Shut up!" Dewey ordered angry tears pricking his eyes. "YN, I can't believe this...I just can't...I can't trust you. Not a word!"

Jill shook her head with fake sadness, "YN, we all trusted you. Did you actually kill my cousin Sidney too?" She was fucking mocking you at this point.

You almost snapped. Ready to say things that dug your grave more but it was insane being painted this way and no one backing you up on 'the good side' while the true villain played everyone like puppets. The puppeteer herself smirked subtly beside Dewey.

Billy's breath quickened and jaw ticked behind you as you felt frozen.

"Wait a minute...If Billy's here then where's Stu Macher?" Gale asked as back up was on its way and Dewey had you and Billy at gun point.

"Huh?-" Dewey mumbled and even Jill's eyes widened in realization. Too busy arguing with you to notice.

"...You said Stu Macher? Where is he?" Gale mumbled with a raised brow close to Dewey.

Just then, Deputy Hicks charged in with guns blazing. "Sir! I'm here-"

!!!

All before Stu who had to have sneakily crawled on the floor while all eyes were on you and Billy, stayed hidden in the dim lit room. Then used the damn bedpan to womp Judy upside the head just hard enough to daze her and snatch her gun. By the time Dewey aimed his gun, it was too late. He had a gun and Billy quickly grabbed you from behind.

"Billy, what the hell!?-" You yelped out in a bit of pain and shock as Billy used you for a human shield and started dragging you out the room.

"Sorry YN, but we gotta get outta here now." He mumbled behind you before giving a cocky look to everyone.

Stu kept the gun aimed at Judy and when she tried to get it back he let off a bullet into her chest. You gasped not expecting him to go that far but then reminded yourself this is the guy that gutted his ex and hung her in a tree.

Stu grabbed your stuff off the chair in the room and smirked. He gave a grin to Dewey. Dewey glared, going to shoot at Stu.

"Do it and your Wifey dies." He leered, gun now aimed at Gale who held her hands up with wide eyes.

Billy already had you halfway out of the room as you tried reasoning. Everything was happening so damn fast. "Wait! Wait, wait, wait- This is gonna make shit worse! Stop!" You frantically begged. "Dewey! Please, I'm sorry! I swear, I was telling the truth years ago! I swear on everything I did not help them kill Tatum or Sid-"

It fell on deaf ears as Dewey glared with the gun pointed. Following his gaze at you and Billy while Stu was doing urgent hand motions to hurry up. Billy's gaze never left Dewey's as he side-stepped you both out of the room avoiding broken glass on the floor.

Now, it was Jill's turn to panic as she ordered Dewey with a snarl, "Do it! Shoot the fucking bitch! Shoot them!" And when you almost got out of the room with Billy she went for Dewey's gun.

"Jill, no!" Dewey shoved her away from almost getting the gun.

...And you saw the look on Gale's face. You saw it. That look of shock at Jill's tone and shift in personality even when 'hurt'...You knew Gale had to have her doubts but her damned ego was too great at being right all this time.

"Dewey?" Gale urged as Billy started slipping you both out of the room.

Jill joined in, "Aren't you gonna stop them?! They...They killed my friends!" She quickly saved. Still playing up that pathetic act.

"I can't without shooting YN!" He exclaimed.

Jill scoffed, "SO!? She's in on it! You heard her! She knew about Billy and Stu! She's the killer."

Gale eyed Jill. Dewey shook his head. Only you and Billy visible now but unable to get a shot at Billy holding you.

"YN!" He yelled to get your attention as you were dragged down the hall. "...Don't ever step foot in Woodsboro ever again. If you do?..." He trailed off shaking his head. You both knew. He'd arrest you by any means necessary...Or worse.

"...Dewey..." You mumbled with your chest aching.

"YN, c'mon." Billy jerked you away as Stu provided cover as you all moved in the shadows as much as your pained bodies allowed. Adrenaline is a hell of a drug.

Dewey had tears in his eyes. Lowering his gun and hanging his head. Jill scoffed and went to go to the hallway before Gale used her good arm to jerk her back, "What the hell are you doing?"

Jill lost her determined glare and looked like she was caught before she jerked away from Gale to quickly rushed to Dewey hugging him and 'sobbing'. "I was so scared! I don't want them to get away and hurt others, please!"

Dewey numbly wrapped an arm around Jill. "It's okay...They won't hurt anyone or I will stop them by any means necessary myself. I promise..."

Gale mumbled, "What are you gonna do?"

... Dewey called into his radio for an officer down and to not let YN, Billy Loomis or Stu Macher escape the hospital. He may not be able to kill us but if he thought in any way we had hid Tatum's murderers under his nose all these years and the police did catch us? Well...At least we could get medical attention, be seperated from those two and receive help we need or face some justice.

Dewey clutched Jill like he would you. Like he did with you back in 1996 in the hospital after that hellish night. A single tear running down his cheek as he tried to hold it together. An older, more experienced man now even if this betrayal still hurts. Jill was his to protect now...Even if it was from you.

Judy groaned a bit, getting up in a haze. No blood but hit in the head with a metal pan and shot with her bullet proof vest on just enough to knock the wind out of her.

And Gale just...Watched the scene beside herself as her husband let you escape while comforting...The victim.

(Remember when we were getting taco bell and listening to Wasn't Me in the car in the 2000's? Yeah, I miss that 🥲)

#scream #stu macher #billy loomis #my writing #scream fanfiction #yn fanfic #she her yn #my stories #polyghostface #scream 4 #fours a franchise

[jacaerysgf]

Ok so if you watched scream 4 Jill manipulates charlie into being with her and thinking he's her partner in crime then she kills him. So imagine that with Ethan you join him and date him you actually start to like him but kill and betray him in the end and get away or you can have reader die too if you wanna be extra angsty

Whatever it takes

Summary | You loved your boyfriend you really did, but did you love him enough?

Warnings | Carpenter!reader (tara’s twin), murder, angst, 1.6k wc, heavily jill coded reader

a/n | i loved writing this request !! i hope you like it sorry for the wait 😭

“You're an asshole!” Tara spits at ethan as he laughs, “I know!”

He turns to the other ghostface standing next to him with a smile, “Come on baby lets do this.” 

“Baby?” sam mumbles. The ghostface rips off the mask to reveal you. “y/n?” tara says in shock. “Hi tara.”

Ethan laughs, “God look at their reactions this is gold.” 

Your sisters watch in horror as ethan moves over to you and give you a deep kiss to which you smile when you pull back. “Its better than i could have imagined.”

You had always fallen into the shadows with your other sisters, Sam obviously had a mass amount of attention due to the Woodsboro attack, you would watch as people would come up and talk to her and scroll through hundreds of social media posts about her. 

You cant forget about tara. Who could? she wasnt internet popular like sam was but she was definitely popular amongst the people you knew. Everyone liked tara, of course they did she was funny and super pretty, basically everyone you knew has or had some sort of crush on her at some point and time like wes, amber, even chad. 

Then there was you. Tara’s twin sister. Nobody ever remembered you, there was sam, tara and, the other sister. You were fine with it at first but over time you grew to hate it, and hate them. Nobody ever seemed to notice you or even paid attention to you, not until him. 

You met Ethan early into your time at Blackmore University. You sat next to him during econ. You could see him stare at you out of the corner of your eye which got you thinking. When you turned to him with sweet eyes and sweetly asking if you could borrow a pen he melted and stuttered before giving you a pen and you gave him a sickly sweet smile to which he looked down and meekly smiled, he was so shy and sweet. He was perfect, exactly what you needed.

You two quickly became friends and soon enough started dating. When you two started dating your friends were happy for you, it was an easy transition since ethan was already friends with chad since they were roommates so he easily made his was into the friend group.

Ethan was quick to follow along with you. He had a troubled home life, never being shown any sort of love and affection as a kid and when he met you who showed him what it felt like to be loved it was easy to get him to do anything you watched him to just do he could please you.

You quickly learned ethan had very…. violent tendencies. He was more than eager to dawn the ghostface mask and begin to brutally, yes brutally kill the people he once called his friends. Anika, mindy, chad. It was easy to him, once he found out you hated them he began to hate them too. 

He was the perfect partner, doing all the heavy lifting because he didn't want you to hurt yourself which made you smile. 

You didn't truly like him. did you? you did. you found yourself having a warm feeling in your chest whenever he smiled at you, you would find yourself smiling and laughing after hearing his contagious laugh. it was dangerous. you never intended to actually begin to love him like he loved you when it got closer and closer to the time where you would end this you grew more and more upset. You hated it.

Before your sisters had even arrived, you had given ethan a big long hug, one he did not reject. He squeezes you tight like he always did as you bury your face in his neck, taking him in.”i love you ethan.” you can feel him laugh. “I love you too baby.” You pull back and kiss him deeply, he hums into the kiss and smiles, “i cant wait to celebrate with you afterwards.” You almost frown but nod your head leading him to give you a toothy grin.  

Sam watches in horror as ethan brutally stabs tara over and over infront of her, tears running down her face while shes sceaming for him to stop. Looking over at you her face grows angry, “Why are you doing this y/n please stop this.” 

You scoff youre growing more and more annoyed, “oh shut up itll be your turn soon.”

Ethan seems to be done having his fun with tara and he stands up turns back to you with a smile. “Fuck it felt good to kill her.” 

You barely take a glance at her dead body bleeding out with what must be twenty stab wound all over her. You smile and laugh at her empty and soulless eyes as sam hysterically continues to scream and cry.

Ethan turns to her and rolls his eyes, “god shut up.”

He turns back to you and smiles, “Your turn.”

You had told him he could deal with tara, he had his own aggression towards tara since she was always the one to pick on him so he wanted to be the one to kill her while you got to take care of sam. 

You give him your own smile and walk over to wear sam is sitting tied up and kick her in the stomach.

“You wanna know why im doing all this? why ive taken everything from you?” You run your knife along her cheek barely caring if she was actually listening to you over her tears. 

“because you took everything from ME.” you slash her arm and she cries out looking at you, “what are you talking about?” 

You scoff, “Its always been, oh sam and tara oh sam and tara but what about me! i have always been left behind, forgotten, left for last. Even my own friends i had made nyself chose you guys over me and im sick of it!” Another cut hits her along her stomach and she cries out in pain again. “once i slit your throat and watch you bleed out the news will think it was your fault, you went crazy and killed your best friends. But who will live to tell the tale y/n? im sure youre wondering. Me.”

Ethan thinks nothing if your words, glaring at sam as you make your way towards him and wipe a piece of dried blood off his cheek leading him to smile at you. Your hands shake and the grip you have on your knife grows tighter, “i have always lived in your shadow. in her shadow.” you point your knife now turned towards her dead body, “its my turn to be in the limelight and it would finally be my turn.”

You admire ethan for a moment, your eye's almost water as you stare at him, “and i cant share it. with anyone.”

The knife plunges into the side of his neck and his eyes widen as he stumbles back falling to the floor, blood pours out of his mouth and you move to stand above him.

“im sorry.” you crouch down and run your thumb along his cheek, he struggles below you, grabbing your elbows and staring at you with confused eyes which water. 

“im sorry baby, but i cant share my fame with anyone not even you. Im sorry.” 

You continue to watch and a tear falls down your cheek at his painful face, “i love you, I really do baby. forgive me.” 

With the last of his strength he reaches his hand up and cups your cheek, wiping the tear off your face before his hand falls and the light draining from his eyes. 

You frown, he was taking care of you and he did it until the very end. You rub your sleeves on your eyes wiping away any tears you had and stand up. Theres no time to mourn now. You had a job to do.

You turn over to sam, a new agression filling you body as you stalk over to sam. the knife covered in ethans blood tight in your hand.

It was her fault, everything was her fault none of this would have had to happen if it werent for her.

You lift the knife high and stare down at her ignoring any words she was saying or the tears running down his face as you slammed the knife down, hard, over and over and over and over and over. 

Admiring your handy work you check her pulse, feeling nothing you smile. it was over. but you cant celebrate yet, you make your way over to ethan trying not to look at his bloody face as you rip the ghostface suit off his body and throwing it into one of the empty trashcans and setting it on fire. 

You rushed around, you know somebody had called the police so you had to hurry, taking off your own outfit and putting it onto sams body, you had untied her and put the knives near her but not before stabbing yourself twice, “fuck” it hurt of course it did. it did make you smile, knowing that you were the one that caused sam to feel what you just felt but much worse.

You painfully drag sams body closer to where ethan was and take a minute to take a breath. 

You mess up your hair and slice at your arms leaving a couple of times hissing each time.

You can hear police sirens outside so falling to your knees and lay down on the ground, facing ethan. you smile, knowing he would be happy you had succeeded. 

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry drabble #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x y/n #scream vi #scream six #scream #jack champion #jack champion x y/n #jack champion x reader

[prescottsgirl]

YOU DREW STARS AROUND MY SCARS

sidney prescott x fem!reader

summary: after jill’s attack on sidney, you visit your girlfriend in the hospital to cheer her up.

warnings: small mention of blood but really just a bunch of fluff

this gif from the alternative ending ☹️ so so cute

this had to be one of sidney’s most painful ghostface attacks to say the least. not only emotionally after being betrayed by her teenage cousin, but physically too. she’s lost so much blood, she’s surprised that she’s even still alive. you’re not very shocked though; you know she’s a fighter.

“hey you! looks like someone’s feeling a little better,” you greeted sidney, walking into her hospital room. she was awake, smiling at you as you came closer to the bed. the past few days she’s mostly spent sleeping, as to not have to feel pain as much -and because the blood loss took away a lot of her energy.

you were ecstatic to see her so social today; you really missed seeing her smile and hearing her voice. you just wish you were able to go back in time and take the knife instead of her. she doesn’t deserve this.

“yeah, the doctor said i should be out of here in a couple of days. m’healing pretty fast.” you could tell just by the way she spoke that she was still a little out of it. however, you couldn’t wait to finally be able to take her back home. you’ve stayed in the hospital the most you can with her, but the nurses eventually make you leave. your house is pretty empty without your girlfriends presence.

with that being said, every single day, you wake up bright and early to come visit your girlfriend and to stay until dark.

“that’s awesome, baby!” you lean down and gently kiss her forehead before pulling a chair over to her bedside. “charlie keep’s sleeping on your side of the bed every night. i’m clearly not the only one who misses you.” after sidney’s dog had unfortunately passed away, you decided to surprise her with another golden retriever when the time was right. they quickly became best friends and he became very protective over sid. “he’s so sick of me, sid. i keep rolling over to hug you when i’m half asleep, forgetting that he’s there,” you said to lighten sidney’s mood.

she giggled, still brightly smiling even under these circumstances. “ooh, don’t make me laugh,” she placed her arm over her stomach and groaned, however, not showing any signs of wanting you to actually quit it. “now he knows how I feel every night.” she sent a smirk your way, simply teasing you around. she truly adores the fact that you’re always so cuddly on her in your sleep.

“hey! don’t lie, you love it.”

she bit down on her bottom lip at you, her cheeks flushing a soft shade of pink, “i do, and i miss it a lot.” she briefly gazes at you and her eyes soften even more before she speaks up again, “lay with me?”

you beamed at her and immediately got up out of your chair, “of course, my love.” she attempted to move her body to the side to make room for you, but she felt so weak in failing to do so. she grunted, her body limply laying back down and she looked so defeated. “don’t stress yourself, honey. let me help you.”

you wrapped your arms around her upper torso, gently angling her body so she’s not bending at her wound, then slowly sliding her legs over. she let’s out a deep sigh but doesn’t seem to be in any more discomfort than she already was. sidney is so independent, so to barely be able to move on her own is taking a huge toll on her.

you get in on the other side of the bed and wrap your arms around her body again. she rests her head against your chest, feeling drowsy. the medication is certainly not helping with her energy levels. your heart starts shattering again; how could someone, a family remember at that, want to even hurt sidney?

“oh actually, i forgot; i brought you something.” she lifts her head up once more and looks at you curiously. you reach over to the bedside table where you placed the surprise when you walked in. “i know this hospital food sucks, so i brought you your favorite homemade brownies and my sweatshirt so you can feel like i’m here with you when they kick me out.”

she dopily smiled at you and leaned forward to place a lingering kiss on your lips. you knew sidney has always loved stealing your clothes, and you do the same to her, especially when she was away on her book tour.

“I love you. and your amazing brownies,” she said and let out a yawn afterwards, very clearly exhausted. you giggled at her and kissed her cheek.

“well eat up and then i think someone needs to get some rest.”

“i think so too.”

as much as you hated sidney being hurt, you were glad that she was going to be okay and that you got to spend time with her in her recovery. you certainly weren’t planning on leaving her side again.

#sidney prescott #neve campbell #scream #sidney prescott x reader #neve campbell x reader #scream 1996 #scream 2 #scream 3 #scream 4 #scream 5 #wlw #lesbian #scream fanfic #jill roberts

[infin1ty-garden]

can you do a jill roberts x gn! reader? Reader and jill were childhood bestfriends but then reader moved.And now reader is back and she and jill reunite during the killings and jill is revealed and she prolly gives reader an option to join her or die? You could choose the ending.

UNTIL THE END

.ೃ࿐ summary: [ in request ] .ೃ࿐ pairing: jill roberts x gn! reader .ೃ࿐ warnings: weapons, injuries being inflicted, murder, stabbings & threats .ೃ࿐ word count: 747 .ೃ࿐ author note: sorry this request took a bit longer. some personal stuff came up. i'm working on other request but it's taking longer than expected.

masterlist.

Woodsboro barely changed since you'd last been there, at least that's what everyone tells you. To be honest you don't remember it well. Something or someone you will never forget is Jill Roberts. You used to be bestfriends. Living next door to each other. Inseparable, where one goes the other will follow.

When you moved the two of you tried to stay in touch but one thing led to another and you haven't spoken in a long time. You hoped she remembered you at the very least. Your parents picked a horrible time to move back as the ghostface murder's have started again. But there was nothing you could do about it.

You did reunite with Jill and she did in fact remember you as did her aunt. It felt as if almost nothing had changed. Jill fills you in on what you'd missed as well as introducing you to Kirby and Oliva. They seemed nice enough. Everyone was on edge since the murders started and Jill was glued to your side.

She was the one to invite you to the after party at Kirby's house. Once you arrived it seemed as if there was no one in the house. Suddenly Jill came running down stairs. "Where's everyone?"

"I don't know Sindy is on the roof chasing away the killer," Jill said, clearly panicking and assuring you somewhere safer. "The killer's here?" She didn't answer you, instead leading you to a hiding place. "I'm gonna call the cops. You stay here," the next few minutes you heard a lot of commotion but decided to stay put.

The door was ripped open by Charlie. He grabs you. Pointing the knife at your neck. "What are they doing here?" Jill was now dressed in a ghostface costume. "Are you trying to double cross me?"

"I would never do that, baby." In a blink of an eye she held the gun up. Shooting Charlie in the head. He dropped to the floor. You froze. Jill just killed somebody. She slowly moved closer to you. Cupping your cheeks and moving your head away from Charlie's body.

You only now noticed Sidney and Travis were also in the room. Sidney being the only one alive. "Look at me! You don't have to be afraid," she pulled you closer. "It's just you and me until the end. What do you say?" Sidney begged her not to do this. Not to harm anymore people.

"Until the end," you replied. Jill kissed you with ferocity, you had never experienced as if wanting to convey years of longing in one kiss. Everything after that was a blur. You ended up in the hospital. Sidney was pronounced dead. Leaving the only survivors being you, Jill and Gale.

Jill basked in the fame that came with being one of the survivors. You refused any attempt to get you in front of a camera. Every single thought in Jill's head was consumed by her new found fame or at least that's how you felt. She constantly cancelled on dates or didn't bother showing up.

You felt even more isolated. Your peers avoided you like the plague. Afraid that being in your presence would lead to them being the next victim. Even if the killers were caught. Your parents didn't know how to act around you. Resulting in them pretending as if nothing happened.

You decided to break up with Jill as she has barely shown a smidge of care since the relationship started. You thought a text was the best option since that's the only way the two of you interact. She didn't reply to your text. You went on with your day feeling a lot better. You thought Jill would care.

You thought wrong as she was holding a knife against your neck. "What did I do?"

"Why would you leave me?"

"Over text! What kind of person does that?"

"Why would YOU do that?" Tears were falling down her face. "You promised! You promised until the end," her voice got quieter by the end. Her grip on the knife loosened. You slowly took it from her. Putting it out of her reach. "You are the one who gave up on us. Not me."

"Please don't leave me. I'll change," her hands gripped your shirt. "I've heard that enough time to know that's not gonna happen."  The knife was in her hand again. "YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME! You can't leave me. I won't let you." She stabbed you.

Thanks for reading and requesting!

#jill roberts x reader #jill roberts #ghostface x y/n #ghostface x you #ghostface x reader #ghostface #scream 4 #scream movie #scream movies #scream franchise #scream x yn #scream x you #scream x reader #slashers #slasher x y/n #slasher x s/o #slasher x you #slasher x reader

[witchersmistress]

Hot as Hades

Good evening my darlings!! Posting this before I go to bed, I do have an alternate version in mind so don't be surprised if this changes 🤣🤣

Trigger Warning: hot and dirty finger banging session

Word count: 4.5K

Rory’s POV

One hundred thousand dollars?!?! What in the actual fuck.. As I go to make my way towards Mr. Whiskey , I am stopped by a security guard. “Ma’am Mr. Stone would like to meet you in his office, this way”  I looked back at Mr. Whiskey, he was standing now, his tall muscular frame in a charcoal grey suit with a black tie. His face was still casted in shadows but I know he is staring at me. I caught Jill and Ed out of the corner of my eye, giving them a small wave as we moved through the crowd, down a dark hallway.

The guard moved to the far end calling for an elevator, the doors opened and we walked in. scanning a black matte key card, the elevator began to move. I twisted my long locks in my fingers. We go off and walked down the hall to an office that overlooked the bustling city of LA

“ He’ll be with you shortly” the guard said and closed the door. Pacing the luxurious space, I panicked. What the hell was I doing, what did I get myself into. Going down that rabbit hole as the door opened “I’m sorry to keep you waiting Ms. Harlowe” Mr. Whiskey spoke with a slight southern drawl. I stopped dead in the room and just waited, it couldn't be. There is no way. I heard the tell-tale clinking of ice in glasses and the sound of liquid pouring. He continued as his heavy footsteps drew closer “ We seem to have a problem now don't we…” trailing off as he drew closer, a hand with a crystal tumbler reached around my left side, taking the glass from him, i looked at his hand as he placed it on my side to direct me to the couch, there was a tattoo on his hand, what looks like a bird wing stretched crossed the tight skin on his hand… No, absolutely not. 

