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hd-junglebook · 14 days

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Falling For It

Part 7 - Word Count 5647

This is kind of a longer one than normal, but I have served a late-night snack that should keep you occupied.

Y/N walked into the patient's room, a warm smile on her face as she greeted the elderly woman lying in the bed. "Good morning, Mrs. Johnson. How are we feeling today?"

The woman, who had to be at least 80 years old, squinted up at Y/N, her wrinkled face scrunching into a scowl. "How do you think I'm feeling? I'm stuck in this godforsaken hospital with a bunch of people poking and prodding at me all day long."

Y/N bit back a laugh, used to Mrs. Johnson's cantankerous demeanor. "Well, I'm here to check your vitals and make sure everything is looking good. Can you sit up for me, please?"

Mrs. Johnson grumbled under her breath but complied, pushing herself up into a sitting position. As Y/N wrapped the blood pressure cuff around her arm, the old woman eyed her suspiciously.

"You're too pretty to be a doctor," she said bluntly, her gaze sweeping over Y/N's face. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head in amusement. "I'm a nurse aide, actually. And yes, I'm quite sure I know what I'm doing. I've been doing this for a few years now."

Mrs. Johnson harrumphed, clearly unconvinced. "Well, just don't go trying to set me up with any of those young whippersnappers you call doctors. I'm too old for that nonsense."

Y/N nearly choked on her laughter, her eyes widening in surprise. "I wouldn't dream of it, Mrs. Johnson. Your heart belongs to Mr. Johnson, I'm sure."

The old woman's face softened, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Damn right it does. He may be gone, but he's still the only man for me."

Y/N felt a pang of envy at the love and devotion in Mrs. Johnson's voice. She wondered if she would ever find that kind of love, the kind that lasted a lifetime and beyond.

Shaking off the thought, she finished taking Mrs. Johnson's vitals and jotted down the numbers on her chart. "Everything looks good, Mrs. Johnson. Is there anything else I can do for you before I go?"

The old woman thought for a moment, her brow furrowing in concentration. "Well, you could find me a decent cup of coffee in this place. The stuff they serve here tastes like dishwater."

Y/N laughed, nodding in agreement. "I'll see what I can do. Maybe I can smuggle in a cup from the cafeteria for you."

Mrs. Johnson's face lit up, a mischievous glint in her eye. "I knew I liked you, kid. Just don't let those doctors catch you. They're a bunch of sticks in the mud."

Y/N grinned, giving the old woman a conspiratorial wink. "Your secret is safe with me, Mrs. Johnson. I'll be back later with that coffee."

With that, she turned and headed out of the room, a smile still playing on her lips. Despite Mrs. Johnson's gruff exterior, Y/N had a soft spot for the old woman. She reminded her of her own grandmother, with her sharp wit and no-nonsense attitude.

Y/N pulled her hair out of its bun, running her hands down the sides to slick it back before she walked down the sterile hallway of the hospital, her footsteps echoing off the linoleum floors.

As she rounded the corner, she nearly collided with one of her coworkers, a handsome doctor named Ethan. He reached out to steady her, his hand lingering on her arm for a moment longer than necessary.

"Whoa there," he said, a charming smile spreading across his face. "You okay?"

Y/N nodded, feeling a blush creep up her neck at his touch. "Yeah, sorry about that. Just lost in thought, I guess."

Ethan chuckled, his green eyes sparkling with mirth. "No worries. It happens to the best of us." He paused, his gaze sweeping over her appreciatively. "You look stunning today, by the way." Y/N felt her heart skip a beat at the compliment, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Thanks," she said softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Ethan hesitated for a moment, as if gathering his courage, before speaking again. "Listen, I've been wanting to ask you something for a while now." He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto hers. "Would you like to go out with me sometime? Maybe grab dinner or a drink after work?"

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her mind reeling at the unexpected invitation. A part of her wanted to say yes, to throw caution to the wind and take a chance on something new. But even as she opened her mouth to respond, an image of Jack flashed through her mind, his piercing blue eyes and crooked smile sending a pang of longing through her chest.

She hesitated, torn between the desire to move on and the lingering feelings she still held for Jack. It had been a week since that fateful night at the lake house, a week since she had watched him kiss Lexi and felt her heart shatter into a million pieces. But despite her best efforts to forget him, to push him out of her mind and her heart, she found that he was still there, lurking in the shadows of her thoughts.

"I..." she began, her voice trailing off as she struggled to find the right words. "I'm flattered, really. But I don't think it's a good idea."

Ethan's smile faltered, disappointment flickering in his eyes. "Oh. Okay, no problem. I understand."

Y/N felt a twinge of guilt at the hurt in his voice, but she knew she was making the right decision. She couldn't lead him on, couldn't pretend to be interested when her heart belonged to someone else.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. "It's not you, I promise. I'm just... not ready for something like that right now."

Ethan nodded, his smile returning, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "No worries. I get it." He glanced at his watch, a rueful chuckle escaping his lips. "I should probably get back to my rounds anyway. I'll see you around, Y/N."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Y/N standing alone in the hallway, her thoughts swirling with confusion and regret. She knew she had done the right thing, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she was missing out on something, that by holding onto her feelings for Jack, she was letting life pass her by.

But even as she tried to push the thought away, she knew that it was no use. Jack had left an indelible mark on her heart, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't seem to erase it. With a sigh, she turned and headed back to her patients, determined to focus on her work and push all thoughts of Jack and Ethan out of her mind.

…

Y/N walked out of the hospital, her mind still reeling from her encounter with Ethan. She made her way to the parking garage, her footsteps echoing off the concrete walls. The garage was mostly empty at this time of day, with only a few scattered cars parked here and there. Y/N reached her own car, a small, sensible sedan that had seen better days, and unlocked the door with a sigh.

Sliding into the driver's seat, she closed the door behind her and leaned back against the headrest, her eyes fluttering shut. It had been a long day, and she could feel the exhaustion settling into her bones. She knew she should start the car and head home, but for a moment, she just wanted to sit and breathe.

Her phone buzzed from inside her lunch bag, startling her out of her reverie. She reached for the bag, rummaging through its contents until she found her phone. When she saw who the message was from, she felt her heart sink.

It was from Quinn, and she could already guess what it was about. He had been texting her all week, ever since the disastrous night at the lake house. He was still furious about what had happened between Jack and Lexi, and he had been taking out his anger on anyone who would listen.

Y/N hesitated for a moment before opening the message, bracing herself for the inevitable onslaught of anger and frustration.

"I can't believe he did that to you," the message read. "After everything you two have been through together. He's a fool if he thinks Lexi is better than you."

Y/N sighed, her fingers hovering over the screen as she tried to think of a response. She knew Quinn meant well, but his constant reminders of that night were starting to wear down on her. She just wanted to move on, to forget about Jack and Lexi and everything that had happened.

But she knew it wasn't that simple.

She typed out a quick response, thanking Quinn for his support. As she hit send, she leaned back in her seat once more, her gaze drifting out the window. The sun was starting to set, casting an orange glow over the parking garage. It was a beautiful sight, but Y/N couldn't seem to appreciate it.

With a sigh, she started the car and pulled out of the parking space.

…

Hugo's relentless purring filled the room, a comforting background noise to y/n's blissful slumber. Curled up in her blanket cocoon, she snored softly, oblivious to the world around her. Meanwhile, Hugo, the brown tabby cat, lay at the foot of her bed, methodically grooming himself for the third time that evening.

Outside y/n's bedroom, shuffling footsteps and muttered curses echoed through the quiet house, signaling the start of another restless night. Y/n peeked out from under her blanket, her one eye cracked open as she surveyed the empty room. With a grumble, she readjusted herself, sinking deeper into the warmth of her cocoon.

Y/N's peaceful slumber was suddenly interrupted by the loud bang of her bedroom door slamming against the wall. She jolted awake, her heart racing as she let out a startled squeal. Hugo leaped off the bed in a blur of brown fur, alarmed by the sudden commotion.

As Y/N's sleep-addled brain tried to make sense of what was happening, she heard familiar voices filling the room. Peeking out from her cozy blanket cocoon, Heather and Angie, standing in the doorway with grins on their faces.

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead!" Angie exclaimed, her voice far too chipper for whatever ungodly hour it was. "We've got plans today, and you're not going to waste away in bed!"

Y/N groaned, pulling the blanket back over her head in a futile attempt to block out the intrusion. "Go away," she mumbled, her voice muffled by the layers of fabric. "I'm hibernating."

Heather laughed, the sound far too gleeful for Y/N's liking. "Oh no, you don't," she said, marching over to the bed and yanking the blanket away. "You've been rotting and doom scrolling for a week and it's time to get out and have some fun."

Y/N squinted up at her friends, her eyes still bleary with sleep. "I don't want to have fun," she whined, making a grab for the blanket. "I want to stay here and wallow in my misery." Her friends exchanged amused glances, clearly used to her morning grumpiness. Angie chuckled.

