#kooki being a petty little shit hours

[kooki914]

Which part of the Undertale/Deltarune fandom do you just hate?

Part of me doesn't want to spread hate in an already divisive community, and a different part of me loves complaining. So, readmore added for the sake of a "warning" aka if you don't want to read my entitled whining just scroll past this.

TL;DR: petty bullshit that's hardly even relevant anymore.

I kinda see the Undertale and Deltarune fandoms as two separate entities at this point. From the original Undertale fandom, what it was all the way back when the game first came out and before Deltarune was a thing, god I hated the moral policing. "You can't do this" or "you have to do that" and the fact that something as small as Drawing A Character In A Dress caused an artist to nearly get chased off of tumblr? Fucking insanity. And the constant character assassinations? What they did to Asgore? What they did to SANS? If I ever get started talking about all my gripes with that old fandom I'd never stop.

For the Deltarune fandom though, at least what it is now, god I hate the hype. I'm not subscribed to the newsletters because I hate the general culture around waiting with baited breath for new breadcrumbs, as that just manifests as Dread for me rather than positivity. Like if I start thinking too hard about Deltarune's potential release dates I start biting people's heads off. (No offense Salt lmao) It sucks because even when I DO get somewhat excited (like I did with the latest newsletter) it's immediately followed by the fandom running everything from the newsletter down into the ground, which... on the one hand is understandable because we're all starved for UT/DR content but on the OTHER hand it really feels like we all need a new hobby, like collectively. I'm happy for you if this brings YOU joy but personally I'm a little tired of seeing the 1000th artist interpretation of yet another scene that's literally best conveyed through text.

Also if I can be EXTRA petty, I dislike a lot of "making my own tenna" or "my own deltaswap" things rattling around in the fandom right now. This is entirely Being A Whiny Little Baby™ syndrome from me because I do the EXACT same shit, I just don't have anything good enough to post don't follow fandom trends when it comes to that sort of thing. You know that meme about two wolves inside a person? One of my wolves is like "cringe is dead and this is a harmless creative activity that gets people together and talking about things they love therefore its Good™" and the other wolf is like snarling and barking like "but it doesn't appeal to MEEEE" Like if I see one more TVhead Tenna I'm actually blacklisting his tag. If I see one more deltaswap that entirely misses the mark on what I like in role-swaps I'm gonna start killing.

So, yeah, I guess I just hate things that feel like they're outside of my control/don't appeal to my extremely hipster contrarian tastes. Aka petty bullshit no one cares about go figure

[zepskies]

Oooh I'm just gonna dive RIGHT in!!

As he impatiently watched a set of doors once more, he pondered if he was still seeing things clearly or if his kooky mind was playing tricks on him. Adjusting to civilian life wasn’t always easy.

Loll I'm loving how you're writing his internal monologue -- matches his quirky personality well. 😂

Ever wondered why there was so much street construction seemingly everywhere and yet America’s roads were still full of potholes? Russell didn’t.

Again, lmao great personality color, and so freakin' relatable!

“Are you fucking insane?” You stormed towards him, shoving his chest. Whoa, broad! Shit, what had he done? Spent more time at the gym? “No, wait, don’t say anything. I already know the answer to that one!” “I’ll second that,” Colter chimed in with a groan and dusted off his jeans.

LOLL. That's so very Colter. 😂

Full disclosure: There might have been a little bit of a plan. Just tiny, really. Not worth mentioning at all.

Riiiiight. Not at all. lol

There had never been a day in your relationship where you had denied that man a thing – till that last day at least.

Ooooh more questions, more questionssss!

“We worked together when we were both stationed in Baghdad. You know how it goes. We met, and a couple of hours later, we were doing it on the kitchen island of some safe house.” Well, alright, that was braggy. There was a lot more going on than that. Best night of his life, really. But Russell considered it classified.

LMAO. Classified, indeed. 😏 Can I hope for one of your legendary flashbacks in the future??

“Oh, not the UFOs again,” Colter sighed with a shake of his head. “It’s UAP, man. U… A… P,” Russell corrected him once again and let the last letter pop from his lips for emphasis.

Get that nomenclature right, Colter. 😂 But omg I love the brotherly teasing -- Russ just HAD to bring up Reenie multiple times, didn't he? It's feeling very much The Misadventures of Russ and Colter, and I'm so here for it. 🤣

“Well, lookey, what do we have here.” Russell’s eyes zoned in on a plate of apple pie, rubbing his palms in delight.

Of COURSE he's an apple pie fan. Love that little Deanism. 🥧

He was hairier than you remembered. That you knew for sure. If you went back even further, he was also a lot broader, too. When you’d met, he was just a kid – as were you. It was only in the last few years of your relationship that he started to gain some serious muscle and really began to fill out his uniform. And all of a sudden, the tall and broad-shouldered soldier became more threatening – and more protective.

Oooh do tell. 😏 But really, it's clear these two have a long history. (Also, not the "midlife crisis beard" 🤣)

But OMG they were married?!!! And why would she send the papers just to get his attention? Good Lord, so many questions...

A part of you thought this day would never come, so maybe Colter being here was indeed a show of good faith and Russell was finally, finally dealing with his shit.

Ahh, makes sense. It tracks that Russ would be hard to pry open, even to someone he loves and has been in such close quarters with him for such a long time. (LOL Denver Airport. 👌🏽)

“I know. But… he kinda was yours too, right?” Russell’s green eyes meeting yours confirmed your statement. “He still talks about you on his good days. God knows you couldn’t throw a football before you met him.” “Hey, that’s not true. I could throw the old pigskin around perfectly fine,” Russell defended.

Just layers and layers of history between these two. It's so sweet to think Russ had a surrogate dad that actually treated him like a normal kid, teaching him how to throw a football, etc.

Fighting the tears in your eyes, you forced a smile to your lips. “He’s good. He’s a sweet boy. Keeps asking questions about his daddy that I don’t know how to answer…” you scoffed humorlessly but decided to forgo the pettiness. It would be so easy to be mad at him, but not even on your darkest days could you do it. “He’s starting school this fall.”

