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captainderyn · 3 years

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22. From the 101 ways to say I love you ♡

Thank you so much for the ask @elveny ! I was very excited to take on this prompt for Ryn and Garrus lol.

(This is cross posted on AO3 (CaptainDeryn) )

Prompt 22: "Let me fix your hair."

Ryn didn’t make a habit of looking fancy.

She already put in enough effort every day putting on her armor and dealing with the stress of one mission after another. In the off chance she got a day to relax, she wasn’t going to waste precious time and energy on looks.

If she could get away with sweatpants and a crop top, her hair thrown up into a messy bun, then she damn well would. It didn’t matter where she was going: if they could handle Commander Shepard in her armor, then they could handle her in these civvies.

Maybe, if others were lucky, she would put on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. Maybe a sweater if she was feeling crazy.

The rare exception she made was for Garrus. For him, and for their planned date with two full days of shore leave, she dug through her meager clothes she had with her on the Normandy to pull out something exceptional.

Garrus, she decided, as she wrestled herself into something far beyond what she usually considered acceptable for off-duty, was the luckiest of all aboard the Normandy.

Together they’d decided their date night was going to treat the other right. In reality, they’d both suggested the same upscale restaurant when they’d been brainstorming ideas. Supposedly it had the best view on the Citadel, and if Shepard gave away all the cards in her hand: she wanted the chance to see Garrus clean up nice without the stress of a formal gathering.

Of course, after some bickering back and forth about who was treating who right, they’d settled on splitting the check fifty-fifty. And most likely getting one of the food vendors on the lower levels, the real best food on the Citadel, as the night wore on.

Ryn made a face at herself in the mirror as she finished her eyeliner. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had the chance to willingly put on a full face of makeup and her eyeliner showed it. If she wiped off her attempt one more time no amount of concealer would hide the red blotchiness that would stain her pale skin.

Good enough, she decided, doing one final inspection in the mirror.

A full face of makeup was probably a strong word. She was too rusty to do anything too exuberant and she hated hiding her freckles too much to cake on enough foundation to hide the realities of being an N7 and fighting a war on her skin.

She’d managed a smokey black and gold look to make the grey of her eyes pop and piercing and put on a dark red lip without too many makeup wipe casualties to fix mistakes, that was a win in her book.

There were, of course, a few bruises from their last mission to hide on her face from where she’d so elegantly cracked her helmet into a rock in a graceless throw from a biotic. They weren’t perfectly covered, but she hoped they would be good enough in the harsh lighting of the Citadel to avoid any questions.

The real struggle was figuring out what to do with her hair. Her go to hairstyles were down and messy, a messy bun, or a messy ponytail. The most refined thing she’d done with her hair over the last year since Saren was put it in a bun that fit Alliance marine regulations.

She’d spent far too long after her shower laying on her bed in a towel scrolling the extranet for inspiration. She’d finally settled on something she figured was within her rusty skill set.

As she’s taken a curling wand and elastic bands to her hair, she’d missed the days when she was in her twenties and going out every few nights, where her makeup and hairstyling skills had become second nature.

Now, at thirty-two with more combat tours than nights out under her belt recently, she was thrilled with the simple curled half up-half down look she pulled off.

She didn’t look too shabby, and she gave herself a confidence boosting smile and thumbs up.

All she had to do tonight was be a civilian.

She pulled her black heels on and called Garrus up to her quarters. It was better than roaming around the ship looking for him and dealing with the rabblerousing of her crew. While she’d gone through the attempted effort of painting her nails, another luxury she hadn’t had in a long time, she didn’t want to show them off by flipping off her crew.

It didn’t take long for Garrus to knock on her door, and she let him in, stepping back to admire him.

Blatantly so, not trying to hide the way her eyes roamed.

He did in fact, clean up quite nice.

Quite nice indeed.

She hummed in approval, eyes drifting over the well fitted trousers and dark navy shirt that hugged his body. He had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the shirt unbuttoned at his collar.

Garrus gave her a charming smile as he walked up to her, eyes also roving across her body in turn.

She would be lying if she said she hadn’t dressed to get a reaction. Where was the fun in wearing the same old business-formal black and red dress she wore for formal functions? The whole point of tonight was to be civilians.

And this dress certainly was not in regs.

While the dress was floor length, both sides were slit up to her hipbone, revealing a scandalous amount of her skin. The dress had sleeves yes, but the neckline dipped down to below her breasts.

And Ryn had spent far too long finagling the dress so that she wouldn’t accidentally reveal them to the public. The potential headlines had tormented her for the entire time she’d been getting ready. Not that Garrus needed to know that.

Garrus leaned down to kiss her, innocent enough, but his hands ran up her hips, catching at the slit fabric and pulling it up. He made a noise somewhere between excitement and surprise and pulled back enough to look at her again.

“Is this a human’s way of seducing?” he asked in amusement.

“Perhaps,” Ryn shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest to accentuate the lack of fabric there. Turians, of course, would not have the same reaction as humans to her show, but that didn’t matter. Too much confidence was coursing through her veins to really care. She was reveling too much in her own self-image to particularly care about his reaction. “Is it working?”

“Oh, there are multiple things about you right now that are working.” There was still a slight rumbling chuckle in Garrus’ words, and she shot him a look, “You want something.”

She contemplated and then gave him a wicked smile, “I want you to kiss me.”

Garrus’ hands curled more tightly around her hips. A small thrill went through her as he ducked his head, pausing just before their mouths met, “Do you?” his breath whispered across her skin and goosebumps prickled on her arms.

Breath catching, she licked her lower lip, “I really do.”

She reaped the energy that she sowed as her back connected with the cold glass of the wall length fish tank and Garrus’ mouth met hers in a fiery kiss. His hands pressed her back against the tank and a gleeful laugh broke from her between breaths at the thrill that went through her.

She draped her arms across his shoulders, her hands resting against the back of his neck and pulled him closer.

They could miss dinner; she really didn’t mind if they missed dinner.

A date night in was as much of a date night.

Garrus gave her one last long kiss and went to move back. Ryn caught him, her arms tightening around his shoulders, and yanked him right back for another kiss.

He laughed, the sound bright and merry in her ears before he wrestled himself away. When her grabby hands went for him again, he grabbed her wrists, and pinned them above her head.

From the sly grin he gave her, it was entirely intentional. Ryn squirmed against his grip.

“You are causing trouble.” His attempted sternness failed to meet its mark.

Ryn looked him up and down once, “Yeah.” she agreed. Then offered him a sweet smile, “You should join me in causing it.”

Garrus’ head dipped with a sigh that was more a breathy laugh and released her. He took a step towards the door and motioned for her to follow, giving a low chuckle as she stuck her lower lip out in a pout,

“We already have a reservation. At least let me treat you to food and drinks before I…treat you to other things.”

He made a face as he stumbled, as if he cringed at the words that slipped from his mouth. Ryn gave a bright, full bodied laugh and hooked her arm into his.

“We will treat each other.” she corrected, kissing his cheek. Without her heels she was nearly as tall as Garrus. Wearing them, she was just a smidge above eye-to-eye with him.

She led him out the door, tossing a coy glance over her shoulder, “Besides, I want to flaunt a little bit. Put aside being Commander Shepard for a while.”

Garrus tugged her to a stop just before she slipped through the doorway, pulling her back to face him. With a gentle touch he brushed away strands of red hair that had fallen across her forehead and reached up to tighten the ponytail that kept half her hair up.

“Stop squirming,” he chastised, “and let me fix your hair.”

“I’m excited.” Ryn complained, beaming up at him, “I can’t help it.”

Garrus shook his head at her with a laugh and slipped his hand into hers, finally leading her out the door and to the Normandy’s elevator. As the elevator shuttled them to the command deck, Garrus’ eyes didn’t leave her.

“You look stunning, Ryn.” he said, and she couldn’t help the blood that rushed to her cheeks.

The view from the topmost level of the restaurant might well be the best view on the Citadel, Ryn decided during dinner.

Their table was a simple, dark wood two-person table. Above them patio lights glimmered with warm light. It was beautiful, but the real awe began when she looked up.

From between the arms of the Citadel, space swirled above them. Stars blinked in massive swaths, dark black of far space and near space blending together like paint on an artist’s palette. It was mesmerizing and the same call to be among the stars that had drawn her to the Alliance tugged in her chest.

As beautiful as the view was, it couldn’t hold her attention for long. Garrus kept too much of it in the way the light caught in the planes of his face and the way his hand stayed on her thigh. In the way their conversation was easier than breathing and her laughter fell from her like renewing spring rain.

They dined on fancy food and fine drinks until the call of the night swept them up and brought them to the lower levels of the Citadel. Where they walked arm in arm, orders from one of the food trucks in their hands until they found a bench to sit on.

Where Ryn took off her heels and let out a sigh of relief as her aching feet thanked her. Garrus swept up her legs and set them across his lap, laughing along with her when she almost slipped off the bench.

Until the wild urges of the night took over and they were swept to their feet by the strings of music slipping from the restaurants and clubs all around them and danced in the courtyard. Not the sort of elegant dancing or the feral dancing of a club, but simply moving together and moving to the music.

Until their laughter created their own music and Garrus’ hands were cupping her face and hers were looped around his shoulders. Until he leaned in to kiss her and she leaned into it. Until his hands slid into their hair he had so carefully fixed and tousled it with his touch.

Until their unabashed joy underneath the whorls of stars became the best view on the Citadel.