"Come on, Y/N, you can't spend all day in bed. We've got plans!"

With a dramatic sigh, Y/N reluctantly pushed the covers aside and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She glanced over at Hugo, who was peeking out from under the dresser with wide, curious eyes. Smiling, she scooped him up and gave him a quick cuddle before setting him back down on the bed.

"Wish Jack luck, buddy," she said, giving him a scratch behind the ears. "I think he’s going to need it."

…

The bass thumped through the soles of Y/N's strappy heels as she stepped into the dimly lit club, Angie and Heather flanking her sides. The air was thick with the mingled scents of sweat, alcohol, and expensive perfume, and the dance floor was already packed with writhing bodies moving to the pulsing beat.

Y/N tugged at the hem of her skintight mini skirt, the black leather barely grazing her upper thighs. She had paired it with a deep red corset top that cinched her waist and pushed up her cleavage, the lacy fabric and her makeup smoky and seductive.

"Damn, girl!" Angie whistled appreciatively, her eyes raking over Y/N's curves. "You look like you're ready to break some hearts tonight."

Y/N grinned, striking a playful pose. "That's the plan, babe.” Heather laughed, linking her arm through Y/N's. The trio made their way to the bar after saying hello to the boys, Y/N could feel the eyes of the other clubgoers on them, appreciative glances and envious stares following their every move.

It was a heady feeling, knowing that she was turning heads and commanding attention. As they reached the bar, Y/N leaned forward, flagging down the bartender with a coy smile. "Three vodka cranberries, please," she purred, batting her lashes for good measure.

The bartender, a handsome man with a chiseled jaw and piercing blue eyes, grinned back at her. "Coming right up.” Y/N preened at the attention, feeling a rush of confidence surge through her.

As the bartender slid their drinks across the counter, Y/N took a sip, savoring the tart burst of cranberry on her tongue. She turned to her friends, raising her glass in a toast. They downed their drinks in unison, the alcohol buzzing through their veins and adding an extra shimmer to their already glowing skin.

As they set their empty glasses back on the bar, a new song came on, the beat even more infectious than the last. Y/N felt it thrumming through her body, urging her to move, to lose herself in the music and the moment.

She grabbed Heather's hand, tugging her towards the dance floor. "Come on, let's dance!" Heather laughed, allowing herself to be pulled into the fray. Angie followed close behind, her hips already swaying to the rhythm.

y/n raised her arms above her head, her hips swiveling and rolling in time with the beat. She could feel the eyes of the men around her, could sense their hunger and appreciation, but she paid them no mind.

…

Once the song came to an end, Y/N, Angie, and Heather made their way off the dance floor, their skin glistening with a sheen of sweat. They weaved through the crowd, heading towards the table where their friends were seated.

Nico, Jack, Marino, and Dawson were already deep in conversation, a collection of empty glasses scattered across the tabletop. They looked up as the girls approached, their eyes widening appreciatively at the sight of them.

"Well, well, well," Nico drawled, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Look what the cat dragged in." Y/N rolled her eyes, sliding into the booth beside him. Y/N couldn't help but smirk at Nico's playful banter.

"Shut up, Nico. You know you missed us." She stated, shooting him a teasing glare before turning her attention to the others, her gaze meeting Jack's across the table. Marino chuckled, raising his glass in a mock toast.

"To the beautiful ladies of the evening," he declared, his words slightly slurred. "May they never leave us lonely again."

Angie snorted, snatching the glass from his hand and taking a sip. "Thanks, Marino," Y/N replied with a laugh, raising her own glass in response. "But I make no promises about future loneliness." Jack chuckled, his voice low and warm as he leaned back in his seat.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” he said, his gaze lingering on Y/N for a moment longer than strictly necessary.

Nico and Marino exchanged knowing glances, their lips quirking into sly smiles as they observed the interaction. Heather nudged Y/N discreetly, her eyebrows raised in silent encouragement.

Everyone fell into easy conversation, Y/N couldn't help but notice Jack's eyes on her, his gaze intense and unwavering. She tried to ignore him, focusing instead on the story Dawson was telling about his latest game. She felt a flutter of nerves in her stomach, but she held his gaze steadily, refusing to show any sign of weakness.

But Jack was persistent, leaning across the table to catch her attention. "Can we talk?" Jack's voice was soft, almost pleading, his eyes searching hers for an answer. Y/N felt a rush of emotions swirling inside her, uncertainty mingled with a hint of anticipation.

Y/N hesitated, a frown tugging at her lips. She glanced around the table, noticing for the first time that a certain blonde was conspicuously absent. "Where's Lexi?" she asked, her tone carefully neutral.

Jack sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I told her not to come."

Y/N's eyebrow arched higher, a skeptical expression crossing her features as she processed Jack's words. "Interesting," she mused, her tone laced with skepticism. "So, what? You're playing mediator now?"

Jack's gaze softened, a flicker of remorse flashing in his eyes. "Not exactly," he admitted, his voice tinged with regret. "She was your best friend, and she hurt Quinn's feelings."

Y/N couldn't help but scoff, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "Mhmm."

Jack leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table as he fixed her with an imploring look. "I know you're mad at me. Just let me fix this, let me talk to you. I know I don't deserve that tonight, and maybe I shouldn't be here either, but..."

Y/N held up a hand, cutting him off mid-sentence. A wicked idea had taken root in her mind, a way to make Jack squirm, to make him feel even a fraction of the hurt and confusion she had been grappling with.

She leaned back in her seat, a devious smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. "No, you should stay," she purred, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

Jack blinked, clearly taken aback by her sudden change in demeanor. "Really?"

Y/N nodded, picking up her glass and taking a long, deliberate sip. She could feel the eyes of the rest of the group on her, could sense their confusion and anticipation. But she paid them no mind, her focus solely on Jack. She stood up from the table, her movements slow and sinuous, her hips swaying with every step.

"Enjoy your night, Jack," she said, her voice a husky whisper. "I know I will."

With that, she turned on her heel and sauntered away, leaving a stunned Jack in her wake. She could feel his eyes boring into her back, could sense the weight of his gaze on her every curve and sway.

Suddenly, she felt a hand on her waist, a strong grip steadying her as she stumbled. She looked up, her eyes meeting a pair of deep brown ones, a mischievous glint sparkling in their depths. "Careful there, gorgeous," the stranger said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine. "Wouldn't want you to fall for anyone else tonight."

Y/N couldn't help but laugh. "You look like fun," she said, her fingers curling around the collar of his shirt, tugging him closer.

The stranger grinned, his hands tightening on her waist as he allowed her to pull him into the center of the dance floor. The crowd parted around them, the sea of bodies closing in once more as they found their rhythm.

From his spot at the table, Jack watched the exchange with narrowed eyes, his jaw clenched tight. He saw the way the stranger's hands lingered on Y/N's curves, the way he leaned in close to whisper in her ear, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of her neck.

It took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to march over there and tear the guy away from her, to finish the conversation they had started earlier. But Marinos hand on his shoulder held him back, a silent reminder that he had lost the right to interfere in Y/N's life.

Still, he couldn't tear his gaze away, couldn't ignore the jealousy burning in his gut as he watched Y/N dance with the stranger. Her hips swayed to the beat, her arms raised above her head as she lost herself in the music. The stranger's hands roamed her body, sliding down to cup her ass, pulling her flush against him.

Y/N didn't seem to mind, a coy smile playing at her lips as she ground her hips against his. She ran her fingers through the stranger's hair, tugging lightly at the strands as she leaned in close, her lips brushing the shell of his ear.

Jack's hands clenched into fists at his sides, his nails digging into his palms hard enough to leave marks. He knew he had no right to be angry, no right to feel possessive over a woman he had hurt so deeply.

But seeing her with someone else, watching her give herself over to the heat and the passion of the moment, it was a special kind of torture, a punishment he knew he deserved. He forced himself to look away, to focus on the conversation happening around him. But his mind was miles away, lost in memories of the way Y/N's body had once moved against his own, the way her lips had tasted, the sound of her laughter in his ear.

He had taken it all for granted, had thrown it away for a fleeting moment of temptation. And now, watching her dance with a stranger, watching her come alive in a way he hadn't seen in weeks, he knew that he would do anything to win her back.

Even if it meant swallowing his pride and admitting the truth.

Jack sat at the table, his eyes glued to Y/N and the stranger on the dance floor. He couldn't help but scoff as he watched the guy's hands roam over her body, his lips curled in a sneer. "Who does this guy think he is?" he muttered, taking a swig of his beer. "He's all over her like some kind of octopus."

Nico leaned in, squinting at the dance floor. "Wait a minute," he said, his eyes widening in recognition. "Isn't that Matt Rempe? From the Rangers?"

Jack's head snapped up, his gaze zeroing in on the stranger's face. Sure enough, it was none other than his longtime rival, the star player of the Rangers hockey team.