Oh my GODD. They have a son together too?? What the hell happened between them? She left and took their son with her?

He knew if he continued talking about what he’d missed, he wouldn’t make it out of that chicken coop for the next several hours, sobbing uncontrollably in the hay with the hens.

My heart is truly breaking for him, and now I need to know what the hell he did to make her actually leave him, even though they have two kids. 😭😭

True to typical Wayne, this is an intricate cobweb of a story, Russell AND the reader are infinitely complex, and I'm very interested to see where you take this from here. 💜

The Exit Strategy – Part 2

Summary: Russell is ready to hang it all up and retire, open up a brewery, and enjoy the rest of his civilian life. However, there’s one important thing missing before he can take the big plunge. Luckily, he knows just the right person to help him find it.

Pairing: Russell Shaw x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18, language, minor injuries, a bit of angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, a reunion, more secrets and revelations 😉

Word Count: 6.3k

A/N: Guess, the cat's outta the bag! Couldn't reveal too much about the reader beforehand without ruining the surprise now, could I? 🤓 Cozy up in your favorite chair with eggnog. Hope you have some lovely holidays, guys ❤️

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Tag List

Part 2: This Is a Russell Mission

If Russell hated one thing in this world, it was playing The Waiting Game. The thought of being helplessly stuck inside a car with his hands metaphorically tied behind his back nearly wrecked his sanity. Well, whatever was left of it, anyways.

Colter had a point. Russell knew he could be a little paranoid sometimes, but considering everything he’d seen and done in his life, who could honestly blame him? It was only natural to feel a certain level of paranoia in his particular line of work. It kept him on his toes and, therefore, alive.

But maybe it had nothing to do with the job as he had always told himself. It might have been just a family trait he had inherited. And, well, he hated that fact even more than The Waiting Game.

As he impatiently watched a set of doors once more, he pondered if he was still seeing things clearly or if his kooky mind was playing tricks on him. Adjusting to civilian life wasn’t always easy.

What normal people would see as a perfectly nice, faithful woman picking up mail from the post office, Russell saw as a dead-drop pick-up.

There was a construction crew about three hundred yards to his right that seemed to be on constant break by their lack of work ethic. They also took turns to watch the supermarket closely. Ever wondered why there was so much street construction seemingly everywhere and yet America’s roads were still full of potholes? Russell didn’t.

And then, there was the cashier who handed you a flyer of some sort, which you accepted with a polite smile and stuffed in your purse. Live drop, Russell noted as he watched you walk out of the store hand in hand with your supposed husband.

It was all so abundantly clear to him, he almost couldn’t believe no one else could see it. It certainly worried him that Colter couldn’t.

What if…

What if he was in fact seeing things? Things that weren’t actually there. Ghosts of his past. No drops, live or dead. No secret surveillance in disguises. No fake husband – just a very real one.

Was that even legal? He figured it was under your new identity.

Russell shook the uncomfortable thought out of his mind and concentrated back on you. You stopped short by a row of shopping carts, exchanged a few words with your “husband”, and headed back inside. His little brother, of course, was hot on your tail, following you back in too.

That was when several alarm bells went off in Russell’s body. His head felt like the Liberty Bell on the Fourth of July. Experience told him: If it smelled like an ambush, it usually was.

Jumping into gear, Russell’s gaze snapped to your husband, who not only unloaded the groceries into the trunk of the car but also loaded a pistol and hid it underneath his sweater vest before heading toward the supermarket again.

Russell sprung into action rather quickly then, snatching his own semi-automatic from the glove compartment. Soon enough, he heard two familiar voices flowing out from a back alley behind the main building. There was no doubt in his mind that it was you and Colter.

As he rounded the corner, he had to stifle a laugh once he saw his little brother down on the ground, straddled by your legs. Russell had found himself in similar positions with you, but they had been mostly out of pleasure.

“If it helps, my name is Colter. Colter Sh–”

“Shaw.”

Russell watched as your hold on his brother swayed and shock claimed your expression.

“Hiya, sweetheart,” he greeted your eyes with a cheeky smile as warmth spread through his heart.

Fuck, he had missed you.

“Russell?!”

Your jaw had fully dislodged itself as you slowly got back onto your feet and let go of your prisoner. But the shock of seeing your ex here of all places didn’t last long till it made way for your anger.

“Are you fucking insane?” You stormed towards him, shoving his chest. Whoa, broad! Shit, what had he done? Spent more time at the gym? “No, wait, don’t say anything. I already know the answer to that one!”

“I’ll second that,” Colter chimed in with a groan and dusted off his jeans. He stretched his sore muscles briefly before glaring at his older brother, who only offered him an apologetic smile and a half-assed shrug of one shoulder.

“Did you tell him to follow me?” you asked and pointed an accusatory finger at his younger brother while still glaring daggers at Russell. The similarity between them suddenly struck you, and you cursed yourself for not putting the puzzle pieces together sooner. “What was the plan here, huh?”

“Oh, trust me, he had no plan,” Colter muttered sourly, still recovering from your attack.

Russell clicked his tongue and sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “Look, he’s right. There wasn’t a plan. I just-… I had to see you. But once I did, well… here we are.”

Full disclosure: There might have been a little bit of a plan. Just tiny, really. Not worth mentioning at all.

You scoffed and shook your head. “You, of all people, should know better. You could’ve blown our cover. Months of work down the drain…”

“I think your cover’s still good,” Russell assured you with that same old lazy grin of his that was scarily charming and glanced at your partner. “Might wanna call off the cavalry, though.”

You shared a look with Tom, your partner during this mission.

“I’ll signal them. Clean up here,” he said, unamused, and disappeared back to the parking lot.

“Road crew in front of the store?” was all Russell asked. You confirmed it with a simple nod. Internally, he celebrated his little win. His instincts were still intact.

You exhaled a deep breath and threw your hands up. You had been so incredibly relaxed before that menace of a man waltzed back into your life – with a goddamn wrecking ball, no less. Now, the tension was crawling back into your shoulders.