#captainderyn writes #mass effect #mass effect fanfiction #femshep x garrus #shakarian #garrus vakarian #femshep #commander shepard #oc: Ryn Shepard #otp: Keep Me Grounded #looks like this is a Ryn/Garrus blog now sorry guys #I've written more fanfic for them in the past 3 months than in the past two years of any other fic combined #i think this is the most fic I've written since delavairess and I parted ways #and it feels WONDERFUL

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callmethehunter · 4 years

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New Chapter of Maggie and Robert ! It’s pretty long, but I hope it keeps your attention. I promise to make the other ones shorter. ..Your reward? A surprise ending and lots of NSFW.😉 I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it 💖Check out my master post (which I didn’t know how to make- lol) It has the previous chapters .

Here’s a quick Recap of the end of Chapter 5: What was that obnoxious pounding noise? An incessant banging that pulled her out of her heavenly dream with a jolt. She found herself still on the balcony, laying on the chaise lounge where she now realized she had fallen asleep. Robert’s kiss had felt so real… More loud knocking and curse words from the other side of the front door, which she had inadvertently locked after letting Kathy out.

“What the fuck, Maggie? ” Steve shouted, punctuating each word with a bang on the door.”Open the door!” Bang Bang Bang.

And with that, the last vestiges of her dream disappeared like a misty fog that hovers over a darkened ocean. She sighed, disappointed by her reality. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and walked wearily to open the door. Maggie opened the door to let Steve in. —————————————————————–

New: Chapter 6 Double Trouble

I told you not to be locking the front door.” Steve brushed past her carrying a large grocery bag. She caught a glimpse of plastic bags inside and knew that he had re-upped in preparation for the show. His people would be in search of some good party favors and he meant to provide them. At a nice profit for himself, of course. Having them rely on him to get high made him feel he held the power.

Maggie tried to tune Steve out as he recounted how he’d taken the boat from the Bahia Mar marina while Carlos stood by helpless to stop him. The way he told it you would have thought he was part of an elite commando unit.

“Man, it was like taking candy from a baby…I mean I had to slap him a couple times so he’d give me the deed and key”, he boasted. “He threatened to call the cops, what an idiot! but you know what? Even at the end he was still pleading with me, telling me all kinds of sob stories… like I care, ” Steve said.

Maggie felt uneasy as she pictured the scene. In an effort to change the subject and lighten the mood, she asked “Did you find all the boat supplies you were looking for?

“Yea,” he said without elaborating. He grabbed a cold beer from the fridge and sauntered over to her, taking a long swig and peering at her over the bottle. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth.

Oh, here we go, she thought. He walked over to where she was standing and gave her ass a firm slap. Maggie cringed inwardly, feeling no attraction but annoyance. Making love to Steve seemed repulsive to her, especially after her pleasant dream of Robert was so rudely interrupted while in mid-kiss. She started toward the bathroom and said “Hey let’s save it for the boat…it’s already 6 o’clock and I’ve got to shower and get ready to go… and so do you.”

But Steve was not easily diverted and he came up behind her, encircled her waist and pulled her back so that her ass and his crotch were in contact. Maggie reached for his hands at her waist and twirled around. She gave him a playful look, “Steve, really… we don’t have much time. Let’s wait to christen the boat the right way”.

“Whatever, Maggie…It’s like I gotta beg you to let me touch you these days”. He grumbled as he went to sit on the couch to nurse both his beer and his ego. “Fuck all that…” he continued.

She tuned Steve out; she was existing minute by minute until she could lay eyes on Robert; somehow get him to give her a second chance. If only she had just gone to the hotel with him instead of caring about getting home that night! Why had she told him about Steve? She could kick herself for that. Doubts came flooding into her mind. What if he didn’t even give her the time of day? There were bound to be girls all over him and eager to bed him… Oh no, don’t think like that, she told herself. Positive thoughts Maggie, positive thoughts.

She jumped in the shower filled with anticipation, realizing excitedly that every minute that ticked by was another minute closer to Robert. Her heart skipped a beat. She was already a bundle of nerves.

Steve gave her the silent treatment as he got ready. He weighed the weed, separated it and placed it in baggies of different sizes so as to have the right amount readily available to slip to his customers. He cut up the sheets of acid into squares and shoved those into cellophane wrap in his leather pouch. While Steve tended to his business,

Maggie applied a little make-upto accentuate her amber eyes and lush lashes. She put gloss to her full lips and blush on her high cheekbones, which were a testimony to her heritage that spanned all the way back to the Taino Indians. The off-white mini-dress hugged her curves and the high platform sandals elongated her tanned legs. Even she could see her exotic beauty reflected as she gazed into the mirror. She smoothed her dress with her hands, took one last look and thought, Well, here it goes.

Soon they were in the Camaro headed toward the boat which Steve had already docked at the back of Tugboat Annies after leaving Carlos. He had chosen a corner spot, so as to minimize the number of prying eyes as he served his customers.

As they entered the venue, her eyes quickly scanned the crowd for any sign of Robert. The place was popular with the locals and she spotted several of Steve’s friends and customers. Good!, she thought, the more people around Steve, the better her chances to be free from his scrutiny.

Every table in the front area was taken, and there were only a few seats left at the L-shaped bar. As they got closer to the outside patio, it was standing room only. There were tall cocktail tables interspersed and she was able to claim a spot next to one. Steve followed her, carrying two drinks and handed her one. Close behind him came Kathy who had just arrived. She looked amazing in her halter top and jeans.

“Hey you two! Hows’ it going?”, Kathy asked as she reached them. Steve looked her from top to bottom, his gaze came to rest on her chest for a second too long. That little shit, she thought, and right in front of Maggie, too. He was such a prick.

Steve’s lecherous perusal of Kathy did not go unnoticed. Not only had it been blatant, it was also not the first time he had checked other women out with Maggie present. Maggie didn’t feel any jealousy. She simply rolled her eyes and motioned for Kathy to come over by her side.

“So where is this Robert person? Have you seen him yet?” Kathy whispered excitedly to Maggie.They both looked toward the small stage set up among the palm trees and the lush tropical plants that grew close to the docks. The small decorative lights and candles made the space festive. Suddenly, Maggie’s heart actually skipped a beat as she noticed Robert checking on the mic and laughing with a burly dark haired guy who was tinkering with the drums.

She was riveted, unable to move as she took him in… Roberts muscular torso was encased in a flowing fabric, a woman’s blouse it was…her eyes traveled south more slowly, relishing the skin-tight, red and white striped pants that could barely contain his bulge. The vertical lines somehow seemed to converge and draw even more attention to his crotch. By God, she could make out the outline of his cock and the roundness of his balls as clear as day. His virility was in full display, a feast for the eyes. And her body was hungry for it. Her breath caught in her throat and she exhaled sharply, her eyes eager to continue their journey down the musculature of his thighs…those strong legs had held them both up as they made love the night they met.

“Kathy!, there he is”, she cocked her head “he’s at the mic talking with the drummer!”.

Kathy’s jaw dropped as her eyes traveled the same route as Maggie’s…and she said under her breath “Oh my God, he’s…gorgeous…!”

The lights on the stage and the patio dimmed, signaling the concert was about to start. Steve leaned in to say “Come on, Maggie, let’s go to the boat… there’s people waiting on me. Gotta make some cash’ he winked at her, “and bring Kathy with ya”.

Maggie smiled and said, “Yea, sure, let me get another drink and use the bathroom, we’lll be over soon”. He’d forget all about it and lose track of time once he started showing off the boat and shooting the shit with his so-called friends.

Maggie grabbed Kathy by the arm as they made their way through the crowd. They claimed a spot near the stage, dead center. She hoped to make eye contact, to make sure he knew she was there. Her mind conjured up scenarios for later…

Soon after, Robert came out from the side of the stage to stand in the limelight. He shone with an inner light, or so it seemed. They started the set with the song he’d sang to her on the beach. Occasionally, he threw his head back, caressing the mic as if it were his lover. She couldnt’ help but stare at his ample bulge, clearly outlined through the striped fabric. He thrashed around, stretching the mic cord taut in front of him, moving his hips and arching his back. The better to accentuate his considerable endowment. How she ached to have him in her hands and then her mouth…but first things first. She must find a way to connect with him.

Halfway through first set, Robert looked out into the audience and saw a familiar face. It was Maggie, that beautiful gem of a girl that he had met on the beach. How could he forget the luscious love they made? And how could he forget that she’d turned down his invitation to go back to his hotel? Now, she was staring at him and swaying to the rhythm.

As they locked eyes, Maggie felt a flutter in her stomach and a tightness in her chest…her cheeks felt warm. She was blushing. As she listened to Robert’s voice amplified through the speakers, she happened to catch sight of Steve laughing with someone.

The passion in Robert’s voice reverberated to her core. Steve had become a faint and distant speck in the horizon of her mind, totally inconsequential. She felt no allegiance to him or to his mean spirit. She wanted nothing more than to be back in Robert’s arms, sheltered in his warm embrace.

During the intermission, Robert went down to the side bar. The cold beer he washed down soothed and seemed to lubricate his vocal chords. A pack of girls descended upon him, each girl competing for his attention. And he bantered with them, laughing and being his usual flirtatious self. But in truth, he was distracted, his eyes searching for Maggie. Robert located her.

Her dark hair was set off magnificently by the off-white dress that hugged her every curve. As he watched her he imagined his hands around that small waist, bending her over while he entered from behind. He had to have her.. he would have her. Tonight.

Robert gracefully extracted himself from the group of girls and walked towards Maggie. As he got closer, he motioned for her to follow him as he headed towards the back of the venue, where the bathrooms were located. Maggie trailed close behind.

One of the single bathrooms was vacant and Robert stood by the door, waiting for Maggie. He reached for her hand and led her inside, quickly locking the door behind him, He was the hunter and she was his prey, albeit a willing one.

“I didn’t think you’d come… but I’m so glad you did, Maggie.” his blue eyes were stormy with desire as he pinned her against the sink kissing her mouth, feeling her up. His movements were fast and furious.