There is no way.. He directed me to the couch sitting on the couch across from me, his large thighs slightly open as he settled into his seat. Dragging my gaze up his body slowly, i've never seen  him, in anything but jeans and t-shirts, but here he is sitting in a charcoal grey suit with a white buttoned shirt with a few top buttons undone and his tie MIA. that tattooed hand caressed his face, starting at his nose and down to his chin, you can hear him scratch his beard, god i love that sound, this man should not have this effect on me, hell this man has had an effect on me long before now, but he does and i look into the blue eyes of none other than Logan Syverson…. “ Now don't we Rory” he took a sip of whiskey but left the glass hanging from his tattooed fingertips “What the hell were you thinking Darlin? Selling yourself at a sex club, i thought you were smarter than that, baby girl”

The shivers that run down my spine when he calls me baby girl, my panties were getting wetter by the second as he scolded me.  Setting down my glass on the glass coffee table “Well you are one to talk Sy or should i be calling you Alex Stone. You fucking own part of this damn sex club!!” I stood up, rounded the coffee table and stuck my finger in his face. “You do not get to lecture me about what I do, you are the proverbial pot calling the kettle black.” his face had no emotion, nothing in his eyes to tell me what he was feeling. A solid poker face, that rotten motherfucker. I spun on my heels to make a quick and clean getaway until an arm wrapped me around the waist, pulling me back and pinned me to the wall , his large body holding  me down rather quickly. My face pressed against the cool marble walls as he leaned in “Listen here baby girl” his southern drawl was thicker than usual “ I did you a favor, by winning that auction, you don't know what kind of men are in this club and what they would do to a girl like you.” I bucked my hips in protest in response trying to get out from underneath him. 

 That was a bad idea, the dimly lit fire that was in his eye glowed brighter, a growl slipped out before he could stop it, his pupils growing like saucers. Grinding his hips harder into me,I could feel his thick erection digging into my ass, “Do you see what you do to me? I've tried so hard for years to keep my distance, but you are just so goddamn infuriating” he grabbed me by my hair and pulled my head back forcing me to look at him “You’ve done it now, there is no way I’m letting you go”,  he captured my lips, in a fiery kiss. I tried resisting, but it was utterly pointless, I was melting under him, I was about to be putty in his hands and he knew it.

 He moved his hand from my hair down to my neck and squeezed, applying the pressures to the sides, gasping from the interaction, dragging my lips away from him in an attempt to catch my breath, he bit my bottom lip and tugged on it.  Snaking my hand around the back of his neck, I pulled myself closer, falling down the rabbit hole with each kiss I gave him. His left hand, abandoned its position on my hip, snaked down to grab mine, bringing it down to the hem of my dress and dragging both my hand and dress back up my body. I was going to explode if this man did not touch me soon.  With my dress bunched around my waist on one side, his deft fingers glided across my abdomen, occasionally raking them across my skin as he delved into the front of my lace underwear. Thank you Jill for insisting that these.

Pulling his lips away from mine as one of his fingers circled my aching clit. “This belongs to me, every touch, every flutter of that pretty pink pussy, every orgasm that has my name coming off your lips like a prayer is mine do you understand?”  my eyes rolled in the back of my head as he plunged a finger inside my cunt. He licked his bottom lip as he continued to play with me. “ I remember the first time I caught you masterbating, we were up at your family's lake house, I arrived late. Everyone else was out in the canoes, I was going to my room when I heard these same soft whimpers and whispers, you are giving me now. I followed the sound to find your bedroom door cracked, i opened it more to make sure you were ok and i found you, riding your vibrator, i should have backed away, but i couldn't, not after what i heard.” he nipped my earlobe and started pumping in and out faster, adding another finger and his thumb circling my clit, IM could feel the warm ach forming low in my belly and i was powerless to stop it as i rode his fingers.

I remember that day clearly, I remember feeling like I had eyes on me but when I turned there was no one there, I moved to my back and opened my legs and grabbed my vibrator and went back to it. In my mind I was giving Logan a show, one that he would never forget..

I felt him hum in my ear as he drew me back from the past “ You were thinking about it weren't you? I can tell you got wetter, but tell me, do you remember what you said? I want you to hear you say it” he loosened his grip, ever so slightly, allowing me air, before he cut it off again. Thinking back to that moment, i began to ride his hand harder, tightening my grip on his neck, a low whimper left my throat as i felt that warm ache building in a small fire but growing larger by the minute, “Sy” i pleaded “ I want to show you how good i could make you feel” he picked up the pace of his thumb on my clit. He nipped at the bit of exposed neck and shoulder that my dress offered him.

“Hmmm, what else baby girl” he picked up his pace even faster. “Do you want to hear all the dirty things I've wanted to do to you over the years? The countless times I've wanted to tan your hide for the outfits you wore." The burning fire low in my belly was getting higher and higher, “Logan please, let me come for you” I begged him, I couldn't hold on much longer. “Such a dirty girl for Daddy aint you darlin? I remember after hearing you call my name as you came, i had to go take a cold shower and have a release of my own, but seeing you after that, it took everything i had to not drag you to my bed and fuck you like you deserve.. You want to be my good girl now?? Come for me, i want to hear your scream echo off these office walls and feel your cunt suck my fingers in and wont let me go” 

that was all it took, and I couldn't hold it back anymore, i rode out my orgasm on his fingers as he continued to praise me, the hand that was holding my neck, fell away to my waist to keep my steady as my knees began to buckle, the intense feeling came back as another orgasm washed over me. “Logan, please i can’t take anymore i just can't” he gave a wicked smile as he withdrew his hand and licked the juices off his fingers. “You tasted better than i imagined” he fixed my dress, pulling off his suit coat and draping it over my shoulders, picking me up and depositing me on the couch with a glass of water, chugging it greedily, he picked up my feet and deposited them into his lap, he watched me before he pulled out his phone, as he tapped away on the screen, he muttered "fucking Walter" before he walked over to his private bathroom, washing his hands and face, he moved back towards me. The buzzing of an intercom scared me to death, putting a hand to my chest, I willed my heart to slow down but she was going a mile a minute.

"Mr. Stone your car is here" Sy pressed a red button on the intercom " Thank you Matthias, we'll be down in a minute" stepping away from the intercom. He came over and helped me to my feet, fixing my dress. We walked to the elevator and took it all the way down to the parking garage. We stepped off the elevator and moved to his car, his demeanor had changed, he wasnt the warm and soft Sy but the hard and cold one I knew well. I cocked a brow at him as his driver opened my door for me. He barely looked at me " Please see that Ms. Harlowe gets to her destination safely and is compt for the missing half hour of time" he turned to look at me as he extended a hand " Mrs. Harlowe it was indeed a pleasure to have you as my company this evening" I looked at him and I was mortified, of course what we just did, did not mean a damn thing to him "Mr. Stone thank you for the decent evening, I wish you well" sitting in my spot and letting the driver shut the door behind me, I refused to look at that man or give him a second thought longer, as we pulled out of the garage, the tears I was holding back came streaming down and I was powerless to stop them as I watched the glowing lights of LA speed past me.

Sy's POV

Putting her in that car and sending her away was the cruelest thing I could have done to her. But it was for her safety, knowing that I'm letting the woman I've always wanted, drive away and into the night.

#henry cavill smut #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill #henry cavill characters #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson #syverson x reader #syverson smut #syverson fanfiction

[mothxmoons]

Baby trapping: Aftermath

What happened afterwards?

Afab but gender neutral

Baby trapping

Tw: Baby trapping/ Pregnancy/ Child birth/ Yandere/ Canon divergence

It had been a couple of weeks since the aphrodisiac incident between you and Wesker. He seemed to be way more clingy afterwards, protective essentially. He always saw you home, checked up on you, had lunch and sometimes dinner with you, would do paper work with you. Anything just to be near you. Neither of you brought up the incident, not that you needed to. It was obvious that it made you closer, however you were a little scared that it was only out of lust. This would be proved to be wrong as he asked you out on a date, both romantically and to talk about what had happened in the lab.

You two seemed to have talked the night away, ending up at his place, and just spending it in each other’s arms. It seemed like a casual relationship, but then you started to feel sick every morning. To be safe, you got one pregnancy test…one test became two, and two became three. It was pretty obvious what you had to tell Wesker the next day…as well as Irons for leave. You were never going to tell anyone what happened in that lab, nor were you going to tell who the dad was to anyone on the team. God you could just hear Jill and Chris if they found out.

So…with a little hesitation you did tell Wesker. Within a box, wrapped neatly. When Jill questioned about it, you just said it was a gift for him for protecting you on a solo mission a while back. It wasn’t…entirely untrue. Just a couple omitted details is all.

But when he opened that box? God. Did he love what was inside. Confirmed pregnancy test. Meaning all of his scheming to get to investigate that lab, to “accidentally” bump into the aphrodisiac case, to finally, finally having you all for himself was worth it and paying off. You two immediately had a chat outside of work, him utterly fascinated by the pregnancy. He treated you like glass, while you chastised him for doing so. Wesker helped you submit your leave to Irons, making sure it would get approved when the rest of STARS team would be deployed in the mansion. He also made sure no one else knew about why you were taking leave, just saying it was some personal matters and nothing more.

He would visit your home all the time, bringing food, helped clean around the house, helped set up a baby room, or baby proofed some of the house. It felt so sweetly domestic. It really felt like you two were settling down and starting a family together, well you were but this home for you and his future child was only temporary. Soon you’d be his spouse, taking care of your two’s family, out of danger, and living as pampered as you deserved. Wesker brought up that since you would be having his child, maybe you two should marry as soon as possible, to make it easier to raise the kid. Seeing no real problem in his plan, you agreed. Much to his delight.

With some undercover umbrella as your witness, you two were married and were set on building a life for your child. As your stomach grew the more fascinated he became with your body, kissing the bump as you two laid cuddled on your couch or bed. Hand constantly on your bump when cooking together. Just so utterly fascinated.

When the mansion incident happened you wouldn’t know until they arrived back. However, they didn’t arrive back quick enough. Wesker did though. He made sure to take you away from the city he deemed too filthy for his family. He also made sure to make it seem like there was a struggle and a kidnapping, and also stole all the baby stuff from the house. You would never know why, nor would you know. He said there was an emergency, and that you two needed to move for safety. No one will ever know that you were with child, or that you are with his child. He needed you, he wanted you to be safe. And so, you were in a new place far far away from cities, just a small town in a very rural area. An easy place to hide his own mansion, to hide you, and a small town filled with his own employees.

When you had given birth to your son, he was ecstatic. Holding you close, and holding your newborn close to both of you. You had given him the greatest gift of all, and something to further his plans without you even knowing. He would watch his son grow up, and you his beloved spouse made the perfect parent. His son would never go wanting but also making sure he didn’t grow up spoiled.

The little copy of your husband loved to follow him around at home. Not that he minded. Your son was living proof of your love and devotion for Wesker. And by the time those fools figure out what happened all those years ago, it’s already too late.

And so to Perseus, the son, a legacy.

#albert wesker x reader #yandere idea blurb #tw.baby trapping #tw.pregnancy #fic

[storyshark2005]

FIC - (Carraville, WIP)

[the gap between crack and thunder]

📖 Read the first two chapters here

Summary:

"No one wants to grow up and be a Gary Neville." -- Jamie Carragher (in real life) Also Jamie Carragher (in this story, eventually): - Gets unwillingly divorced = LOSES at marriage - Has a crisis re: divorce - Has a crisis re: his own 'Gary Neville's best mate' status - Accidentally has sex with his pundit/partner/best mate - Realises he might be more over his failed marriage than he thought - Realises he might want to keep having sex with his pundit/partner/best mate - Must figure out how to WIN his pundit/partner/bestmate/boyfriend Read this fic in progress to WATCH HIM WIN!!!

Here's a little preview!

----

Jamie claps Gary around the shoulder and by the time they get to the set, Jamie’s ready and willing to play into the immediate ribbing session that Wrighty, Roy, and Jill throw his way. Jill asks if he was late because of his extra elocution lessons, and everyone laughs. She’s learning to get stuck in with the banter, is Jill. 

Beckham’s in Jamie’s seat, next to Gary. So Jamie has to jokingly-not-jokingly tell him to move. Beckham, although annoying and a bit dim, is nothing if not amenable. 

“No worries, my mistake,” he laughs, settling down at the end of the table between Jill and Roy. When Jamie sits, the seat’s still warm from Beckham’s bum. Ugh.

“That’s the special guest spot!” Gary beams at his old teammate. He pockets his phone, scooting his chair slightly closer to Jamie’s. “The camera angle’s better there, anyway.”

Wrighty jokes there are no bad camera angles on David Beckham. Everyone laughs. He is as annoyingly handsome as Jamie remembers. He’s got a few more tattoos maybe. Half of them are just the word ‘Victoria’ in different languages, or annoying platitudes like ‘Dream Big’ and ‘Be Unrealistic’.  

“I told you!” Wrighty laughs, elbowing Roy. “I told you he’d say something!” 

“It’s where I’m meant to sit! I’m the co-host!” Jamie says, trying to keep his voice from cracking up to falsetto. 

“You are not!” Gary fires back, askance. “You’re one of our regular panellists, same as Wrighty and Roy and Jill.” 

Jill grimaces thoughtfully. “I mean he’s a bit right, what with him always sittin’ next to you, Gary. And you’re a bit of a double-act these days, anyway. So it’s sort of a ‘co-host by association’ situation, I’d say.”

“Exactly!” Jamie throws his hands.

Roy leans in to Beckham, nodding with his arms crossed. “See, they’re a little precious over each other these days.”

Gary laughs along, ears gone pink. Beckham looks delighted, smiling at Gary and then Jamie in turn, with his stupid sparkling hazel eyes expertly centred beneath his perfectly shaped eyebrows. 

Smiling, even though Jamie’s winning. What a knob.

Gary clears his throat. “We all ready, then?” 

The director peers up over one of the cameras. “If everyone could just kind of angle their chairs a bit more towards David? A bit more there, Jamie. Yeah, even a little more— alright, that’s fine. Gary, whenever you’re ready.” 

Gary sits up a little straighter, his face does the little smooth-over bit it does whenever he’s about to go on camera. 

“Right,” he says, and they’re off. 

***

📖 Read Ch 1 and 2 here

#fic excerpt #carraville #this has been exceptionally FUN #WIP #the gap between crack and thunder

[colormepurplex2]

Till Death Do Us Part | Enemy of My Enemy is My F̶r̶i̶e̶n̶d̶ Lover

↳ Hitman Yoongi x Kidnapped f.Reader ⤜ Enemies/Lovers ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 23,272 ⚠️ Blood, gore, violence, murder (weewooweewoo this warning shouldn’t be taken lightly), angst, knife play, biting/marking, virginity loss/first-time vaginal sex, dom/sub dynamics, power play, restraints, Yoongi still has a breeding kink but he's keeping it tame (shame, I know)

Next Chapter⇾ ⇽Previous Chapter ◅ Back to chapter list

"Do you really have to go?" you ask, looking out the window of your new bedroom. It's not technically just yours, it's the room you'll be sharing with Yoongi now, in the new house you've been moved into.

Your honeymoon, what was intended to be a week-long trip to the cabin, was just severely short. On the second night, Yoongi received a phone call from his father requesting he come back early because the meeting in Warsaw was being moved up. So, Yoongi packed you both up and Wenton had you back on the estate property in just a few hours.

"This isn't really something I have a choice in," he mutters in response from the closet, where he's changing out of his casual wear and into a suit.

"How long will you be gone?" That's not something he'd shared yet. You turn from the window, finding Yoongi coming out of the closet.

His fingers are doing up the last few buttons on a navy long-sleeve dress shirt. "Two weeks, at the least. Could be three, though. It really depends on the buyers and how long it takes for negotiations."

If there’s one thing that turns your stomach, it's hearing talk about the inner workings of The Hitman's arms dealing business. You can't help the small shudder that rolls across your shoulders. "Does it really have to be now, though?" You don't mean for it to sound like a whine, but it catches in your throat just enough for Yoongi to notice. His demeanor instantly changes, softening.

"If I didn't have to go, I promise I wouldn't," he assures, abandoning the jacket he was about to slip on to step closer to you. His right hand comes up and cups your cheek. "I know it feels like we just found each other again, but I swear everything will be okay. There are things I'll need you to handle while I'm gone. You'll do that for me, right? You'll be good and work hard for me?"

"Of course," you promise, even if you still have reservations about trusting him.

Yoongi said two to three weeks. It's been almost seven now. You've had little communication with him. It's all mostly word of mouth from Wenton that Yoongi is fine and will be home soon. Though, every time you press and ask when 'soon' is, Wenton avoids giving a straight answer and just tells you to try being patient.

The last few weeks have been weird, to say the least. It took at least the first week to get used to being in this new home. It's quaint and cozy, but feels foreign in so many ways. With a more modern ranch-style layout, it only has a single level with a large open-concept kitchen, living room, and dining area. There is a laundry room off the kitchen with a half-bath. The laundry room also has a door leading to the backyard. No pool, but there is a large hot tub and even a sauna room. A hallway extends from the living room, leading to the three bedrooms. A jack-and-jill bathroom sits between the two spare rooms with the master suite at the very end of the hall. The en-suite bathroom is large, with a garden tub and stand-alone shower that has dual heads. A large walk-in closet holds more storage and space for clothing than you think you'll ever have a need for. Even already full of both yours and Yoongi's things, the home feels somehow empty.

Before leaving, Yoongi gave you free rein to decorate however you wish. Wenton stayed behind, something about The Hitman wanting as few extra ears in Warsaw as possible, and has been instructed to assist you in anything you may need, including decorating the space.

Despite being given this freedom, you've found very little motivation to actually change anything. You blame it in part on the fact you still feel like a prisoner, just with a different set of walls surrounding you now, but another deeper part of you feels the need to have Yoongi's input on the decorations, too. After all, it's his home just as much as it's yours, maybe even more so.

You stand in the middle of the master bedroom, feeling a little uneasy. Everything is so pristine and oppressively white. Down to the crisp white sheets covering the bed and the subtle smell of cleaner in the air, it reminds you of a hospital room. As soon as Yoongi returns, this is the first room you want to change.

Shrugging out of your oversized sweater, you toss it into the hamper followed by your tights, socks, and bra. Your toes flex against the cold hardwood floor in the closet as you dig through the drawer containing your sleepwear.

It's been maddening, being in this house all alone, especially after everything you found out about at the cabin. You thought you would have had far more time to talk over everything with Yoongi, to solidify more of a plan. But, as it is, he left you with a few tasks that have left bitter tastes in your mouth.

Slipping on a pink silk tank top, you make your way over to the bedside table you've claimed as your own. Atop it are stacks of papers and a few notebooks and ledgers. This has been your nightly routine, sitting in bed and pouring over documents Yoongi left for you to sift through. You're looking for answers, without really knowing the questions. Yoongi said to just make note of anything that looks important or out of place. So, as you settle under the duvet, you grab the next stack of papers and get to work.

You've been assured the house is safe, that there are no cameras or listening devices, but you still can't help nervously glancing around the room before cracking open the first notebook. Knowing you were being watched at the cabin, back at the main home of the estate, and even tracked through your phone, really put a damper on your ability to relax.

Even so, you find yourself quickly engrossed in the contents of the notebook. It's filled with accounting reports, purchase and trade logs dating back between seven and eight years ago. There are a few names Yoongi wants you to look out for, names that are connected to the documents Namjoon found that led to the apartment in Tokyo.

It's weird digging into a part of your father's life like this. In a way, it still feels unreal. Like there is a part of you that refuses to accept that your father was involved in anything, whether it was weapons dealing related or an affair. Yoongi gave you proof when he gave you the box of things to go through. There were pictures, letters, even a signed lease agreement on the Tokyo apartment. All supporting the fact that your father had this whole other life.

You haven't thought much about your parents in the last few years. In the beginning, when you were first taken, it seemed like you'd never be able to get over what happened that Christmas Eve. Dreams quickly turned into recurring nightmares, seeing your mother bleed out under your hands and the sickly wet feeling of your father's blood and brain matter splattering the side of your face...those are things you thought you'd never stop remembering. Though, over time, things got easier. The nightmares became less frequent and even their faces started to become hazy in your mind.

Now, however, seeing photos of your father with another woman has brought everything back into sharp focus. At first, it made you sad, seeing the images of your father happy with someone else. But, that sadness quickly morphed into anger. Anger at the fact that when all was said and done, your father still chose to sign a marriage contract to hand you over to The Hitman's family. Full well knowing just what his lover went through at the hands of the man himself. That's confirmed in the letters between your father and Yoongi's mom, Aneta...Netty. That's her name, but you still find it hard to stomach the idea of saying it out loud or even thinking it too often. Netty sent so many letters to your father, letters that clearly were tear-stained, describing the heinous acts The Hitman committed; both inside and outside of the home.

Glancing at your phone on the bedside table, you realize it's already after midnight. You don't necessarily have to go to sleep. It's not like you have a bedtime or need to wake up at any specific time tomorrow, but keeping some sort of semblance of a schedule helps you feel less disorganized and like you're just floating in the ether. Which is something you know can easily happen when you're cooped up inside, day in and day out.

You close the notebook, slipping a loose sheaf of paper between the pages as a bookmark. Flicking off the bedside lamp, you slide down under the duvet and roll onto your side and face the empty space beside you. Before closing your eyes, you make a mental note to ask Wenton tomorrow if he's heard anything more from Yoongi.

It's dark in the bedroom when your eyes flutter open. You're a little disoriented, blinking several times to dispel the awkwardness between wakefulness and sleep. A strip of light is coming through from under the bathroom door and you can faintly hear the shower running. You glance around the room, eyes taking in the still-made other side of the bed. Nothing looks out of place or disturbed, no indication that it's Yoongi in the bathroom.

The disorientation turns into a hyper-awareness. Slowly pushing back the duvet, you reach over and slide open the drawer of your bedside table. Your fingers glide over cold steel before wrapping around the grip of the pistol Yoongi gifted to you before he left for Warsaw. The Ruger LC9 is small compared to other handguns, but you're comfortable enough with it. Silently pulling it out of the drawer, you get a firm grip on it and slip off the bed.

You're barely aware of how cold the wood floor is under your bare feet as you pad across the room to the closed bathroom door. It's just a few short steps, but with enough space that you're comfortable racking back the slide on the pistol without fearing whoever is in the bathroom might hear. Flexing your fingers around the grip of the gun, you bring it up until your forearm is over your chest, the gun lofted just to the side of your face. Using your other hand you grip the door handle to the bathroom. You give it a slight test turn and ease out a slow breath when you feel it's unlocked.