“Russ, what the hell?”

Your question wasn’t filled with anger, however. You were just exhausted by today’s surprising turn of events. The life of a spy…

And probably the life with Russell, too.

“I know. I know, okay?” Russell held up two placating hands. Large hands. Warm. “Can we just talk? Somewhere… I don’t know.”

With some reservations, you still nodded. “There’s a church picnic at First Presbyterian tomorrow. It starts at one. We can talk there.”

There had never been a day in your relationship where you had denied that man a thing – till that last day at least.

“Church picnic?” Russell cocked a brow but was only met with your glare.

“Don’t mock. Be there,” you told him firmly and walked back inside the building. You still had to buy that damn milk. Covers were complicated to maintain – much like relationships.

Once you were out of sight, Russell let out a long sigh of relief, followed by a laugh of happiness. Step One was done. Only when the high of his meeting with you subsided, did he notice his brother’s exasperation.

Colter threw his hands in the air and stared at his sibling with incredulous eyes. “What the hell, Russell? What was that, man?”

“Right, yeah.” Russell bobbed his head calmly, smacking his lips. He knew he owed Colter an explanation at this stage of the mission.

“So, I’m guessing she’s not an old Army buddy of yours,” the younger Shaw started.

“No, not quite. She’s in the CIA,” Russell explained at last. He couldn’t help the grin. He was sure Colter would laugh about it eventually, too. Well, here was to hoping he would. “We worked together when we were both stationed in Baghdad. You know how it goes. We met, and a couple of hours later, we were doing it on the kitchen island of some safe house.”

Well, alright, that was braggy. There was a lot more going on than that. Best night of his life, really. But Russell considered it classified.

“Romantic,” Colter scoffed with sarcasm lacing his voice. Honestly, a part of him was happy for Russell. Another part, though, was incredibly furious for obvious reasons. “But I’m sorry – you had me stalk a CIA operative? During, what I assume is, some elaborate undercover mission?”

“It’s actually not that elaborate,” Russell quipped with amusement. “You shoulda seen half the things I’ve seen her do, so…”

“Oh, hilarious!” Colter shook his head at his childish brother. “Are you nuts?!”

“I think we’ve already established that,” Russell chuckled.

“You know, if Reenie finds out about this, she’s gonna kill me,” Colter said, and Russell swore his brother seemed close to breaking into a sweat. “Oh, you think this is still funny, huh? Guess who she’s gonna kill right after? You.”

Russell rolled his eyes at the unnecessary theatrics. “She’s not gonna find out unless you tell her, brother.”

With pursed lips, Colter nodded in defeat. “Can’t say I like you a lot right now, Russell.”

His older brother only snorted a laugh in response. “Oh, c’mon!”

“You probably would find it less funny if you had been beaten up by a 5’4” woman,” Colter continued and pressed a hand to his ribcage, wincing. “Yeah, pretty sure she cracked a rib or two…”

“Don’t be a baby. Soldier up! You’re fine.” Russell patted his back roughly and inspected the swelling nose for good measure, causing Colter to groan in pain once more. “And by the way, pretty sure she’s only 5’3”.”

“What?! No! She’s at least… 5’4”, okay? Probably even 5’5”,” Colter argued, following Russell back to the truck.

Russell’s lips rose to a teasing smirk. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself whatever gets you to sleep at night, little brother.”

“I will, thank you,” Colter deadpanned and unlocked the car. “So, you’re gonna go to this church picnic thing tomorrow?”

“Oh, no, not just me. We are going to this church picnic thing tomorrow,” Russell said with a cheeky grin and slid into the passenger seat.

“Well, you know, technically, I’ve already… found her. This is usually where my job ends,” Colter said with a tight smile and popped the key into the ignition.

“Yeah, well, not this time,” Russell replied, chuckling. “This ain’t a Colter mission. This is a Russell mission.”

“Oh, I got that, yeah. Thank you,” Colter said with a laugh that made his bruised ribs ache. “You know, you could’ve at least told me she was in the CIA.”

“Yeah, probably. But this was more fun,” Russell grinned.

“Did you know this whole time this was a clandestine operation?”

Russell sheepishly twitched his shoulders. “Well, not when we first got to town, but once I saw her in that outfit, I had a pretty strong inkling. I’m tellin’ ya, even if she had changed her entire life and personality, there’s no way she would have accepted Jesus Christ as her Lord and savior. I mean, maybe if she suffered a traumatic brain injury…” Russell mused and then grinned. “Or if she got abducted by aliens!”

“Oh, not the UFOs again,” Colter sighed with a shake of his head.

“It’s UAP, man. U… A… P,” Russell corrected him once again and let the last letter pop from his lips for emphasis.

“Uh-huh… Did you even need me for this?” Colter leaned back against his seat and quirked an eyebrow.

“Hell yeah!” Russell assured eagerly before changing course. He dialed his enthusiasm back a little. “Well, honestly, I just needed your op analyst. I could’ve used one of my guys, but then that would’ve flagged it with someone upstairs, so… But c’mon! This was fun, right?”

“I don’t know, Russell. I usually prefer my fun to look a little different,” Colter deadpanned.

“With Reenie?” Russell wagged his eyebrows. The huge smirk on his face spoke volumes.

“Would you stop?!”

“‘Sides, this is nice, isn’t it? Us… hanging out?” Russell’s sly grin then morphed into a much softer and genuine smile.

“I guess, yeah,” Colter reluctantly agreed and shrugged his shoulders. But the tiny smile on his face wasn’t missed by Russell.

“Alright, let’s get some fuel,” Russell announced and playfully slapped his brother’s chest. “I’m starving. We also need to find a place where we can park that Airstream of yours. Maybe get a nice fire going, drink a few…”

“What is this? A sleepover? Did you just invite yourself?” Colter really wasn’t used to family members dropping in like this, but he couldn’t deny that it felt sort of nice, too.

“Yeah, I am. I mean, you didn’t offer. Would’ve been the polite thing, you know, considering I saved your ass last time,” Russell retorted puckishly.