Maggie caught sight of his obvious excitement which was made even more evident when he pressed himself against her. His large hands held the back of her head, pulling her to his lips and caressing her hair. His touch ignited a fire within her as he slid his hands down her back so as to lift the hem of her mini-dress.

“You wore this dress just for me didn’t you?” He asked with a smirk, as he kneaded her ass with both hands and ground his hips into hers.“You know it baby… for easy access” she replied.

She felt his rigid length through the thin striped fabric. Her hands reached down to cup his balls, giving them a good squeeze…massaging his cock and quickly working the zipper, to reveal her magic prize. Maggie felt herself getting wet as she admired him, half naked in front of her. They groped each other urgently. He kissed her hard, while at the same time he pushed the lace of her panties to the side and glided two fingers into her wet core. In and out, then rubbing her folds.

“You are so ready” he said huskily, as he quickly twirled her around so she was facing the mirror.

He bent her over the vanity, her breasts rubbing against the hard, cold marble, she saw the scene reflected in the mirror. Robert was standing behind her, still clothed in the silky blouse, but completely naked from the waist down, one hand pushing down on the small of her back, and the other guiding his thick cock to her entrance…she felt the hot tip of his manhood plunge into her, filling her to capacity in one deep thrust. Her eyes flew open from the sensation as he let out a moan.

She would forever remember the vision of Robert behind her, thrusting, grinding his hips, his stomach tensing, and his hands wrapped firmly around her waist. He guided her up and down his rigid length.They picked up the pace, fast and furious, his balls slapping against her ass as he thrust all 10 inches into her.

“Give it to me” she gasped. She felt as if she was climbing on a rollercoaster, higher and higher until suddenly there was an intense, exhilarating release; wave after wave of ecstasy.

Maggie was so tight and his girth was enveloped by her warm walls. “It’s so good, dariling, so good… I’m gonna… “ he groaned and plunged deeper and harder -creating an immense heat. He knew he was right behind her as he felt her contract. This pushed him over the precipice. He moaned and thrust one last time as his essence filled her. His legs shook.

She saw him in the mirror, eyes half closed in pleasure as he bent over and laid his chest on her back. Spent. He swept her hair away from the nape of her neck so as trail soft kisses.. He was draped over her, his soft, golden curls tickling her back…and she liked – a lot.

At that exact moment, a nondescript van sat parked outside Tugboat Annie’s. Two undercover cops had their binoculars trained on the vessel emblazoned on the back with the name “Double Trouble. They watched a stream of people coming in and out. Someone was brazen enough (or stupid enough) to take out a bag of marijuana and roll a joint right out in the open. Carlos, their informant, had been right, there was definitely dealing going on here. They readied themselves to go inside and take a closer look.

#Chapter 6 #maggie and robert #hoped you enjoyed it #master post has previous chapters

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bbrandy2002 · 4 years

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Happy Birthday Burnsy!

@burnsoslow

Burns,

You probably don't remember this, but the first time I ever talked to you was a reply to your comment on my fic, The Breakfast Club, in early July. I'm not sure what possessed you to reach out to me a week later in chats but, you did and its been one wild and crazy ride since then. You've certainly come a long way since we were new and mulling over those earlier stories-or in your case-Heavier Things, Chapter 1 (YOU ARE STILL WRITING THAT...LOL) . And while you have sooooo many friends here, for some reason you chose me to be your Tumbler Bestie. I hope you know you are so much more than that though ... you're my sister, my twinsie, a truly good friend. You've inspired me in ways you'll never know. I have watched you grow in your craft and reach an unprecedented level of talent that is evidenced in the quality of your work and through the amount of enthusiastic readers who can't wait for you to post the next epic chapter. You did it all through a tremendous amount of hard work, lot of tears and because you have a likeness that draws people to you. You're just truly an incredibly, special person who possesses a certain spark that makes this crazy place even better. And I think I tell you enough, but you really are one of the best writers in this fandom. And as you say to me all the time, I'm gonna say to you ... I'm one proud TBFF!! I can't thank you enough for all the late night laughs, bull sessions, real talks, 6 hour chats about nothing, letting me know when I'm being a dumbass or just being there when things get really, really tough. The fic I wrote isn't anything special and definitely could have been better, however I hope in some small way it captures the essence of our crazy friendship. Keep growing and shining and being your amazing self.

Love you my friend and Happy Birthday!!

Brandy

**You asked for Drake, Alyssa, Riley and Liam shenanigans. I don't know if this will be what you were expecting, but its what I came up with after 20 different versions. You'll recognize some of this as inside jokes or dialogue and situations from your own stories (yep, I stole them...lol). This is wacky and crazy and makes no sense. Okay Im shutting up now.

Thank you @sirbeepsalot for gutting the hell out of this on Monday night and @emceesynonymroll for SO MUCH of your help and suggestions. Also to my lovely pre-readers/keep me saners @jessiembruno and @loveellamae

Song Inspiration: You're Still The One by Shania Twain. **Drakes final dialogue will come from these lyrics.

Alyssa pulled her black mini-van through the palace gates, running over a cone and nearly taking out Michael, the security guard, in the process. Her hair was swept up into a very messy bun and her sunglasses were perched atop her head. She was wearing a blue, faded Bears sweatshirt, black leggings with a small hole in the crotch, and a mismatched pair of flip-flops -- both were for the left foot. Unable to find a close parking space, she double-parked her van in two handicapped-accessible spaces. She checked her reflection in the rear view mirror and wiped away the smudges of mascara that had run below her eyes.

She was hurt and mad as hell, yet waited until, 'DIRRTY’, finished on the radio before shutting the van off and tossing the keys in her oversized mom purse. Alyssa’s dainty fingers fumbled hastily as she tried to release the lock on her seatbelt with no luck. "You son of a bitch! Let me go!"

After pulling and tugging, twisting and karate chopping at it as hard as she could, she finally freed herself.

“HAHA! MOTHERFUCKER! GOTCHA!”

Alyssa snatched her purse and cell phone before she swung the door open, hopped out, and kicked the door shut. Still mumbling obscenities, she walked a few paces before turning back around and hitting the van’s hood with her swinging purse. “Fucking hold me hostage like that again and I’m driving your ass into a ravine!”

Everyone who knows Alyssa Walker would say she is generally a fun, loving, and sociable little woman. She’s a devoted wife who has been married to the man of her dreams for several years and a wonderful mother to their children. She's very successful professionally, having served as the Royal Education Director for 8 years. A social butterfly of sorts, she’s been known to give Maxwell a run for his money, in regards to being considered the life of any party. On most days, Alyssa is typically outgoing and joyful.

Today is not one of those days.

Her flip flops were barely hanging on as she trudged across the lawn that led to the palace gardens, thoughts of her morning crossed her mind.

For every single birthday since marrying Drake, she would wake up to the smell of bacon, scrambled eggs, and french toast wafting through the cabin. She would lay in bed and pretend to sleep until Drake and the kids burst in with a tray full of freshly prepared foods, a hot cup of coffee, and a glass of orange juice. They would shower her with kisses and hugs, sing Happy Birthday, and then wait anxiously as Alyssa took the first bite to see if their mother approved of the time and effort they put into making her birthday morning special. When she finished, like clockwork, Drake would send the kids outside with the eldest child and give Alyssa a gift that only he could give her; one that required the skilled use of his lips, hands, and the colossus that was his … well … colossus.

Except, there were no bacon, eggs, or french toast. There were no kids jumping on the bed to wish her a happy birthday and fighting over which one hugged her first. Drake did not send the kids away when she finished her breakfast nor had she risen from the bed barely able to walk from the most mind-blowing sex she’d ever had.

None of the things she expected happened.

When Alyssa woke up this morning no one was home. All she found was a letter by the coffee pot from Drake, telling her the kids went with Maxwell for the day and that he would see her after work. To make things worse, her 20 attempts to call him that morning went straight to voicemail.

Drake had been working late and acting shady for months, telling her he was helping Liam take care of some horses they were preparing for next month's derby. Lately, she was beginning to wonder if there was something more he wasn’t telling her.

Now she was late for her luncheon with Riley.

As Alyssa rounded the corner that entered the gardens, she saw Riley on the patio arranging a tray of fresh fruit and sandwiches on the table. An array of metallic birthday balloons danced and bounced from the chairs with the changing breeze. Alyssa frowned with resentment towards her best friend of over 20 years. Bitch is still in her 30s.

Riley’s focus was averted when she heard the sound of rustling leaves behind her. She turned on her heels and said, “Happy 40th Birthday, Old Lady!” Her cheery voice trailed off when she caught sight of her disheveled friend.

“Lyss? What the hell happened to you? You look like shit.”

Alyssa strode past Riley and threw her purse on the ground beside a chair before she slumped down into it.

Riley furrowed her brows with a snicker. “Bad day?”

Alyssa reached for a strawberry and dipped the entire berry, stem and all, into a dish of melted chocolate before leaving behind a trail of droplets from the dish to her mouth. As she chewed, she mewled. “Ma life if ofer!”

Riley scrunched up her face and arched back in an attempt to avoid the spittle of food that sprayed from her friend’s full mouth. She sighed heavily, grabbed a napkin, and wiped away the chunks of fruit-and-chocolate-mixed saliva that landed on her arm. “Oookaay, what’s going on? Why is your life over?”

Alyssa threw the stem on her plate and leaned forward into the table, gesticulating dramatically. “He didn’t tell me happy birthday, Ri! There was no breakfast, there was no spoiling, there was no fucking, colossus dick! There was nothing!”

“Who? Drake?”

“No, fucking Santa Clause! Of course Drake.”