Using the element of surprise is your best bet, you know this. So, with that in mind, you quickly flick open the door and drop your arm to aim the gun into the lit space of the bathroom. A cold rush of adrenaline pumps through you before you let out a startled cry.

"Oh my god, Yoongi!" You swiftly shut the door behind you and discard the pistol on the counter of the sink. With frantic, trembling hands you yank open the glass door to the shower.

It's like a scene from a horror film. In a pile in the corner, you see Yoongi's discarded clothes surrounded by a pool of red-tinged water. Tendrils branch off from the puddle and swirl down the drain with the water cascading off Yoongi's body. Red and pink splatter the white tiles, thick strands of crimson plop to the tiled floor as he groans and shoves himself back from where he was leaning against the far wall.

His back is to you, leaving you open to see the extent of the scars and fresh wounds peppering his skin there. "I didn't mean to wake you," he grunts out, finally turning fully to face you. He slumps back against the wall, his right hand bracing against the other wall and his left cradling his side. Streamers of red feather from beneath his hand where it's clamped against his skin.

"What the fuck?!" you exclaim, rushing into the shower, heedless of the spray that instantly soaks through your clothes. "You're hurt!"

His chuckle turns into a groan. "I just ripped a stitch, it's fine."

"Fine? Ripped a stitch? What the hell happened? When did you get back?" The questions flood out of you as you ease his hand away from his side, uncovering the ragged stitches slanting just above his hip bone. Two have popped, the skin shredded apart.

He tries to stand up straighter but his knees buckle and he nearly takes you down with him. You just manage to catch him, saving you both from hitting the hard tiles. "There is a first aid kit under the sink. Inside there are supplies to repair the stitches and some styptic powder to help with the bleeding. I'll explain as soon as I'm not on the verge of passing out, yeah?" His attempt at a smile turns into a grimace that has you scrambling out of the shower and digging under the sink.

Several tense minutes later you've managed to get the bleeding stopped and helped him replace the popped stitches. You keep anticipating an explanation, but find yourself continuing to take care of Yoongi in silence. It takes a few tries, but you finally get him to sit in the bottom of the shower, legs splayed out and his stitched side as far from the running water as possible. His eyes are glassy, bloodshot, and he grimaces as you clean and tend to the smaller set of injuries scattered over his battered body. Along with the numerous cuts, his bottom lip is split and you can just make out the starting of a bruise around his left eye.

Yoongi's warm to the touch, warmer than you think he should be from the shower. A few of the wounds look fresh while others you can see must be several days old. The confusion and worry nearly double with each new antiseptic pad you open. By the time you've got him cleaned up and the water is running clear, his eyes are closed and his chest is rising and falling with even breaths.

"Yoongi, can you stand? Do I need to call Wenton? I don't know if I can get you into bed by myself." You shut off the water, stripping out of your own sodden clothes and grabbing towels for both of you.

His eyes flutter open as you kneel before him, your own towel tucked around your torso. "I can stand with your help, just go slow for me." You can hear his teeth grind as he shifts his weight. Each moan of pain from him tugs at your heart until you finally have him up, an arm thrown over your shoulder for support. Yoongi grips one side of the towel and you help him tuck the other around his hips, low enough to not disturb the stitches.

"I'm going to get something to cover those as you sleep," you murmur, settling him on the edge of the bed. You grab a roll of gauze from the first aid kit and wrap it around Yoongi's waist, securing a sterile pad over the red and angry stitches. "You probably need some antibiotics, too, you're burning up and those stitches look like an infection might be setting in."

"Sure, sure, just tell Wenton," he groans, laying back against the pillows. You do your best to shift his body over, swinging his legs up and under the duvet. The towel is still wrapped low around his hips. He untucks the end and lets the towel fall open, uncaring to move it any further. "There's some Dilaudid in the medicine cabinet, that'll do for now."

"An opioid?" you whisper to yourself as you head back into the bathroom in search of it. "Yoongi, what happened?" you ask a little louder coming out of the bathroom with the small pill nestled in your palm and a glass of water from the tap.

"Just a little disagreement with the Bratva, no big deal," he mumbles before swallowing the pill down.

You stare at him for a moment. "A little disagreement with the Bratva, no big deal?" you parrot back to him. "This doesn't look like no big deal!"

Yoongi harrumphs, pressing his lips into a thin line and avoiding your gaze. "My father may have pissed them off and this is the product of being collateral damage," he mutters, vaguely gesturing to his body. His eyes finally flick to yours. "Don't look so aghast. This isn't my first rodeo, princess, I've been stabbed plenty of times before."

"Stabbed?! You need a doctor," you insist, twisting to grab your phone from the nightstand.

Yoongi catches your hand in a weak grasp. "I've already seen a doctor. Dr. J. was on the plane with us, he's the one that did the stitches. They would have held, too, if I didn't get into a pissing match with Namjoon when we landed." The last part is grumbled, barely audible enough for you to hear. His eyes flutter shut and he lets out a slow, labored breath like the conversation is taxing.

"Namjoon? What happened with Namjoon, Yoongi?"

Yoongi's even, shallow breathing is the only response you get. His brow is pinched like he's in pain but it slowly smooths out with each additional exhale he lets out. You want to press for answers, to figure out just what went down and whether or not you should be worried. But, looking at him right now, he's so vulnerable and it does something to you. Like a knife twisting in your gut, you realize you're genuinely concerned for his wellbeing.

It feels like it'll be impossible to sleep now. You do one last check of his injuries, peeking under the gauze wrap to ensure there isn't any more bleeding. Fluffing out the duvet, you make sure it's covering him but not tight enough to cause discomfort to his injuries. You disappear into the bathroom for the next fifteen minutes, drenching the shower in bleach you found under the sink and scrubbing away the blood splatters.

You wring out Yoongi's discarded clothes, unsure if they're salvageable or not. When you stretch out his gray dress shirt, you have to suppress the strangled gasp that peaks in your throat. The shirt is riddled with holes, thin slices that you can tell are from a blade. There are dozens, like Yoongi was used as some sort of macabre human pincushion. Balling up the shirt, you pitch it into the bathroom trash and then hang up the jacket and pants over the top of the shower door. Your own clothes follow his and you can't help but notice the small smears of red staining your tank top. You've never been in a situation to try and get blood out of clothing, for all you know everything should just be trashed. You contemplate it for a moment before abandoning the bathroom, leaving the clothes to be dealt with further, later.

Stepping into the closet, you discard the towel and pull on a dry shirt and pair of panties. Yoongi still looks to be sleeping as you settle on the other side of the bed. You close your eyes, intending to try and get a few more hours of sleep, but the sheets shifting beside you have your eyes popping back open.

"He doesn't like not knowing what you're doing," Yoongi murmurs in the dark. "He cornered me in the hangar just after Father and Dr. J. left." He lets out a tired sigh before continuing, "He didn't like me being gone for so long, leaving you in peace. Apparently, he tried to get into the house a few times, but Wenton was able to hold him off with assurances that I'd double my efforts for the time I've been gone. Namjoon wants proof...proof that I'm making you suffer for my time-lapse." Yoongi's eyes find yours in the dark. You can barely make out the shape of his face, but there is enough low light to distinguish the whites of his eyes. "It's all a sick and twisted game for him. I'm so sorry you're in the middle of this bullshit...I promise, I promise we'll figure out a way out soon." His words trail off, his promise barely more than a husking whisper. Even breaths follow, if a little shallow and rattled-sounding.

You prop up on an elbow, leaning over the space between your bodies. "Sleep. Just sleep for now," you whisper, brushing a strand of his unruly hair from his forehead. It's grown out, even in just the eight weeks he's been gone, long and a bit shaggy across his forehead and down the sides of his neck. It surprises you a little when you find yourself pressing your lips to the space of his forehead you just uncovered. Such an endearing gesture isn't exactly something you would have pegged so soon in your rekindling relationship with Yoongi. But, it does leave you feeling a little warmer on the inside, a little less lonely and afraid.

Those feelings carry over into the morning, but are quickly pushed to the side by worry and concern. Yoongi feels less feverish, but he's still quite pale and you can tell he's in pain.

"My phone, it should be on the kitchen counter." He tries to roll over, clearly intent on getting out of bed.

Being as gentle as you can, but also stern, you tug him back down. "Stay put. I'll get anything you need."

Now that the sun is up, you can clearly see the trail of blood through the bedroom. You follow it with a queasy stomach, leading down the hall and through the kitchen. It continues into the laundry room, so you assume Yoongi came in through the back door last night. As he said, his phone is lying on the counter. His keys are beside it, drops of blood smeared on the marble surface under them. Plucking his phone up, you escape back into the bedroom.

"I need to call Wenton. When's the last time he was by?"

You think about it for a moment. "He was here two days ago, which means he should be back by today. He's been coming around lunchtime, usually with food."

Yoongi grunts in understanding. "Were my glasses on the counter, too? I can't remember when I had them last."

"No, I'm sorry, they weren't. Maybe you left them in the car?"

He sighs, but it turns into a groan and his brow pinches. The screen on his phone is black, no matter how many times he thumbs it. "Looks like it's dead. Do you mind calling him? Just tell him it's 'status yellow' and he'll know what to do."

"Status yellow?" you question, grabbing your own phone and pulling up Wenton's contact. "What's that mean?"

Before Yoongi can answer, Wenton is picking up. You relay Yoongi's 'yellow status' to which Wenton promptly huffs a breath and hangs up. You give Yoongi a questioning look, pulling your phone away from your ear and glancing at the blank screen.

"Think of yellow as an I'm-hurt-but-not-dying code. The codes are simple, something you can also use. Green means it's something self-induced like a hang-over and I'm out of Tylenol, yellow is a bit more severe but not life-threatening like already being stitched up but I might have a minor infection, red is needing medical assistance immediately or I might die, and white is...well, white is something I hope to never use. And if I do, then it's not Wenton who gets that phone call, it's Rio with the cleanup crew because I'm probably staring death in the face with no way out. So, yellow means he'll bring just enough medical equipment to put me on the mend, but won't bother contacting Dr. J. or setting up transport to the infirmary," Yoongi explains, nonchalantly, like he's discussing something mundane like summer weather patterns.

You sit there stunned for a few moments, trying to figure out maybe why you're just now learning about this code system he has. Deciding it's best to just come out and ask, you do. "Why am I just now learning about this?"

Yoongi gives you a hard-to-read look. "Honestly? I was hoping you'd never need to know it. But, I also wasn't sure about...well, us. Things haven't exactly been rainbows and sunshine." He holds up a hand, warding off the snarky comment about to come out of your mouth. "Before you say anything, I know that's my own fault. Trust me, I regret it more than you can imagine...which is part of the reason I'm doing what I can to ensure that we get out of this."

"Yoongi, can I ask you something?" you ask before slipping into the bathroom and retrieving another painkiller for him.

He nods as he takes the pill with a grateful smile. "Anything."

"You keep saying 'we'. That 'we'll' get out of this." The next part hurts to even think about, much less ask aloud, but it's something that's been weighing heavy on your mind. "Is this even something you're able to get out of? This life?"

Yoongi doesn't respond for a long time. He toys with a loose thread on the duvet, wrapping it around his finger over and over again. You watch as the tip of his finger turns red, then purple, before he gives the string slack and the skin slowly fades back to his normal flesh tone. "I think so," he finally answers, bringing his eyes up to yours. They're a lot clearer than they were last night, not nearly so glassy or bloodshot. "I've wanted out of this life for as long as I can remember. This isn't what I expected when I was adopted," his voice wavers slightly. "When The Hitman and Netty first arrived at the children's home, it was like a dream come true. What they offered was a new life, a fresh start. You see, it wasn't just a regular children's home for kids without parents or guardians...it was a home for troubled youth. All seven of us were there, we were like our own little punk-ass gang. All the other boys were so scared of us, even the workers steered clear. But, it's not like we wanted that, not really. Maybe a few of us were a little more messed up than the others, but we all just wanted one thing...a home, a place we could grow and learn. We just wanted what any other kid wants, someone to care about us."

An ache settles in your chest. You were aware that all of the sons were adopted, but this is the first time you're actually hearing their story. It's not hard to imagine them always being monsters, it's easier that way. In a sense, Yoongi just confirmed that they kind of were monsters, a little gang of punks. But, it is hard to stick to that narrative completely, knowing the motive behind it. After all, we're all just animals in the end anyway, right? One step removed from being feral. A simple act of violence can turn the tables just as much as one of kindness. These boys just needed someone to be kind to them. Instead, it seems they just got a tighter leash.

"Were they cruel to you?" The words make your stomach turn, but they come from a place of empathy.

Yoongi smiles a little. "No. Not at first. It didn't take long for us to understand that Father was a little different, that his job wasn't exactly the most morally straight. I saw my first dead body just a month after we were brought home with them. It really wasn't until years later when we'd see the truth for what it was...when he started wanting us to be a part of the business. Mother didn't like it, she didn't want us to be part of this world. For the most part, it was really only the older boys, Seokjin, myself, Namjoon, and Hoseok who were under his thumb. That changed when Mother died, almost overnight."

It's not like this is a revolutionary confession. This shouldn't change how you feel, you're still in a loveless marriage to a man that's been a cruel monster to you for the last year. However, the ache in your chest seems to intensify, paired now with a burning behind your eyes. "I'm so sorry," you whisper, not sure what else to say.

"Don't be upset, please." Yoongi slides a thumb across your cheek, catching a tear you didn't even realize had slipped out. "We don't deserve your sympathy, princess," he coos softly, trying to comfort you which seems to only make it harder to hold back the tears.

"I should be the one trying to comfort you," you mumble, blinking rapidly to thwart more tears from escaping. "No one deserves a life like this, regardless of what's been done in the past. You were just boys, you deserved better than that."

A knock on the doorframe to the bedroom startles you and Yoongi both. "Sorry, Sir, I don't mean to interrupt." Wenton clears his throat, eyes averted.

"Come on in," Yoongi calls, giving you one more half-smile before turning his attention to Wenton. He comes around the side of the bed and sets a box, that much resembles a fishing tackle box, on the bedside table. Giving Yoongi a once over, Wenton steps into the bathroom and you hear the sink running as he washes his hands.

Coming back into the room, Wenton peels back the duvet, mindful of Yoongi's nudity, to just expose the gauze wrapped around his middle. "Dr. J.'s handy work I assume?" he questions, flipping the lid of the box open and pulling out a pair of medical sheers and a pair of latex gloves. Yoongi just grunts in response. "Any idea how deep?" His question is followed by the snapping of the gloves against his wrists as he pulls them on.

Yoongi hisses between clenched teeth as Wenton pulls away the sterile pad covering the stitches. "Deep enough," he grits out. "Maybe an inch or two. Didn't get anything vital."

Wenton hums, tenderly checking the skin around the stitches. "Mild infection, probably would clear up on its own. But, it might be best to take some antibiotics to help it along. What happened to these two end stitches here? The skin looks like ground hamburger, Dr. J. isn't that messy last I knew."

"I'd laugh if it didn't hurt so fucking much," Yoongi winces, holding back a chuckle. "Had to repair those myself, it's been a while since I've had to do my own stitches, I guess I'm a little rusty."

You're still uncertain as to whether or not you can trust Wenton. He did, after all, send off your soiled bed sheets from the cabin to Namjoon. Yoongi assured you that he's the one that told Wenton to go along with it, that he's in on all the plans to get away. If Yoongi trusts him wholeheartedly, you guess that should be reason enough for you, too. But, it's just so damn hard to trust anyone, considering.

"Do I even want to know why?" Wenton mumbles more to himself than Yoongi. "I guess I don't need to ask how Warsaw went, your body tells me all I need to know." He gives you a fleeting wary look before speaking his next words. You're not the only one with trust issues, it seems. "Will we need to change any plans, account for anything new?"

Yoongi relaxes back against the pillows, taking the pills Wenton offers him from a small container in the box. "Shouldn't be necessary. This was just a disagreement between Father and the Bratva...I may have paid the price but Hoseok and Namjoon are the ones who will be reaping the rewards."

That's confusing. This is the first time Yoongi has mentioned Hoseok and Namjoon in relation to the dealings in Warsaw. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He looks at you. "I was going to mention it before, but we kind of got sidetracked in conversation and I was apparently too out of it last night to think clearly. The reason the meeting in Warsaw was moved up, I found out, was because Father wasn't just securing a new arms deal...he was also securing Hoseok a wife." That shocks you, but not nearly as much as what he says next. "Though, in the end, we seemingly bargained for two...one for Hoseok and one for Namjoon."

"Mercy." Wenton rubs a hand over his mouth, belying his first real show of something other than indifference in your presence. "Those poor souls." 💔💔💔

Two weeks later, you find yourself flicking through the dresses in the closet. Yoongi informed you this morning that you both would be having dinner at the main house tonight. You find it odd, as you don’t recall there ever being casual dinner parties like this before, at least not when you were living there. But, it’s not like you can say no.

Yoongi’s stitches are nearly ready to be taken out. Wenton had him on a cocktail of medications for a week before Yoongi flat out refused to continue and has grumbled every day since that the stitches need to come out. Together with Wenton, though, you were able to convince him to give them more time.

Already in a smart navy suit, Yoongi perches on the edge of the bed watching you still in the closet. “How about the navy and white halter?” he suggests, giving you a small smile when you look up, startled, having gotten lost in your own thoughts about the dinner tonight.

You grab out the aforementioned dress. It’s pretty, simple and comfortable, with a thick halter strap and a-line skirt. The bodice is a deep navy, matching Yoongi’s suit, and the skirt has an asymmetrical white pattern that is pleasing to the eye. “You don’t think it’s a little elementary to be matching?”

He lets out a full laugh, something you haven’t heard from him in a while. “Is it childish of me to want to match my wife?”

Wife. It’s still hard to wrap your head around that sometimes, even though it’s been months now. It’s nice to hear him laugh, so you keep a comment about that feeling to yourself. “I suppose I can humor you.” You try to make your words light and playful. It must work because Yoongi laughs again which has you pausing mid-step as you leave the closet with the dress in hand. The falter only lasts a moment, panic on your face quickly washed away. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say the tiny little feeling that made you pause was…butterflies.

An hour later you're in the back of Yoongi's SUV with him, Wenton driving. The house you have with Yoongi is on the backside of the estate property, easily a fifteen-minute drive. It's a one-lane paved road, a driveway really, that snakes through sprawling woods and cuts over a small brook. The stone bridge over the water is short, a simple arch with moss-covered river-rock side rails.

"Father didn't explain what the dinner is for, only that we needed to be there and be presentable," Yoongi explains, chewing the corner of his bottom lip in thought. "I can't imagine it's anything to be too worried about, but keep your wits about you anyhow. As far as I know, all of my brothers will be in attendance." He says brothers, but you know who he's more specifically talking about. The one brother wholly set on seeing you completely broken, if not six feet under.

You hate coming back to the main house. The overly exaggerated monstrosity fits perfectly with the dark and cold persona of The Hitman. Everything is opulent, screaming of wealth too big for any one man to have achieved by gracious means. For you, it also represents a prison. A place you were locked away under a proverbial key for years. It's weird to think that you're just as much a prisoner now as you were then, but still you feel freer than you were even with your parents. Yoongi has given you something you'd never really had before. A goal, a chance, a means to an end...a future of your own making. You just have to get there first.

With your hand tucked into Yoongi's elbow, he escorts you through the front doors and into the hearth room where The Hitman and the other brothers are enjoying a finger of whiskey before dinner. It's hard to suppress the smile that rips at your lips when you catch Miriam's eye. She's a welcomed sight for sure. At least you know you won't be suffering through dinner surrounded by nothing but the men. She gives you a wink before turning to Seokjin and murmuring something you don't catch. He raises an eyebrow at her but lifts a shoulder in a casual gesture of indifference.

"Finally, can we eat now?" Jungkook hasn't changed much since the last you saw him. He's still quite boyish, despite being in his early twenties now. His black hair is coiffed, showing off his smooth forehead and framing his dark eyes.

"Grow up." This comes from a source you're trying to avoid. All the same, though, you can't help but feel the way his dragon eyes sear up and down your form.

The Hitman clears his throat, casting a glare at both Namjoon and Jungkook. "We're still awaiting two more guests." He flicks out his wrist, the gold watch wrapped around it jingling. "They should be arriving any minute now."

As if his words were a summon, there is a resounding knock against the front door. You hear the door open and shoes shuffling in the foyer. A moment later the butler, Mr. Lee, ushers four new individuals into the room.

You're not sure what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn't two young women being shadowed by who you're certain are their fathers. It quickly dawns on you. These must be the new girls, the future wives of Hoseok and Namjoon.

"My friend!" One of the men strides forward to clasp hands with The Hitman. "Good to see you again, sorry we could not be here sooner. You know how fragile women folk can be," he chuckles, gesturing back toward the two women still standing in the doorway.

"Alina, Dasha, come girls," the remaining man practically shoves the women forward, toward The Hitman. "Greet your future papa." The last is stated with a sharp laugh that has them jolting forward.

They both offer murmured greetings, their eyes downcast. They're both fair-skinned with reddish-blond hair, maybe could be mistaken for sisters at first glance. But, you catch differences that tell you otherwise. The man that first strode in, you learn is Ivan, indicates which girl is which. Alina has a button nose and slightly upturned eyes, whereas Dasha has a more pointed nose and chin with thin lips. The other man, Leonid, doesn't say much, choosing to be more like the shadow you first thought him to be.

"Interesting," Yoongi murmurs in your ear, shifting so he's standing just behind you. To anyone else, it probably looks like he's just being affectionate. His hand not holding a glass of whiskey settles on your waist as he leans in a little further. "Bratva princesses. Don't let their demure attitudes fool you, they are trained with a blade from birth and are well versed in the ways of killing. Hoseok and Namjoon think they're getting little playthings, boy will they be surprised."

To hide your surprised smile you turn in Yoongi's arms and press a kiss to his jaw. "A fate they both deserve," you whisper against his skin.

"Ah, this must be the newlyweds!" The loud proclamation startles you, your hands automatically fisting into Yoongi's jacket.

Yoongi just smiles, slipping on his own mask of mock pleasantries. "Ivan, Leonid," he says in greeting, giving them each a nod. He turns you back around and introduces you, offering just your name in turn.

Your hand is scooped up by a big, rough mitt. "A beautiful specimen, my boy, just exquisite," Ivan smiles a Cheshire grin that has you pulling your fingers from his grasp before he can plant a kiss on them. "And a little fire, I like that."