A surge of anger coursed through his veins, his grip tightening on his beer bottle. The Jersey Devils and the Rangers had been at each other's throats for years, their rivalry the stuff of legend. And now, seeing Matt Rempe with his hands all over Y/N, it was like a slap in the face, a personal insult he couldn't ignore.

Jack stood up abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. His eyes scanned the club, searching for something, anything to take his mind off the sight of Y/N in Matt's arms.

And then he saw her.

A girl, standing at the edge of the dance floor, her hair the same rich shade as Y/N's, her body curved in all the right places. She was a dead ringer for the woman he liked, a doppelganger in every sense of the word.

Without a second thought, Jack made his way over to her, his strides purposeful and determined. He tapped her on the shoulder, flashing his most charming smile when she turned around. "Hey there," he said, his voice low and inviting. "I couldn't help but notice you from across the room. wanna dance?"

The girl's eyes widened, a flattered smile spreading across her face. "I'd love to," she said, taking his hand and allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor. Jack pulled her close, his hands settling on her hips as they began to move to the music. He made sure to position them in Y/N's line of sight, his eyes locking with hers over the girl's shoulder.

Y/N was still dancing with Matt, her back pressed against his chest, his hands splayed across her stomach. But her gaze was fixed on Jack, her eyes narrowed, her lips pressed into a thin line.

Jack smirked, leaning down to whisper something in the girl's ear. She giggled, her head falling back against his shoulder, her body melting into his. He could feel Y/N's stare boring into him, could sense the anger and jealousy radiating off her in waves. And he reveled in it, a twisted sense of satisfaction unfurling in his chest.

Two could play at this game.

He spun the girl around, dipping her low, his hand splayed across the small of her back. She gasped, her arms winding around his neck, her body arching into his. Y/N couldn't take it anymore. The sight of Jack with that girl, his hands all over her, his eyes locked on Y/N's with a cruel, taunting gleam, it was too much to bear. She mumbled a quick excuse to Matt, pulling away from his embrace and making a beeline for the exit.

She burst through the doors, the cool night air hitting her flushed skin like a balm. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside her.

Behind her, she heard the sound of footsteps, and she spun around to see Jack rushing out after her. He had a panicked look on his face, as if he had just realized the gravity of what he had done.

"Y/N, wait," he called out, his voice desperate.

Y/N scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Explain what, Jack? How you were just using that poor girl to get back at me? How you couldn't stand to see me happy, even for a moment?"

Jack ran a hand through his hair, his fingers tugging at the strands in frustration. His shoulders were tense, hunched up to his ears as if he were bracing himself for a blow. "That's not what I was doing," he argued, his voice strained with the effort of keeping his emotions in check.

"I was just..." He trailed off, his eyes searching Y/N's face, pleading for understanding. "I saw you with Matt, and I couldn't stand it. It was like something inside me snapped. I lost control."

He took a step closer, his hands twitching at his sides as if he were fighting the urge to reach out and touch her. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Y/N. I swear, that was never my intention. I just..." He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "I miss you. I miss us. And seeing you with him, seeing you in his arms, laughing at his jokes... it made me crazy. It made me feel like I was losing you all over again."

Y/N sighed, the anger that had been burning in her chest sputtering out like a candle flame deprived of oxygen. "I miss you too, Jack," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "More than I ever thought possible."

Jack hung his head, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of his shame were physically pressing down on him. "I know," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "And I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so damn sorry. I never meant for things to get this twisted, this messed up. I never meant to hurt you like this."

Y/N took a step forward, closing the distance between them until she could feel the heat of his body radiating against her skin. Slowly, tentatively, she reached up and cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing over the stubble that shadowed his jaw. "I know you didn't," she said softly, her eyes searching his.

Jack leaned into her touch, his eyes fluttering closed as if he were savoring the feel of her skin against his. "I want to be with you, Y/N," he said, his voice low and fervent. "I want to make things right between us. I want to prove to you that I can be the man you deserve, the man you need me to be."

Y/N's heart clenched in her chest, a lump rising in her throat at the raw honesty in his words. She knew that he meant it, that he truly wanted to make things work between them. But she also knew that it wouldn't be easy, that they had a long road ahead of them if they wanted to rebuild what they had lost.

Still, looking into his eyes, seeing the love and the longing that shone there, she knew that she was willing to try. Because a life without Jack, a life without his laughter and his infuriating stubbornness... that wasn't a life she wanted to live.

"I want that too, Jack,” she whispered, her lips curving into a small, hopeful smile.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat, her breath catching in her throat. For a moment, they stood there, lost in each other's eyes, the rest of the world falling away. But the spell was broken by the sound of sarcastic laughter, and they turned to see Matt and his friends sauntering out of the club.

"Well, well, well," Matt sneered, his lips curling into a cruel smirk as his eyes raked over Y/N's form, lingering on her curves with a lecherous gleam. "If it isn't the Jersey Devil's sloppy seconds."

Jack's entire body tensed, his hands clenching into fists at his sides as a wave of rage crashed over him. "Watch your fucking mouth, Rempe," he yelled back.

Matt scoffed, his friends snickering behind him. "Please. She was grinding on me like a bitch in heat back there. Face it, Jack, your girl's nothing but a filthy little tease." Y/N's cheeks flushed with anger and embarrassment, her eyes narrowing to slits. "Shut up, Matt. You don't know what you're talking about."

Matt took a step forward, his towering frame looming over Y/N in a blatant attempt at intimidation. "I know a slut when I see one, sweetheart,” he leered, his eyes traveling the length of her body with a nauseating hunger. "And sweetheart, you've got 'fuck me' written all over you."

That was the final straw.

Jack lunged forward, his fist connecting with Matt's jaw with a sickening crack. Matt stumbled back, his hand flying to his face, his eyes wide with shock. Matt was quick to recover, charging at Jack with a primal snarl, his own fists flying with brutal precision.

His friends joined in, their fists flying as they tried to defend their teammate.

Y/N watched in horror as the fight escalated, Jack and Matt trading blows, their bodies slamming into the walls of the alleyway. She turned to run back inside, to get help, but she was stopped by the sight of Nico, Marino, and Dawson rushing out of the club, their faces contorted with anger.

They threw themselves into the fray, their fists flying as they tried to defend their friend. Y/N watched helplessly as the fight turned into an all-out brawl, bodies slamming into each other, blood splattering the pavement.

She knew she should do something, should try to break it up, but she was frozen in place, her heart pounding in her chest, her mind reeling with the shock of it all. How had things escalated so quickly? How had a night of fun and flirtation turned into a brutal street fight?

She didn't know. All she knew was that she needed to get Jack out of there, needed to get him somewhere safe.

Heather and Angie burst through the club doors, their eyes widening at the chaotic scene before them. Without hesitation, they threw themselves into the fray, their high heels and manicured nails proving to be surprisingly effective weapons.

Heather grabbed one of the Rangers by the collar, yanking him off of Marino with a snarl. "Get your hands off him, you creep, he’s too small!" she yelled, her knee slamming into his groin with a satisfying crunch.

The Ranger howled in pain, doubling over and stumbling away, his hands cupping his injured pride. Heather dusted off her hands with a smirk, turning to help Angie, who was currently grappling with another one of Matt's cronies.

Y/N, meanwhile, had finally snapped out of her daze, her eyes locking onto Jack's form in the center of the melee. He was holding his own, his fists flying as he traded blows with Matt, but she could see the blood streaming from his nose, the bruises blooming on his cheekbones.

Without a second thought, she lunged forward, shoving her way through the crowd of brawling men. She reached Jack just as he landed a particularly vicious punch to Matt's ribs, sending the Ranger stumbling back with a grunt of pain.

"Jack!" she cried out, her hands reaching for him, desperate to pull him away from the fight. Jack turned to her, his eyes wild with adrenaline and rage. But as he took in the concern on her face, the fear in her eyes, his expression softened, the fight draining out of him.

"Y/N," he murmured, his hand coming up to cup her cheek, heedless of the blood staining his knuckles.

"Enough!" Heather barked, her voice ringing with authority. "Break it up, now, or I'm calling the cops." For a moment, no one moved, the tension crackling in the air like a live wire. But then, slowly, reluctantly, the Rangers began to disengage, their faces twisted with resentment and barely suppressed rage.

Matt was the last to back down, his chest heaving with exertion as he glared at Jack with pure, unadulterated hatred. "See you at the next game Jack," he snarled, his split lip dripping with blood.

But Jack just smiled, the gesture cold and humorless. "I'll be waiting." he said, his voice calm.

...

@clairezegras @rebelatbay @ivy-34

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bruhhhh-huhhhhh · 9 months

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CoD Cold War Masterlist

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thefanfictioncorner-blog · 1 year

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kierahn · 5 months

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Yandere mafia boss x younger subordinate m Reader (Also if you like set in Omegaverse, if not just keep it simple as that :) )

RUSSIAN ROULETTE. [ y ! mafia x m ! surbodinate reader]

yandere! mafia x subordinate! male reader

[ nsfw, minors dni. ]

warnings:

noncon/dubcon

gunplay

omegaverse [ omega reader ]

spit as lube

degradation

request here.

i was going to add a reader death at the end, but i decided against it last minute lol. hope you guys enjoy either way ! :)

× omegas were a rare sight in the underground business. they were either used for trafficking business or used for pleasure among the members of the syndicate, a well-known gang in the underworld.