Riley bit into her sandwich as Alyssa complained about Drake’s lack of attentiveness over the past few months. It wasn't the first time her friend had mentioned this to her; however, judging by how upset she was and the fact that she was dressed like a $2 hooker, she knew it was really serious now.

Alyssa continued to point out how Drake was always working and, supposedly, was helping Liam out with the horses too. When he returned home each night, his clothes were sweaty and dirty but never smelled like horse shit. To make things worse, the sex had dwindled. Alyssa could give up a lot of things in life, but Drake's dick was not one of them.

“I know he’s cheating, Ri,” she lamented, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.

“Nooo.”

“YES! He’s found another woman … someone younger, sluttier, who hasn't popped out a bunch of kids!”

Riley scoffed. “Lyss, everyone knows Drake worships the ground you walk on. I’m sure there is a good reason why he hasn’t paid as much attention to you lately.”

“But he KNOWS I’m needy and clingy and desperate for love!” she wailed.

Riley lifted the napkin from her lap and tossed it on the table. Her friend was a hot mess -- a more than usual hot mess -- and she wanted to help. She stood and walked around the table to her grieved friend and grabbed her tiny hand. “Come on.”

Alyssa’s weepy eyes stared up at her in confusion before she let out a small sniffle. “Where are we going?”

“We are going to the stables. You said he is there today, so let's go talk to him.”

Alyssa sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. “I’m not going, Ri. He needs to come to me!”

Riley began pulling on her friend's arm, but Alyssa was not being very cooperative with her efforts. “Get your ass out of the chair, Lyss, and go get your man.”

Alyssa pulled back harder. “Get off me, you skank ass ho!”

Riley continued to tug at her, surprised there was so much strength in such a little body. “Bitch, I will drag your ass and this chair all the way to the stables!”

“I’d like to see you try, dumbass!”

With a hard jerk from Riley, Alyssa’s chair tipped over and she landed on the ground. Her resolve never once faded. While Riley continued to tug at her arm, Alyssa reached over and grabbed her broken flip flop and began smacking vigorously back at her.

Riley immediately let go of her and stumbled backwards. “You have gone insane!” she groaned. “I tried to help you and, if this is how you’re gonna act, leave me out of it!” She turned to walk away and glanced back quickly. “You know the way out.”

“Ri … wait.” Alyssa called out softly to her.

Riley stopped and quirked her brow with a huff. “What?”

“Can palace security take us down? You know my ass ain’t walking that far.”

Riley called for a guard to take the 30-second drive to the stables. Both girls hopped off the cart and entered the empty barn. Riley called out for members of the stable staff while Alyssa’s eyes roamed the perimeter for her husband.

“Your Majesty? Did you need something?”

Riley turned to face the man in charge as he walked around the corner wiping his hands off with an old cloth. Before she could acknowledge him, Alyssa popped in front of her, nearly knocking her over.

“Eric!! Where’s Drake?”

The Queen smiled at the stable manager. “Eric, we’re looking for Drake.”

He looked between the two women, confusion etched across his face. “Is he supposed to be here, ma’am?”

Riley looked at Alyssa, who looked like she was ready to snap at his question, then back to Eric. “Um … yes. He told Mrs. Walker here that he would be helping in the stables today.”

“Hell … I’d say its been a good --” Eric paused to calculate before turning his attention back to the women. “--three … maybe four weeks since I last saw Walker here. Came down with King Liam to take the newest horse, Driam, out for a ride … it made me real hard ma’am”

“Hold the fuck up!” Alyssa yelled with one hand on her hip and the other covering her forehead. “He told me he has been helping out here for the last several months. Is that not true?”

Eric, realizing what is going on, backed up defensively. He could sense this was not something he wanted to be a part of. “Nope. I'm not getting in the middle of your marital woes, Ms. Alyssa.” I just want in the middle of your husbands.

Alyssa approached him and aggressively poked at his chest. “Oh, you are in so far in the middle of my woes now, Ricky boy! So drop the bros before hoes bullshit and spill what you know.”

Riley grabbed both of Alyssa's shoulders from behind and pulled her aside. “It’s not his fault, Lyss. Plus … I think Eric’s the ho in this case”

Alyssa shrugged her away and began to pace back and forth frantically. “I’m seeing sounds, Ri. I am seeing fucking sounds all over this bitch!”

“Oh God, Lyss! No! Don’t look at the sounds ... Don’t look at the sounds” She turned her frantic friend around to face her, squeezing her arms soothingly. “Look at me.”

Alyssa’s lips quivered as she stared back at her best friend. “I’ve lost him, Ri. I’ve lost him.”

“No, you haven’t.”

Alyssa sniffled through her tears and wiped her nose on her shirt sleeve. “Can me and the kids live with you now that I’m a single mother with a cheating ass husband?”

Riley pulled her into a hug, rubbing comfortingly along her back. “Of course you can, but maybe we should talk to Liam first.”

Lyss wiped her tear-stained face on Riley's shoulder and pulled back. “Liam loves me. He won’t care if I stay with you.”

Riley smiled with a nod. “Yes, he does love you, but Drake loves you too and you know that. There has to be a good explanation for everything.”

“Then why did he lie? He’s never lied to me, Ri.”

Riley gave her friend a sympathetic frown and shrugged. “I don’t know, girl, but let’s find out”

Palace security was once again summoned to haul the girls back to the palace.

Liam was in his office taking part in a video conference with Queen Elizabeth when his door burst open.

“WHERE IS MY HUSBAND?!”

His eyes went wide as he cut them to the flash of Alyssa barging in and stopping behind him at his desk; Riley was just a step behind her. Liam’s face flushed as he looked back at the camera and apologized for the interruption.

“Alyssa, dear,” he whispered. “Now is not a good time.” He motioned to the video feed on his laptop.

Alyssa turned to the laptop with the 106-year-old Queen’s face still illuminating from it. “Turn the hearing aid down, Lizzie! Unless you know where Drake is, this conversation doesn’t concern you!”

“ALYSSA!!” Liam stood, towering over her petite frame. “Are you coming for your King?” (had to put that in there lol).

“Liam, she's had a rough day and, remember, we love Alyssa,” Riley interjected with an innocent smile.

“We do, but she can’t just barge in here while I’m working!”

Alyssa grabbed his tie and yanked him down closer to her face. “Please, just tell me you know where Drake is. He said he was working for you and he’s not. He didn’t tell me happy birthday, he didn’t make my breakfast, and he didn’t fuck my brains out this morning!”

“Oh My!”

Alyssa turned back to the laptop. “I thought I told you to turn your hearing aid down, you old coot!”

Liam’s hands covered his face in embarrassment as he fell back into his chair.

Alyssa crouched down in front of Liam and pulled his hands from his face. “Real talk, Li. Did you or did you not ask Drake to work for you?”

He stared at her for a moment with a deer-in-the-headlights look. He knew exactly where his best friend was and what he was doing -- he had known for months -- but he couldn’t tell her that.

Nervous, Liam knew there was one way to solve this problem. He reached over to his intercom and pressed the call button. “Bastien.”

A split second later, the door to Liam’s office opened and the head guard entered. “Your Majesty?” he said as he bowed.

“Yes, could you see Alyssa and my wife out, please.”

Exasperated with Liam's request, Alyssa stood back up and eyed Bastien with a steely glare. “I’m not afraid of this bitch! He’s the one who raised the man whore my husband became with all his hookers and shit. My children are fatherless now because of you!”

Refusing to leave, Alyssa plopped down on Liam’s lap and gripped the armrests of his chair tightly with both hands. Her bony ass caused him to yelp as it dug into the muscles of his thigh. She reached for Liam’s scotch and took a sip before leaning down so that her face could be picked up by the camera.

“Alright, Liz, help a fellow girl out here! You have a lot of experience with a cheating ass spouse and son … should I rip his big, beautiful nuts off? Orrrr … just take it up the ass like you did?"

The Queen of England clutched her chest with an exasperated expression. "Little lady … your behavior is simply prudish and insulting. I highly suggest you learn proper etiquette when addressing me … and, as for your husband, I can see why the poor man's eyes have roamed with such an immoral and, need I dare say, crazed woman such as yourself for a wife."

"Conversation over, bitch!" Alyssa threw the rest of Liam’s drink at the screen, hoping it drenched the queen and slammed the laptop shut.

"God Dammit!" Liam yelled out while he wrapped his arms around her from behind before standing up and handing her off to his guard.

With Bastien holding Alyssa in his arms, her little legs dangling and kicking at his shins, Riley took action.

The Queen grabbed her friend's feet, which were now bare from her crumbled flip flops, and tried with all her might to pull her back.

"You’re gonna break her hip, Bastien! She's an old, feeble woman now! She could have osteoporosis or the menopause!”

Giving their best efforts to escape, including Alyssa's teeth being firmly sunk into Bastien’s upper arm, neither were able to overpower his strength.

While carrying Alyssa and dragging Riley -- who was still holding onto her friends legs -- Bastien was able to get the two of them out of Liam's office and into the main corridor.

Alyssa followed Riley back to her quarters, where she was given a pair of flip-flops and new leggings from Riley’s 12-year-old daughter’s closet. The hole in the crotch of her leggings had completely blown out during the struggle with Bastien. There were still no answers or replies from Drake, and Alyssa was beginning to feel utterly hopeless.

Alyssa started to raid the royal couple’s liquor cabinet, happy to swipe a bottle of Balkan vodka, when Riley had an idea. She snapped her fingers with a sly grin. “I know someone who can help us find Drake.”

“Who?”

The ladies left the quarters and walked downstairs to the ballroom. Once inside, Alyssa took a hard swig of vodka and eyed the utility closet Riley stopped in front of with a questioning look.