You really want nothing more than to grab Yoongi's half-filled whiskey and toss it in this animal's face, but The Hitman calls for everyone's attention which you're grateful for. "Let us move to the dining room." Just like that, the atmosphere in the room shifts to being less stifling.

As fate would have it, that uncomfortable feeling returns tenfold when you find yourself seated next to Namjoon. Yoongi tried to swap seats with you but one look from Namjoon and you both knew that wouldn't fly without dire consequences.

The Hitman sits at one end of the table, Ivan and Leonid to either side of him. Dasha, Namjoon's intended, sits directly across from you, putting her on Namjoon's right. Alina sits beside Dasha with Hoseok on her other side. The other brothers are dispersed through the remaining seats, Miriam beside Seokjin who's beside Jungkook on the other side of Yoongi. From where she's sitting, you can't properly see nor speak to Miriam and that sours your mood further.

The dining table is covered in a white silk and lace table cloth, fine white porcelain place settings, shiny silverware, and crystal glasses. There is already a feast laid out in the middle, everything from stuffed whole chickens, salads, roasted vegetables, mixed rice dishes, exotic fruits and cheeses to honeyed ham. You avoid the ham, for reasons similar to why you hate snow. For that matter, if you could avoid formal dinners like this for the rest of your life, you'd be just fine with that.

Conversation floats along the table as everyone eats. Ivan and Leonid are loud, obnoxiously so. Their manners are lacking, food dropping from their open mouths as they laugh loudly and speak mid-chew. Time seems to slow down to a stilted parody of passing. The more the men talk, the more you internally cringe. Even the small interactions you have with the sons leave you feeling claustrophobic in a way. Though, you know it's really thanks to the man seated on your right.

Dasha and Alina keep throwing sneers your way. The only comfort you find is when Yoongi occasionally, but deliberately, brushes his shoulder against yours. The intimacy you displayed in the hearth room probably didn't win you any points with Namjoon. It was too close to being what he believes you don't deserve, which is not part of the agreement he has with Yoongi.

With that thought, you're not even sure you can stomach the few bites you've managed to take but then lose your appetite completely when you feel a large palm settle on your bare knee. It's such a startling sensation that you jerk in your seat and rattle the glasses on the table.

"There's plenty of food left, no need to shake the table, girl," Ivan guffaws from down the table, brandishing a whole chicken leg for emphasis. Enough food, sure, if you count the crumbs remaining on most of the platters. The Russians have devoured more food than you think two grown men should be capable of.

Your cheeks are hot as your eyes flick up to meet Namjoons. His fingers dig into your skin painfully. The pressure increases until you can't help but shove back from the table, mumbling to Yoongi that you need to be excused to the ladies' room. Before you can turn and escape, Yoongi grabs your wrist and stops you. "Are you okay?" he asks in a whisper meant only for you.

"Fine, just...need a moment," you whisper back, flicking your eyes to the side toward Namjoon. A knowing look settles on Yoongi's face, he gives you a small nod and releases your hand.

You can hear Yoongi addressing Namjoon in a short, curt tone as you make your way from the table. His words are low enough that you can't hear them, but the inflection is enough for you. You also catch The Hitman announcing cocktails will be served in the adjoining lounge shortly. That should give you enough time to get to the bathroom down the hall and get yourself together before having to show your face again in front of everyone.

Shutting yourself into the half-bath, you internally curse remembering there is no locking mechanism for the door. Not that that would stop anyone who truly wanted to get inside. You turn to the sink and flip on the tap, taking a moment to breathe. This is your first time being in Namjoon's presence since you found out about his intentions for you. To say you're feeling a bit skittish would be putting it lightly. It doesn't help that you know you shouldn't be so carefree with Yoongi, it does nothing to help the situation.

Splashing some water on your face, you resolve that when you go back out there you're going to snuff the little warmth there is between you and Yoongi. If only for the sake of appearances. You know Yoongi will understand and not hold it against you. He's supposed to be your worst nightmare, after all.

Like a scene from a horror film, just as you’re patting your face dry with a clean towel from under the sink, the door snaps open. “You ought to know better than to put yourself in a position to be alone with me, little mouse.”

Your mouth opens to yell, “Yoon-.” But he’s on you and slaps a hand over your mouth before it can make much of a difference. Namjoon pins you against the sink pedestal, the backs of your thighs biting hard into the lip of the sink as you're forced up onto your toes by his sheer body mass.

“Yoongi is busy right now, courtesy of our father,” he sneers, the words curling his upper lip into a snarl. “It’s just you and me right now. Even if you did scream for help, do you really think someone would come to save you?” Your frantic eyes dart around the bathroom, looking for something you might be able to use as leverage to get him off. “Now, I’m going to take my hand away, scream if you want…but if you know what’s good for you, you’ll choose to just listen instead.”

Like a physical manifestation, the weight of his words settles on your chest, constricting your ability to breathe. All you can do is nod slightly behind his hand. A moment later he slides his hand from covering your mouth to cradling your jaw. “What do you want?” The words leave you in a rasp.

“Your skin is looking better. Those bruises have faded as if they were never there.” He uses the hand on your jaw to tilt your head from side to side, examining your neck. Your skin flushes, a mix of anger and fear making your heart frantically beat in your chest. “Did you enjoy it, the way his hands wrapped around your throat, squeezing until the dainty tissue beneath your skin was swollen with blood enough to leave a mark?” A shudder ripples through you, which he takes as an answer enough. “You did, didn’t you? I definitely enjoyed seeing it, those pictures he sent me are beautiful, a work of art. I wonder if we can recreate them, what do you think?”

Panic surges, making your body go stiff. You subconsciously ease back from him, practically climbing onto the sink to get as far away from him as possible. When Yoongi returned from Warsaw, he told you about his run-in with Namjoon and how he wanted proof that Yoongi was going to make up for his time away. You spent an entire evening staging it, digging through boxes of makeup and special effects tools. In the end, Yoongi snapped mid-struggle pictures of you. It was a dance, a choreography of push and pull. It reminded you so much of what happened at the cabin, Yoongi going to such lengths to make it seem like he’s a monster when in reality he’s just an excellent actor.

The pictures were quite breathtaking, in a haunting and gut-churning way. The tears were real, the fear evident on your face. You’re a good actor, too. Hand-shaped bruises littered your throat, reddened palm prints scattered over your cheeks, thighs, and upper arms. You even thought the pictures looked real. Yoongi pretended to attack you, but you screamed like it was real. It felt real, like a glimpse into what your life would be like if he was actually that monster he pretended to be for the last year. He apologized afterward, profusely.

“Please don’t,” you gasp, shoving your hands against his chest. “Yoongi will be so mad.” You don’t have to finesse the fear that stutters your words, the fear is definitely real. You’re face to face with an actual monster and he’s not into acting.

“Mmm, the wrath of my brother is a small thing, compared to the fun we could have, little mouse.” His lips crash into yours, his teeth too harsh against your unwilling mouth. One hand fists into your hair and the other maintains its stern grip on your jaw. You flail, swatting and smacking his chest and the sides of his face. Your feet kick wildly, you feel the toe of your heel connect with his shin more than once, but nothing seems to thwart him. Namjoon’s aggression is predatory and you’re a helpless little mouse just like he said.

Copper warmth bursts on your tongue as his teeth lash your bottom lip. You do scream now, letting it loose as if your life depends on it. It’s swallowed by his mouth, muffled and comes out more like a pathetic yell. The hand on your jaw drops to your throat, big enough for it to fit perfectly between his thumb and fingers. He begins to squeeze, focusing the pressure on the arteries on either side of your neck. Your vision almost instantly wanes, black spots dotting the edges. This is it, you think, this is how it ends. Namjoon finally gets his way.

His mouth is still on yours, his tongue lapping up the blood still leaking from your now busted bottom lip. Just as your eyes are fluttering shut from lack of blood flow, his presence is ripped away. Tendrils of hair are ripped out from the root, still caught around his fingers. Your bottom lip is once again thrashed with his teeth as they leave your mouth. The pain of his fingers scratching along your throat is just another blip on the scale at this point. It might as well be a lover's caress compared to the rawness powering down your throat now that you’re sucking in harsh gasps of air.

“I will kill you!” Yoongi’s roar is emphasized by Namjoon’s body crashing into the far wall of the bathroom.

Your body slumps back against the mirror, hands feebly scrambling on the sink in an attempt to hold yourself up. Everything is still hazy but you blink a few times and clearly see the moment Namjoon begins to laugh like a maniac. He throws his head back, howling with mirth. “Oh, big brother,” he wheezes between laughs, “I was just having some fun.

“Touch her again and see what happens,” Yoongi barks, his chest heaving with restrained violence. “You may be my brother, Namjoon, but I’ll forget that well enough if you touch what’s mine again.” The possessiveness of Yoongi’s words should scare you. Instead, you feel a wave of rightfulness settle in your bones. It’s a deep feeling, like a bottomless ocean. Both full of unknown things that scare you but also a calming comfort you can float adrift in.

Namjoon rights himself, absently brushing his hands over his suit jacket. “Don’t be so touchy, Yoongi.” That predatory gleam replaces the humor with his next words. “Best tighten that leash before you find your bitch snatched up by a new owner.” He shoves open the bathroom door and disappears down the hall without a backward glance.

“Are you okay?” Yoongi turns to you, cupping your cheeks in his hands. “What am I saying? Of course you’re not okay. Fucking bastard,” he curses, trailing his hands down your neck, checking to see what damage has been done.

“Can we go home?” you whisper, choking back the sob lodged in your throat.

Yoongi wraps an arm around you, helping you down off the sink. “Of course. Of course, we can.”

You don’t even say goodbye to anyone, Yoongi simply walks you out the front door where Wenton is leaning against the front of the SUV scrolling through his phone. Wenton doesn’t ask any questions, just pockets his phone and opens the back door for you and Yoongi. Thirty minutes later, you’re dressed down in a tank top and under the duvet in bed. Yoongi lays next to you on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

“Thank you.” You reach out and run your fingers over his bare shoulder.

He turns his head, his eyes meeting yours. His brow is pinched, lips a thin line. “You shouldn’t have to thank me, it shouldn’t have happened to begin with. I should have known as soon as Father asked me to retrieve something from his office and you were still gone to the restroom that Namjoon would take the opportunity to pounce. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You shake your head. “I shouldn’t have run away at dinner as I did, it was stupid to have even put myself in a position like that.”

“What did he do, exactly? What made you need to step away?”

A breath leaves you in a huff as you think back to dinner. “I don’t even know if it was so much Namjoon. I mean, yes, he put his hand on my knee under the table and that sent me over the edge. But, the whole night seemed like one big game of cat and mouse. Those Russians, are they actually that brutish and pig-like? Their manners…or lack of, just everything put me so off-kilter. Not to mention I may have been internally freaking out about how we were in the hearth room. I didn’t mean to be so intimate like that, so close. I didn’t even consider what it would do to Namjoon, to see us acting like a perfectly normal married couple.” The words finally taper off, your flood of emotions having fueled the deluge of thoughts aloud.

“Namjoon is a problem we’ll take care of, a problem we’re working to solve. It shouldn’t be much longer until we find some information we can use, the information we need. In the meantime, I have a plan B in the works that would take us away from here even if we don’t find what we need to get him off our backs. We can just disappear. It won’t be easy, nor fun in the beginning, but it could work. As for the Russians,” he grimaces, “it was all a show. They wanted to push buttons, be as disruptive as possible to see how Father would react. They were nothing like that in Warsaw. Everything is just a play for power, seeing who will break first.”

That’s what scares you, though. Breaking first. 💔💔💔

It’s one night, several months later, that you finally see the first bit of light at the end of the tunnel. You’re cross-referencing some of the notes you’ve been making from the accounts and logs Yoongi provided you with. He’s sitting beside you at the dining table, working on his own spreadsheet of numbers, something for the offshore accounts he’s set up in case of plan B.

“Marcus Kingston, you know that name, right?” you ask Yoongi, tapping your green highlighter against the list of transactions you’re looking at.

“Marcus Kingston, like ‘Kingston & Ruso’, Marcus Kingston? He’s Father’s criminal defense attorney. Why?” He pauses in his work, bringing his attention to you. Yoongi’s dark eyes are accentuated behind his black-framed glasses, an accessory you secretly love seeing him wear. He’s gotten a haircut in the last six months, but it’s still long enough to brush the collar of his t-shirt. It’s rare to see him out of a suit, but you have a special place in your mind where you file away images of him in casual wear like he is now. The black sweatpants and white t-shirt shouldn’t be as attractive as they are. For that matter, Yoongi himself should be one of the last people you find yourself pining after…but, life has a funny way with things like that sometimes. You could blame the forced proximity on the way your feelings for him have kindled over the months, but you’re done lying to yourself…mostly.

You clear your throat, bringing your attention away from the way his hair slightly curls around his ears and back to the datasheet. “I almost missed it, and it might honestly be nothing, but there is an account transaction here that seems a little weird.” You angle the paper so Yoongi can see where you’re pointing. “I’m cross-referencing the transactions, accounting for repeat charges. Here, Kingston & Ruso, charges for the embezzlement case from a few years ago. I’ve traced the same type of transactions back over the entire eight years you’ve had me looking into. But, there is one here,” you grab the other paper you were using to reference, “these are transactions from just over seven years ago. Five of them. I thought it was the same, Kingston & Ruso, but it’s Kingston Co. IS. It’s different.”

“Huh.” Yoongi pulls the papers closer, his finger sliding down the papers and stopping at each transaction you highlighted. “Kingston Co. IS, that’s weird.” He turns to his laptop, pulling up a private web browser. Yoongi has the entire house outfitted with what you consider secret network spy things. An entire internet server that he controls, no way outside sources can get in, or so he assures you. In a few keystrokes, search results are scrolling on the screen. “Kingston Co. IS, looks like Marcus Kingston also has his own investigative services company.”

“Like a P.I.?” you ask. “Someone who digs up dirt or follows people around, catching cheating spouses and shit like that?”

The words are out of your mouth before you even connect the dots with what they could truly mean. Yoongi glances at you and you can see the cogs turning in his eyes, the thoughts tumbling around while he mulls over what you just said.

“Yeah, exactly like that,” he finally says. “You don’t think…it couldn’t possibly be…” His words trail off, not wanting to complete those questions aloud.

It’s definitely a probability you want to latch on to. If The Hitman was using Kingston to investigate Netty, if The Hitman found out about her and your father…well. “Yoongi, I’m going to ask you a very hard question and you need to really think about it and give me a straight answer, okay?”

You can see the way his shoulders tense like he’s readying himself for a blow. “Okay.”

“Your father said your mother’s death was an accident, right?”

It has the effect you knew it would. Yoongi’s features cloud over, a thundercloud rolling in that crackles with lightning. “Are you actually insinuating…,” the heat in his words dies abruptly. “My father,” he states simply, his tone devoid of all emotion. “We didn’t see the body…just the blood. A fall down the stairs, he said it was an accident. Too much blood for an accident,” he mutters that last part, squeezing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “But, Namjoon found the suicide note in Tokyo, that’s not something that could just be explained away as an accident.”

“Yoongi,” you place a hand on his shoulder, hoping to ease the next words out of your mouth, “suicide notes can be coerced, written under duress or threat. We can’t rule anything out at this point, especially with this.” You gesture with your other hand to the account sheets in front of him.

“You’re right,” he concedes. “You’re seeing this much more clearly than I am.” Much to your dismay, you feel the tremble of his shoulder under your hand and can hear the choked emotion in his admission. He really did love his mom and this potential is like a swift kick in the gut.

“Come on, let’s go lay down, we can look more at this tomorrow when we’ve both got fresh eyes.” You stand from the table, pulling him up with you and leading him down the hall into the master bedroom.

Yoongi doesn't protest when you tug off his shirt and push down his sweatpants, leaving him only in a pair of tight black boxer briefs. Being nearly naked around one another has become part of the routine. You don't mind it, if anything you sometimes find yourself admiring his body. Despite the plethora of scars covering his body and the defined muscles, there is still a softness to his edges that gives you hope you won't be cut too deeply by him in the end.

Maybe it's this realization that leads you to do what you did next. But, you suddenly find yourself pressing your lips to his. He doesn't react at first, still caught up in his own thoughts. Though, as soon as he realizes what you're doing he jerks back like you've slapped him. "That...that was," his hand flies up to his mouth, fingers pressing where your lips just were.

Our first kiss. Your mind fills in the words he doesn't speak. Weird, right? In all the years you've been here, in the months you've been married, even including your wedding day, not a single time have you ever kissed each other on the mouth. It seemed far too intimate, too personal and like it would be a step in the wrong direction.

"I'm sorry!" You fumble back a step, hands clenching into your shirt. "I wasn't, that didn't, I shouldn't ha-." You don't get to finish your apology or explanation. Yoongi steps forward and presses his lips to yours so fiercely that it steals your breath. For a moment you're still on the verge of panicking but the sure movements of his lips working against yours melts any remaining uncertainty. He wants this just as much as you do.

Your hands are everywhere. They map across his chest, back, up his neck, and through his hair. His body responds to each sweep of your hands, small pleasured grunts muffling against your lips. Yoongi is a little more hesitant in his exploration of your body. His touches are light and feathered, like he's worried it might be too much and that he's crossing a line.

His lips taste faintly of the whiskey he had earlier. It's an earthy, spicy flavor that has you seeking more, probing the seam of his lips with your tongue. Yoongi's lips part for you, welcoming the slide of your tongue against his. Goosebumps break out along your sides as his hands slip under the hem of your shirt and slide along your ribs. "Is this okay?" he asks, his tongue leaving yours to help form the words against your lips.

"Mhm," you hum, capturing his tongue with your teeth and pulling it between your lips again.

This is a different kind of dance that you find yourself falling into rhythm with. Previously, it had always been about the step-by-step orchestration of well-placed sways and stiff dips. A parody of intimacy with a mask of hate you both shared. The mask has been slipping, proven all the more by the small misstep at dinner with the Russians all those months ago. Your dance is no longer a blunder of uncertainty. Now, it's all fluid motion filled with an intensity that radiates through your entire form.

Yoongi breaks away from the kiss, sucking in deep breaths of air. His fingers dig into the skin of your hips as he tries to put a little space between your bodies. With one of your hands buried in his hair, he doesn't get very far. "Let's slow down," he pants. "I don't want you to think that this is...I'm not taking advantage of you. Don't feel obligated, please." You can see the uncertainty warring on his face. It's prominent in the pinch of his brow and how he tongues the corner of his mouth. You watch the tip of his tongue slide along the crease of his kiss-swollen lips, awestruck by the fact you've waited so long to actually kiss him.

"I don't feel obligated," you blurt, snapping your eyes up to his and away from his hypnotic tongue. "I-I'm the one that kissed you."

His brow smooths out slowly, the corner of his mouth tugging up slightly. "You did."

"If you're not certain about this," you begin, retracting your hand from his hair and letting it fall to his shoulder instead, "it's okay, I understand. Things are...weird, and I get it. We can both walk away now and promise it won't change anything. We'll still be in this together, regardless if we're all in or not."

The look in his eyes softens, like melted chocolate on a warm day. "I've been certain about this for a long time," he confesses. "A very, very long time." The distance between you diminishes, his lips brush against yours once, twice, a third time. "I want to be all in."

"I want that, too."

There should be some sort of self-restraint award given for how patient you are. As much as you want to rip off all of your clothes and jump him, you let Yoongi take his time in undressing you. His hands are still gentle, the rough calluses on his palms are soothing in their own way. You've never really paid attention to just how masculine his hands are. Prominent knuckles with just a dusting of hair, slender fingers with blunt tips and trimmed nails, palms that could easily cover your entire face or wrap around your throat with ease...not that you're thinking about either of those things.

Your clothes form a pile beside you, until you're standing there in even less than Yoongi. This is quickly rectified when you slip your thumbs into the waistband of his boxer briefs and push them down his thighs. They could just drop, once you have them to his knees, to puddle around his feet. But, you follow them down all the way, finding yourself on your knees before him, helping him step out of them and adding them to the pile.

"If you put your lips around my dick, I don't know how long I can last," he warns, watching you eye the bobbing length of it. Sweat is beading at his temples, his thighs trembling under your hands where they rest against him for support.

It's nice to see him a little unhinged, out of control. It's even better knowing you're the one making him that way. The sexual chemistry has always been undeniable between the two of you. The swap in power, however, is completely new. Previously, Yoongi has been the one in charge, whether it was the blowjob behind the garden shed or the intense manhandling on the patio at your reception dinner. Now, though, you have the power. With just a slow flick of your tongue, you have him gasping and jerking in your hold. It feels good. Really good.

You chuckle, letting the huffs of your breath play over his glistening cockhead. "That's okay, as long as you're up for a round two." Sliding a hand across his thigh, you slip your fingers around his base with a light squeeze.

"Fuck, woman, you can't say shit like that unless you really are looking to get a mouthful," he groans, his hips jerking in your hold again. "I'm not kidding, it's been years since I’ve had a female in my bed and jerking off can only do so much for a guy."

Years? You glance up at him through your lashes. Surely he has been laid sometime over the last few years, it's not like you expected him to be virtuous. That's just part of the lifestyle you're married to, it's par for the course with these kinds of men. Though, you have come to learn Yoongi isn't exactly like most mafia types.

"Yoongi, how long has it been?" you're asking before you can think better of it, not truly wanting to know the answer you realize.

He puffs out his cheeks. "Uh, well, I don't know. If you don’t count what we’ve done…since I was a teenager I guess?"

That...that surprises you. But, it also makes you feel something flutter low in your belly. "Really? All this time, you've never...with someone else?"

"Never. It didn't feel right, regardless of what might have been expected of me," he explains, his lips twisting to the side a little.

You let that simmer for a minute, really sink in. Years. It's been years. "Tell me what you like," you offer, giving his cock another slow flick of your tongue. It had gone half-hard with the awkwardness of the conversation, but quickly fills back out with your attention.

"What I like?" he groans, slipping a hand into your hair. "I-well, I don't know."

You take him into your mouth, savoring the feel of his velvety skin sliding along your tongue. Pulling back, he pops from between your lips with a satisfying sound. "What kind of porn do you watch?" you question before taking him into your mouth again, swirling your tongue along the crown before letting him slide deeper.

"Uh," a small moan emits from him instead of words. He swallows hard, eyes glued to where he disappears between your lips. "Cum. Um, I like cum p-play. Creampies, er, breeding. Maybe, uh," he pauses to suck in a stuttering breath, "biting, ropes...and," he mutters a word you don't catch.