Colter exhaled a humorous breath, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Alright, okay… Consider yourself invited.”

“See? Wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

Russell’s nerves leaped through the roof as he set foot onto the church grounds. A part of him expected his boot soles to leave burn marks in their wake on the perfectly green and trimmed lawn, considering his extensive list of sins.

Families, children, couples, and the elderly had all gathered in front of the church. There were picnic tables, blankets, even balloons and a banner. His green eyes, however, landed on the giant buffet, his mouth already beginning to water.

That’s also where he spotted you, handing out cupcakes and slices of pie with a pious smile on your face. Your hair was stuck behind your ears, a headband keeping it tightly in place. Your dress looked the same, only the flower pattern varied, with a tight cardigan around your shoulders that hid any naked skin.

Deceptively innocent, Russell thought, causing his mouth to water for a different reason.

“You okay? You nervous?” Colter checked with a curiously raised brow.

“Nervous? Me? No.” Russell gave a quick shake of his head, but his eyes were transfixed on you. “Gotta admit. That outfit’s doing something to me, though.”

Colter patted his shoulder blade. “Yeah, might wanna keep it in your pants, Russ. Pretty sure you get kicked out for impure thoughts.”

Russell snorted a laugh. “Yeah, probably.”

The Shaw brothers then made their way over to your stand. Russell’s heart thumped louder with every new step he took towards you. And once he was so close he could smell your irresistible perfume, his smile only widened.

You, on the other hand, played your role flawlessly and pretended you didn’t know either brother in front of you. Your brows knit in question, but your devout smile remained the same.

“Gentlemen, how can I help you? I don’t think I’ve seen you here before,” you said and subtly gestured your head to the pastor next to you.

Russell’s brow raised in understanding. He cleared his throat. “Oh, me and my brother just moved here. Looking for a new church. Heard this is the place,” he stated loud enough for the pastor to hear. “You know, we are very devout Christians. I mean, especially my brother here. If he doesn’t pray at least ten times a day, he gets real cranky.”

Colter threw him a look but decided to play along. “Oh, yeah, I just-… I hate that. Can’t pray enough, right?”

“Amen,” you said with all the sincerity you could muster. On the inside, however, you were bursting with laughter. Leave it to Russell to make you smile brighter than the sun.

“Well, you’ve certainly come to the right place,” the pastor chimed in with a cheerful smile that spelled kumbaya all the way through as he shook the brothers’ hands. “I’m Pastor Jeff. Welcome to our little congregation, folks.”

“God can never have enough sheep, am I right?” Russell quipped and wondered how long you’d already been undercover, playing your dutiful role as a Christian housewife. Five sentences in, and he already was at his limit.

“That’s right!” The pastor grinned broadly. “Please help yourselves to our delicious buffet.”

“Well, lookey, what do we have here.” Russell’s eyes zoned in on a plate of apple pie, rubbing his palms in delight.

“Oh, you have to try the pie,” the pastor eagerly suggested and put an arm around your shoulders. “Our Nora here is an excellent baker. Her desserts are a real trend in our community. It is downright sinful. But shhhh, don’t tell the big man upstairs.”

“Secret’s safe with me, pastor,” Russell grinned slyly before meeting your eyes for the briefest second. “Say, do you do marriage counseling too?”

The glare you shot him had enough power to kill him from afar. You might as well have ordered a missile strike on him.

“Oh, my, yes, of course!” the pastor eagerly replied, causing your frown to deepen. “Are you married? Having a little trouble with the missus?”

“You could say that,” Russell earnestly played along and propped up his hands on his hips. “Everything was going fine, you know? And then one morning, just whoosh, gone. No explanation, no letter, no anonymous call from a pay phone…”

“Wow…” The pastor was stunned and enthralled by Russell’s colorful storytelling at the same time. You weren’t, however.

“Well, I’m so sorry to hear that,” you feigned your sympathies with tight lips and a fierce glare at your former lover. “But you know what they say, the Lord giveth and he taketh away…”

“You know, Nora here is right. Our Lord does work in mysterious ways,” the pastor chimed in agreement.

“Amen, Pastor Jeff,” you said, smiling contentiously. “Do you have any idea why your wife left?”

“Oh, I’m afraid she’s as mysterious as the Lord,” Russell replied.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you forced a tight smile. “I don’t mean to overstep, but it sounds like someone was having a little trouble with commitment.”

“It does,” Pastor Jeff agreed. “Why do you think that is?”

Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Russell’s head bobbed, his tongue poking the insides of his cheeks. He was definitely feeling a spotlight on him. Even Colter seemed to curiously lean in. Then, the oldest Shaw clicked his tongue. “Rough childhood.”

Amused, Colter scoffed under his breath behind him. “You could say that.”

“Oh no.” The pastor sent the brothers a pitying look and turned his attention to the younger Shaw. “And what do you do?”

“Oh, uh… Well, before I moved in with my brother here, I lived in a trailer and traveled all over the country.”

“Sounds… lonely,” Pastor Jeff stated worriedly.

“Yeah, this one is a big lone wolf. He has commitment issues too,” Russell replied, earning him a scolding look from his brother.

“Uh, I don’t think we need to overshare, Russ.” Colter gave an awkward smile, turning to you and Pastor Jeff. “He’s kidding. I don’t have commitment issues.”

“It’s a sin to lie, Colter,” Russ noted. His tone was serious, but the twinkle in his green eyes was impish.

“What happened to your face there?” The pastor cocked his head and inspected the younger Shaw’s injuries.

Oof, he looked rough. The skin under his eyes and bridge of his nose were swollen and bruised, ranging in color from blue, purple to black. A thin burgundy line also graced his throat. You had done quite a number on him.

You should kick Russell’s ass for setting you both up like this. Who would do this to their little brother?

“Uh, you know, moving boxes…” Colter stammered with a shift of his weight from one foot to the other, pursing his lips.

Russell was a better liar than him, you noted.

“Yup, walked straight into one of those wood planks,” Russell added, oozing just the right amount of charm and humor to wrap the pastor around his finger. “Tiny thing, honestly, but still got him good.”