× you somehow managed to land a position in the syndicate with the help of someone you knew. before you entered, however, he had specifically warned you to never have anyone find out that you were an omega while on the business. you hesitated at first, knowing that trying to deceive such a dangerous group could cost you your life. but at the same time, you were desperate to pay off your family’s debt, and the opportunity was already dangling right in front of you.

× so you took it. you took your suppressants, covered your scent, and convinced yourself that you were a beta. after all, there is a saying that you need to convince yourself before convincing others. luckily enough, it worked and you ended up easily deceiving everyone around you, including your boss; Jansen Lazar, an alpha.

× however, you should’ve known that the karma from your deception would eventually catch up to you.

× you had taken your suppressants that day. you’ve been carefully monitoring your monthly heat so you knew when to take more pills than usual. you took the normal amount of dosage you usually would whenever your heat was approaching, but it seemed like it didn’t help much with the way you were now curled up, on your knees before your own boss; the cat now out of the bag.

× jansen furrows his eyebrows in conflict, torn between getting angry or feeling delighted that you were an omega. he had always harbored an interest towards you ever since you joined the syndicate. now he was presented with the opportunity to turn this interest of his into something more. though, he still made it clear that he was angered by your deception.

× “you..” jansen strode towards your hunched form, his hand shooting out to pull you up from the ground, his grip tight enough to form a bruise. he leans in to confirm his suspicions, the scent of an omega in heat hitting his nose which caused him to recoil slightly. your breathing was ragged, cheeks flushed. you looked so ready to be taken right there and then. “you’re an omega! how dare you deceive me.” he exclaimed angrily, his grip around your arm tightening. he restricted himself from pouncing on you, your scent starting to take a toll on him.

× but jansen didn’t let his libido control him just yet. he resisted the urge to fuck you pretty right then and there on top of his table. he still needed to show you that you weren’t going to be let off lightly after deceiving him.

× the next thing you knew, papers were scattered all around you two when jansen chose to throw you over his table. a revolver was then pointed close to your forehead, a sharp glare directed towards your half-lidded eyes.

× “there are 5 empty slots and a bullet in this revolver,” jansen lowers himself to whisper lowly against your ear in an attempt to intimidate you. his voice was hoarse as he tries to hold himself back from acting out of rationality. “you’re going to answer my questions, and each time i hear an answer i don’t like, i’m going to pull the trigger. got it ?”

× you could barely understand anything your boss was saying, but you nodded your head nonetheless. “good. good boy.” jansen hums in satisfaction, readjusting the gun on his grip. he started with his little interrogation session, but seeing as you didn’t seem to be in the proper state of mind to give him proper answers, he grew frustrated.

× “look at you, you can barely form any words.” jansen scoffed. you looked so vulnerable under him. a contrast to the stoic facade you would put up under your guise of being a beta.

× then an idea forms inside jansen’s head, a mischievous smirk slowly making its way onto his lips. he asks another question, knowing that you would likely answer. “do you want me to help you, little omega ? want me to take you and fuck you dumb ?” he drew his finger close to the trigger, looking down at you with an expectant gaze, daring you to say no.

× not that you would. no omega would reject an alpha during his heat. jansen's pheromones enveloped the room, mixing with your own which helped ease your heat minimally. desperate to find relief, you weakly nod your head, wrapping your arms around jansen’s neck to pull him closer to you which caught the man off guard.

× ‘click.’ the gun in his hand clicked. jansen had pressed the trigger. “i didn’t say you could touch me, y/n.” he says lowly, a warning in his voice. “i’ll do all the touching, behave yourself. do you understand ?” you nod, slowly removing your arms around his neck. jansen, in return, grabbed your wrists with one hand and pinned them above your head to make sure that you wouldn’t touch yourself any time soon.

× he couldn’t hold himself back any further. his lips moved to bite down on your earlobe, eliciting a small gasp from you. jansen’s hot breath trailed down to hover just above your scent gland, the tip of his nose barely brushing against your bare skin as he takes a quick whiff of your scent. you smelled so fucking good, makes hin wonder how you managed to slip under his nose all this time.

× momentarily releasing your wrists, he threw your shirt over your head and threw it aside for you to find another time. he then worked on unbuckling your belt, leaving you bare and ready for him.

× he forcefully stuck two fingers into your mouth. “suck,” he ordered, which you pleasantly obeyed, your tongue wrapping around his fingers and coating it with your own saliva.

× he soon pulled out, a trail of saliva connecting from your lips to his fingertip. jansen, despite feeling his cock grow painfully hard, was generous enough to prepare you beforehand. he prods at your leaking entrance, slowly and carefully pushing his fingers in, using the moisture from your own saliva as lube. though, it seems like he didn’t need to do much with the amount of slick you were producing.

× “your hole is so fucking tight. i’m guessing you’ve never been fucked by an alpha before.” he growled lowly, pulling his fingers out after deciding that you were ready to take on his size. “i’ll happily be your first.” your hole was practically begging to be filled with something bigger than his fingers.

× jansen turned you on your stomach, arching your back so that your ass would be on full display for him. the sound of belt unbuckling reached your ears, and before you could take a deep breath to prepare yourself, he drives himself all the way inside which elicited a loud moan from you.

× ‘click.’ another click from the gun. you were lucky enough to avoid a bullet to your head. “lower your voice. do you want the others to hear you getting fucked by your boss ?” he questions, still thrusting into you at a constant pace that gradually increased over time.

× your hands instinctively shot up to cover your mouth to prevent any moan from slipping out, tears forming at the brim of your eyes.

× jansen stopped thrusting for a quick second to adjust himself before diving back in, hitting all the right spots that you were practically twitching and moaning like a mess under him.

× you wanted to cum, you couldn’t handle it anymore. your hand shoots out to wrap itself around your own cock and stroke it, hoping for some relief. a click makes you freeze, however. “what did i tell you ?” jansen hissed. he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulled, his hot breath right against the back of your neck.

× “hng.. ~ mh ah ..m sor..ry !” you slur out, groaning in both pleasure and pain at the hand that tugged at your hair. a harsh bite to the neck your neck snaps you out of your trance. you felt a wave of relief wash over you as you came, painting the scattered papers on the desk white.

× ‘click.’ ‘bang !’ the revolver went off with a bang causing you to flinch and close your eyes tightly, a painful ringing sound in your ear. you anxiously open your eyes and look to your side, wondering why you were still alive and breathing. the bullet had lodged itself a few meters away from your head.

× “i didn’t give you the permission to cum yet,” jansen points out, a smug smirk on his lips as soon as he notices your fear-struck face. “but you’re lucky that we came at the same time.” jansen pulls out from your hole, leaving it to leak with his seed oozing out of you and trickling down your thigh. you felt your whole body go limp against the table, your whole body shaking uncontrollably after realizing that you had almost faced death. your knees buckled under you, your vision swaying into a blur until you eventually blacked out.

#yandere male x male reader #male reader #x male reader #yandere x reader #yandere x male reader #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere #kiahndere

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h1schier13 · 28 days

Text

GOOD LOOKING BOY——LUKE HUGHES——

word count- 1.1k

Luke Hughes x fem reader

p in v protected/ oral sex/ hookup

You and Dawson had just arrived at the bar. The Devils had beaten Philly 4-1 and the whole team decided to celebrate.

“Ready to meet the boys?” Dawson said, his light accent coming out as he spoke.

“Yeah,” you smiled. Dawson opened the door and you walked in, him following closely behind. The lights of the bar were dimmed, and many jersey-related things scattered around. You looked over to see the devils enjoying drinks and chatting with each other. Dawson walked over first.

“Hey, Dawson” A man got up and hugged him. He was much taller than you, only a bit taller than Dawson. Dark hair and hazel eyes. You found yourself drawn to him.

“Hey Lukey” Dawson chuckled before turning to you.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N” he stuck his hand out and you shook it. Tingles spread throughout your palms. His hands larger and rougher than yours.

“Same to you” you replied and a faint blush coated Luke’s cheeks.

The night went on, you met the rest of Dawson's teammates, and you got yourself a drink.

“I’ll be right over there, is that ok” Dawson asked. You nodded and took a sip of your drink. He left and sat with Holtz and Lazar. You looked around and a grin formed on your face when you spotted Luke, his eyes occasionally running up your body. You set your drink down, hopped off the barstool, and headed towards him.

“Hi, Luke “ You smiled at him. He looked up meeting your eyes.

“Would you mind giving me a ride home?” The truth was you didn’t need a ride but you wanted to be alone with him.

“Oh, uh, yeah sure, I was planning on heading out now anyway” He replied pretty quickly. You walked over to Dawson and let him know you were heading home so he wouldn’t worry later. He gave you a knowing look and you giggled.