The Queen gave four quick knocks followed by two slow ones and the door unlocked. Mara had been working out of this closet for years, having been fired after a fall out with Alyssa during a costume ball that nearly got her killed. The former guard walked in there during that ball and just never came back out. Riley and Bastien were the only two people who knew about this and told no one -- Bastien purely for comical reasons and Riley for a certain skill the woman possessed.

Alyssa was surprised to find the woman hiding out there after all these years. "I thought you fired her ass! I nearly got a traumatic brain injury and hearing loss from her incompetence!"

"Shhh!" Riley pulled her friend inside, peeking around the ballroom to ensure no one was looking, and shut the door quickly.

Riley explained how Liam revoked her cell phone pinging privileges with the guards before the costume ball all those years ago. Apparently, he wasn't too keen on her stalking the entire cast of Friends. He did what he had to do when a restraining order from Matthew Perry came across his desk. Mara, however, was still able to ping into anyone’s phone, thus, the Queen allowed her to stay.

“That's amazing,” Alyssa remarked. She pursed her lips as she scanned the tight space of the closet. “Can she find … maybe … Dwayne Johnson?”

Riley nodded. “Bitch can find anyone.” She looked to Mara, who was sitting at her desk, and winked with approval.

“Okay,” Alyssa clapped and leaned over Mara’s shoulder. “Let’s find him … I wanna know where Drake is!”

Within several seconds, an unfamiliar address popped up on the screen. It was close to the Walker cabin but still not somewhere Alyssa knew of.

She reached for a pen and a pad of paper from Mara’s desk and started to write down the location. ��I can’t believe he lied to me this whole time! I must be really stupid for him to think he could actually get away with this.” Alyssa tossed the pen back on the desk and ripped the sheet of paper off the pad. “They’re gonna write a country song about me, Ri,” she cried. “Poppa’s in the graveyard and Momma’s in the pen! I just need a shotgun and for my damn dog to run away and I’ve got a hit!”

The two snuck out of the utility closet and ran to Alyssa’s van. Alyssa pulled the ticket for double parking in handicapped spaces from her wiper blade and threw it in her glove box with the rest of her parking tickets. Riley shoveled away the piles of empty, diet coke cans and cheese whisps bags from the passenger seat into the parking lot when she opened her door.

Alyssa squealed her tires as she burned rubber down the palace drive, taking out the same cone again, nearly running down Michael again, and driving straight through the lowered arm of the security gate.

“WOOOO!” Riley yelled as they sped through the streets of Cordonia into the countryside. “This is just like old times in college, huh, Lyss?”

“I suppose. We’re just not high as fuck.” Alyssa raised her eyebrows and grinned slyly with an all too familiar gleam in her eyes that Riley recognized immediately. “Say … grab my purse, Ri.”

“Oh God! I know that look. We're gonna get smashed aren't we?" Riley extended her arm behind the driver's seat. Alyssa reached into the side pocket of her purse and pulled out the rolled up, clear baggie and tossed it to her friend.

Unrolling the bag, Riley began to bounce in her seat with anticipation of smoking weed for the first time in 15 years. The excitement quickly faded.

“Um, Lyss?”

“Hmm?”

“I know I haven’t smoked pot in a while, but this looks like a bag of carrot sticks.”

“Give me that, dumbass!” Alyssa glanced over and snatched the bag. She held the bag over the steering wheel and examined it for herself. “Well fuck!! Looks like one of my kids had a really interesting snack yesterday at school. Oh well”

After a twenty-minute drive from the palace into a forested section of Cordonia, Alyssa and Riley stopped in front of a long gravel road. Riley double-checked the address on the van’s GPS with what was written on the paper.

“It says this is it. Look’s kind of desolate,” Riley mused, not sure where the isolated road would lead.

Alyssa turned the steering wheel of her van, probably a little too tipsy to drive considering she had consumed a quarter of a bottle of vodka (that the author of this story forgot about). They made it there, nonetheless, and no one was hurt. Never drink and drive!!

Lush, plentiful trees and a wooden fence lined the gravel road that seemed to lead to nowhere until they came upon a clear view of Lake Cordonia. Drake’s truck was sitting in front of a large wooden cabin with a huge, flat yard and one of the most stunning views of the lake either woman had seen anywhere. Alyssa tried to keep it together ... until she didn’t. When she saw Drake standing on the front porch, casually drinking a beer, shirtless and wiping his forehead with his denim shirt, she skidded the van into park next to his truck.

Drake’s eyes widened when he saw his wife get out of the van wielding an ice scraper in one hand and a tire iron in the other, a look of pure hell in her eyes.

He took a small step back. He hadn’t seen her like this since a drunken Olivia grabbed his ass at a Beaumont Bash two years ago. Drake waved his hands in front of her defensively. “Baby girl … wh … what’s going on right now?”

“Don’t you baby girl me!” Alyssa threw the ice scraper and Drake ducked just in time as it flew over his head.

Drake had no idea what the hell she was so pissed off about, but she was approaching him quickly and twirling the tire iron in her hands. He jumped over the railing of the porch and took off running around the side of the house. As he rounded the rear corner of the home, he ran directly into Riley, who was waiting to block him. The plan was a good one -- it really was -- but her thin frame was no match against the much larger Drake. With a hard thud, Riley fell backward, which caused his body to trip over her and land face down on the ground.

Drake rolled over on his back and shook his head in an attempt to get the daze out of his frazzled brain. There she was, standing over him, holding the tire iron like a bat, ready to pounce him without a second thought.

“Baby! Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“You … you’re a cheater and a liar!”

Drake went to sit up but laid back down when Alyssa flinched the hardened steel at him. “The fuck you talking about, Lyssa?”

With months of building suspicions and hurt, Alyssa took a long, deep breath and let it all out with a wail.

“I’m talking about the late nights, the shady-as-shit lies you have spewed to me over and over again. I’m talking about you missing out on dinners, coming home and falling on the bed without a word to anyone. I’m talking about only having sex with me every other day and forgetting my birthday. Now, me and the kids have to live with Liam, who hates me now because I told Queen Elizabeth she got fucked in the ass! It’s because I’m old now, isn’t it? You wanna be a Bastien and have bunga bunga sex parties with skank ass whores who have big boobies and wear their panties around their ankles! And … I just can’t compete, Drake … I just can’t.”

Drake held his hand up to block any sudden swings in his direction. “Can I get up?”

Alyssa nodded her head before she turned away from him and dropped the tire iron to the ground. “Just tell why, dammit?” she whimpered. “Was I not enough?!”

“Not enough? NOT ENOUGH?!!” He quickly rose to his feet, twisted her around and brought her flush against his hard body. With tears in his eyes, he kissed the top of her head, his thick hands sunken into her lush, brown hair. He was barely able to mutter a single word. He was visibly shaken and broken by her accusations and that she held those feelings about herself for so long.

With both hands now on the sides of her face, he tilted her head so that she was looking directly at him. “Alyssa!” he sobbed softly. “Don’t you dare ever say you aren’t enough for me … ever! You’re literally my whole world. In every single life, in any alternate universe … I choose you every single time. And you wanna know what I’ve been doing? Look!” He turned her around to face the house.

“This is what I’ve been doing all those months! I built it, with my bare hands, just for you, for your birthday. I wanted you to have a bigger home so you could get out of that small cabin and have the view and the yard you always dreamt of. I wasn’t cheating and I didn't forget your birthday. I just wanted you to have everything you deserve”

Alyssa gave Drake a quizzical look. “But … you’re terrible at woodworking.”

Drake chuckled. “Maybe I love you enough I learned.”

Alyssa sunk to her knees, not to give a blow job, but realization and understanding of the last few months had set in. She stared up at the beautiful, two-story log cabin that had every bit of her husband’s heart and soul for her in it and wept. “Drake.” Her voice was raspy and full of guilt. “I’m so, so sorry.’

He crouched down behind her and wrapped his loving arms around Alyssa before placing a gentle nip at her ear. “You've nothing to be sorry for. I guess I gave you plenty of reasons to think that, but I was crunched for time and wanted to surprise you. Just hope you like it.”

“It’s magnificent … and it’s our home?”

“It's our home. Happy Birthday, Baby girl.”

Drake and Alyssa checked on Riley, who was still knocked out cold. After assisting her and giving her a moment to collect herself, Alyssa thanked her friend for all of her help and gave her the keys to the van to return home in.

Drake showed his wife around their new cabin, pointing out the lowered cabinets in the kitchen that would be easier for her to reach. He had built her a library where she could work from and read without the noise and chaos of a house full of children running around. She was thrilled over the balcony that sat just off their bedroom, overlooking the lake and featuring private jacuzzi tub where they could relax together and, of course, have sex in.

Drake took her outside and walked down to the lake, where he had put a gazebo in overlooking the water and ushered her to the center of it.

“Drake! This is amazing. How did you know I wanted this?”

He drew her closer to him and kissed the tip of her nose. “I know everything about you, Lyssa … there’s nothing I wouldn’t give you.”

She smiled up at him lovingly. “And I love you so much for it.”

He reached for one of her tiny hands, brought it to his chest, and wrapped his other arm around her back. With very little room between them, he kissed her lips tenderly. “Dance with me, Alyssa.”

Alyssa gave him a knowing look with a grin. “Drake Walker doesn’t like to dance.”

He began to sway with her to music that wasn’t there, but he felt it in his heart. “Drake Walker will always dance with his girl.” Kissing her once more, they began to slowly dance together and Alyssa had never felt more alive or loved in her life. He has that effect on her--always had and always will.

He spun her in a twirl and pulled her tiny body back into his own. “Ya know, Lyssa … when I first saw you, I saw love.”