Oh, he was so proud of that too, you could tell. He smirked right at you. Well, they were both terrible liars.

“Not that tiny. Big, big plank,” Colter corrected. Apparently, you had bruised his ego, too. “Lucky to be alive, really.”

Yeah, he really was.

“Well, speaking of taking things away, I still have to get the eggs from the chickens,” you said, segueing the conversation to an exit strategy. “Excuse me.”

“Oh, you have chickens here?” Russell enthusiastically slapped Colter’s arm. “Did you hear that? They have chickens.”

“Yeah, uh, very exciting,” Colter said, subtly clearing his throat.

“We’ve always wanted chickens,” Russell clarified for the pastor, joining you by your side as you rounded the table. It wasn’t true, though. The brothers actually had a chicken coop at the cabin when they were kids and hated it. The hens were noisy, the rooster was the worst, and it was always a mess to clean up. “I love those clucking little buggers. And now that we have a big backyard… Mind if I come along and check out your setup?”

“Not at all,” you replied with a friendly smile.

“Great. Be right back,” Russell told his brother, hurrying after you before he eloquently made a U-turn back to the stand and grabbed a plate of pie.

“Take your time,” Colter said through a pressed smile, although he wondered how long he’d be stuck here for with the pastor and your fake husband.

“Clear,” you said and held the creaking wooden door of the coop open for Russell to follow inside. As soon as it fell shut behind you two, you crossed your arms. “Okay, talk.”

“What? Here? Now?” With squinted eyes and a cocked brow, Russell looked around the small and dark space full of farm fowl, hay, and feathers.

You threw your arms up in exasperation. “You said you wanted to talk, so talk. What’s wrong with this place?”

“Nothing,” Russell said timidly and swallowed. He scratched the back of his neck. “You know, I just imagined this conversation a thousand times in my head, and it never happened in a chicken coop on church grounds.”

“Adorable,” you commented unamused, your brow knitting even more.

“All I’m sayin’ is, this just takes some time gettin’ used to…”

“Get used to it faster.”

Russell sighed. Then you did.

You softened your stance, crossed arms falling freely to your sides. “I’ve missed you,” you said earnestly and gifted him a small smile, taking in his changed appearance for the first time in detail.

He was hairier than you remembered. That you knew for sure. If you went back even further, he was also a lot broader, too. When you’d met, he was just a kid – as were you. It was only in the last few years of your relationship that he started to gain some serious muscle and really began to fill out his uniform. And all of a sudden, the tall and broad-shouldered soldier became more threatening – and more protective.

Now, clean-shaven, young, somewhat naive, and rule-following was replaced by a rebellious, midlife-crisis beard and the matching hair.

Ah, the t-shirt… Mötley Crüe. He found that thing eleven years ago at a thrift store in Arizona. It had a (bullet) hole on the left side of his lower back that you had patched – thrice. Once even with teething floss in a tent.

“How have you been?”

Russell’s head bobbed. He shrugged. “So-so.” Then he smiled. Soft and warm. The first few rays of sunshine on frozen winter skin. “I’ve missed you, too.” Then, the smile disappeared from his lips, replaced by contempt. “Got your divorce papers. Not signing them, by the way.”

“Good.” You smiled weakly. “I didn’t want you to sign them. I just sent them to get your attention.”

The relief that surged through Russell’s body was ineffable. For months, he thought he’d lost you – that you’d finally given up on him for good.

“How’s the new job working out?”

Russell’s lips drew a smirk, flirtatious charm glimmering in his forest green eyes. “What, you keeping tabs on me, sweetheart?”

You matched his expression. “Who do you think recommended you, huh?”

Russell stumped for a beat. His lips pursed, eyebrows drawing into a wondering v. “Well, they said someone did. Just didn’t think it was you.”

All this time, he’d believed you had crossed him out of your mind with a red pen as soon as you’d walked out the door that very morning.

“I told you. I’ll always look out for you,” you replied simply, a caring smile dancing on your lips. “So? Did it help? Are you any closer?”

“Yeah, guess so…” He paused for a moment, his gaze focused on the tips of his boots as he thought. “Not sure it was worth it, though. Actually, I’m fucking sure it wasn’t.”

You exhaled a long breath. You knew this day would come eventually. You knew he’d come back for you. Granted, you had expected him on your goddamn doorstep years ago, but he never showed. Sending divorce papers was a last resort in hopes he’d wake up then. That had been nine months ago.

“Why are you here, Russ?”

“Things have changed.”

Ah. That made things perfectly clear.

Lifting a brow, you crossed your arms again. “Is that why you brought your little brother along? As a show of good faith?”

“Kinda.”

“Poor Colter… How’s his nose?”

Russell wiped your sincere concerns away with a shrug. “He’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it. Just a scratch.”

Just a scratch…

“It’s weird… seeing you two together,” you said. For more than fifteen years, you had wondered. A part of you thought this day would never come, so maybe Colter being here was indeed a show of good faith and Russell was finally, finally dealing with his shit.

That man could easily fill the Denver airport with his baggage.

“You look good,” you noted. You were trained to control your heartbeat, but he had always made your job harder. “Different.”

His fingers brushed his beard as if to emphasize the newness. “Yeah? You like it?”

“Well, uhm, I don’t hate it,” you said rather coyly. Did you want to give him a win? No. But if he stepped any closer, you would falter. Your cheeks blushed as the tip of your shoe drew circles in the sandy ground. Why did your ears suddenly feel so hot?

Russell smiled as heat crept to his cheeks as well. “Your new look is somethin’, too.”

“God, shut up.” You rolled your eyes at him but couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face.

“Oh, I don’t think you’re allowed to take the Lord’s name in vain here,” Russell teased. “Don’t let good Pastor Jeff hear ya.”

You laughed, scoffing. “I hate that man.”

“Pastor Jeff? I can tell,” Russell chuckled in amusement and finally stuffed his face with the first bite of pie, chewing a mouthful as he spoke. “But c’mon, he ain’t half bad.”