You ran back to Luke, before exiting the bar with him. You both got into his car.

“you’re cute” you confessed.

“What?” The light shade of pink you loved covered his cheeks.

“I said you’re cute, as in I find you attractive” Luke tilted his head like a confused puppy.

“Oh, thank you” He smiled.

“Here’s my address “You grabbed his phone and put your address into Google Maps.

The car was silent as Luke drove. You looked outside admiring the stars that filled the night sky.

Minutes quickly went by and Luke let you know that you had arrived.

“Would you like to come inside?” You asked him.

“yes.” His eyes met yours. His chest rose and fell from the deep breaths he took.

“Ok,” you got out, then headed inside.

“Nice place” You turned around to reply to him, but you caught his eyes on your ass. He quickly looked up, letting out a nervous cough.

“If you wanna kiss me all you have to do is ask?” Luke barely wasted a second, one hand pulling you by the waist the other holding your cheek. His lips pressed against yours.

You licked the seam of his lips asking for entrance, and that’s what he gave you. Your tongues fought over dominance. The kiss grew deeper and deeper till you broke it.

“Let’s go to my room,” you said. Luke nodded before kissing you again. He wrapped your legs around him and picked you up.

Somehow Luke managed to find your bedroom, the door being slammed open before you were laid against the bed. Luke kneeled on the floor and pulled you to the edge of the bed. Oh, good lord.

He unzipped your jeans and pulled them down. You took your top off then threw it on the floor. Luke looked up his eyes focused on your bra-covered chest before making eye contact with you. The contact didn’t break as he moved your underwear to the side and licked up your pussy.

“Shit” your hand grasped at his dark curls. His mouth now fully pressed against you. His tongue ran up and down your slit before thrusting inside you, causing you to release a moan.

Luke continued his movements making your orgasm get closer and closer. One more thrust of his tongue and stars filled your vision.

“Luke” you moaned, his mouth drinking you up, taking all your body had to offer.

You sat up and urged him to stand up before you unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down. You pushed him down onto the bed beside you.

You got up and straddled him, then moved your hips back and forth against him.

“Condom?” You got off him then reached over to your nightstand and pulled one out.

“Can I?” Luke nodded. You pulled his boxers down and rolled the condom onto his erection.

You pulled your underwear off and unclasped your bra before straddling Luke again. His tip runs along the seam of your pussy.

You pressed your lips against his, moaning into his mouth, as you lowered onto him. His cock slowly filling you to the brim.

You waited a second before you lifted your hips and came back down. Luke’s hands gripping your hips. Supporting you with the thrusts. Again and again. Up and down.

“You’re so beautiful” Luke whimpered. His face lowered to your neck, he slowly kissed it.

“I’m so close” you moaned. Luke started to thrust upwards, your hips meeting each other. The thrusts gradually got faster and faster before sparks ran through your bodies and you both came. Luke stilled, filling the condom.

He pulled out, threw the condom in the garbage, and headed to the bathroom. After a few seconds, you heard the bath start. Luke came out and picked you up before bringing you to the bathroom. He set you in the bath, the warm water relieving your sore muscles.

Luke sat on the bathroom floor next to you and grabbed a washcloth and some soap. He gently cleaned your body then washed your hair with the shampoo and conditioner that sat beside your bathtub.

“Thank you,” you told him. He smiled.

“Don’t thank me it’s the bare minimum”

“Again, thank you” You kissed him on the cheek. They grew a light pink and you giggled before splashing some water on him.

“Hey!” Luke laughed. He was so pretty.

“Can you get me a towel” Luke did as you asked and wrapped it around you.

You got out of the bath, got dressed in your pajamas, and brushed your teeth.

“Do you wanna stay the night?” You asked Luke.

“I would really like that”

thank you for reading!

Edited 3/25/24

#hockey #nj devils #nhl hockey #hockey fanfiction #fanfic #smut #luke hughes #nhl imagine #nhl players #umich hockey

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elmhat · 4 months

Text

Dreblr Survey Results!

First of all, thanks to everyone who took part in this survey. There were 152 responses in total! This post just covers the statistical side of things; there will be more posts later for the long response questions.

Most popular places

Arctic Commune (64.9% of voters)

Pandora's Vault (63.6% of voters)

Community House (58.3% of voters)

Listen, you don't have to tell me, I already know I forgot to put Church Prime. I'm very aware of my stupidity. But these results—do you even know how strong you have to be to overpower Pandora's Vault? In dreblr? Damn. That was also a last-minute thing, Pandora's Vault was winning.

Fandom behaviors

I'll admit, I didn't give the best options for this question, so thanks to everyone who wrote their own response. Apparently we're all big readers, so that's nice for us! We're also more likely to be a writer than an artist, but far fewer of us are writing meta. All in all, this looks like a pretty good spread!

Joining the fandom

The most popular time to start watching the dsmp was between New L'Manberg and the Disc War Finale, but honestly, it's split into fairly even quarters between the main "seasons" the server was active. To those who joined after the finale streams, hi! I hope you're enjoying your stay!

Thoughts on the finale streams

I'm actually a little blown away that no one rated the finale streams a 1. Not a single person. There's nothing more I can say other than this response is overwhelmingly positive.

Is the fandom dying?

It looks like the answer is no! 82.9% of us are still moderately interested in the dsmp or more, and for almost a third of us, it's consuming every part of our brain. I don't know about you, but for me, this is actually something I really needed to see.

That's all for this post, but there will be more results soon for the questions with longer responses. I'd strongly recommend sticking around for that, some of them are hilarious. Well done for making it through the stats!

As an aside, well done to the 35 people brave enough to put their name to what they said in this survey. Because some of what they said was *ahem* very interesting.

#long post #dreblr #random elm thoughts #elm polls

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2braincellslz · 1 year

Note

Male reader gives Eddie a tattoo on his V-line

Permanent.

Ship: Eddie munson x male!reader

Desc: Eddie calls (y/n) in to their room. Eddie asks (y/n) to give him a tattoo. The rest is history.

Notes: it's short and shitty. I'm sorry. I was just trying to get a request out.

"Baaaabe" eddie called from his room.

(Y/n) was already sprawled out over the couch, lazily shoving handfuls of popcorn in to his mouth as he rewatched Halloween for the... hundredth time.

"Whaaaat?" (Y/n) called back, shoving more popcorn in to his mouth. The taste of cold popcorn was staring to get old.

"Wash your hands and come here!"

(Y/n) rolled his eyes. He placed the bowl on the coffee table before making his way to the sink, cleaning off the cheese powder. "What are you getting at, Munson?"

But there was no response.

(Y/n) groaned loudly as he dumped the leftover popcorn in the that trash, presenting his displeasure from being taken away from his movie without a valid reason yet he still made his way to the bedroom.

Eddie had a little container of black void resting on his bedside table. Eddie himself was stilling on the bed with a needle in his hand, the tip of the needle was sainted black.

Eddie looked up from what he was doing, or trying to do, and gave (y/n) a silly little grin. "Care to help me?" He asked, extending the needle out to his boyfriend.

"You want me to give you a tattoo?" Eddie's plants had already been unzipped, a few dots scattered around Eddie v-line. "Is this even safe?" (Y/n) stepped closer, taking the pin.

"No, not really." (Y/n) couldn't help but roll his eyes, letting out another groan.

"You made me miss Halloween for this." (Y/n) kneeled infront of Eddie. This wasn't his first time dealing with Eddie just getting a tattoo out of nowhere but it was the first time that he had ever been asked to give Eddie or anyone a tattoo.

"Halloween? Oh, the horror. Not like you have seen it three thousand times."

"What do you want me to do, Eddie? Tell me now or I'm picking."

Eddie let out a long hum, rubbing his chin like he was thinking. "I dont know, you pick."

(Y/n) couldn't help but let a smile creep on to his face as different ideas popped into his head, some worse then others. "Nothing bad!" Eddie snapped, immediately regretting letting his boyfriend pick.

"Aw, what?" (Y/n) giggled, deciding on a safe idea. "Your no fun."

(Y/n) started on the tattoo, a bit shaky at first but after a while he got the hang of it. Eddie huffed, hissing at the pain. He grabbed on to (y/n)s shoulder.

"This seems a bit... odd." (Y/n) looked up at eddie.

"Oh shut up." Eddie hissed, nails digging in to (y/n)s shoulder.

(Y/n) continued to work, ignoring the digging pain. He was Lazar focused as he worked. Honestly, It would have been better is Eddie had just taken him to a tattoo parlor but he enjoyed being close to his boyfriend. Being able to do something for him.

"This is going to be shit..." (y/n) mumbled, mostly too himself, as he worked.

"I can get it fixed at a parlor later." Eddie hummed. His voice was strained slightly. For someone who has a collection of tattoos, the man has a low pain tolerance but his skin could also be sensitive from the demobats.