Drake reached down and lifted the bottom of her sweatshirt over her head and tossed it on a nearby bench. He caressed her cheek and trailed a gentle line down her neck and across her shoulder. “And the first time you touched me, Baby Girl ...I felt love.”

His lips found that sweet spot just behind her ear before he whispered to her. “And after all this time ...”

Drake’s thumb grazed across her bottom lip before he stared into the blue eyes of his yesterday, today, and forever. “You’re still the one I love.”

What happens next? .......

#drake walker #drake x ALYSSA #alyssa devereaux

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missmonsters2 · 5 years

Text

The Color of You || Part II

PAIRING: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader/OFC

Summary: It was another mission Natasha was assigned to. Nothing she hasn’t done before. Same mission, different people. Sent undercover to investigate William Cain, suspect to funding terrorism and smuggling weaponry. Under the disguise of Natanya Rovinski, Natasha is ready for another routine mission. Until she met you, William’s fiancé.

Warnings: There are dark elements to this series. Also, smut later on.

Genre: Angst, Romance, Drama, Action

NOTE: I’ve been aggressively reading on color therapy & the psychology of color LOL You’re more than welcome to comment/reply to this post if you would like to be added to a tag list.

PART I

PART II of X

Count: 3715

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Natasha was in the middle of her living room, looking over William’s profile again.

She spread out the photos provided to her before leaning back with her fingers holding her chin.

Natasha was still working on her plan.

Maria had helped her set up dedicated funds to her mission to use as his investor, but she needed more than that.

She needed more than just being a sponsor to him.

She needed to get into his inner circle.

Idly tapping her chin, Natasha’s thoughts wandered to you from the other night. The sight of you tucking your hair behind your ear and demure smile wouldn’t leave her mind.

How did someone like you end up with someone like William?

The sound of her phone vibrating brought her out of her thoughts.

Clint: How’s it going over there?

It was Clint texting her to check in on her. Again.

Nat: It’s fine. Stop texting me unless you’re dying.

Clint: ...Rude...

Natasha rolled her eyes with a light smile before looking at the clock. Sighing, she stood up to get prepared for tonight’s events.

William was hosting another event, but this time as part of his political campaign. He was hosting it in his home, so it was a big opportunity for Natasha to look around.

Her goal of the night was still to obviously information gather but to also take a look around in his home, and secure a personal invite over where there would be more one-on-one time.

It would also give her an opportunity to get to know you better as well. That night when she caught your eye from across the room, it was like an electrical bolt hitting her that you were more than just a trophy wife to William.

And when Natasha got that feeling, she was certainly always right.

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“You know, this wouldn’t be so bad if you just imagine that you’re on fire and the building is collapsing.”

Natasha snorted as David took a sip from his drink.

“Tell us how you really feel,” she replied with a smirk.

Though she couldn’t blame him. God, she was bored out of her mind. The amount of old white men she had spoken to already this evening was already numbing her mind.

Natasha had arrived at an appropriate time, neither early nor too late. William had approached her within minutes of her arriving, driving her into a conversation about his campaign, and her thoughts. She had merely nodded her head at the time about his interesting policies, occasionally saying something that would suggest to him that she agreed or shared the same ideology.

When more guests started to pour in, William regarded her with his own smile, asking if she would be free sometime in the next couple of days to have lunch with him.

It was secured and almost entirely too easy.

Just as the right amount of guests came to keep William busy, she disappeared off to snoop around.

She checked the place from head to toe, every nook and cranny.

But she didn’t find anything suspicious, not even a book out of place. Everything was where it was meant to be.

And that was off to Natasha. It was like everything was staged to show what William wanted people to see, but Natasha saw that whatever William was hiding, she wouldn’t find it here.

“So,” David said, breaking Natasha out of her thoughts. “What did you think of William’s fiancé?”

“Have you met her?” Natasha asked in return, watching as David nodded once.

“Yes, I kind of want to ask her to blink twice if she’s being held against her will because there’s no way William managed to woo a girl like that.”

Natasha chuckled throatily, trying to contain the full burst of laughter that truly wanted to come out. She was coming to appreciate her time spent with David, a man who clearly shared many similar thoughts to her and had no problem saying them out loud.

“This party is as riveting as watching paint dry, and I think I’ve stayed my obligatory time, I’m going to head out? Are you staying?” David asked as he put his drink down against the bar, dusting his hands off.

“Just a little longer,” Natasha answered. It didn’t feel like she had gotten enough intel on anything other than whatever William was hiding was most likely off base. Not to even mention she hadn’t seen you tonight either.

“Alright,” David said, taking a step forward before turning to her. “If you’re not doing anything tomorrow, come to my estate and have lunch with me.”

Natasha raised her brow at David but nodded, bidding him goodbye as he left. For another 45 minutes, she made an effort to talk to more people at the party, easily being able to identify who would be sponsoring and donating to William’s campaign. There were a couple of men and women she made a mental note to look into more as they were clearly radicals.

After Natasha felt like she had done enough for the night, she made a move to leave. As she passed the balcony though, she caught a similar silhouette. She opened the door quietly, pushing through the thick red curtain to find you standing out there alone against the railing. You were wearing another long-sleeved dress that revealed nothing but your curves.

Natasha closed the door softly, content that it shut out the unintelligible noises from inside.

“Are you not enjoying the party?”

You whipped around, body tensed with a sharp turn of your head at Natasha’s presence.

“I--”

You coughed lightly, a blush dusting your cheeks as you admitted slowly, “I don’t fit in well with this type of crowd.”

That was interesting, Natasha thought.

From what Natasha knew, you were from an affluential family, although you did just make it out of bankruptcy.

This was supposed to be your crowd.

“That’s alright. You’re all the better for not fitting in.” Natasha walked up to the ledge next to you, resting her elbow up before propping her chin on it. There was a slight breeze that brushed against Natasha’s fingers.

She looked over subtly to you, her eyes drawing down to your neatly trimmed nails, spotting a small line of paint just on the side of your ring finger. Natasha ran her tongue along the inside of her mouth at the sight.

You had your head tilted downwards and slightly to the side, it gave a great view of your slender neck and defined collarbone as you had a soft smile to what Natasha had said.

It was the small things like this that caused the confusion in Natasha.

You had chosen a man like William Cain to be your husband, and for some reason, Natasha couldn’t ignore that.

But Natasha could feel that a direct approach with you would cause you to close yourself off. She needed to be careful.

“And what about you, Miss Rovinski? Are you someone who fits in?” You asked quietly in return.

It was quiet for a moment, and Natasha licked her bottom lip slowly.

“I guess you can say I fit in anywhere but belong nowhere,” Natasha admitted quietly, and when she went to see your expression, it was as if you were not surprised by the answer.

Perhaps seeing that quality in Natasha.

“Do you want to know something interesting?” Natasha asked, and it seemed the question surprised you, but you nodded, albeit a little hesitantly.

“A few days ago I went to a local café in the morning, and I had overheard a conversation between two men who couldn’t understand how society, women, in particular, were so invested in art and fashion. There was too much emphasis on art, and it was overrated.”

Natasha caught your nervousness at the statement and quirked her lips.

“I didn’t agree with the sentiment as they commented on how the café looked bare and too plain--a problem only art could solve, isn’t that right?”

You hadn’t quite reacted to Natasha’s story, unsure where she was really going with this.

“I went to an artist’s gallery opening a couple months ago, and it featured a painting of a local village she had experienced in her travels. It was filled with such vibrant colors, sharp and soft. No words had accompanied the painting, yet people crowded around it, overwhelmed with emotion. Some people cried, some laughed loudly, and some were echoed by the image--are you understanding me?”

You nodded slowly.

“So, I’ve decided that sometimes art is the only thing that can draw out what people may truly be feeling, leaves a mark that words cannot reach,” Natasha said as she looked up at the starry sky.

Natasha turned back and gave you a quiet, warm smile. “That’s why I envy artists sometimes for being able to reach people in a different light.”

The hesitance and stiffness in you melted away with Natasha’s words, a rare genuine smile gracing your lips for her.

Natasha pulled back her arms, looking towards the door.

This was enough for tonight.

Natasha was leaving before your voice stopped her.

“Thank you...your words have reached me...and they make me incredibly happy.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Natasha stood in front of two large mahogany doors before they opened to reveal Davidl standing there.

“Natanya, you made it! Did you find it okay?” He greeted her, pulling her into a slight hug and kisses on either side of her cheeks.

“Yes, my driver seemed to know exactly where he was going.” It seemed like all luxurious private drivers knew where the big players were.

“Come on in, I’ve got someone preparing us tea and lunch. Are you allergic to anything or any preferences?” David asked as he ushered her in. It was quite a walk to his patio outside. A full garden with a pond and fountain that was well maintained was the view.

“No, anything will be fine,” Natasha said as she took her seat, placing her small purse onto the table.

David sat across from her, crossing his legs so that his ankle rested against his thigh, and temple resting against his knuckles.

“Someone else will be coming too,” David said with a casual smile. “My boyfriend.”

Natasha raised her brow. That had explained some things.

“Why tell me that? What if I was extremely homophobic?” Natasha asked, only to see what David would say.

David let out a genuine laughter.

“Please,” he said after his laugh. “We flock together like birds. I’ve seen you eyeing various women throughout the parties--and men, although it looked like you were eyeing them begrudgingly.”

Natasha wasn’t sure if David had a better eye than she thought or if his gaydar was just that good, either way, she did feel a little exposed.

“What’s your boyfriend like?” Natasha asked, changing the topic from her.

David smiled softly, “Liam’s a photographer. He doesn’t come from money which I like. He’ll call me out on my shit if he thinks I’m being a dickhead. You should see him when I try to do extravagant things.”