“Really? You don’t wanna shoot yourself after spending five minutes with him? ‘Cause I do. And it’s been months for me,” you said. “You don’t know what that man does in his office.”

“You bugged his office?”

“And the confession booth. Two words: game changer,” you said, wide-eyed. Russell whistled lowly. You narrowed your eyes at the half-eaten plate in his hands and the pie crumbs in his beard. You raised a scolding brow. “Did you really have to bring the pie?”

“Do you even know me at all? Of course I did.” Russell then shoved the last bite into his mouth to prove his petulant point. “Did you actually bake this?”

In expectant offense, you stepped back a little, crossing your arms again. “Why?”

“‘Cause it’s good.”

“Do you even know me at all? What d’you think?”

“Thought so.” Russell gave a shrug of his shoulders. “The first bite of this didn’t give me immediate food poisoning.”

“Fuck you. I’m a great cook,” you huffed but couldn’t help the grin on your face. You had missed this – the bickering, the bantering, the fun. And Russell, the sly asshole, knew that, judging by his own smirk.

“There’s a lot of reasons why I love you, but your cooking skills ain’t one of ‘em, sweetheart,” he quipped.

“I’ll use you as shooting practice, Shaw,” you threatened playfully. Russell laughed, but it sounded more secretive than a laugh about a joke. “What?”

Russell’s eyes found yours. “Nothing. This is nice, right? We slid right back into it. Like the last three years never happened.”

“Russ…” You sighed, your heart hurting. For you, they happened.

“Just saying it was easy. That’s all,” he said with placating hands. “How’s the family? How’s your dad?”

That caused you to suck in a breath. You had wondered when he would finally dare to ask. You knew this was the real reason why he was here. “Dave finally married Jill last spring. It was a nice wedding. Florence, Italy. Got to wear a sun hat.”

“That’s good.” Russell smiled softly, although it stung that he wasn’t invited. He had always imagined he would be, once your brother popped the question to his longtime girlfriend. After all, Russell was the one who introduced the couple in the first place.

“They wanted to do it sooner, but because of the pandemic…”

“They shoulda done it ten years ago. I kept telling him to lock it down,” Russell quipped, the irony not entirely lost on him. He knew even if something was locked down, didn’t necessarily mean it would stay forever.

“You did,” you remembered with a fond smile. “They wanted you there,” you added, noticing his saddened expression. “It’s just-…”

“No, I know. Don’t worry about it,” Russell brushed it off with all the coolness he could muster at that moment.

“Russ…”

“I said it’s fine,” he repeated and forced another smile. “So, how’s the old man?”

Silently, you bit your lip and sent him a look that spoke volumes.

“Uh-oh. That bad, huh?”

“It’s the reason why I moved back here. To be closer… As close as I can be with this job. Figured it was best for everyone,” you explained. “In the beginning, he had a lot of good days, you know? Now they just all seem… bad.”

“Yeah… I’m sorry,” Russell replied, dumping his empty plate by the chickens. He stepped closer.

Uh-oh. Now, you were in trouble.

“I’m sorry, too.”

Russell’s brow jumped up. “What are you sorry for? It’s your dad.”

“I know. But… he kinda was yours too, right?” Russell’s green eyes meeting yours confirmed your statement. “He still talks about you on his good days. God knows you couldn’t throw a football before you met him.”

“Hey, that’s not true. I could throw the old pigskin around perfectly fine,” Russell defended.

You snorted. “You could not,” you argued with a teasing smile. “You knew how to kill sweet little forest critters and turn your pee into drinking water. But you did not know how to throw a damn ball.”

“You’re never letting the pee thing go, are you?”

You shrugged. “It was a very memorable trip.”

Russell laughed at that. Then the melancholic sadness returned to his face. “How’s-, uhm, how’s Lewis?”

He’d made it through the list of your relatives, finishing with the most important one. And it stung so unbearably much it broke your heart for him. But in the end, you knew he’d done it to himself.

Fighting the tears in your eyes, you forced a smile to your lips. “He’s good. He’s a sweet boy. Keeps asking questions about his daddy that I don’t know how to answer…” you scoffed humorlessly but decided to forgo the pettiness. It would be so easy to be mad at him, but not even on your darkest days could you do it. “He’s starting school this fall.”

“School, huh?” Russell huffed a devastating chuckle, the tears brimming in his eyes as the lump in his throat only grew. “Shit…”

It was getting to him, you could see, and he hadn’t expected that it would. Knowing Russell, he probably figured he could push through the pain and be fine. But he had never really been fine since the day you met him – and he wasn’t this time either as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to blink the tears away, and turned his back to you with a hand clasped over his mouth.

“Should I stop?”

It felt like you were torturing him with a cruel new method of some PsyOp. Even if you had cursed this man for the past three years, your heart refused to see him hurt.

But Russell shook his head, finding your eyes again. He offered you a weak smile. “No, uh, don’t. Just tell me something about him, okay? I’m fine. Please.”

Sighing, you nodded in acceptance. “When my dad was better, he and Dave would take him fishing a lot. He loved it. He’s in his ‘backyard adventures’ phase,” you said, giggling softly. “He’s catching frogs and releasing them in the house. Never imagined I’d wake up with an amphibian on my head. It’s been a delightful experience.”

Russell laughed, but it was feeble at best. “I can imagine…”

And I can’t imagine I missed it all, he thought self-punishingly. But the hard part still hadn’t come yet.

“And, uhm…” Russell wrung for words, taking a deep breath. “How’s the baby? Is it–”

“She,” you stated, watching him swallow upon your correction. “Her name’s Amelia. She turned two in April.”

“Huh, girl…” His heart beat faster, grew bigger, and painfully yearned. His feet trembled to get home, wherever that was, and see them, but he knew he couldn’t. It wasn’t so easy, after all. “Guess I was right…” he said with a sad smile.

You had been sure you’d have another boy. However, Russell had bet you ten meatball subs – your craving at the time – that it wasn’t.