About a hour passed and (y/n) was almost done. It wasnt a big piece but doing anything with one needle was a feat in itself.

"Annnd.... done!" (Y/n) took a paper towel he had gotten half way through and whipped off a bit of the excess ink.

(Y/n) stepped back, looking over his work. Eddie looked down. His face suddenly lit up as he looked over the piece.

It was simple, you could only do so much with a single needle. But it has meaning. It was a 20 sided die with a nat 20 facing out.

"Its perfect!" Eddie cheered, even if the line work was a bit shakey.

"Well, I wouldn't say perfect." (Y/n) chuckled. Eddie pulled (Y/n) in to a tight hug, being careful of the raw skin.

"Dont get it infected." (Y/n) patted Eddie's shoulder, stepping back to look over his art one more time.

#gays on the fyp #tatttoos #tattos #tatoos #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson x male reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson st #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x male y/n #pride #st #stranger things fic #stranger things

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mockerycrow · 5 months

Note

Heyo! Can I request a Russell Adler x fem!reader w/“You son of a bitch, you promised me we’d grow old together. You promised me!” Angst where reader is a traitor working for Perseus who faked her death in Vietnam when Adler got his scars? 🐦‍⬛💙

GLIMPSE OF YOU (Adler x Fem!Reader) — 4K CELEBRATION

authors note; you are not bell in this fic!! bell is a separate character from you. thank you!!

[WARNING; angst, implied flashbacks.]

ADLER RUBS THE sleep from one of his eyes as he shuts his car door, keys in his other hand. It’s quite late; not too uncommon for him to be called to the safehouse at this hour, but it’s unusual to be called by Lawrence of all people. Park, yeah. Lazar? No doubt. Hudson? He’s always up Adler’s ass, no question. Lawrence, though? Must be personal. Adler pockets his keys before walking to the garage door and he bangs his fist on it a couple of times in a specific pattern, his eyes glancing around and landing on the bugs harassing the overhead light. Adler ignores the way the light burns his retinas. A minute or two later, the garage door screeches open to reveal the inside of the safehouse—all of their evidence and what-not.

His eyes land on Lazar who stands by the garage door, motioning for Adler to walk in. The air is oddly still and thick, kind of like it’s clogging Adler’s lungs as his shoes thump against the ground with every step he takes into the garage. Everyone is here; Hudson, Park, Lazar, Lawrence— Bell. Lawrence and Adler lock eyes; and boy, does Sims look nervous. It makes Adler’s jaw tense, a quiet click coming from his jaw screaming from the internal pressure. “What is it?” Adler gruffs, his tone still thick with sleep.

Lawrence is holding a file and a photograph, raised just high enough so Adler can’t see the contents just yet. “Y’gotta promise to not freak out too bad.” Lawrence’s tries to negotiate, but that only makes Adler’s eyes narrow underneath his sunglasses. He puts his hand out and does a tiny gimme motion towards Lawrence who sighs. He glances between the file, the photo, and Adler reluctantly before he slips the photo back underneath the paper clip that is attached to the file, slipping it into Adler’s waiting hand.

Adler’s heart drops when he sees a photo of the beautiful girl he knows—no, once knew. His chest tightens as his eyes lay on a photo of you, only older and more rugged. Dead and angry eyes. A version of you he’s never seen before; he’s never known. “What the fuck?” Adler spits through his teeth before he glances down at the file, reading your information, with the fucking affiliation of PERSEUS instead of MACV-SOG or even fucking CIA. “What the fuck!” He shouts louder, his heart pounding in his ears. He’s supposed to be reading your file from Vietnam, you died in Vietnam, you died there so why the hell are you on this goddamn worthless piece of paper, saying you’re aligned with Perseus?

Adler blindly walks with the file into the developing room, brushing Bell’s shoulder, who was barely able to get out of the way in time. He slams the door closed as he inhales shakily, the memories flooding back into his mind. The terrified and angry feelings during Vietnam overtake his senses; he can nearly hear the shouting and the gunfire, the fucking explosions—Adler’s eyes squeeze closed as he can feel his face being torn apart again.

An image of you pops up in his head, you wearing your uniform, an M16 lazily laying in your arms as you smile at him. Your eyes exhausted yet shimmering, somehow not being dampened from the horrors around you two. It makes present day Adler wonder if Perseus is the reason why your eyes are no longer shining in this photo. “You son of a bitch..” Adler grits lowly, his eyes opening with a new found fury as he looks back down at your picture in the low red lighting. “You promised me we’d grow old together.” He pushes out harshly, avoiding the break in his tone that threatened to spill out. “yOu FUCKING PROMISED!”

No one mentions the way Adler is more snappy, somehow more serious than before—not even Bell, who is ultimately confused on who you are. They remember a bit about you, but it’s blurry—like you weren’t meant for their eyes. Odd.

#call of duty #cod #cod bocw #bocw #russell adler x reader #russell adler x fem!reader #russell adler x you #russell adler #crow’s 4k celebration #cod russell adler #russell adler cod #cod black ops cold war #black ops cw #black ops cold war #call of duty black ops cold war

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xappetites · 7 months

Text

one thing leads to another

Russell Adler x f!Reader (Bell) | Adler is half convinced Bell's using tenderness as a battering ram on purpose, he also needed someone to understand him more than he would ever admit, shit's fucked but that's par for the course, as always i sort of added a year between finding Bell and the rest of the game | word count: 1,672

London is a mess, but then again, all cities are. And this one has the benefit of both being friendly ground but not exactly home, in case the whole thing goes sideways.

Besides, it’s not like Adler’s an amateur. He wouldn’t have started this game without the certainty that he’d be able to handle it, roll with all of the possible outcomes.

No, this was calculated.

He purposely picked the side of town where metro police drag their feet, no matter how urgent the call. And he’s carrying a trusty sedative in a hypodermic needle retrofitted into a pen, so all he really needs to worry about is Bell.

Quite frankly, Bell’s all he’s been worrying about for the past eight months, though for the most part he can justify it as just another job hazard. The rest he blames on being a sexually active human with an average libido and moderately good circulation.

Sure, he’s seen her bleeding out, sweat drenched and bruised from several rounds of interrogation. Feverish, mumbling, staring into his soul like she could tear into him with her eyes alone. And she still slides silk soft over the ridges of his brain.

It was easy to ignore, all things considered; in that dark room with nothing but the microphone and the bell. To watch her, past whatever attraction he can’t shake, looking closely for results. But now she’s out in the world, fully convinced that she’s known him for decades; now she remembers a different Russell Adler. The one he was before the crooked line of his life proved to him that he wasn’t one for an easy ride; the man who would banter mid firefight, with the kind of gusto that makes him roll his eyes coming from Park and Lazar over comms.

And sure, that means she’s comfortable enough to follow his instructions without much back-talk and she's amenable enough that she’ll take initiative to do what’s best for the mission on her own. She’s efficient and useful; and she claws that old playfulness out of him kicking and screaming. Even if he tries to resist, to ignore her easy jabs, the gallows humor, it’s those damn eyes and the light of affection in them that forces him to respond just to focus on something else.

It’s so obvious that even Sims commented on it, how he hadn’t heard chatter like that from him in years. So maybe that’s why Adler wanted this meeting to be private; why he asked Bell to slip away from Park when he called. Selling it as an added challenge when he dared her to find him in London with nothing to go on but the arrival time of his flight. A test of skill and loyalty.

Just as Park’s had Bell here for a week. Officially, for a briefing of the few leads MI6 has in Berlin. Off the record, offering proof of concept to the powers that be: one shining, sweet success to prove what programming can do. Work. That’s what’s behind Adler standing alone in a no name club, not the impulse to hog Bell all to himself, or the unspeakable notion that he misses her.

He’s too professional to let it show, and he knows what needs to be done, but that’s the filthy truth of him, the way his hands itch for skin on skin contact. The manufactured familiarity that allows her to touch him all the time —hands solid on his shoulders or her thigh pressed against his in the back of a cab. All the more tempting for being forbidden. More nagging in the back of his mind because he’s stealing her from the man he’s hunted for so long.

The sensation makes Adler lay his palms flat on the bar top, check his watch. All he can do at the moment is wait.

Two more minutes to his midnight meeting with Bell. Two minutes that are nothing in the grand scheme of his standing stakeout record of several months. Minutes that he watches tick like molasses over his wrist. Anticipation settling horrible in the pit of his stomach with the possibility that, once out of Park’s watchful eye, Bell will abscond back to Perseus. And won’t that be a fun one to explain. A betrayal he can already taste, that hurts in a way that it shouldn’t. Burning as it goes down like the whiskey that’s suddenly shoved his way over the bar.

“I didn’t order this.”

“Your missus said you looked thirsty.”

The bartender tosses a wry smile his way too, nodding in the general direction of a very smug Bell. Who, at least, has the decency not to appear out of the smoke like this is a private eye movie, she just simply is there, close enough to touch, when she wasn’t the second before.