David was chuckling by the end of it, the softness bringing a small smile to Natasha’s lips.

“Do your parents know?” Natasha asked.

“Yep,” David sighs. “They think it’s just a phase, but Liam is the one for me, I’m pretty sure. Since I’m the only child, my parents haven’t cut me off yet because they want me to take over the business. Once they see how serious I am, I have no idea how they’ll react. I’m fully prepared to be cut off, but Liam’s been teaching me about putting money away in case that happens.”

Natasha couldn’t help but smile at how endearing this all sounded, a rich man with learning how to save and budget from his financially average boyfriend.

The rest of the afternoon, they had made small idle chat until Liam arrived. He was a pretty athletically fit man, taller than David and nearly hovering over him. He had a boyish soft charm, yet intensity to him that made Natasha see why David was so enamored.

“I saw William today leaving from my photoshoot,” Liam commented as he finished up his meal.

“Oh?” David commented, disinterestedly.

“Yeah,” Liam continued. “He was standing outside a café with someone I haven’t recognized from any of the parties or his campaign. He seemed pretty angry with whoever he was talking to since he was shouting and flailing his arms.”

That piqued Natasha’s attention.

“Oh, wow,” Natasha commented. “What café was it?”

“The one on 18th. There’s a whole bunch of cafés down that street.”

Natasha hummed, storing that information for later.

The rest of the lunch went smooth, and eventually, David took them inside to his living area.

Natasha looked at the photos around the room, a lot of it being childhood photos of David. She was intrigued to see so many pictures of him and another boy. It wasn’t until she found a high school photo of David and the man next to him a younger version of William.

“Wow, you guys really were family friends,” Natasha commented as she took the photo from the ledge to look at it closer.

David hummed.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “We were actually pretty close back in high school and a little through university.”

“What changed?” Natasha asked because it was clear now that David hated the other man.

David leaned his head on his fist against the chair as Liam sat next to him. “He was always arrogant, don’t get me wrong. But you could tell he cared about things, I guess. I think it all started to change after his dad died midway the first year of university.”

“Oh, it was a car accident, right?” Natasha inquired. That was what was on his file.

David pursed his lip, looking around his home as if to see if anyone else was there.

“That’s what his family wanted officially published. But the truth is, we don’t really know for sure.”

That was interesting, Natasha thought. Her file should’ve had that. Why was his father’s death so tight-lipped?

She would have to do more digging on that because whatever it was, it was clearly a changing point for William.

The subject dropped, and they chatted for about another hour before Natasha decided that it was time to go.

“Oh!” David exclaimed before she was leaving. “Before you go, my parents are hosting their 40th anniversary next weekend. Here’s your invitation. I know you’re going to see William and his fiancé...please give this to them.”

“I swear you rich people have a party every week,” Liam mumbled.

Natasha took the invitations, raising her brow at David. Clearly, the man just didn’t want to see William. He smiled widely at her trying to look innocent, and Natasha could only roll her eyes.

David gave her a parting hug while Liam shook her hand.

This afternoon turned out to be more fulfilling than she thought it was going to be.

She had some useful information to work with.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Maria: Sorry, there’s nothing on his father’s death other than it being a car accident. We’ve even got all the records pulled for the coroner's report and the police records. All points to a car accident. I sent you the photos too.

Natasha sighed frustratedly as she threw her phone next to her on the couch.

Fuck, she thought. How could that be? It was evident that within the inner circle, that wasn’t how the man died.

Why could they pull nothing?

She supposed she wouldn’t find out unless she got into the inner circle.

On the bright side, Natasha managed to find who William was talking to at the café by hacking into the street cameras to find the photos of them.

It was a rather rugged-looking man, definitely not someone who belongs in the affluent circle. She had sent the photos off to see what they could come up with when she got back from lunch that day.

Her phone dinged again, this time with information sent to her.

The man’s name was Emilio Vartez. Nothing out of the usual other than petty crimes, but the fact that William was associating himself with someone like that was already telling.

She needed to see if she could find this Emilio Vartez.

Her phone dinged again, but this time to remind her that she needed to stop by The Cain estates. She had scheduled her meeting with William today, and it would be a chance to drop off David’s invitations as well.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“I’m so sorry, Miss Rovinski. Mr. Cain had a sudden work emergency that just came up. He had to leave right away. I’m not too sure when he’ll be back, but he will be reaching back out to you to reschedule.”

William’s assistant was near bowing at Natasha who had simply raised her hand to show it was a no big deal.

“That’s fine,” Natasha told the assistant to stop her from apologizing. “Actually is the soon-to-be Mrs. Cain here? I need to drop off an invitation.”

The assistant actually looked hesitant to tell Natasha where you were, but it was like she reminded herself that you were now public.

“Oh, yes,” the assistant coughed after a moment. “She’s in her art studio. It’s on the second level, the farthest room in the back. I’m sorry, I would walk you, but I really have to meet up with one of the campaign managers right now.”

Natasha shook her head, “That’s fine, really. I’m sure I will find her. If not, I’ll play Marco-Polo with her.”

The assistant let out a burst of loud laughter that made Natasha internally jump.

The assistant laughed the entire way out, and Natasha stood there blinking until she was gone.

After that, Natasha followed the assistant’s directions. She would’ve taken longer to snoop around, but since she already knew she wouldn’t find anything, she went straight to her destination.

Natasha could see you through the clear window on the door. The studio was large in size, blank canvases and easels lined up on one side. You had your back turned to Natasha in a large men’s dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up in front of a canvas, various paint tubes everywhere.

Natasha entered the room quietly, just observing you. You head was tilted with your thumb in the middle of the canvas, your paintbrush delicately held between your lips.

“What are you drawing?”

You jumped as you turned around, paintbrush falling from your mouth. The brush rolled until it hit Natasha’s foot.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Natasha said as she picked up the brush to hand it to you.

You had your hair in a bun, strands have fallen out. Demurely, you brushed a strand behind your ear as you regarded Natasha.

“I’m here to give you an invitation to the King’s party next week.”

“I suppose David didn’t want to see William?” You asked with a little mirth in your tone that made Natasha quirk her lips.

“You know about David’s...feelings?”

“He doesn’t exactly keep it a secret,” you say, delicately opening the envelope.

“It doesn’t bother you that he feels that way about your husband?”

You merely smiled lopsidedly.

“My fiancé,” you corrected subtly, “is a politician.”

That’s all you said to explain, but Natasha understood the unsaid words. She eyed your canvas again and looked at your prep work.

“Watercolor?”

To her surprise, a light blush dusted your cheeks.

“It’s my favorite,” you quietly admitted.

“Why?” Natasha pried.

You looked at your easel, the faint pencil sketches on your canvas.

“I like that it’s transparent,” you said so faintly that Natasha almost didn’t catch it.

Suddenly, you turned back to face Natasha, eyeing her.

“Do you like the color black?” You asked as you caught onto her black cashmere turtleneck.

“I do,” Natasha admitted.

“Would you like to hear something interesting about it?” You were looking at Natasha so calmly, it was bringing something out in her.

“Yes.”

“People think that the color black only symbolizes unhappiness, grief, and misery, but studies show that people who are powerful wear the color black--lawyers, judges, Steve Jobs.”

Natasha laughed a little at the last one.

“Want to hear more?” You said, smiling as Natasha nodded.

“They say people who like the color black are mysterious and like to keep a certain boundary between them and the outside world.”

Natasha tilted her head. “Do you think that of me?”

“I believe only time will let me know.”

You stood up, walking by Natasha before she reached out and grabbed your wrist softly. The action seemed to surprise you as your arm pressed against the sleeve of her shirt.

“Do you like the color green?” Natasha asked as you had shades of green painted across your arm.

“At the moment, yes,” you replied.

“Would you like to know something interesting about it?” Natasha asked, repeating you. You smiled in response.

“Doctors use the color green to help relieve the fatigue in their eyes from the blood during operations, it helps them focus on examining wounds in better detail.”

You tilted your head at the fact, intrigued.

“Want to hear more?” Natasha asked, smiling herself when you nodded.

“They say kind, loyal, and compassionate people pick green as their favorite color.”

You swallowed at the words, overwhelmed by it, but Natasha could tell you were grateful nonetheless. When she released your wrist, your eyes were drawn to the streak of green smudged on her sweater.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, let me get that fo--”

“It’s alright,” Natasha interrupted you, looking at the splash of color on her sleeve. “I think your green goes well against my black.”

When she looked up, you swallowed deeply at her emerald eyes that just peered into you. Natasha was already walking towards the door before she looked back at you, bidding you goodbye for now with a definitive voice.

“I’ll see you soon.”

When Natasha walked out the front door, she clenched her jaw.

It was only a second, but it made all the difference to Natasha.

You had jumped before she spoke.

You weren’t surprised--or scared.

You expected her to be there.

PART III

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nocvil · 5 years

Photo

* ‐ ․ ↺ 𝙄𝙉𝙏𝙍𝙊𝘿𝙐𝘾𝙄𝙉𝙂 . . . ｓｏｏｂｏｇｕｍ . hitman . caretaker . the heel . a masked hell .

❝ my love , my love , my love , won't you stay a while ? ❞

possible tw’s below: parental death mention, illness mentions, murder for hire mentions, and uh m,,, i think that’s it rlly. just warning ok.