Hollowing out your cheeks you suck as you slowly pull off him again. The salty punch of his precum coats your tongue, a pungent yet not unpleasant taste. "What was that last part?" you ask, working him over with your hand a few times, watching as more clear viscous liquid gathers at the tip of his length.

"Knives," he grunts out in a rush, hips canting forward as you rub your thumb over the crown of his cock, smearing the beaded moisture there.

All the attention you're giving him has an ache of your own settling between your thighs. Who would have known that power makes you hot under the skin? "We can try those things, if you want."

"What? Really?"

You place a soft kiss on his crown. "Sure. I just have one request," you say as you stand up, hand still wrapped around him moving in lazy strokes.

"Anything," he pants. "Anything you want, it's yours."

"If at any point I want to stop, we stop. No questions asked, you stop and it's done." He looks at you like you're crazy, because of course he'd stop. "That's not my request, just a prelude statement. What I want is...for you to not hold back. Don't treat me like I'm going to break. I want this to be real, as real as it can get. I want to see what's under your mask, I want to see who you really are. Deal?"

Yoongi's expression is somber, a delicate mix of serious and tender. "I can do that for you. But, I won't hurt you, not like...before. This is different, I only want to bring you pleasure."

"There can be pleasure in pain," you murmur before pressing your lips to his.

He walks you backward until the backs of your thighs hit the edge of the mattress. Your lips never lose connection, they don't stop working in tandem with his. Yoongi follows you up the bed, only stopping when you're comfortable in the middle of the large space. "Let me worship you," he says with a groan. His hands cover your body, being just as delicate as before but with a renewed sense of certainty. With the right amount of tongue and teeth, he trails open-mouthed kisses down your jaw, neck, and over your collarbone.

"Oh," you gasp. Electric shocks rock through your body as Yoongi's tongue swirls around one of your nipples. "Oh, wow." Your back arches off the mattress, pushing your breast further into his mouth. It's like your nipple is connected directly to the apex between your thighs. He moves his head and gives the same attention to your other nipple, eliciting a startling moan from you when the sensation travels down your spine and right into your clit.

Teeth press into your sensitive skin as Yoongi bites down softly. One of your hands grips the long strands of his hair, pressing him more firmly against you. He growls in response, sinking his teeth into your flesh with more vigor. You cry out, but the sharp pain ebbs as he laves his tongue over the wreath of marks left behind by his teeth. "I could play with your tits all night. They're perfect and they hold my bite marks so well." His praise is accompanied by another, shorter, nip to your other breast.

The blunt tips of his fingers take over when his lips leave to trail down your stomach. They pinch and tweak, rolling your pebbled peaks with just the right amount of pain to elicit the pleasure surge down your spine again. You're just tilting your head up to look down at him, watching his descent down your body, when your head snaps back as he presses an open-mouthed kiss right on your already aching clit. "Holy fucking hell," you bite back a further spiel of curses, catching your bottom lip between your teeth instead, as he delves between your folds with his tongue. "That should be illegal." The words come out from between your teeth, barely coherent.

It's an entirely new sensation, Yoongi's mouth exploring every inch between your thighs. He has you keening, gripping the bed sheets, and flexing muscles you didn't know you had. Between one hand continuing to fondle your breast and the other sneaking below his chin to tease your weeping entrance, along with his tongue and lips and their never-ending assault on your clit, you quickly find yourself on the verge of a sweltering orgasm.

"You're doing so good," he utters against you, the vibrations of his voice like another jolt to your system. "I can feel the way your body is tensing, just let go, cum for me."

And, so you do. It's like a too-tight guitar string snapping. You're wound so tight the first wave feels like a tsunami crashing into shore, devastating all in its path. "Fuck me!" you cry out, eyes squeezed shut so tight that pops of color dance behind your lids. Yoongi doesn't relent, he continues flicking, licking, and sucking as your body washes through another cresting wave. You're faintly aware of the obscenely wet sounds coming from between your thighs, but you're too high to really care.

Your body trembles as you finally begin the wind-down, jerking from the overstimulation coming from Yoongi's mouth still latched onto your swollen clit. You give a tug on his hair, eyes catching his and pleading for peace as your hips try to shy away from him. Finally, with one last flat-tongued lick he pulls away. The entire lower half of his face glistens in the low light of the bedroom. "Did you enjoy that?" he asks, a coy grin curling his reddened lips.

"We'll definitely be doing that again," you pant, tugging his hair again to try and get him to move up and over you. "I think...I think I want something else now, though." You give him a pointed look as he follows your lead, allowing you to guide him until his hips are nestled between your spread thighs. There is no mistaking the throbbing length of his erection now pressed firmly against you. The thick shaft nestles between your slick lips and presses into your still aching clit.

"Are you sure about this?" There is a small crease between his brows, his eyes flicking back and forth between yours, looking for any sign that things have gone too far.

You smooth a thumb between his brows, smiling as the crease disappears. "I'm sure. This is my choice and I want this with you...if you want me, too."

He rests on his elbows, his large hands coming up to cup along your jaw. "I do want you. More than anything." You can see the truth in his eyes, plainly written right before you. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something more but you see the indecision flash through those truth-filled eyes before he snaps his mouth shut and presses his lips to yours.

It starts out slow, Yoongi moving his body against yours. Just the slide of his cock along your folds has you panting for more, seeking a rougher play of your tongue with his. You take out your frustrations on his lips, biting and sucking them, but he doesn't give in just yet. "Please, Yoongi," you breathe against his lips. "I want you. Please."

Maybe you should have resorted to begging sooner. It seems to break his resolve. He snakes a hand between your sweat-slick bodies to take a firm hold on his cock. "I'll go slow, tell me to stop if you need to," he instructs between your frantic, wet kisses.

"Just shut up and fu-." Your demand cuts off in a strangled, garbled moan as he notches his cock against your entrance and begins to push in. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," you sputter out soft pleas with each additional inch.

There is strain on Yoongi's face, his lips gone slack. Neither of you deigns to worry about kissing right now. "This might hurt," he grunts, his hips catching slightly with resistance. There is a pinch followed by a bloom of heat and pain that lances straight into your lower belly. "Are you okay?" he asks, eyes wide and searching your face.

"Fine," you manage to sound halfway believable. "Just keep going. It'll feel better if you keep going, right?" His hips start to retreat for a moment before your fingers dig into the meat of his ass and keep him from pulling out. "I won't break. Remember what I want."

His mouth descends on yours again. A frenzy of distraction as he pushes further in, easing his way until he's finally sheathed to the hilt. His body is warm against yours. Slowly, the pain recedes and you're left with an indescribably full feeling. Then he begins to withdraw, bringing back the faintest whisper of pain that's dwarfed by a zing of pleasure when one of his thumbs finds your clit.

"You're so beautiful," Yoongi whispers, breaking away from the kiss to stare down at you. He leans back, holding himself up with one of his hands pressed to the bed beside your face. "The way your body rolls with mine," his eyes dip lower, "the way your tits bounce every time I fuck my cock into you. Look at you, taking me like you were made for it." His eyes continue down your body, finally locking on where he's sinking into you over and over.

You follow his gaze, mesmerized by the way his hips move, barely registering how your hips bump up to meet him on each thrust. There is no more pain, your body feeling nothing but a cresting pleasure. The insistent attention from his thumb against your bundle of nerves, the way his cockhead rubs against a spot inside just right, has you barreling toward another dive into the abyss.

"I'm going to cum," you whimper, hands sliding up his back and digging into the muscles of his shoulders. His name leaves your lips with a shuddering moan that you feel all the way down to your toes as they curl against the sheets.

Yoongi grinds his hips against yours, working himself against your sensitive inner walls that pulse around him. "That's it, princess, you're such a good girl." His words are another drip of serotonin, straight to your cerebral cortex.

You make a pleased sound in the back of your throat, what's sure to be a dopey smile plastered on your face. "That was...wow." Little shock waves still ripple through your body as Yoongi continues a sensual roll of his hips. "We'll add that to the do-again-list, too."

He chuckles, nuzzles against your neck and places a kiss below your ear. "I can support that." His hips slow to a stop, still pressed firmly against you. "Still up for being a little daring?"

"Anything, as long as you make me cum like that again." You can't believe you just said that. It's far too bold a statement coming from you. There were chinks in your armor before, but now you feel wholly exposed, no armor to speak of at all. It's exhilarating...freeing.

You groan as Yoongi slides out of you, sitting back on his heels. This gives you your first full view of his slick erection as it slaps messily against his stomach, leaving smears of your arousal across the subtle plane of his abs. It's a wonder how it even fit inside. "Like what you see?" His question is full of cocky snark, having caught you staring.

"So what if I do? You are my husband, I should be allowed to admire what's mine." There is just a bit of sass to your reply that makes his grin pull wider.

"Yours, hmm? Yeah, I guess I am," he concedes with a wink. "Keep that in mind with what we're about to do next."

Needless to say, you're thoroughly curious now. Yoongi shifts on the bed, reaching over to his bedside table and pulling open the drawer. When he leans back, settling between your thighs once more, he has two objects in his hand. One, the same pocket knife he had at the cabin, and the other, a discarded tie he must have grabbed from the floor beside the bed.

With a short intake of breath, you decide to throw all inhibitions and doubt out the window. You truly do trust Yoongi. "Do your worst," you challenge, holding your hands up in surrender.

For the first time since you entered the bedroom, you see bold lust shining in his eyes. His touch is no longer delicate or soft. Instead, it burns with passion and unrestrained need. He gathers your wrists in one hand, his large palms easily keeping them pinched together. With his other hand, he begins to wrap the purple silk tie, weaving it intricately between your forearms until both of your wrists are confined side by side.

He pushes your arms above your head, firmly planting your hands against the pillows. "Keep these here or you'll be punished."

You raise an eyebrow at that, wondering what sort of punishment you might incur if you disobey him. For a moment, you're thrust back to a year ago. The flicker of a monster that isn't a monster flashes before you. But, no, this Yoongi isn't like that. This might be a different side of him, but it's nothing like it was then. He's a safe space. You're safe.

Your momentary inner turmoil must go unnoticed, Yoongi's attention focused on extruding the blade of his pocket knife. "It's the same one," you muse, your words finally drawing his attention.

"It was a gift from my mother, the first and last gift I ever received...until I got you," he adds with a soft smile. "I won't use it if you really don't want me to," he whispers, his eyes flicking between the tip of the knife and your face.

That knife signifies more than just a kink for you. It's a turning point in your relationship with Yoongi. A reminder of what happened at the cabin, what he was willing to do to ensure your safety from a monster you weren't even aware was lurking in the dark waiting to pounce on you.

Before you realize what you're doing, your hands are lifting from the pillow, intent on touching him to soothe any worries. His eyebrows snap up in surprise before he tugs his bottom lip between his teeth. "Ah ah, what are you doing? Already disobeying me it seems."

Your hands instantly drop back to the pillow, your brow furrowing and your lips pouting slightly. "That's not fair, I was only going to try and comfort you. Let you know it was okay to use the knife...that I want it."

With your words, his cock bobs against his stomach and his pupils blow even wider if that's possible. "I'm still going to have to punish you, princess." A flick of his wrist brings the knife point down, aimed right at your right breast. "Have you ever thought about getting these pierced?" he questions softly, grazing the tight bud of your nipple with the tip of the blade. It's not enough to hurt, but the sensation has you mewling all the same.

"W-would you like that?" you ask in turn, watching as he maneuvers the blade and glides it over your other nipple.

One of his shoulders kicks up in a nonchalant way. "Maybe." He presses the knife flat along your ribs, the hilt resting on your hip and the point barely a whisper against the underside of your breast as it heaves with your panting breaths. Yoongi shifts forward on his knees, pressing his thighs to the backsides of yours. His free hand comes up between your thighs, fingers trailing through your still-wet folds. "I'm going to fuck you again now and I won't be gentle about it." His eyes bore into yours. "This is my pussy," he accentuates his words with a quick slap against your now throbbing clit.

"Holy fuck," you wheeze, catching yourself before your hands lift off the pillow again.

All it takes is a shift of his hips and he's sliding back in. There is a slight intrusive pain with the stretch, but it's quickly replaced with a burning ache from how fast and hard his hips are pistoning forward. Your whole body rocks with each thrust, the air siphoned right from your lungs as it escapes in a cascade of moans.

His gaze is zeroed in on the knife and how it presses into your skin. You can feel the cool metal and smooth bone hilt with stark clarity, hyper-aware of how close the underside of your breast comes to the sharp point each time your body bounces. Yoongi's other hand grips your hip, holding you in place so you don't slide away with his relentless pounding.

The knife begins to migrate, moving slowly up through the valley between your breasts until it rests just in the hollow of your throat. You can feel the way your heart hammers against your ribcage, like it's frantic to get away from the glinting blade. "Your skin looks so good under my blade," he murmurs, the praise hooked with a groan. "So soft, so delicate...so easy to bleed. Fuck." The curse is a growl as he snaps his hips forward and grinds against you before pulling back just to snap forward again. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this, wanted you." The knife clatters to the floor, Yoongi having tossed it to the side. "I've needed you, needed this," his words continue to tumble out as he drops his body down against yours, arms sliding under you to hold you to him. His hips still work relentlessly, achieving a deeper stroke from this angle. In just a few thrusts, you're riding the edge of another orgasm.

"It feels so good," you whine, undulating your hips in time with his, seeking the release your body so readily craves.

Yoongi moans into your chest, pressing his sweaty forehead to your shoulder. "God, I fucking...fuck me, princess, I fucking love you."

His confession rolls through you, his own tsunami that batters against your desolate shore. It's torrential, the resulting explosion. You feel the instant surge of warmth as Yoongi begins to cum, followed by the aching pulse of your own release as if greedily sucking him in.

You both lay there for a long time. Content to just bask in the afterglow, heedless of the mess oozing from around Yoongi as he slowly softens inside you. He doesn't withdraw, just gathers you in his arms and rolls to his side. His arms cradle you against his chest, your legs intertwined with his.

You fall asleep like this, a mess of fluids and emotions. It's tempting to question him, to find out if that was a confession fueled by the passion of the moment or if it was a statement of fact. Either way, you're not sure you want to know the answer...not sure you could survive the answer. Because, in the end, you don't know if you'll get to keep him. And that's what you're now realizing you really want. Him, just him. 💔💔💔

In the morning, you're both back at the dining table. Thoughts of last night are put on the back burner for now. Yoongi has a special program pulled up, attempting to hack into Marcus Kingston's company databases. When you asked him if he was trying to dig into the investigative services company, he casually informed you he was actually going for both. He wants access to his attorney files just as much as he wants access to the investigation side.

"Isn't that illegal?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "Like, super illegal...hacking into court documents, lawyer-client privacy and all that?"

He just laughs. "You realize all of this is illegal, right? Everything I do is...well, mostly."

Fair point. Sometimes it's hard to see the world through a lens that isn't inherently morally gray any longer. The sense between right and wrong has been skewed over the years of living with a literal organized crime syndicate. Granted, you don't get to see much of it firsthand, but you don't need to in order to know what happens. During your time at the estate, you were subjected to more blood-curdling screams and gunfire than any typical action or horror movie contained. You suppose you've become desensitized to it. Well, with the exception of the occasional time Yoongi comes home with a new stab or bullet wound. Warsaw was only the first over the last six months. He works regularly for his father, coming home battered and bruised just as much as not.

"So, how long will this take? Are you looking for anything in particular?" Decaf coffee might seem counterproductive to most, but Yoongi enjoys it and it's been growing on you. You take a tentative sip of the hot liquid, relishing the bloom of the slightly sweet coffee creamer on your tongue. He drinks it black, which is fine, just not for you.

He nods to his cup when you hold up the decanter sitting on the table after setting your own cup back down. "Think of it like pressing control F on a keyboard, I'm just searching through the files using keywords. Anything that's triggered will be grabbed and put into a file for me," he explains as you pour him more coffee.

"Wait, searching, as in actively? You're already in?"

He chuckles, giving you a warm smile that crinkles his eyes behind his glasses. "Don't be too impressed. Kingston is an idiot, his firewall infrastructure was just begging for me to tear it down. I was able to slip in completely undetected. We should have enough data to start reviewing in maybe an hour or so, I imagine."

You're still a bit bewildered over the whole thing, watching Yoongi expertly handle his technology. "How did you manage all of this anyway? The network, the ability to hack," you ask, exaggerating the last word in a stage whisper.

His lips purse out. He rolls them between his teeth before they pop back out with an audible sound. "Well, this isn't exactly the life I wanted for myself, all things considered. When I was adopted from Mathers Home For Boys, I thought maybe the biggest obstacle I'd face was whether I wanted a golden retriever or a cocker spaniel to run around in the white picket fence I surely thought Netty and The Hitman had." A lopsided grin tugs his lips to the side, the movement catching your eye and for a moment you're sucked back into last night. Your first real kiss. "But, as we both know, that wasn't the case." You're pulled from the memory as he continues, "When I realized what was in store for me, I decided I needed to start making an escape plan. Now, that's not exactly something that can just happen overnight. I had to be smart about it, I learned the ways of my father and then used them against him."

"Used them against him?" you question when he pauses.

Yoongi taps a few keys on his keyboard before turning back to you. "His mannerisms, the nuisances and tics for how he operates business. I needed to know what he would notice, how much attention he paid to me, and whether I could get away with doing something behind his back. So, after a few years, I finally had what I needed and started building my escape arsenal." He shrugs like what he's about to say is no big deal. "In order to escape, I knew I'd probably have to disappear...completely. Die without dying, y'know? Become a ghost. I needed a way to make that happen. The easiest way for someone to disappear is through technology. We're such a connected world, that it's impossible to not be somewhere online...even if it's not of your own volition. Maybe you've been caught on a security camera somewhere, or are in the background of a random selfie you didn't know was being taken. Either way, unless you live in the middle of nowhere, it's improbable that you're not somewhere online, which means you can be found using the right kind of means."

"You make all that sound so much scarier than I would imagine it being," you joke, but a part of you feels a bit uneasy about it. It has you thinking about the possibilities. You know you're online, your now deactivated social media pages are proof enough. But, the other parts, the small details...background images, security cameras, those aren't things you think anyone thinks about really.

Yoongi smiles. He reaches up and smooths a thumb over lip where you didn't realize it was caught between your teeth. "Don't worry. That's what all of this is for," he gestures to the computer setup, "I can make both of us disappear with just a few clicks of my mouse."

"Really? That easy?" Your heart pounds a little at the possibility. It suddenly morphs into an idea. Why not do that now? Why waste time trying to placate Namjoon and squirrel yourselves into positions that are uncomfortable?

A snorted laugh disrupts the tumble of your questioning thoughts. "No. It's not really that simple. I know what you're thinking, trust me, if I could click away our worries like that I would have done it long ago." His expression turns serious, the humor fading from his eyes. "When I say die without dying, I mean it. We'd both be dead to the world, but it also means staying dead...for the rest of our lives. We wouldn't be able to live normal lives, we couldn't have friends over for cocktails and a barbecue. No dog in the backyard, probably not even a kid to dote on...we'd be off the grid, remote. Even then, we'd have to be self-sufficient to the point of near madness. That's not a life I would thrust upon you unless it was the absolute last, and I mean last, option."

More things you hadn't considered. Of course that's how life would have to be. The Hitman, you know, has connections worldwide. Deep connections that span further into more minuscule networks than you can even fathom. Being an organized crime boss doesn't just afford one a life of luxury, it also comes with the power of knowledge. Which is far more useful of a weapon than any munition could ever hope to be.

You mull this over, finally seeing a little bit behind the veil Yoongi has constructed. He's smart, smarter than you think you'd given him credit for. He's thought of everything. "So, last option. If it comes to that, though, how will I know? What will happen?"

"If that happens. We run. I won't go into the details right now, it's better you don't know...just in case." Yoongi turns in his seat, fully facing you now. His hands reach for yours, encasing them within his warm palms. "I don't want to ever have to resort to that, but I will if it means saving your life."

It doesn't go unnoticed to you that he doesn't include his life in that statement. Just yours. As if you might run away together, but it's possible only you make it to the end with your life still intact. It's a haunting feeling, the way that thought tugs at your heart. You don't like it.

"What's that?" Your attention is snagged by a flashing box on Yoongi's computer screen.

He turns to look at what's caught your eye. "Oh! Results," he says, snagging his mouse and double-clicking the box.

A multitude of thumbnails pop up, dozens of files ready to be viewed. "What keywords did you use, exactly?" you wonder aloud as you shift closer so you can see the screen better.

"Names, locations, and dates that correlate with the transactions you found." All of the thumbnails are titled with a sequence of numbers and letters, seemingly random. "I might be able to narrow it down, let's look at any files that contain both your father's name and Netty's."

He inputs the search requirements and a few of the documents separate from the rest. This could be another pivotal moment. These files could very well contain extremely sensitive pieces of information that might just sucker punch the both of you.

The mouse icon hovers over the first file. Yoongi glances at you, his eyebrows raising slightly. "Go ahead. Whatever we find, we'll be okay." Despite the nervous smile that curves his lips, he nods and double clicks.

Pivotal is one way to describe it. Each additional file Yoongi opens is like another slice to an already fresh wound. There are countless photos, evidence of your father having a sordid affair with Netty. What hurts the most, though, are the scattering of pictures where you can see your mother in the background, seemingly completely oblivious to your father with his lips locked to Netty's behind a large potted plant in an alcove. You recognize the restaurant and even the dress your mother is wearing. Their twentieth wedding anniversary. You can even see the back of your own head, seated across the table from your mother. The shot is a little blurry, obviously taken from somewhere across the restaurant and at a somewhat bad angle. But, to you, it couldn't be clearer- Marcus Kingston was hired by The Hitman to gather proof of his wife's unfaithfulness.

This revelation puts Yoongi in a sour mood. His brow is pinched, the clicks he administers to the mouse have increasingly become angrier. But what really obliterates the atmosphere is what you find in the very last file. Oddly enough, it's not titled with a mix of letters and numbers. Instead, it has a single word for the name. Erpressung.

It's a copy of a transaction receipt, for services rendered. The emblem for PD Shipments, one of The Hitman's fronts, sits at the top middle of the page, a little distorted, leading you to believe this is a scanned copy of the original document. He couldn't come out and plainly itemize a hired hit, so the lines are vague but allusive enough you can connect the dots. Things like 'cultivation survey', 'Death Valley design unit', and 'waste disposal' make a short but chilling invoice list. It looks like a standard, if a little unusual, bill that someone might incur for 'services'. In this instance, the invoice is addressed to Ruso Industrial Landscaping Services.

"This is dated for two days before mom died," Yoongi whispers, eyes locked on the open file still on his screen. "Ruso. It can't be a coincidence."