“You made it,” he greets her, watches her grin grow slow and tilted over her mouth. Her hips angled to squeeze in next to him, lean her weight on the bar and steal a sip off his drink. And Adler hates how proud he sounds, how his shoulders lose tension when she takes the first, poison-taster gulp of liquor like a half apology for ambushing him.

“You doubted it?”

“Park can be hard to sidestep.”

Bell outright giggles then, smile blinding in her satisfaction, but she doesn’t offer anything else. She won’t spoil the magician’s trick.

“So what’s your story?” She asks instead, dipping closer still, until Adler can feel the ghostly touch of her hair against his cheek. “If this were to go tits up. Who are you tonight?”

“Well, you already told the bartender, I’m your husband.”

“Got you sore about that?”

There’s laughter in Bell’s voice, a tease of her fingertips straightening the collar of his jacket. Of course he’s fucking sore, with the way the thought goes right between his legs, aches in the pit of his stomach. Here with her lips on the rim of his glass, her body nudging insistently into his personal space like picking at a wound.

“Just wondering how believable it’d be for me to have a wife so beautiful.”

“Please, Russ, you’re the most attractive man I know.”

She moves, digging out a cigarette and flagging the bartender for an ashtray, and the extra inch of distance is such a deep relief that it takes Adler half a second to realize she’s smoking when they were supposed to have culled that out of her.

“I thought you’d quit,” he tries, as a thin, icy stream of uncertainty slides down his spine. He tries to be rational, smoking is the least dangerous of Bell’s old habits; complicated by the physiological dependence on nicotine to boot. This doesn’t have to be a sign of impending doom, he just has to keep an eye on it.

“In this line of work? It wasn’t meant to last,” she pauses, takes a drag and holds the smoke for long enough to notice she’s having his exact brand, familiar and comforting. “Besides, you give me cravings.”

The eyes, it’s always the fucking eyes. The way they catch on his scar, climbing along until she’s staring him down with nothing but open, honest desire, and a sort of sadness underneath. Like she’s given up on the magnetic pull she feels for him as soon as she admits to it.

Bell knows he’d put the job above anything, knows that’s what nuked his marriage. She knows because he told her, made her privy to things the likes of Sims only suspect. It was easy too, once he got started, to let the words get away from him; maybe not during the first session, but by the twentieth? The fiftieth? He’d find himself in the jungle of Vietnam and in the weeds of his personal hang ups all the same.

We fought together, bled together.

A mantra that to a degree poisoned him too. Enough to make him need this, once at the very least, to hold Bell steady by the back of the neck, tasting the smoke and the surprise on her lips. Then he has to do it again, since Bell’s crushing the cigarette out so she can pull herself closer by his lapels, run her fingers through his hair with a whisper of ‘fuck Russ’. And he is absolutely fucked in so many ways.

Fucked in the ease of walking beside her back to his hotel. And in how she sighs against his mouth when her cold hands sneak under clothes in the elevator. Adler feels his heart beating in double time as he finally works himself inside her, inch by inch so he can’t hide from this. He could regret it, he already does, as he struggles to make this last as long as he can, but he can never pretend it didn’t happen.

He’ll always have the way she clings to him, his name stumbling out of her when he hits the angle that makes her melt, to weigh on his conscience. He’ll keep coming back to her shoulder, still slick from the shower as he rested his forehead on it, because that was the third time he’d come that night and it never lost its edge to feel her around him.

These are the things Adler knows will haunt him. Keep him up at night until he finds the next excuse to have her, in a different hotel and a different city, with the same burning desperation.

And it’s what he sees, clear as day, playing in her mind that night as he tries to drag Perseus’ location out of her. Every kiss and every single time he drew meaningless shapes over her skin while she was curled up against his side.

The way he demands the information but has not let go of her hand, the fact that they both know how this ends. And he can only fucking hope, with her brilliant eyes burning through him again, that she can forgive him for falling for her.

#m: cod #r: smut #russell adler x reader #russell adler x bell #personal #i want this man to be so down fucking bad he can't even live with himself #'it was never personal' my ass

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year

Text

Dusters & Diamonds {2}

Dimitri Belikov x fem!Badica!reader Summary: You cross paths with Dimitri for the first time since losing Ivan. Warnings: alcohol WC: 3k

Part 1 || Part 2 ||

Ten Years Later - St Vladimir’s Province The Royal Oak became claustrophobic as more Moroi poured into the bar and you could hardly move on the dancefloor with the bodies pressed so close to you. Downing the shot in your hand, you revelled in the burn of the strong liquor before shoving your way through the crowd and out into the searingly bright daylight.

You hissed as the sunlight immediately began to heat your skin and stumbled towards the shadows offered across the street where you cowered, hoping a taxi would pass by to take you home.

“Bad-bad-Badica, Cinderella forgot her crown,” Ronny Lazar sang as he swept from the bar in search of you, the diamond and emerald encrusted tiara you had been wearing hanging from his wrist as he twirled it around.

“Cinderella lost a shoe, Ronald,” you correct with a roll of your eyes as you took it from him and placed it back on your head. Anthony would not be pleased if you lost the heirloom in a drunken haze, not even if it was for your birthday.

“Eh, same thing.” He huddled into the shade beside you and pulled a pair of sunglasses from his pocket, slipping the designer piece over his eyes. “Human fairytales are so boring, could they really not come up with something more creative?”

You stole the sunglasses off him before moaning as they immediately eased the irritation in your eyes. “They did, but it was too close to the truth that we had to erase it.”

“I did not come out here for a history lesson,” Ronny groaned. “Come have another drink, it’s not even noon.”

You gave him a push back into the sunlight so he would cross the street without you. “Not tonight, but you have fun.”

Knowing the heat would only grow more intense while your shadow space decreased, you began to make your way through the cobblestone streets and back to the townhouse that had been left to you with your inheritance. Every few blocks you passed a group of partiers club jumping from one to another and you listened to their laughter and songs as they clung to one another.

You wanted to be able to sing and laugh too, but it felt wrong.

Thoughts tangled in your head as you walked along that you didn’t notice the doors to The Wee Hours, a dhampir club, open suddenly. You jerked back to avoid a painful injury but the quick movement sent the tiara tumbling from your head and slamming to the pavement.

“Fuck,” you swore as you awkwardly bent down in your little black dress and high heels, trying to pick up the small diamonds that had broken free from their settings.

“Y/N?” a familiar voice asked, only it had grown deeper over the years, and you peered up the tall length of the body before you.

You bolted upright as you realised it really was Dimitri and you automatically searched around him for Ivan, only to remember you would never see him again. Your face fell at the empty street and you saw the same pain reflected in Dimitri’s eyes as he buried his hands in the deep pockets of a long black duster he wore over black jeans and a black t-shirt.

His hair had been cut shorter than it used to be, no longer reaching his shoulders, and he looked exhausted beneath the five o’clock shadow along his jaw that had sharpened with adulthood. There was no sign of the boyish features he had once had.

“I haven’t seen you since…” his words drifted off as neither one of you wanted to hear the words. Ivan’s funeral.

“Yeah, well, not much reason for me to visit St Constantine’s anymore, Guardian Belikov,” you muttered as you fingered the diamonds in your palm to keep your hands busy. “Have you seen Eloise and Alexei?”

Dimitri smiled a little at the mention of Ivan’s son but shook his head. “They moved to a commune and I got assigned here, to Princess Vasilisa Dragomir.”

“A commune?” you frowned. “She was married to a royal, she should be in a province.”

Dimitri’s lips pressed together and he ran a hand through his hair before rolling his eyes at you. “Don’t be naive, Y/N, she’s still a young and healthy dhampir. The moment she refused to hand Alexei over to the academy and become a Guardian, they sent her to the communes as punishment.”

You immediately shook your head, hoping there had been a mistake, but after the strigoi attack at St Jude’s Academy you had seen the politics turn nasty despite trying to avoid it completely. The council was beginning to pressure more dhampirs into becoming Guardians, something Ivan had been passionate about stopping.

“The communes are for bloodwhores and breeders, why didn’t she just do what they wanted?”

Dimitri’s nose wrinkled in disgust and you found yourself 16 years old and back at the Academy on the receiving end of that disappointed look. “My mother and sisters live in the communes.”

“I didn’t know that,” you said as you dropped your gaze and ran your hands along your bare arms as they burned in the sun.

“The communes are for dhampirs who want to raise their own children, be a family. They should have a choice, and that’s what Eloise chose.” His voice had softened and the sun was suddenly gone from your skin as he laid his duster over your shoulder.

“You should visit them,” you said as you pulled the jacket closer and inhaled the rich scent that clung to the leather.

The corners of his lips turned down and it was his turn to look at his boots. “The last time I took leave…it didn’t end well.”

You flinched as you remembered the nasty words you had spewed at him when you found out Ivan had died. Dimitri was one of the best guardians around and you had told him that Ivan died because he wasn’t there. It was no wonder he thought you were a terrible person, you were.