“What happened to Ann? Thought that’s the name we picked,” Russell teased in hopes of lightening the mood.

“Yeah, well, if you wanted a say, maybe you should’ve been there…” you retorted.

Russell should’ve known winning you over wouldn’t be as simple as spelling the ABC.

“You’re the one who left,” Russell muttered finger-pointing-ly under his breath.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know why,” you bit glaringly.

Russell swallowed lightly, nodding. “You’re right. I do. I’m sorry.” Pausing, his eyes glanced around the coop before he gestured with a hand at your outfit, looking you up and down. “So, speaking of the kids, what’s going on here? Thought you were done with the deep-covers,” he changed the subject with a clear of his throat.

He knew if he continued talking about what he’d missed, he wouldn’t make it out of that chicken coop for the next several hours, sobbing uncontrollably in the hay with the hens.

“I was. Had a desk job. Kinda…” A desk job in the CIA still never really was a desk job. “I was station chief in Paris.”

“Paris, huh? Fancy,” Russell said, but the joke didn’t reach the crinkles around his eyes.

“It’s the job I took after I left. We only moved back to the States in the beginning of the year,” you explained. “The kids loved it there, though. Lewis still gets a craving for crêpes every once in a while.”

Russell chuckled, even though every story added another bruise to his heart.

“Anyways, I got a job at Langley. Desk. Bought a house not too far from here, actually. It’s nice. Got a big backyard. Even bigger oak tree,” you told him with a smile. “Lewis wants me to build him a treehouse, but I’m not sure I can swing it.”

“I could help,” Russell offered, trying to keep his eagerness at bay when truly all he wanted was to race there and build the damn thing now. “I mean, if I can come by sometime…”

Your heart sank. “You can always come home. You always could, Russ.”

Home.

That four-letter word filled him with so much warmth and longing it brought back the tears in his eyes.

“So, uhm, why are you here and not there then?” This time, he switched the topic because he would’ve kissed you if he hadn’t. “You running a sting on the pastor or…?”

“One of his sheep.”

“Ah.” Russell nodded. “Need any help?”

“From you and Colter?”

“Yeah.”

“No, thank you.”

“Oh, c’mon, just lemme help. The faster you get this done and over with, the sooner you can stop clutching your fake pearls and get home to the kids,” Russell reasoned.

You sighed, knowing he was partially right. You did hate your disguise as much as you hated the annoyingly nosy pastor. Moreover, you missed your children a fucking lot. It had already been three months. Fall was coming soon, and you had promised your son you’d be home by his first day of school.

“C’mon, how did they lure you back in, huh? Who’s the naughty little sheep you’re working?”

“Can’t talk about this here,” you told him, automatically lowering your voice. It was hard to remember who you were right now, when what you were used to be was standing right in front of you.

Russell quirked a brow. “Did you bug the coop, too?”

“No, the pastor’s scared of the chickens, which is why I didn’t bother. But you never know if someone else isn’t listening. We’ve already shared too much. We shouldn’t do this here,” you insisted, and Russell nodded in agreement. He knew the dangers as well as you did.

“Then where?”

You exhaled a deep breath and thought for a moment. You wanted to see him again. You knew he didn’t just come find you to catch up and then leave again.

“Come by the house tonight. Make it look natural. I’ll invite you guys to dinner as a sort of friendly welcome wagon to the neighborhood. The pastor is gonna buy it in a heartbeat. Just give me a good reason to invite you over.”

Russell nodded in understanding. “Alright.”

Part 3: This Is a Heart-To-Heart – SOON 💚

Welp, seems like Russell omitted having a wife and two kids... 🙈😂

I'll post the next part in the beginning of the new year or straight after Polaris has finished. We'll see ☺️

Enjoy the rest of your holidays, loves! Can't wait to read your comments on this one 😉🤍

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[seokiie]

𝚆𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 (𝙼)

+ 𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘛𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘑𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘬𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘺, 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘺, 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘺. 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘺 (𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯) 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

+𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 2.2𝘬+

+ 𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘑𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘬𝘰𝘰𝘬/𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

+ 𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘦𝘹𝘩𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘮, 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘫𝘰𝘣, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘴' 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵

It wasn't every day that you were invited out to a dinner party.

It wasn't every day that Jungkook himself invited you out to a dinner party.

As soon as you'd gotten the call, you searched through your closet for your nicest dress. It just so happened that your nicest dress was also your skimpiest. Welp, you had plenty of cardigans you could wear.

The reason Jungkook inviting you out to a dinner party was such a rare deal was simply because he liked keeping his work life and personal life separate. During the duration of your year-long relationship, you'd only ever met his six other bandmates three times. Three times. Of course, you knew it was in his best interest to keep you as far away from his busy idol life as possible. You only really met up in private to avoid prying cameras and invasive fans. He was also a bit possessive and uncharacteristically jealous for someone as hot as himself. He's always said things like, 'you're mine, don't even think about looking at other men'. You never had any complaints, though - a possessive Jungkook never failed to set your skin on fire.

"Wah, this is what you're wearing? You're really trying to make dinner difficult for me, huh." Jungkook looks up at you as you slide into the booth next to him, a wide smirk on his face. You'd arrived at the fancy restaurant via private car. It was safer if no one saw you arrive. When you're seated at the table with the seven men, you look around and realize that the whole establishment is empty, not counting the few bodyguards and waiters littered around.

"I couldn't find anything else under the lines of 'fancy but not too fancy, but still fancy enough for a fancy restaurant'." You laugh quietly and scoot closer to him till your thighs were just barely touching. You haven't seen him in almost three weeks. He had a busy schedule along with some overseas promos but you're just glad he's finally back.

"Regardless you look fucking delicious- I mean, that isn't quite appropriate for this setting..." You watch as his eyes roam over your frame hungrily. A familiar warmth curls through your body when a big hand covers your bare thigh. "You look fucking delightful."

"Ah, look at our Jungkookie! He's flirting, cute." Jimin giggles from where he's sat on the other side of Jungkook. You and a few of the other members laugh. Jungkook can't help laughing as well.