"What does 'erpressung' mean?" you ask, pointing to the file name at the top of the document window.

A moment later, Yoongi has a search up. The results indicate it's the German word for extortion. "Marcus Kingston really is an idiot. Who actually names a file like that?" Yoongi shakes his head, baffled.

"He might be an idiot, but The Hitman isn't. Even if these items on the invoice look funny, there is nothing here that could possibly be used to prove anything." You huff an indignant breath. "Who would believe us?"

Perhaps it really took a few minutes for it to truly sink in for Yoongi. One moment he's still shaking his head at the ludicrous nature of Marcus Kingston's fallible ways and the next he's stone still. His jaw visibly tightens, hands fisting where they rest on the table. The sudden transformation has you swallowing, a chill breaking out along the back of your neck.

"He did it. He actually did it." The words are empty, emotionless. "I'm going to kill him!" Yoongi's chair topples backward as he rushes to his feet. It clatters loudly on the hardwood floor, barely covering the sound of Yoongi's ragged breaths.

Before he can take more than a few steps from the table, you're latching on to him. "Yoongi, wait, please! This isn't how we need to approach this!"

Your pleas seem to go unheard, that or Yoongi just doesn't care at this point.

"Let go of me," he hisses, trying to wretch his arm from your grasp.

"No, no, no, please! Please, just listen, you need to stop and think for a moment!"

Yoongi manages to drag you to the doorway of the master bedroom. You manage to lock a leg against the doorframe, bodily blocking him from going in. He pushes against your knee, pressing his hip right into the joint. "Get out of my way!"

"I won't," you stress, vehemently. "Calm the fuck down! Get ahold of yourself for fucks sake. You can't just go off the rails and try to murder him!" You shove against his chest, hard. "Don't be like Namjoon, Yoongi. Just fucking don't!" The last part comes out a bit choked, like the words are lodged in your throat.

His eyes snap to yours. Realization slamming home. "Shit. Shit! You're right." He instantly deflates. "I'm sorry, I don't- I don't know what came over me."

"No, I get it," you admit. "Trust me. I get it. It's a lot and you have every right to feel this way." Yoongi lets you pull him into your arms. "Just have to be smart about this. Stick to the plan, right? Do you think Namjoon might...if you show him everything, maybe he'd believe it?"

Yoongi's chest presses against you as he takes in a deep, slow breath. "I hope so...but, there's only one way to find out."

You slip your hand in his, tugging him back toward the dining room. "Let's finish up and organize everything, get our plan straightened out now that we have a little more to go off of."

It's a solid foundation, you think, once everything is laid out before you. There's plenty of evidence, most of it plain and actually believable. The truth hurts, but it also brings a bit of solace for both you and Yoongi.

The plan is now to present the findings to Namjoon, in hopes that his animosities will be put to rest and his anger will turn towards the real culprit for Netty's life being cut short. Bitterness settles in your belly as you wonder whether or not things would have panned out differently had Netty's and your father's relationship not been discovered. Though, there is still the letter in your father's penmanship that was found in the Tokyo apartment. Something you can only assume was either staged by The Hitman as a decoy, a scapegoat in case someone caught wind of something suspicious, or a stark reality in which your father really did break Netty's heart even if he didn't have a direct hand in her death.

Would your father still have signed your life over to this fate? Would your parents still be alive? How does all of this connect and what pieces are you missing? These are all questions you don't have the answers to and may never, in the end. For now, you settle for just making it through the next few weeks as the plans you have with Yoongi fall into place. If you successfully push off Namjoon's attention, Yoongi is certain the inevitable fall-out between him and The Hitman will be distraction enough for you and him to get out in a way that still gives you a bit of a life to live. Yoongi confided in you that he's certain Namjoon won't stop until he puts a bullet in their father's head...which is the perfect time to slip away, in the aftermath as the powers shift and Seokjin takes his place to rule as the eldest. Your confidence in that playing out just the way he sees it is shotty at best, but you trust him...really, you do. 💔💔💔

"Everything is set, I have it all worked out that after Hoseok's wedding next week I'm going to approach Namjoon, give him everything," Yoongi informs you as he buttons up his baby blue dress shirt. "We're so close. A week in Brazil, then I’ll be home for Hoseok's wedding and then, hopefully...you and I are out of here for good."

He catches your eye through the floor-length mirror he's standing in front of, an addition you both agreed on when you redecorated the bedroom. "Are you sure you'll only be in Brazil for a week? Last time you gave me a time frame, it quadrupled."

"Warsaw was an anomaly. Brazil is a sure thing, I'm just going to be meeting with the new donos, no negotiations or new deals, just an introduction. Easy, simple.”

"Easy...sure. Doesn't mean I want you to go, either way."

His eyes light up as he turns and gives you a quick once over. "Worried you might miss me?"

You laugh, rolling your eyes. The last few weeks, or months, really. It's become increasingly harder to not fall victim to Yoongi's charm. He's a totally different person, here in the safety of your home. He's even better than he was in the beginning, when you thought he was nice for buying you gifts and telling you childhood stories. No, this Yoongi is a breath of much-needed fresh air that you struggle every day not to get high on.

"Don't be so cocky. The only thing I'm going to miss is your coffee. I just can't make it like you do." Your bottom lip pokes out to aid in your pout.

Yoongi throws his head back in laughter. "And here I thought you might actually care about me! Devil woman only wants me for my coffee-making skills." The words tease a smile onto your lips.

"In all seriousness, I will miss you. But I'm also just scared, with everything happening so soon...I just don't want something to go wrong."

Strong arms wrap around you, pressing your face into his chest. His subtle, uniquely-his scent invades your senses. It's comforting, right along with the way his body fits against yours. "I'm not allowed to miss Hoseok's wedding, so even if something does come up I won't have a choice but to put whatever it is on hold so I can get back here. Father would willingly cut ties with the entire Comando Vermelho if it was the only way to get me home on time." You feel his lips press into your hair. “I should get going, the flight leaves in two hours.”

“Hurry back,” you whisper, hugging him a bit tighter before releasing him and stepping back.

You follow him to the front door. His even strides take him right to the threshold. For some reason you can’t shake the uneasy feeling unfurling in your stomach. Maybe it’s just this is the first time Yoongi is leaving for an extended period of time since things have progressed to a new level between the two of you. Granted, you haven’t done anything more than enthusiastic kissing and heavy petting over clothing since, but there is still a new, fresh bond there that’s still fragile.

The front door swings open, revealing a blacked-out sedan parked out front. “Where’s Wenton?” you immediately question. That uneasy feeling doubling up on itself.

“He’s staying here, to be my eyes and ears on you,” he explains in a hushed tone so his words don’t carry beyond your little bubble.

Your lips pinch between your teeth as you roll them. “He could still drive you to the airstrip.”

Yoongi glances over his shoulder, your eyes following his when you notice his posture straighten instantly. The driver, a man you don’t recognize, is leaning with his forearms braced over the drivers' side door. He’s wearing dark sunglasses, but you can feel his eyes tracking your every move. “I don’t care what you think,” Yoongi growls, making his voice loud enough, intending for the driver to hear. He’s acting again, putting on a show, you know. “Get your ass inside where you belong.” His attention snaps back to yours, eyes flashing momentarily with regret.

“You’re a real asshole,” you snark back, popping a hip and throwing up a rude gesture in his face.

He takes a menacing step forward, crowding his chest into yours. “You dare to talk to me like that!” Yoongi raises his right hand, palm towards you as if he means to strike you for your insolence. “If I had more time I’d whip you raw, you ungrateful bitch.” His raised hand comes down and fists into your shirt, hauling you up onto your toes. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice so soft you’re more reading his lips than hearing his words. “I know you’ve been thinking about it, I can see it in your eyes when you look at me sometimes. I meant what I said to you that night…I do love you. I don’t expect you to reciprocate, I don’t deserve it. But, I swear, when I come back I’m going to continue to try and prove myself to you.” You’re shoved back a step, stumbling as Yoongi releases your shirt. “Your ass is mine when I get back, mark my words.” His chest rumbles as he growls that threat before promptly turning on his heel and marching toward the waiting car. “What are you waiting for? Get the fuck in the car, I have a plane to catch,” he snaps to the driver who jerks back from his lax position to follow the order.

You close the door with a wave of emotions battering your insides. Regret, anxiety, and anticipation all mix with the faintest bit of happiness. You’re still scared, you’d be a fool not to be, but another piece of the puzzle just fell into place. Yoongi said it again. You’re only a little disappointed that he left before you could say it back and even a bit more that he thinks you don’t want to say it back. But, now more than ever, you’re certain you want to…before it’s too late. 💔💔💔

True to his word, Yoongi arrives home just a week later, the night before Hoseok’s wedding. As with your own, and as much as you could gather from Miriam’s account how hers went, it’ll be simple and short. You’ve been invited, only because you’re now officially part of the family- unlike when Miriam married Seokjin. Alina adamantly refused to let any of The Hitman’s family help her get ready. So, as much as you might have hated it, you’re a little disappointed you don’t get to assist with her hair or makeup. You haven’t seen any of the Russians since the dinner party and you’re quite okay with that, at least. They didn’t exactly have the warmest nor most pleasant demeanors.

“Come on, we’ll be late if we don’t leave soon.” Yoongi waits for you to turn with your back to his front, so he can settle the new amethyst butterfly necklace that he picked up for you in Brazil, around your neck. “You look beautiful. I love you in purple,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose along your exposed shoulder, placing intermittent kisses as he goes. The dress is strapless with flowy, gossamer strips of royal purple and lilac that flutter to just below your knees.

You turn, smiling up at him. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you admit, taking in his black suit jacket, pants, and purple dress shirt to match your dress. “You know, I don’t think I mind so much when we match after all.”

“That’s my girl,” he coos, a wolfish grin splitting his face. “I’ve missed you, a week was too long.” His lips brush yours lightly before he groans and presses them more firmly, desperately. It’s an automatic response now, to open for him, letting his tongue dip between your lips.

When his hands grip your hips and rock you forward against his now evident erection you have to suppress a shudder and pull away, breaking the kiss with a weak exhale. “We don’t have time, we’ll be late.” As if you didn’t just reiterate his earlier statement, you latch your lips back on his for another round of kissing that leaves you even more breathless.

“We’re finishing this later,” he pants, his soft puffs of breath flowing over your now moist and kiss-swollen lips. You’re certain all your dusky mauve lipstick is gone at this point and with the flush your lips are sure to be sporting, you don’t even think you should bother to reapply. "Be sure to keep this covered," Yoongi mumbles, his hand caressing the pistol strapped to the outside of your thigh. The flowing style of the dress isn't just for looks, it also helps conceal the Ruger LC9 nestled in its black holster.

"I hate that I even might need it." Never in your life have you ever thought you'd need a weapon to protect yourself. You like to believe you're not naïve enough to think you'd get through life without some sort of conflict. But, it's just not really one of those things you think about until you're put into the situation to have to think about it. "It's just a wedding...what's the worst that could happen?"

Yoongi makes a grumbling sound in protest. "More than you could ever imagine. Don't forget whose wedding you're attending. It's not just my family, but also the largest Russian crime organization. I can guarantee you everyone in attendance will be armed in some fashion."

It's hard to argue with that, so you just let it go. It's not all that bad being armed, just one of those weird power-dynamic kinds of situations. Checking one last time to make sure the sway of your dress still conceals the weapon, you sigh and say, "Let's go, best get on with it before we're late."

Just as you surmised, it's a small affair. Only slightly larger than your own wedding by three attendees; Ivan, Leonid, and Dasha. Wenton's place is taken by Hoseok's assistant, Morris, but everything else is the same. Alina's color choice reflects in the bouquets and flower arrangements. They showcase blood red roses and gold filigree accents. It's all a bit garish, made more so by her gown. It's a monstrously huge, puffy metallic gold-colored thing that puts a good three feet between her and Hoseok as they stand in the gazebo.

Dasha is dressed no less cringy. Her own dress is lime green with yellow trim, a slip dress with slits up to her radical hip bones that tug the fabric in a skeletal way that you find a bit concerning. She looks to have lost an extreme amount of weight since the last you saw her. You don't have much chance to ponder her current living conditions, as the ceremony draws to a close and everyone disperses. There is no after-party, no one lingers to congratulate the newly wedded couple. Hoseok makes a beeline for the garage while Alina begins to throw a bit of a tantrum, yelling at her father in Russian.

You follow Yoongi inside, hoping he'll lead you out the front door to where Wenton should still be waiting with the SUV. Your heart kickstarts into a gallop as The Hitman calls for Yoongi to meet him in his office, now.

"It should only be a minute. You can wait right here for me or go ahead out to the car with Wenton," he assures you, giving your hand a squeeze before disappearing down the hall toward his father's office.

It's an easy decision, you don't want to spend any more time in this house than you have to. Making your way down the entrance hall, you're just about to open the front door when you hear a muffled scream coming from the closed drawing room to your left. Instinct says, not your problem, but when a second scream filters through the heavy door you're pulling it open before you can let your instinct really speak. You should have just kept walking.

The moment the door pops open you want nothing more than to shut it and forget what you see. But, it's like a car wreck on the highway, you can't help but stare. Dasha lays crumpled on the floor, her green dress covered with dark brown splatters. It doesn't take more than a second to realize it's not dark brown, it's red only looking that way on the green. Namjoon is hunched over her, his right arm raised back. Gripped in his lofted hand is a thin, short blade. You watch as a bright red liquid drips from the tip. Blood. Dasha's blood.

You want to scream, your body needs the release, but it's frozen like a deer in headlights. You need to move, to get out of those blinding beams. Only, you can't no matter how hard you try. It takes a moment for Namjoon to detect your presence. But as soon as his head turns and his eyes lock onto yours, your body kicks into action. That scream comes ripping out as you jump back and slam the door.

It doesn't stay shut long, though. You barely make it three steps before the door behind you splinters open and crashes against the wall. "Yoongi! Yoongi!" You've never screamed so loud before. "Yoongi!"

Several things happen simultaneously. You hear a door bang open down the hall where The Hitman's office is, Yoongi shouts your name, and Namjoon pounces. The force of Namjoon's large body barreling into yours knocks the air right out of your lungs, suffocating the next scream in your throat.

The back door flies open just as you see Yoongi sliding around the corner from the far hall. His eyes lock onto you caged in Namjoon's arm, fear and anger turning his face into a murderous scowl. Ivan and Leonid come through the back, hot on his heels, yelling and demanding to know what all the screaming is for.

"Stop right where you are!" Namjoon bellows. One of his arms hooks around both of yours, hiking your elbow high into the middle of your back. Pain radiates down your shoulders as he shakes you. His other hand brings the bloody knife to press under your chin. "One more step, brother, and I'll fucking slit her throat!"

Yoongi's steps falter, the blood draining from his face.

"What's the matter with you, boy?!" Leonid barks, stopping just a few steps beyond Yoongi. "Is that blood?"

"Dasha!" you whimper, her name turning into a wail as Namjoon jostles you and shoves the blade further against your neck, pricking the skin.

"Shut the fuck up!" he screams into your ear.

Leonid takes a step further. "What did you say, girl? I know you didn't dare speak my daughter's name."

"Namjoon!" The Hitman's commanding voice echoes down the hall. "Let her go. Now!"

Namjoon wretches your arms a little tighter making you cry out, tears free falling down your cheeks. "Nah, don't think I will. I think I'll keep her, I need a replacement wife after I gutted the other she-bitch."

Leonid snarls, making to take another step forward but Yoongi latches onto his arm and holds him back. "Let me go, svoloch'!" he roars, trying to dislodge Yoongi's hold. Ivan grapples Yoongi from behind, coming to Leonid's aid.

All hell breaks loose a moment later. Guns are drawn, curses and punches thrown. Guards seem to materialize out of nowhere. You hear Yoongi yelling, The Hitman barking orders, and just the sounds of utter chaos. None of it stops Namjoon, he simply pulls you backward to the front door. You lose sight of Yoongi a moment later as you're hauled off toward a waiting car.

Kicking and screaming doesn't help, Namjoon just chuckles any time you land a foot to his shins. "Don't worry, little mouse, I'm going to take good care of you."

The knife to your throat is finally lifted. Namjoon tosses it to the side, discarding it in the grass. "Please, Namjoon, please just let me go." Your throat is hoarse from screaming but you beg through the pain anyway. You frantically look around, hoping to see a sign of Wenton or anyone else that might help. There’s no one.

"Don't be a spoilsport, we're going to have lots of fun. Just wait." He pops the trunk of the car, grabbing out a roll of duct tape. "This might be a bit uncomfortable, but really it's for your own good." The ripping sound of the tape makes goosebumps pop up along your arms as he binds them. It's not just a simple band around your wrists, something you probably could work your way out of. No, he winds the tape over several times all the way up to your elbows, locking them tightly in place. Your ankles get a lesser sentence, just one thick strip around them that grinds your bones together painfully. Namjoon pulls off your heels, discarding them to the side with the knife. "Try to relax, little mouse, it's a long drive." The last thing he does is slap a strip of tape over your mouth before slamming the trunk shut.

You can faintly hear commotion spilling from the front door, like the chaos has finally followed you outside. But it's soon covered by the hum of the engine turning over and then the crunch of tires over gravel as Namjoon guns it down the driveway. There is a shining thread of hope in the shape of a handgun still strapped to your thigh. You can feel it pressing painfully into your leg from how you’re laying on it. Instead of rolling over to relieve the ache, you embrace it, letting it be a steady reminder that there is still a chance. You have a gun Namjoon doesn’t know about and you know Yoongi will come for you. He has to be okay. He has to find you. If anyone can, you know it’ll be him. 💔💔💔

You try to count the minutes in your head, to judge just how long you drive, but the mix of stifling heat in the trunk and your panicked heartbeat have you stuttering over numbers. The car finally begins to slow, coming to a stop before the engine is cut. It’s eerily quiet in the trunk, even your shallow breaths are barely breaking the oppressive silence. Sweat beads along your temples, threatening to drip into your eyes if you move too much. It might be Fall outside, but it might as well be mid-summer trapped where you are.

An audible click signals a door being open before you feel the car shift a little beneath you. You’re able to trace the soft scuff of shoes as someone approaches the back of the car. It’s impossible to suppress the relieved whine that leaves you when the trunk pops open and you can draw in a breath of fresh air. It’s cold, crisp, and leaves a welcomed ache in your lungs. Though, that relief quickly turns into renewed panic when Namjoon leans in and blocks out what little light is left in the sky.

“Is that her?” A masculine voice you don’t recognize asks from outside your line of sight.

“My little mouse, come to play,” he says to you, a feverish glint in his eye. He casts a look to his right. “Yeah, this is the one I told you about. Is it ready?”

The unknown man barks a laugh and then says, “You pay for the best, you get the best. I’m almost insulted you’d ask that.”

“You’ll get the other half once the job is done. If I know my brother, and I do, he’ll be just behind us. Hopefully, without the cavalry. I might have put a little bug in Father’s ear,” Namjoon’s attention drops back to you, “that our little mouse here has been squeaking a little too loud and sampling cheeses outside the home.”

“You have four hours before my crew burns it down, make sure anything you don’t want someone potentially using against you is inside where the fire will be the hottest. Give her a little kiss for me, will ya? I sure do miss getting my hands dirty.” He laughs again, like this is all some sick joke and you’re missing the punchline. “Don’t suppose I could watch for a minute?” Namjoon turns dark eyes back to his right. The man must see something in his gaze that gives him an answer enough. “Chill out, man, I was kidding.”

“Leave,” Namjoon snaps. You hear the barely there sound of the man's footfalls as he retreats.

The pain in your arms and shoulders blazes anew when Namjoon yanks you out of the trunk. Your bare feet meet cold concrete, ankles still bound. You blink rapidly, getting a glimpse at your location for the first time. The sun hangs low in the sky, just above the distant city skyline. What city, you’re not sure, but if you had to estimate you’re closer to home than you originally thought. To the left is a river, one you’re certain cuts right through the outskirts of the city. A dilapidated warehouse sits ahead of you, giant ‘keep out’ and ‘condemned’ signs plastered over the rotting front. “Welcome to your new home, little mouse.” You can hear the sinister glee in his words as he swings an arm around your hips and lifts you clear off the ground, walking toward a small, open door.

Once inside you wince, your eyes going foggy as they try to adjust to the sudden darkness. Your pupils go from wide to pinpricks when Namjoon slaps his free hand on the wall and the entire space floods with light brighter than the sun. “Namjoon, please!” The words are muffled behind the silver tape covering your mouth, but you’re certain he can make it out just fine.

He walks you further into the warehouse space. There are old abandoned pieces of construction equipment lining the walls, like metal-bone sentinels watching over your descent into Hell. “Does Yoongi like when you beg like that, little mouse?” he asks with a smug grin. “He seems the type to get off on a struggle. Hands around your neck, dick down your throat, watching the plea for mercy slowly bleed from your eyes until you’re just at the edge before he grants you a small breath of life. But, that’s the problem right there, isn’t it? He’s the kind that gives in, he lets up, doesn’t have the balls to go all the way.” You know he’s trying to degrade Yoongi in that regard, making him seem weak. But, it has the opposite effect for you. He’s right. Yoongi is like that, he does give in and let up…because he's not a monster.

You try to mutter out another response, something you hope sounds like ‘Fuck you’.

“Come again?” Namjoon says, reaching up and ripping the tape from your mouth.

You groan, lips blazing enough to rival the fiery ache in your shoulders. “I said,” you pant, “Fuck. You.”

Namjoon’s bellowing laugh scares you. It’s so sharp, sudden, and echoes around the warehouse. “Fuck me, huh? Is that your fantasy? Yoongi not quite doing it for you? Don’t worry, princess,” he sneers at the nickname Yoongi uses for you, “I have eight inches of glory waiting just for you.”

A knife. A big one. He wasn’t exaggerating when he said eight inches. It has a wicked edge, half smooth and half serrated near the hilt. Namjoon shoves you through to a side room, which was once probably an office space for the warehouse. Inside is a setup that has your blood running cold. A large chain hangs down from one of the overhead steel beams. The knife he promised is waiting on a rickety table just beside it.

You barely take in the rest of the room before you’re effectively trussed up like a pig for slaughter. A large hook attached to the bottom of the chain is shoved through the duct tape covering your forearms. Your toes barely graze the concrete floor, elbows straining up to a near impossible angle. “Shit,” you grit between clenched teeth as your weight settles fully to brutalize the already screaming joints of your shoulders.