“If it’s because of what I said, I’m so sorry, Dimitri. I was hurt and angry, but that’s no excuse for being a horrible person,” you said wholeheartedly, surprising him as he looked up from his combat boots in shock.

“I don’t think I have ever heard you apologise for anything,” he admitted with a crease forming between his brows.

“I’m trying this new thing, you know, like not being a ‘psychotic bitch’.”

His lips tipped up with an amused smile and he tilted his head to the sun, enjoying its warmth like only a dhampir could. You hadn’t realised there were hints of auburn in his hair when the sun hit it right but then again you never really saw him in the midday sun or spent long enough around each other even when Ivan visited. You thought he was too serious and he thought you were spoiled.

“I never called you a bitch,” he corrected before looking down the empty street. “I think all the taxis are busy with the celebration, you’ll be waiting all day at this rate.” He looked at your short dress again, his eyes lingering on the line of your legs before they disappeared beneath the material that clung like a second skin and he cleared his throat, forcing himself to look in your eyes as he realised where you were. “Why aren’t you with the royals?”

The tiara in your hands shimmered as you shifted on your feet, the heels not comfortable for walking any distance in. “That’s not really my scene anymore,” you confessed as you chewed on your bottom lip, your fangs peeking out. “I made my escape as soon as I could, not that anyone noticed.”

“Where are your Guardians?”

You laughed at the question before realising he was serious and the humour died out as you placed the broken tiara back on your head. “The council has a very good memory and the consequences of my youth still shadow me now. They consider me a low priority and that’s fine by me.” Elemental magic danced around the tiara until you wore a crown of flame and shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. “I have my own protection.”

“Tasha mentioned training with someone when she visited in the fall, you could get in a lot of trouble for that.”

You winched at the thought of Tasha and the scars she now held after her sister turned strigoi and attacked her. “She was always pestering me to teach her but I was so self-absorbed I didn’t even try. Maybe if I had, then she wouldn’t be…” your words died off with a sigh.

Dimitri stepped closer and you had to tip your head back to hold his intense eye contact. Ten years had seen him grow broad shouldered and strong, and even by Moroi standards he was tall as he towered over you in your heels. “Can you please put the fire out?”

You smothered the flames and his biceps tensed against the cuffs of his t-shirt before he reached out and enveloped you in a hug. You froze at the foreign feeling. No one but Ivan hugged you and you had been perfectly fine with that. But now, a heat filled your chest as you inhaled the cologne on his skin and after a moment you relaxed into the embrace.

“It’s not your fault,” he said as he ran his palm in soothing circles across your back. “It was the strigoi who attacked.” The way he said it made you wonder how many times he had told himself that after Ivan was killed.

“Why are you being so nice? I thought you hated me,” you murmured as the touch of his hands lingered long after he pulled away. “You should hate me.”

“I did, for a long time,” he said reluctantly.

“But you don’t now?”

He laughed softly and shook his head. “No, I don’t hate you. Ivan talked about you all the time, about how you were before your parents died. I guess I can kind of see it now. You can be…soft.”

“He never did know when to keep his thoughts to himself,” you said with a sigh. “Shame he never got to see this miracle. I’m not sure he would actually believe it, I’m not sure I believe it.”

Dimitri gave a wide toothy grin that muddled your thoughts and you licked your suddenly dry lips. Those amber eyes of his followed your tongue and your breath hitched as his pupils blew out to chase away the colour you had grown fond of looking at.

The liquid courage lacing your blood had you step closer as his hands reached for you, pulling you flush against him before curling around your waist to hold you as his lips brushed softly against yours.

There was such restraint to his touch, like he was worried you would break or perhaps that you would change your mind. Restraint was not what you needed. You moaned against his lips and buried your hands in his hair, tugging the longer strands at the top in an attempt to spur him on.

Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought you would ever kiss Dimitri but now that you had tasted his lips you wanted more.

His hands trailed down your back and over the curve of your hip before he froze and pulled away. There was a hungry look in his eyes and his lips were swollen as you imagined yours were but he put distance between you anyway.

“It’s uh getting late,” he muttered uncomfortably as he looked at the sun creating the sky.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” you apologised as your face heated and you looked at the ground. “Probably made you hate me again.”

“Hey,” he interrupted the internal scolding you were giving yourself as he tipped you head back with the tip of his finger. “I was just surprised, but I wouldn’t have kissed you back if I hated you.”

His smile was teasing and you realised he wasn’t as stiff and serious as he had been in school, like he had grown comfortable in his own body and knew just how good looking it was too.

“Is that what that was?” you teased back. “I’ve forgotten already, maybe you should remind me how it went.”

Dimitri’s smirk grew and he traced the line of your jaw with his warm fingers before he caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger, holding you in place as he lowered his head to yours. “I like this new you, princess.”

“Don’t call me-” He cut you off as he crushed his lips to yours, the taste of liquor on his tongue that fought for dominance while he backed you further into the shadows until your back pressed against the wall. You broke away breathless and the stubble of his beard burned your neck as kissed his way over your racing pulse. “Princess.”

“If the crown fits,” he murmured against your skin before pulling away as the doors crashed open again.

The dhampirs nodded their heads respectfully at Dimitri as they stumbled past, ignoring you completely not that it was a surprise. Most of the royals held themselves in a higher regard over the non-royal Moroi and dhampirs, and when you were younger and immature you were centred firmly in that lot too. It didn’t matter how much you had changed personally, you were still a royal and that was all you would be seen as.

Straightening up, you started to pull Dimitri’s duster off but he caught it and covered your shoulders once more. “You’ll get burned.”

“I don’t live that far from here and I know how attached you are to this.” Ivan had given it to Dimitri as a graduation gift, the day they found out they were assigned together.

“Then at least let me walk you home.”

Walking through the streets with Dimitri at your side was a stark contrast to the last time he had been here. Less than a year ago it had been Ivan walking along with you, telling you how Eloise’s pregnancy was progressing and the work he was doing to get the dhampir more rights. Dimitri had kept well away, taking the far guard position.

“I never thanked you, for protecting Ivan all those years,” you said, breaking the comfortable quiet of the vampiric night.

“He was a good friend and a better Moroi so it wasn’t duty or obligation that made me want to be his Guardian. That probably doesn’t even make sense,” he said as his cheeks flushed.

“I get it,” you reassured him with a hand on his arm, the muscles beneath your palm flexing at the touch. “Damien, uh, Guardian Blake, used to say that too. It was family.”

Damien was one of your parents’ Guardians and a constant presence in your life from the moment you were born. He had died defending them but his sacrifice was fruitless in the end as the strigoi killed your parents after he fell.

“You cared about him,” Dimitri confirmed quietly. “We figured you just hated all of us at the Academy.”

You tipped your head back and laughed before covering your face with an embarrassed groan. “God, I was an idiot. I foolishly thought if I didn’t care about anyone else then I wouldn’t get hurt again.”

“You were young and lost the people you loved most, I think you can be forgiven,” Dimitri stated seriously as he pulled your hands away from your face.

“You have to say that, you go to church every week.”

“You could always come and repent too,” he said, a smile teasing at his lips when he saw your nose scrunch at the offer.

“No thanks.” You gave an adamant shake of your head and rubbed at the skin on top of your hand though the wounds had long since healed. “The High Priestess has it out for me. What I don’t understand about all that stuff, is if God gave me this gift,” you said as you cradled a small flame in your palm before extinguishing it with a closed fist, “why do I get punished for using it?”

Dimitri looked afar as he pondered the question before shrugging. “Come on Sunday and ask her yourself.”

“I already asked her,” you scoffed. “Do you know what her response was? She burned an Old Moroi compulsion ward onto my hands that stopped me from using my magic until it healed.”

“That’s…does the Council know about this?” he asked with a commanding tone you hadn’t heard from him before.

“I don’t know, but I’m not the only one she’s punished. Just a few weeks ago I saw Victor Dashkov’s daughter with the same burns after she attacked a royal.”

“Mia defended a dhampir that was being threatened,” Dimitri said with a side glance as he began to walk once again.

“Attacking a royal is still treason no matter how noble the reason, even if they deserved it.” You had no doubt the second cousin of Ivan needed a good throttling but it wasn’t worth being exiled over or executed. The few interactions you had with Jesse Zeklos at royal functions always left a sour taste in your mouth and the urge to scrub every inch of skin he hungrily leered at. “But I am glad she didn’t get a more severe punishment.”

He seemed surprised by the admission and you wished he wasn’t. It made you feel like a monster.

Moving to St Vladimir’s was exactly what you had needed at that point in your life ten years ago. It had taken a few more years of maturing before you made use of the fresh start but finally you began to be someone you could actually look at in the mirror.

The ghost of your past self still haunted you, especially when ex-students of St Constantine’s Academy came to the province and avoided you. Just like it was haunting you now with that look of disbelief on his face.

You were going to show Dimitri how much you had changed.

#vampire academy fanfiction #dimitri belikov x reader #dimitri belikov #dimitri belikov x you #dimitri belikov fanfic

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