GENERAL INFO

full name: soo bogum ( 수 보검 ). nickname(s): bo, sweetie pie to his mother (: gender & pronouns: cismale, he/him. sexual & romantic orientation: aromantic, demisexual. age & dob: twenty-five, november 8th, 19-- birthplace/hometown: seoul, sk. parents/siblings: only child, deceased father, living mother. pet(s): absolutely not LOL. astrological sign: scorpio. >:-) dominant hand: both! handwriting style: mostly writes in very slanted cursive. i feel like when you see things like royal documents signed or very important letters written back in the day with that vintage cursive ... that would be bogum. language(s) known/spoken: spanish, english, korean. religion: LOL. ok. current living arrangements: a two-bedroom, two bath apartment complex with his older, npc mother. it is pretty spacious given they both have their own room, a kitchen, dining space, their own bathrooms, and a patio. bo has the money if you kno what i mean ... (: occupation/major: hitman.

PHYSICAL

picture reference: uhh... this? this look rlly gives off bogum vibes so (: blood type: type O. nationality: korean. skin tone/color: lighter tanned. birthmarks & scars: heheh wouldn’t u like to kno ??? height: five-foot ten inches. 5′10″. build: pretty average, more on the lean/athletic side though. hair color: red. hair length: uhm ,, look at reference photo? eye color: brown. diet: uhm ... bo has a pretty average diet probably. he would eat just about anything, not very picky. i think he probably has his favorites when it comes to chips and candy but he doesn’t have a special diet. exercise & level of fitness: LOOOL. let me not make a bad joke here ): how’s their posture ( or lack thereof )?: bogum probably has really good posture! i think standing tall with a straight back probably adds to his uh... authoritative look? typical style of dress: ( from his stats page ) dresses a bit old school, vintage?, almost plain. likes wearing tucked in and cuffed shirts, rolled up pants, boots, baseball caps, at least three rings on one hand, gold bracelets. the following outfits aren’t specific to him but they are probably kinda similar. it’s hard to rlly find exact examples ): ( 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 ) body modifications: none, surprisingly. probably pierced ears that he never puts earrings in. that’s really it though. he would prob like a tattoos but wouldn’t do it for the sake of his career ( because tattoos are distinguishing features ).

MANNERISMS

how does your muse walk?: def with a bit of power in his step. very protective when he is with his mother. mostly, he would walk like he calculates every single step he takes. how does your muse talk?: HAHA i just talked about this with myungok’s mun ,, he would talk very plain and probably without a lot of emotion. this would make things that are usually out of pocket probably sound kinda weird. what accent/dialect does your muse talk with?: he is from seoul and according to google, they speak with a gyeonggi dialect there (: how would you describe the tone of their voice? are they loud or quiet?: QUIET... shh... if you speak too loud you won’t hear bogum speaking with such monotoned you could probably fall asleep. bogum asmr when? what does their laugh sound like?: bogum? LAUGHING? i feel like bogum chuckles. so he would have like a short, quiet laugh. how does your muse typically smell?: either like smoke from a cigarette or like his mom’s perfume. what kind of air do they carry?: well jinae’s mun said he would have a dark and heavy presence and honestly that rlly fits the bill. do they have a(ny) catchphrase(s)?: time to die. what are their nervous ticks?: um.. not sure. probably knuckle cracking and finger tapping.

PSYCHOLOGY

what makes your muse happiest?: his mommy! seeing his mom thrive and gain her confidence back, even momentarily, makes him so happy. what upsets them the most?: ugh. listen. i talked abt this with some of y’all but the thought that if he ever got exposed or arrested ... how everyone in his life, including his mother, would just abandon him ... CRIES. was this supposed to be a general question? does your muse have any quirks?: i think his tendency to just be way too lax in certain situations would be his infamous quirk. what are their hobbies? how frequent do/can they do them?: bogum is definitely a simple man. he would totally like puzzles, word searches, watching the news, scrapbooking ( YES, SCRAPBOOKING ), taking walks, shopping with his mom, writing, idk, he doesn’t do anything OD or over the top. shrug. do they have any guilty pleasures?: is your muse an extrovert or an introvert? neither?: 10000% introverted otl. do they have high or low self-esteem? what about confidence?: uhm... bogum probably has an average amount of confidence/self-esteem. he’s a realist, definitely. if he look ugly he look ugly. if he look good he look good. ‘nuff said. are they easily stressed and how do they normally respond to it?: stressed? bogum could be in the midst of a bank robbery and be sitting there like ok, y’all done yet? what is your muses worst fear?: his mother finding out about his job. what is your muses biggest dream?: to either escape his job for good or to be able to heal his mother of all her injuries and illnesses. but of course, neither of those will ever happen! is your muse a morning person or a night dragon?: a night dragon? ok. anyway he is probably both. i can see bogum getting like four hours of sleep and waking up like (: let’s fuckin go! how intelligent is your muse? do they acknowledge it?: OH BOGUM has street smarts but definitely probably not book smarts. at least, not a great amount of book smarts. how can he be a hitman if he’s DUMM?! describe their sense of humor: LMAO. the real question is how can someone as funny as ME play someone as BORING as bogum?

RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES

are they currently in any sexual or romantic relationships?: HELL NO. luuuul. what is their experience with relationships?: to really think about it, bo probably had feelings for people here and there and most likely dated short term in high school but after he moved and began doing that he kind of lost all his effort to pursue romance. how does your muse view the idea of friends with benefits? have they ever had one? would they ever?: another hell naw to that sis. how important is sex to your muse?: not important at all. bogum could care less. what are their biggest turn on and turn offs?: see above pls. does your muse find it easy to make friends?: i say yes, only because most of his friends are through his mother. how important is friendship to them?: veRY IMPORTANT if bogum didn’t have the friends he has today, he probably would be a lot more sad and maybe more than just a hitman ): quantity or quality of friends?: quality! how important is family?: VERY IMPORTANT AGAIN bogum would give his life for his mother and to have his father back. are they close to their family? why or why not ?: YES. obviously asdfasdf everyone probably knows why. although bogum is now the one who runs the house, he still really values his mother because she ultimately has nobody but him in the end if she gets worse. his parents were always really good to him and when his father died, he knew that he and his mother had to stick together through it. he also knew that that he had to step up to provide for his mother because of her injuries and dementia. she is his life, really.

FAVORITES

activity: haha. you really wanna kno?... he likes word searches a lot. animal: idk. probably like. idk. beverage: mmmm some piping hot tea. book: - color: is red cliche to say? designer: - food: flower: water lilies, pansies, lilies, peonies, idk, he would love all kinds of flowers. gem: i googled these. if he had a favorite it would be garnet, smoked topaz, and morion. holiday: christmas! his mother’s favorite too, probably. mode of transportation: walking, usually. movie: - musical artist: oh boy, uhm,, i bet bogum likes indie kpop. like dean, suran, hyukoh, but i dont rlly know a lot to give you more details. quote / saying: - scenery: hm. probably night time in the living room, mom is put to bed already, he’s watching a rerun episode of a crime drama on television and thinking about how it’s so unrealistic. he’s got a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other though he puts it out halfway through because he loses interest. (: scent: i think he’d like the smell of cleaning products, flower scents ( bc it would remind him of his mom ), and metal (: obviously. weather: cloudy or rainy weather. anything that let’s him stay inside for the day. vacation destination: UM. i bet bogum would like to travel out of country to places like europe.

ATTITUDES

greatest dream: to finally have a peaceful life with his mother by his side, healthy or not. he wants to stop being a hitman, really, but it’s kind of like an addiction, plus he’s good at it, and it brings in the bacon. greatest fear: being caught and leaving his mother by herself -- it would be like the ultimate let down since he doesn’t trust anyone with her. most at east when: pls see scenery in section above. least as ease when: out in public by himself. he doesn’t have his mom as his cover. worst possible thing that could happen: PLS SEE GREATEST FEAR. ajdfkjasdfskf biggest achievement: moving to seoul safely with his mom! biggest regret: falling back into the crime life. most embarrassing moment: idk i feel like bogum isn’t embarrassing. he’s too ,, plain. biggest secret: LMAO well ... i think we all know. top priorities: keeping his mom safe, alive, healthy, and her bills paid for. also keeping himself undercover for the most part and making sure neither him or his mother are overwhelmed.

EXTRA TIDBITS

001. bogum is an unhealthy smoker but a social drinker. he never smokes around his mother though.

002. whenever bogum’s mother is around, he is on his own best behavior. he always does his best to be nice and keep up an image of her sweet son although by himself he can be different.

003. so far the only person who knows about his job is sangwoo because he sort of saw him in the act during his first hit. the two joke about it but bogum would take him out in a heartbeat if he spills.

004. i think it’s funny because i always pictured bogum as that person would give the shirt off of his back for you if you were in trouble. but he also wouldn’t hesitate to threaten to make you disappear.

005. his mom doesn’t know how he gets the money to pay for everything but bogum has her believing he “has his ways” and to “just trust him” although she asks about it every now and then.

006. though he stays inside a lot, some of the places you might see bogum outside of his apartment, are grocery stores close to his place, bars around town, museums, little cafes picking up things for his mother, dawon’s flower shop, and very occasionally places where there are a lot of drug activity.

007. here is smth: bogum is a hitman because his father was killed in a hit!

008. despite his mom questioning where he earns his money, his family has always been pretty well off but that was because of his father. so now that his father isn’t alive, it’s kind of ... fishy.

009. lmao probably your very typical scorpio minus the s*xual stuff.

010. my brain stopped working.

AESTHETICS

a card hand full of royals. empty, dark hospital hallways. dirty hands under black leather gloves. an empty, lonely wheelchair. old black and white photographs. an ashtray full of half smoked cigarettes. ripped up diary pages. rolled up fifty dollar bills. two expensive rings on each finger. responding “k” to a paragraph long text message. tri-folded letters written in the upmost calligraphy. roman numeral clocks.

#daegu:task #⸢ 。‧ * ‧﹒、i think it’s time to pack it in . 𝒹𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓁𝑜𝓅𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 . ⸥#I ADDED my own section at the bottom bc why not (:#ok i see u all later

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