“If my estimate is right,” Namjoon says as he circles around in front of you. He pulls out his phone, glances at it with a smile, then drops it back into his pocket. “By the time Yoongi gets here, he’s on his way now if you were wondering, you’ll be just on that cusp between life and well, not life. He’ll get to watch the fire go out in your eyes. Probably no different than how the fire left my mother’s eyes after your father destroyed her!” By the time he’s done, he’s screaming the words.

“No, no, no, no! Namjoon! It’s not like that. Netty wasn’t-,” he backhands you across the mouth, cutting off your words.

“You don’t get to say her name!” he roars, spittle flying. “Your father,” he jabs a finger into your chest, “stole her from me! I only wish he were alive so he could watch me steal you from him.”

You’re sobbing, from both the pain radiating along your jaw but also with the loss of the hope you had. The pistol might still be strapped to your upper tight, but it’s proving useless at this point. If you can’t get free, can’t get your hands on it, it does no good. You’re lucky Namjoon hasn’t found it…not that you’re worried he’d take it away, but you’d rather he not turn it on you. Being killed with your own gun just seems like a bigger slap in the face somehow.

“You’re wrong,” you whimper. “It wasn’t my father.”

“What a poor effort. You can do better than that, little mouse. Tell me a lie I might actually believe,” he scoffs, turning his back on you and approaching the small table. “We really could have had some fun you know? Us brothers, we share everything. You’d have ended up in my bed eventually, probably wouldn’t have left either.” He chuckles, finding humor in his musings. “Though, Yoongi is probably my only brother that I haven't completely figured out. He’s a hard worker, obedient and jumps when he’s told to. Then you came along,” he turns back to face you, knife in hand, “and there was a change in him. He grew softer, more hesitant. We can’t have that, though, can we? Especially for you. You don’t deserve something soft.” Namjoon steps close, bringing the tip of the blade to rest right at the top of your dress between your breasts. “The satisfaction of watching you bleed might not be the same as if I could gut your father, but I’ll be sure to make the most of it.” Fire blooms between your breasts as the knife tip slides easily into your skin, a strangled cry ripping from your throat. “That’s it. Squeak for me, little mouse, let me hear you.”

You’re not sure how long it goes on for. Could be minutes, could be hours. Your skin is alive with pain, dull and sharp sensations that throb and throb just below the surface. At some point Namjoon shredded the bodice of your dress, the purple fabric hanging it strips from your waist. The flowy skirt hangs like a wet blanket around your hips, no longer beautiful shades of purple but dark crimson instead. You’re fairly certain Namjoon is talking to you, but you can’t hear him over the buzzing in your ears. You stopped screaming at one point, emitting only gurgling grunts that tasted of warm metal. The numbness started in your fingers and toes, but it’s steadily creeping up your limbs and has been for a while now. It’s weird, feeling both hot and cold at the same time. There is an unpleasantness about the way your eyes blink, like if you close them for too long it becomes harder to open them again.

It registers after a moment that Namjoon is no longer beside you. A wave of nausea rolls in as you try to swivel your head and locate him. A distant shout sounds out from beyond the open office door. It’s punctuated by several shots of gunfire. Someone’s calling your name you now realize. It pierces through some of the haze, bringing your focus into a little clarity. “Yoongi?” you croak, seeing a blurry figure appear in the doorway.

“Oh holy fuck, holy fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” The voice sounds like Yoongi’s but your eyes won’t focus enough to see the face that looms before you. “It’s going to be okay, princess, I’m here. Oh, gods, I’m here!”

Your cry turns into a wet cough when you’re lifted from the hook. A burning tingle creeps into your fingers before lighting up the full length of your arms. You try to suck in gasping breaths, the pain nearly making you pass out. “Yoongi?” you try again.

“It’s me. I’m here, I’m here.” His voice is choked. “Hang on, I’m going to get you out of here.” You’re faintly aware of him cutting through the duct tape on your arms and ankles. More echoes of gunfire and yelling echo through the doorway from beyond.

“Where is he?” you ask in a strained whisper.

“Ran,” Yoongi offers in a short response. “There were guards, a crew out back. But, don’t worry, I’m getting you out of here…no matter the cost.” He strips his purple dress shirt off and helps you thread your arms through it. His white undershirt is stained with big red splotches.

“What happened?”

“Later. We’ll talk later, I promise. For now, let’s go. Can you walk?”

You nod but it must not convince Yoongi. He scoops his arms under you, cradling you to his chest. This close, you’re finally able to get a good look at his face. There is a cut along his right eyebrow, dried blood on his chin. “You came for me,” the words ghost out of you with a sense of awe.

He only spares a second to look down at you. But it’s enough. You see everything so plainly on his face. “Of course I did. I love you.” It’s like a glimpse into his soul. Raw, unfiltered, and devastatingly Yoongi.

His focus changes, going back to high alert as he carries you to the office door. Looking out, checking both ways, he takes a tentative step forward. There are distant sounds of yelling, a few screams, but no more gunfire. It must be good enough for Yoongi, he begins to jog through the warehouse, aiming for a propped-open side door. You pass a few bodies, men in suits and others in full black tactical gear.

You can see out the door now. It’s dark but there are beams of bright headlights, like the cars were left with their lights on as people poured from them. Just as Yoongi approaches the doorway your world tilts sideways. You have that gut-wrenching sensation of a roller coaster drop as you’re dislodged from Yoongi’s arms before slamming painfully into the unforgiving concrete.

“She’s mine!” It’s a roar that you’re sure would rattle the windows if there was any glass left in the panes.

Namjoon and Yoongi grapple just a few feet away. You watch it, almost in slow motion, as Namjoon gains the upper hand. He lurches to his feet with Yoongi caged to his chest. The glint of metal catches your eye, Yoongi’s pocket knife fisted in Namjoon’s hand. Snarling, he presses the blade to Yoongi’s throat, effectively cutting off his struggle.

“Just let her go, Namjoon, your fight is with me,” Yoongi grunts, his hands latched onto Namjoon’s forearm where it bands across his upper chest.

“She needs to suffer! How can you take her side after what her father did to our mother!” The rage in Namjoon is palpable, suffocating.

“It’s not like that, it’s not. I have proof it’s not like that, you just have to trust me. Let her go and I promise…I promise, Namjoon, I’ll make it all okay. We can take him out together, the real reason mom’s dead.”

“Him? What? Why should I believe you?!” You watch the knife tip dig into the side of Yoongi’s neck, just below his jaw. A small stream of red streaks down the column of his throat, disappearing below the collar of his shirt only to soak into the fabric a second later.

“Deep down you know it’s true, though. None of it makes sense. Suicide, really? Netty wasn’t that kind of woman, she wouldn’t have done that to us,” Yoongi explains, his words not wavering in the slightest. It’s like he’s done this song and dance before, he knows how to tame the beast that is Namjoon. You hope it works.

With slow movements, you shift until you get your feet under yourself. As you begin to push up to stand, your hand brushes over your thigh…across a hard object you had forgotten all about. A ragged breath empties from your lungs at the realization you still have it. Namjoon never bothered to remove the rest of your dress or even bothered with taking his knife to your legs. You distinctly remember him spouting off about wanting you to match the ugliness Yoongi keeps hidden under his shirts.

Yoongi is still trying to talk Namjoon down. His constant stream of words keeps the attention focused on him. Your hand trembles as you slide it under the soaked fabric of your dress, trailing up your thigh until it meets the rough case of the holster. It’s not lost on you that you probably only have one shot at this. If you don’t make it count, it’ll not matter anyway. His words might be aimed at Namjoon, but Yoongi’s eyes are cut to you, watching as you gingerly withdraw the pistol he made sure you had strapped to your thigh.

“…brothers mean more than this because…” His warm brown eyes meet yours as his words to Namjoon trail off.

“Because why?” Namjoon prompts from Yoongi. “Because why, finish your fucking sentence!”

“Because sometimes in life we have to make hard decisions. Decisions we know will hurt, even if we also know they’re the right ones to make. Life isn’t always fair, in fact, most of the time it’s a pure bitch. But, what matters, in the end, is that we tried, we did what we had to do, and we did it with no regrets because it was the right thing to do. The. Right. Thing. To. Do.” He gives you a nod, a sad smile on his lips. “It’s okay, it’ll always be okay.”

It’s a slight possibility, being able to shoot Namjoon without also hitting Yoongi. Even if you had hours of gun range experience under your belt, which you sorely don’t, you know it’d still be a slim chance. Yoongi is telling you it’s okay, he understands and you have to do this even if you don’t want to.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Namjoon grunts, forcing the knife harder against Yoongi’s throat.

“Love doesn’t have to make sense.” The words are whispered. Yoongi’s eyes are holding steady on yours as you raise the gun, take aim, and pull the trigger.

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◅ Back to Master List ©️   2022-08-30   ColorMePurplex2

#bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts #bts yoongi #bts smut #bts mafia au #bts reader insert #bts enemies to lovers #bts dark au #yoongi #min yoongi #yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #kinky yoongi #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #bangtanwritershq #mafia yoongi #bts arranged marriage au #yoongi arranged marriage #bts angst

[keelt9]

Chapter 5

Space

Masterlist

The next hours passed like it wasn’t me. When I left the building, I heard Jill scream my name, but I chose not to turn back. I took a cab and asked him to leave me in the little store near to the beach, all the way I let the tears flow crying in silence.

I walk until the rocks of the ravine meet the sand and the sea; I sit there trying to calm down but slowly I hug my legs and hide my face between the space that my chest and my knees create, I let out the pain, a pain that it was utterly know, like someone keep squeezing my chest leaving me out of breath. 

“I’m so sorry Riley, so sorry.” I whisper over and over again, rubbing my arms trying to find some kind of warm sensation.

“Don’t you dare do this to me Riley.” I put all my weight over his wound but it seems to be useless because my hands quickly stain red. “Riley!” 

He takes his dog tags with shaking moves from his neck and puts them in my hands. 

“No, no, no, Riley, hey, hey, look at me, ok? I’m gonna get you out of here just look at me.” He is smiling and he is breaking something in me. “Please Riley, hold on.”

*

Phoenix, Bob and I were walking after the maneuvers from today ended,  when we heard a Cyclone voice. 

“Watch your tone, Lieutenant.” We looked at each other but our questions were interrupted by the sounds of someone running to us. Jake passes us running like his life depends on it. For a moment we were a ghost on his way to Cyclone and the unfortunate pilot, but Cyclone stopped him. 

“Commander Seresin.” Jake doubts if he must reach the person who is walking away or he must obey, at the end he walks back. “Let her, she just needs time.” Jake lowers his head and breath out, we see him clench his fist, he is contained. 

“Sir… I think…” Cyclone interrupts him. 

“It’s an order.” 

We wait until Cyclone disappears through the doors leaving Jake alone. “Hey Bangaman, what’s going on?” Jake turns around and lets his shoulders down, rubbing his forehead like he was trying to find the pieces of something.  

“Sky…she lost control up there.” 

Jake told us what happen and instantly, I run even I hear them scream; I look for her in the dressing room, bathroom, classroom, Jamie’s office, but it’s like I’m trying to find a ghost, when I was walking for Cyclone office, I hear Jill screaming her name from the main entrance, but when I reach Jill, she was grabbing the back of his neck.

“Is she okay?” I ask her, but Jill just sees me and denies with her head. 

“How could she?” 

I arrive at Hard Deck, Penny is already outside like she is waiting for someone, she stands as I walk closer to her. “Rooster, have you seen Sky? The girl who was the other…” I interrupted her. 

“I know her, but I thought she was with you.” Penny sits on the stairs. “It was that bad?” She doesn’t give me time to answer. 

“I KNOW, I think I know where she is.” 

Penny told me that Sky and Riley had a special “ritual” when the day was hard, they bought a couple of beers and sat on the beach observing the ocean, Penny thought she must be somewhere near that store.

*

What feels like hours of crying were interrupted for the sensation of someone sitting beside me, I clean my face before I raise my head. 

Bradley is sitting next to me, he isn’t looking at me, he isn't speaking to me, he just sits beside me, without a reason my tears accumulate one more time. 

“I’m so…” He interrupts me before I apologize. 

“What you've been through it’s not easy, but you don’t have to apologize with no one, I’m pretty sure even Riley knows you don’t owe him an apology.” His voice is a soft whisper that brings me a little bit of calm, he sees me and I find a little bit of comfort in his face. “Quite the opposite, thank you for keeping fighting, thank you for being here.” 

For an impulse I hug him, he shocks for a moment, but he holds me back. “You are doing the best every day and that is more than enough.” I grip him tight, fearing if I don’t do that I will keep falling.

At that moment I didn’t even care how he knew about Riley, how he knew what happened or where to find me, with his mere presence, I felt calm, I felt I could cry a river and he would stay there, and when he hugged me, I didn’t notice but… changed a lot of things inside of me.

My parents gave me the space I needed; when I arrived home, they were in their room just sticking their heads out to make sure I arrived safely home, watching me enter my room and close the door.

At dawn I get down to eat a snack; it’s been more than 9 hours since I ate and my stomach starts to protest; I hear footsteps coming downstairs and my mother enters the kitchen, she doesn't look at me with pity, she just serves a glass of water and asks me. “Are you in the mood for chocolate chip cookies?” I see her and she smiles at me. 

“Sounds great.”

With the sun rising in the horizon my mother and I were eating chocolate chip cookies in the garden with our pjs on. 

“Y/N, you know, when your father and I knew you were coming to the world, we promise to each other and specially to you, we’re going to make you the strongest girl in the world, what a surprise when at 2 years old you already challenging us with that cold look of you, herency of your father by the way… We understand you already were the strongest girl in the world.” 

I grab another cookie. “What I try to say is, you always do the best you can and that’s fine, don’t be hard on yourself.” She put her hand on my knee, looking at me like she always does, if I was the brightest star in her sky. “I love you so much my little butterfly.” 

With the weekend beginning I know I have to go for a little trip before the deciding week begins; I pack a little bag and say goodbye to my parents. I take a flight to Boston, Riley’s hometown; I need to do something so I can start to let him go.

Waiting for the door to open while the cold weather embraces me makes me smile; Riley always said if I ever get bored from the hot days, there I will always feel a cold but nice breeze.

“Y/N?” A tall, blonde guy appears behind the door, in front of me.

“Hi, Jack.” He put the towel he had between his hands on his shoulder, for he could freely hug me. 

“OMG, Y/N! What a surprise.” He let me go and let me in. “Please let me help you with that.” He takes my bag by the time the sound of small steps running to us puts a smile on my face. 

“AUNT SKY!” A 2-year boy appears with his apron covered with food. 

“Henry, hey!” He jumps for I catch him and holds me by my neck, I close my eyes, when I open one more time, Camille is watching us. 

“I wonder why there is so much fuss at this hour.” I smiled at her, and Henry let me go. 

“I’m sorry for coming without a….” Camille denies. “You don’t need an invitation Sky, you are family, didn’t she, Henry?” I look at the boy who is nodding incessantly. “Come here, we are just about to finish for breakfast and I bet you didn’t even eat something properly.” The cookies weren't a proper breakfast and that’s for sure.

Jack and Riley Miller were closer brothers, their mother died when they were 9 and 6 years old, for an unexpected and lethal cancer, left them with his father, who died a few months after Riley graduated from the navy, a fulminate heart attack. If life could be more cruel, after a couple of years I gave Jack, Riley’s dog tags and a flag, since that moment and on, I couldn’t even see them in the face.

“How are your parents?” Jack asks, putting in front of me a full plate with pancakes, eggs, and bacon. 

“Good, thanks for asking, they send you greetings.” Camille is in Henry’s bedroom changing his clothes. 

“I was tempted to call you but… well, I didn’t know where you were.” With a bite of pancakes, it was a difficult question from Jack, thankfully I didn’t have to answer because Henry entered with draws in both of his hands. 

“He insists on showing you his drawings.” Henry was the adoration of Riley, in his bag there was always a picture of Henry, every time we could be at our home, he always made sure to buy him a nice toy. I met him when Henry was just 5 months old. He was a cute little baby, a kid that's easy to love, but smart like Miller's.

“I save the best for the last.” Henry removes all the drawings just leaving one.

If you narrow it down your eyes can see a small drawing of a plane, submerged in a blue color and in the top an orange ball, I guess it must be the sun, but a peculiar green circle along the airplane. 

“It’s a good one.” Jack says sitting next to us. “Explain it buddy.” 

Henry watches his father and then points with his little finger. 

“This is the ocean, this is an F-18, the plane you fly; Uncle Ray said you are the most amazing pilot he ever knew. You even blast off in the middle of night like you have the sun above you, that’s why I put the orange for the sunset.” He keeps quiet as if he is thinking deeply. 

“And this?” I point at the green circle.

“Is uncle Railey.” He looks at me. “Uncle Ray said no matter where we are or what we do, he always going to be watching us from the sky, so I guess is the same with you aunt Sky, no matter where you are or what you do, you always going to have a little green light beside you, who is actually in the sky.” My tears were rolling and all of them were smiling at me. 

“Is for you, maybe if you watch it every day, you’re not a sad Aunt, anymore, I hate to see you cry.” I hug Henry because it is the only thing I can do right now.

The weekend we passed, the days talking with Jack and his family put us on the day, playing with Henry, telling him stories about how amazing Railey was and how much he loves him. Saturday night before he goes to sleep, I said goodbye to him, promising that I would go to see them from time to time and say hi to Riley every time I’ll be in the sky. 

“You promise Y/N, you come from time to time.” Jack says and puts a cup of coffee and slice of apple pie; they insist I must eat something before leaving. 

“Actually, I came here for a reason.” Both look at me with surprise in their expressions, I put a folder in the table and push to them. “I’ll…I’ll be preparing to get back, but on the way I realized that I must let go Riley. I know so well how much Riley loves you and how much he wanted to help you just like you did with him; as I get back made me realize he left so much things undone, and it’s killing me; so I’ll work hard for let him go, still I’ll do whatever I can for take care of the one he loves just like he did with me the last time.” I see a glimpse of tears in Jack's eyes.

“Inside of the folder there is the deed of the house that Riley and I bought, it’s yours.” They open his eyes and try to speak but I continue, stopping with my hands. “Riley and I bought that house because we dreamed that when one of us wants to settle down, there will always be a nice and warm home waiting, but well, things don’t go as we planned, so this is yours. Riley said if he works harder maybe he could buy you one someday and help you with something, his intention was in the future, you only have to worry about Henry and not the stupid rent, so…Here.” Jack pushed it back. 

“No, no, no Sky, is yours, I can’t, it's not right.” I clear my throat.

“Actually, it isn’t mine, it was from the both of us, and now is yours.” He grabs my hand. “It’s a nice town, Henry will have a lot of fields where to run and play, you can maybe look for a nice place where you can put your veterinary for you, and Camille can start her own vegetable patch, like she dreams.” I smile at both of them. 

“Let me please know the death of Riley wasn’t in vain, let me help you like he dream about, that way I can let him go.” Jack and Camille stand and hug me, letting my tears roll. 

“Thanks Y/N, thank you so much.”

“But stop crying, he will punch me if he sees that I made you cry.” He scoffs and they split. 

“Well, I'd better go, you have a lot of things to do.” The tree of us giggled.

-

“Morning Hondo.” I say to him walking to the hangar, he almost chokes with his coffee. 

“Sky, what are you doing here?” Left his coffee in the table and look his watch. “It’s 6 am!” I adjust my suit. 

“I know, my test begins this hour, no one told you?”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun maverick #fanfic #rooster x reader #top gun fanfiction

[mishwanders]

Chapter Thirty One [No.031]: This Is Our Life

Pairing: RE5 Albert Wesker x GN!Cannibal Reader

Summary: You're working hard in the garden when Wesker comes to find you.

Warnings: Disabled Smut, Minors DNI.

The Devil’s Teeth

Read on AO3 [ X ]

You were in the small greenhouse, tending to the needs of your new task. One of the Sonnentreppe flowers had made it out in your desperate escape, on your person no less. Considering what it had endured with you and Wesker, you decided to care for it, to bring it back to life. With that loving tender care, it began to create more in the short period of time that you had planted it, but you made sure to cull it, only wanting enough to fit into this small corner of home, only enough to keep on hand for research and their beauty.

As you tended to them, you heard the door slide open and you turned your attention to find Wesker entering in behind you. You give him a warm smile before returning to finish up your duties. Only then did you back away from the flowers, feeling him come up next to you.

You looked at him happily.

Things felt good. It was peaceful for once in your life.

“Do you think it’s enough?”

He chuckled, “ I think it’ll be enough to start with.”

“Will it really help though? With creating a vaccine, I mean.” You asked

He nodded.

“I still have the information on Jill’s antibodies. There’s a way for me to replicate the DNA structure of it with this.”

You nodded in response.

“Good.”

“Are you still sure you don’t want it?” He asked

“It’s taken a long time for me to finally accept myself as I am. Which doesn’t mean that I won’t, because eventually, I would like to.” You began, turning to face him. “But someone still needs to look out for you as we do this. I don’t mind being the one to protect you in the meantime.”

“You would put your own life on the line for me still, even after everything?” He asked

“Of course I would. The longer I keep you safe, the more time I get to spend with you.” You replied, snaking your arm around his waist. “The more time I get to spend with you, the more I get to love you.”

“Turning into a bit of a romantic?” He asked with a grin on his face.

“Only with you.” You chuckled

He leaned in closer to you, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Thank you, dearheart. I wouldn’t be here now if it weren’t for you.”

“I know, but I’m happy you’re still here now.” You replied, “Want to head back inside? I’m done with the plants for the day.”

He nodded.

“I would like that a lot.”

You let go of his waist, walking beside him back inside, hearing the subtle click of his cane against the floor. You both made your way through the hall all the way to your shared room. You flipped on the lamp as Wesker made his way to the other end of the room, settling down on the edge of the bed. He began to unbutton his shirt, showing the straps across his chest and shoulders that were holding his prosthetic arm in place.

“Want some help?” You asked

He nodded and you walked over to him, undoing it before picking it up and setting it down gently on the dresser. You moved back over to him, watching as he continued to remove the rest of his shirt, his cane settled against the nightstand. You noticed how the golden head of the snake shined under the warm lamp light and a smile tugged at your lips. You were happy that he was getting more accustomed to using it rather than forcing himself to move through the pain alone. You turned your attention back to him and Wesker looked up at you from his position.

There was a gentle smile on his face, one of complacency in your presence. You could see all of the adoration he had for you, the weight of relief rolling off of his shoulders when you were with him.

You stood in between his legs and he rested his head against your body, allowing his arm to come around your leg and hold you close. One of your hands found their place at the base of his neck. You gently ran your fingers through his graying hair, the other hand grazing tenderly along the soft and scarred skin of his back. It was a nice and quiet moment for you both, one full of tender care as you held each other carefully like broken glass.

“Do you think you could love me for an eternity?” He asked

You smiled.

“Eternity isn’t long enough to contain all of the love I have for you, dearheart.”

He leaned back and looked into your eyes.

“Do you still mean that?”

You careened your head down forward, cocking it over to the side as your smile grew wider.

“More than ever.”

He let out a sigh of relief, as if all the worries in his life were fading away, as if he were the same man you first met all those years ago that was full of plans and ambitions, a hope for a better future for himself, for you.

You leaned down and kissed his lips gently, pulling back only enough so you could rest your forehead on his own.

“Let me take care of you.”

He smiled, chuckling at your forwardness, his blue eyes gleaming at you.

“I would like that.”

“Good.” You replied, a smile growing on your face. “Let me help you get these off and then lay back for me.”

You helped him get out of the rest of his clothes and onto the bed before removing your own and crawling over him. You pulled some of the pillows away and placed them around him where you knew he needed them, in an attempt to make him more comfortable, to prevent any more pain while he was in this position beneath you.

You sat back on his hips gently, looking down at him as he looked back up at you, his hand slid up your thigh, over every dip and curve along it, right up to your waist. You felt him squeeze you and you chuckled, leaning down over him, your face just inches apart as you gave him a mischievous grin.

“Feeling needy?”

He chuckled at you. “Don’t start that.”

“Mmm but I think I will.” You replied

You began to grind down against him, hearing his breath catch in his throat, letting out a subtle groan to the new pressure. He never took his eyes off of yours for even a second until you finally leaned down and kissed him, drinking him in like he were blood, like he were life itself.

His hand moved away from your waist and dragged slowly along your side, up your back, before finally wrapping around the back of your neck, holding you close, holding you in place against him. You hummed, a smile breaking out against his lips before he deepened this kiss even more, moving past your lips with his tongue, tasting you, consuming you.

Your urges pulled at you, the temptation to break the delicate surface of his skin still there, but your control was much better than it ever had been before. You wanted to prolong it, tease it out. So, you allowed your sharp teeth to graze against his tongue, his lips without breaking it. You read him let out a sigh of relief to the sensation, the dangerous temptation of it.

Once you’d released him from your teeth he pulled away, panting heavily as he looked up into your eyes.

“Sit on my face.” He demanded

You looked down at him with your head cocked to the side, a grin on your face.

“I thought I was supposed to be taking care of you,” you reminded him.

“Please, dearheart?”

Well, if he was asking so nicely -

“Alright, alright.” You replied with a chuckle, leaving him with one last kiss before you proceeded to climb up over him, straddling his face, and allowing him to have a mouthful of you.

His mouth was warm and inviting, tongue dancing along you slowly, making you feel nothing but soft and deliberate pleasure. Your shoulders drop, your eyes shut as a sigh of relief leaving you as the tension began to slowly melt away.

You leaned forward, gripping onto the bed frame, entangling your hand in his hair, while gasped moans escaped your throat. With every movement and every touch he made on your skin fueled you with a need for more of it. You began to grind your hips into his mouth, as if your body was making a desperate plea for more.

You opened your eyes once to look down at him below you and you could see he was looking back up at you, watching you come undone for him from above. You could see his eyes squinting as if he were smiling before he began to pick up the speed, his tongue dragging along you roughly now, coercing more of a reaction out of you, watching you crumble to pieces on his lips.

“Wes - Fuck~” you hissed

God was he merciless.

You continued to allow him to draw you closer and closer to your orgasm, panting like a wild animal, moaning out his name like a loud prayer, shouting at a god who you knew would never show you any form of mercy.

Before you would have been scared of losing control over a man who held lesser power than you, scared that you would break him.

But you had all of the control, you were self-assured that you wouldn’t hurt him.

Regardless, you allowed him to get you to the edge and quickly pulled away from his lips and sat back on his broad chest, your breathing coming out ragged and strained. He licked his lips, a mischievous look in his eyes as if he had gotten what he wanted.

Cheeky bastard.

“Again, I thought I was supposed to be taking care of you.” You stated, breathlessly.

“I just can’t help myself around you.”

You raised your eyebrow up at him, getting the inkling of an idea as he spoke. You moved again, settling over his hips once again, running your hand down his arm, sneakily moving it towards his hand.

“I know you can’t. Which is why I need to teach you a lesson.”

You pulled his hand up and pinned it above his head before proceeding to dive down into the crook of his neck, attacking him with kisses and hickies, leaving behind subtle rosy marks all along his skin.

“That’s not fair.” He laughed, his hand squeezing yours.

“It’s more than fair.” You teased, tightening your grip and dragging your lips down his body even more.

You felt him raise his hips into yours, grinding against you, trying to desperately release some of the tension he was feeling. You moved your lips away from his body and looked into his eyes once again.

“Tell me how much you want me.”

He stared up at you, a grin plastered across his face, the true dedicated honesty was evident in every word he spoke next.

“I want you, entirely, wholly. You are irrevocably mine. I need you more than you could ever know.”

That was it - you couldn’t stop yourself now. You delved back down, your lips connecting with his once again, your tongue breaking past the barrier of it and into his mouth, as you began to grind your hips harder against him, feeling how hard he was beneath you, the groans that left him in the slight relief of being in contact with your body like this.

You loved having him like this, feeling his body against yours through every delicate or rough touch. You craved him as much as he craved you, you were both lost within each other, searching for an anchor to hold on, a place to take hold in the midst of every raging emotion that was spurring within you.

You left his lips and reached over him to the drawer, fumbling about to find that special bottle of lube he’d concocted and applying it to you both. You grinded against him some more, feeling yourself grow more sensitive as you continued, dragging out the tension until he was begging for some relief through gritted teeth.

“Please. I need you. Now.” He begged, breathlessly.

You smiled, quickly moving to hover over him. You couldn’t help it, he looked and sounded so god damn good like this.

You hand around his cock, lubing it up once more, positioning it against you as you slowly took him in. You felt his hand grip tightly onto your thigh, the air seething out of him as you took him entirely. You gave yourself a second to adjust before you finally began to rock your hips, slowly and he was already incredibly vocal as his head rolled back, eyes closed shut.

The moans spilled out of him like waves past his lips, your name floating along the river of desperation and need that was pouring out of him. You began to pick up the pace, feeling spurred on to coerce more from him. Your urges were pulled to the front and you found yourself indulging in every sensation, in every sound, in every touch. He felt so fucking good, stretching you out in the way you loved, your own voice just as desperate for more of him, for more pleasure. You were enjoying every second of having him under you like this, making him feel loved and cared for in so many different ways.

You noticed Wesker open his eyes again, placing his hand behind his head, letting you have full control of him. His eyes connected with yours, unwavering from yours. They conveyed so many emotions that he was feeling, so many you had seen time and time again, but you could never get enough of. As much as you enjoyed having him below, you knew he was enjoying the view of you on top of him and he didn’t want to miss another moment of it.

“You look so good like this.” He’d praise

He knew how to keep you on every lingering glance, on every word he spoke, pulling you along because you were his and he was yours.

You weren’t immune to the power he still held over you - no longer by infection but by something entirely different. It was emotional and it felt deeper than anything the virus could have ever given you. His words spurred you on more, and you leaned back down to kiss him.You held onto his forearm as if he were a lifeline through the haze, through everything you had experienced up until this point, through all the pain, the hardships, the sadness, through everything it had taken to just survive. He pulled you through it all and you felt the bloody wave of overwhelming emotions slam into you, encompassing you.

He was your lifeline and you were his.

A connection that would never die out, a line that could never be cut, not even by death.

You felt everything rising within you, the urges pulling at you even more than they had been, the need to take a bite, the need to consume him. He recognized it and turned his head to the side, giving you perfect access.

“Are you sure?” You asked breathlessly

“I can take it.” He replied

You dipped your head down into the crook of his neck and gently kissed him once more before pricking the surface, allowing your teeth to sink deeper and deeper into him, spilling his blood in your mouth, tasting every sweet morsel of it on your tongue. He groaned through the pleasure filled pain and you felt it on your lips. You drank him in as if he were the ambrosia of the dead, as if it were the first time you tasted him. He was sweet, it was metallic, every last drop of it molded to perfection as it filled you with life and lust. He felt and tasted like heaven to you. He was everything you had dreamed of and more.

The wave of pleasure hit you in the midst of it and you released him from your teeth, your moans spilling out as your body shook violently against him. You heard a moan leave him as well, the heat within you filling you up as he came with you.

You collapsed over him, being careful not to hurt him in the process. The both of you laid there with your foreheads pressed together, catching your breath in the aftermath of it all, peering into each other's eyes with all of the love and adoration for one another.

You slowly licked your lips, tasting the last drops of blood that danced on your tongue. He looked at you with a smile on his face, his blue eyes shining with pure, unadulterated happiness.

“I told you I’m not afraid of the Devil’s teeth.”

Chapter Thirty: Afterlife

Regards from the Author

#series: the devils teeth #the devils teeth #resident evil fic #resident evil fanfiction #albert wesker #resident evil #resident evil 5 #this one is also the beginning of #resident evil 7 #if you squint at the doc he’s looking at #albert wesker x you #re wesker #wesker #dbd wesker #dead by daylight wesker #wesker x reader #albert wesker x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #disabled wesker

[phoenix-flamed]

Okay, so while I'm going on tangent after tangent about Thoughts on Stuff and Things, I want to real quick talk about my thoughts and views on the Northern Territories, and the stark contrast between how Elwin + Rosaria treated them compared to Sylvestre and Anabella + Sanbreque.

As always, these are just my thoughts, so please take them with a grain of salt, and don't worry if you don't agree! (But like always, I'm happy to hear other opinions/perspectives/etc., and if I have any information wrong, please also feel free to correct me!)

Without further ado, here we go! (I'll put this under a Read More in case it gets too long.)

So Rosaria's conflicts with The Northern Territories date back quite a while, to no one's surprise. This'll become relevant later, I promise. The tribes of the north have always been rowdy and aggressive, by the sounds of it -- at least as far as the in-game lore notes regarding them. Several years into Elwin's reign as Archduke, the Northern Territories pushed an advance upon Rosarian soil. I tend to speculate it's because of desperation; with the Blight creeping across more and more of their land, and their Mothercrystal dead, it's no wonder they'd be growing more restless. Elwin and his soldiers pushed back against them, drove them back up north, and it was Elwin himself who dealt the "decisive blow" against Silvermane.

But that blow wasn't really a blow at all, comparatively speaking.

Elwin didn't force Silvermane and their tribes to submit to Rosarian rule. He didn't kill Silvermane to send a message to everyone not to mess with Rosaria, and he certainly didn't decimate the tribes in order to end their threat to Rosaria once and for all. The in-game lore describes Elwin's actions as having "pacified" the tribes, and "unified" them. This, to me, sounds like he strove to seek a peaceable solution to the problem, rather than an aggressive one. He calmed them down, and he brought the different tribes together so that they might work as one, and it's my personal speculation that he did that with the intention of helping them with their plight, rather than subjugating them.

His decision to take Jill to Rosalith with him is nonetheless, to me, an asshole move, but from a political and military standpoint, I can see why he would go that route, especially if he's trying for peaceable solutions. But while I understand the potential logic of why he might have done it, I don't personally agree with it.

Rosaria, at the game's start, has been aiding the north with their ever-growing problem of the Blight's spread. Not only have they been offering resources to them, but they've been taking in refugees as well, both of which have started putting strain upon Rosaria itself. Especially with the Blight creeping ever closer to the duchy as well. But this post isn't meant to be about whether or not aiding other nations in crisis is a good or bad move -- so back on track we go! Elwin may have been dedicated to preserving and defending what Rosaria already had in terms of land(excluding the attempts at finally taking Drake's Breath back from the Iron Kingdom), and prioritized their people over the territory itself, he also seemed to believe in helping others in need as well. Despite the long-standing history of fighting with the Northern Territories, Elwin chose to help them, rather than abandon them.

Now, on the other side of the fence, you have Sanbreque. Sylvestre makes it clear early on that he prioritizes a nation's land over its people, because people can easily be replaced. This is a sentiment that Anabella, during the scene where Clive and Jill confront her, reveals that she shares with Sylvestre, and one of the reasons why she and Elwin were so drastically at odds. Their views on how the duchy should be ruled and what should be prioritized were, essentially, opposites, and by being opposites, they opposed one-another.

After Rosaria was taken over by Sanbreque, Sanbreque decided to leave the Northern Territories to rot. This is pure speculation, but I tend to think it's because of that sentiment regarding land versus people; considering the north has all but completely been consumed by the Blight, their land is of no use to the Holy Empire, and thus are the tribes there completely and utterly useless in their eyes. Now, the second lore tidbit in-game, as far as I recall, states that the north was indeed abandoned by Sanbreque. But we find out through one of the sidequests that Gav is from the Northern Territories. Through him, we find out that the Imperials went into the north and slaughtered its inhabitants. Gav's family was victim to one of these purgings, including his little sibling that had been born just the day before. Gav was the only survivor of this.

Doubling back to the purpose of this post, the difference between how Elwin and Rosaria viewed and treated the north, and how Sylvestre + Anabella and Sabreque seemed to view and treat the north, is staggering in my opinion. It also, again in my opinion, demonstrates well their different styles of ruling. And unfortunately, it's the people of places like the Northern Territories and the Crystalline Dominion that get caught in the crossfire of the resulting power struggles of places like Sanbreque. Conversely, it's the people of Rosaria that end up in need when it comes to rulers like Elwin, who, despite prioritizing the people over the land, overextend their hand in terms of aid, to the detriment of their own people.

Hello, my name is Vonny. I have a lot of feelings about stuff, and in this essay I will --

#Headcanons #So about that tag dedicated to analysis posts...

[ichig00]

Tough

Piers Nivans x Reader

"Why are you here again?" The agent asked, annoyed by the presence of Piers beside her as they stealthily walked towards the entrance of the metal door surrounding by the greens and browns of the forest that could lead up to the laboratory.

"Ask Chris that." Piers answered, his gun in his hand. His eyes lingered around the forest and landed to the woman beside him. He couldn't help but smile. He definitely knows that his feelings could bring danger upon him and the others, so his lips turned into a thin line as he looked away.

"Are you sure you can do this?" Chris asked Jill, worried creeping on him as flashes of her in danger rushed in his mind. He's afraid that he couldn't do anything again to save her, he's afraid that things could happen again and he wasn't able to do anything but watch.

Jill rolled her eyes. "How many times will you ask that?" Tired from Chris repeating the same question for the passing time now.

They entered the metal door with caution, metal floors, and icy walls greeted to them as they silently walked in. Dragging themselves deeper to the lab, they found a white hallway filled with nothing but another huge two automatic door by the end of it.

"That leads to the main laboratory." Jill stated, pointing at the door by the end of the hallway.

"Let's get it going then." Leon said and took his steps towards the tile, shifting down triggering alarms around the hall. They all looked at each other as half of the left wall burst open, revealing a gigantic BOW with wide mandibles open, letting out a scream, making them cover their ears.

"Shit!" Leon screamed as it started to run towards them, Piers immediately pulled the woman beside her. He pulled her towards the empty left hall that they come passed by, as Jill and the two men went in the right hall.

"Piers we're gonna be fuck here!" She screamed as the hall led them to dead end. "No!" He screamed back and kicked the vent open that is below the right wall. They immediately crawled in before the BOW could reach them.

Adrenaline pumping through their veins, breathing the tight air in as they crawled their way through the vent before coming to the end of it.

She kicked the vent open and went out, followed by Piers. They look around the area they have stumbled upon. They found themselves in the middle of some huge test tubes where other creatures were kept in, unconscious but surely alive.

"Okay.. no wrong moves." She whispered, looking back at Piers with her hand gesturing. Piers nodded at her quietly, meeting her eyes.

His heart beat raised up as he found hers, glad that he got her out of harm. He was terrified there, but he didn't show, especially the real reason why he's terrified.

"Do you think they'll be fine?" She asked him, worried about her partner who might be in danger. Piers didn't bother to think and nodded right away to ease her worries.

"Yes. They know what they're doing." He added, his eyes still locked in her gaze. He couldn't seem to pull away from it, like he's being pulled in closer.

She stared back in, trying to read him. His reason why he's staring, his reason why his immediate response is to pull her away. However, she shook her head, looking away, shaking her thoughts that's been building up.

It was definitely nothing.

"Let's find our way back." She turned her back to him and started to wander around the place. He sighed and followed her.

"How the fuck are we gonna get out of this?" She states, seeing the cold metal door tightly shut with it's own security system.

"Let's keep looking." Piers stated while his eyes were all over the place. She nodded in response and kept looking around. 

The area where the Umbrella has been keeping their BOWs are extremely huge for them to be explored alone. It is dangerous to be wandering around by ones, so they have decided that splitting up was never an option to this kind of dangerous situations.

"I see some controls here." Piers frown, looking down to the huge amount of buttons in front of him.

"That's too many." She commented with a grimmace on her face as she stood near beside Piers. Piers heart thumps loudly in his cage. Calming down was difficult for him to do when she's this close. Despite his uncontrollable heart beating, he admires her.

How could such a wonderful thing be lost in this cruel side of life?

"You're staring." She caught him off guard by looking up and speaking. His eyes finally met hers, blood creeping in his cheeks as he adjusted his checkered scarf while embarrassment filled his head in.

"I'm not." Of course he would deny, she rolled her eyes playfully as her lip curled upwards. There's definitely something here, she thought to herself.

"Hmm... someone has a crush." She teases as she hummed, poking Piers arms lightly. He tried to frown toward her and put up his stoic face but failed as he ended up smiling to her teases.

"You must be dreaming." Piers still stood his ground and defend himself with all the teases she's tossing him. She rolled her eyes once again with a light smile on her face.

"I wish I am." Her smile turned small as she looked away, looking back down to the control system in front of them.

He couldn't help but stare at her for a second as her mood changed so as the atmosphere around her, he looked away immediately to focus on their task.

"Wrong button, wrong door." She stated, looking back to all the locked up creatures behind them. Her eyes met his again, and he nodded and swallowed in response.

They are definitely walking around the egg shells. One wrong move could lead to numerous disasters.

"Oh look, there are small numbers above the buttons." She added, pointing above the buttons. "The door seems to have a number, too." Piers replied as he walked over near the door, looking up to the plate where the numbers of the door were. The two last numbers of the doors are blocked out.

"It's blocked." He added before going back to her. She sighed in response, putting a hand on her hips in disappointment.

"There’s many numbers here. It could be anything!" She complained, frustrated as she stared down all the numbers above the buttons.

"Relax. We'll find our way." Piers comforted her, walking near her as he put a hand on her shoulder to calm her down. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes before breathing out. Piers couldn't help himself as his lips turned upward, forming a smile.

"The two numbers we have are 7 and 2." Piers spoke again once he saw the lady settled down and calmed herself already. Walking back to where he was earlier, looking above the door.

"And we have..." Piers scanned the numbers down the panel once he got back beside her, carefully checking each number that starts with 7 and 2. She helped him count the numbers, silently scanning the buttons. Focusing and carefully observing everything in the control system.

After minutes, they found five sets of numbers that started with 72. One of the button can unlock the door, and the rest could release creatures, so they have to choose a wise decision and observe everything.

"Do you want to split up?" She asked Piers, looking around the monitor to locate the tubes they needed to check to confirm the numbers they have found. Piers frown before speaking.

"I thought that was out of the question." Looking down to her, Piers met her eyes, she pursed her lips. "It would be faster if we did it that way." She replied with a shrugged before started walking towards the near container. Piers sighed and went to the other direction to check out the other two tubes.

"Hey! The other one has a number blocked on it!" He heard from afar as her voice echoes around the area.

"There's one here, too!" He shouted back and met with her at the control panel.

"So I have: 7205 and 721 and blank." She stated as Piers ran towards her. "What I have is: 7234 and 72, and the other two are blocked." He stated the information he got from the other side.

"I think I got it." She muttered and looked for the button she assumed that could open the door. Piers stepped aside, observing her moves with a confused look on his face.

Without passing another minute, she pressed a button in the middle of the control panel. She was startled by the beep that rang across the room as the door that led the way out opened majestically.

She breathed a sighed of relief, her eyes light up and lips curling into a huge and proud smile. Piers lips agape opened, shocked by how this woman can solve a ridiculous puzzle within just a minute. He was overly impressed by her intelligence.

She looked up to him with a prideful smile. "See, easy." A proud voice rang in Piers ears, as if she wasn't under frustration earlier.

"How did you even do that?" He asked, still shocked as he looked up to the door and back to the smart woman beside her.

"Hmm... These numbers here only count 1 to 9. Our set of numbers only has 1 to 7, and the numbers 6, 8, and 9 are missing. I figured that the other tubes have 6, 8, and 9 in their set of numbers, so there's a huge possibility that the door have 8 and 9 to it's set which is what we found earlier." She explained, her hands pointing from the button back to the door that is now widely open.

His eyes lit up at how incredible and fast thinking this woman is. "Why I haven't thought of that?" He muttered, making her giggled lightly.

"I have more braincell than you." She teased as she turned her back to him, Piers chuckled to her insult. If it's another person would say that to him right in the face, maybe his knuckles would already be planted at the person's face.

But he just let her.

"Come on, Piers!" She waved to Piers as she stood in front of the metal door. She beamed at him from afar, proud that she impressed the man she's with.

"Alright, calm down." Piers jog towards her with gun on his hand, but before he could even get near her something came shooting from the door. Grazing the woman's skin, she hissed as she felt a sharp object in her skin as she jumped to the side of the door to cover herself.

Piers leaned at the wall beside the door, readying his guns as the woman across did the same.

"Fuck, it's a BOW!" She stated, looking down to her thigh where it scraped her skin.

"This would do!" Piers shouted and threw a grenade to the mutated 'iguana like' creature one's it stopped shooting its own sharp like bone. killing it as it explodes.

They both sigh, pulling out from their hiding spot as they walk out of the door, making sure that the creature is completely dead.

She let out a loud and shaky break, catching Piers' attention. Her eyes are darted in her scrape that's been bleeding lightly as her hand found its way to cover it.

"Are you okay?" Piers asked worriedly, reaching for her arm to bring comfort. She looked up to him, eyes starting to shade in red as her breathing increased more than normal.

"Piers.." she lost her balance as her consciousness left her body, Piers immediately laid his arms to catch her.

He immediately searched for her pulse and let out a shaky breath upon finding out that she's still alive but unconscious and definitely infected. He lightly tapped her cheeks and called out her name to bring her to response, but nothing came out of her.

"Shit! hang in there, smart girl."

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