The dinner carries on nicely. You'd been a bit nervous at first because you didn't know the other members too well, but it seems you were nervous for no reason. Hoseok in particular managed to break you out of your shell the most with his antics and smiley demeanor. Somehow just sitting across from him made you excited.

A few minutes after placing orders, some appetizers are brought out while dinner is being made. While you were drifting between quiet and sociable, you weren't too fond of the fact that Jungkook had only said two sentences to you over the past thirty minutes - and that was when you arrived. Maybe you were just being overly clingy. You weren't gonna lie, you were pretty touch starved after going Jungkook-free for a couple of weeks.

You place a hand on his leg, just above his knee under the table. You were rightfully seeking attention in your opinion.

He doesn't seem to notice the hand on his leg and continues his conversation with Seokjin who was sitting across the table. Fine. You'd turn it up a notch.

"Y/n, it's been so long since we saw you. It's been three months I think." You look up to meet eyes with whoever was talking to you. It was Hoseok.

"Oh, yeah! I know how busy you guys are. You all work so hard."

"Ah, we try. By the way, if you're comfortable, you can talk casually. We've known each other long enough... even if we don't talk often." Hoseok gives a warm smile and you're dully aware of Jungkooks thigh tensing under your hand slightly. When you look over, he seems to still be conversing with Jin. You smirk.

"If it's alright with you. I heard working overseas was stressful, I was so worried when Jungkook called me..." You continue talking to Hoseok for a bit.

Jungkook was doing a good job ignoring the conversation going on to his right, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little frustrated. He knows he shouldn't get mad at his friend talking casually to his girlfriend but come on. Everyone knew he had a little green monster sitting on his shoulder, especially you.

It isn't until he feels your almost searing hand crawl up his thigh that he fully grasps the situation. You knew he had a little green monster sitting on his shoulder. You knew this and you were talking to his hyung casually while touching him deliberately under the table. Did you want his attention that bad?

Sometimes Jungkook seriously wondered how his relationship with you worked out because you were so petty and holy shit, he was petty, too. So, so petty. If this was a game, he was not going to back down. He'd make sure you wouldn't get an ounce of his attention tonight.

That proves easier said than done because not only five minutes later, your hand is rubbing teasingly slow up and down his thigh, dangerously close to where his cock is nestled safely inside his dress pants.

Jungkook barely notices the way his legs open a little wider, inadvertently asking for more of your touch. Whatever Seokjin was talking about, Jungkook can't remember. Half his brain was focusing on trying not to get hard and the other half was trying to keep a straight face. Luckily, he was a good actor.

His dick? Not so much.

A minute passes before the teasing stops and suddenly there's a hand palming him through his designer clothes. Mid-sentence, he cuts himself off with a gasp. It's been so long since someone has touched him - since he's touched himself.

"You okay, Jungkook?" Jimin asks from beside him and Jungkook has no choice but to twist his startled expression into a small smile.

"Fine, just hungry. Can't wait for the food to come out." Jimin makes a sound of agreement. Thankfully, he doesn't hold his attention for long. Jimin turns back around to continue talking to Namjoon after giving him a concerned look. As soon as he's sure there are no eyes on him, Jungkook grabs your arm tightly and yanks you closer to him a little too roughly. This wasn't entirely uncommon. Jungkook was really, really strong and sometimes he forgot that he was... really, really strong. He had the tendency to drag you around and expressed guilt a few times thinking he's hurt you. In reality, it wasn't too bad and for some reason, you kind of enjoyed having Jungkook jerk you around. Especially in bed.

"Fuck do you think you're doing?" Jungkook says in a tone you can only describe as yelling as quietly as he can. His lips just barely ghosted over the shell of your ear and in an attempt to regain authority, you rub him a little harder through his pants, digging your palm slightly into the obvious bulge forming there. You can feel his cock twitch under your hand and he bites back a gasp.

"Nothing." You comment almost nonchalantly.

"Do you want to die? I'll give you a chance to let go, maybe I'll go easy on you when we get home." Jungkook hisses in your ear and now it's your turn to bite back a gasp. Negligent of his proposition, you continue touching him. Surprisingly, he had managed to get fully hard already, his cock having thickened up and now left a visible mark in his pants.

"Ah, foods here. Jungkook, your steak." At the sound of his name, Jungkook lets go of your arm almost as if your skin burned him. Seokjin takes the plates from the waiter and hands them to the respective member with Namjoon's help. Your food is placed in front of you but you barely pay any attention to it. How could you when there was a way better meal sitting right next to you?

The dinner continues like this for a bit. You stop touching him for a little while, waiting till he lets his guard down and brings a fork full of steak up to his mouth before returning your hand to his clothed length. He lets out a surprised, almost choked out moan only to slap a hand over his mouth. You have to hold back a snigger.

"Kookie, you sure you're okay?" Taehyung is looking at the maknae expectantly now, humor evident in his tone.

"Mmh!" Jungkook chokes back another moan when your hand unzips his dress pants and dips past the material. Why was he so sensitive all of a sudden? "'m alright! I'm- this steak, mmh, it's so good..."

"Is it really that good? Maybe I should've ordered that one..." Taehyung pouts slightly before poking at his salad. Whenever they went out to eat, Taehyung would order the coolest sounding thing on the menu, end up disappointed, then it would result in him eating the other member's food. Of course, they all happily offered to feed their precious Taehyungie - things like this always worked out in the end.

You continue your assault under the table, getting accustomed to Jungkook's length after weeks apart. There's a familiar curl of warmth under your skin when your thumb brushes over the thick head of his cock, his boxers wet with precum. How was he leaking already? The Jungkook you knew prided himself for being able to last almost five hours in bed, yet here he was, keening, thick and hard, dripping with precum after a little bit of fondling through his pants. There's a distinct feeling of power that flows through your blood at that thought.

"Hm, Jungkookie? Is it really that good?" You say quietly enough that only the man next to you can hear. Your tone was awfully smug and Jungkook didn't like that at all, not one bit.

"I'm going to fucking wreck you later, do you understand? Doing- shit- doing something like this in public? Ah, I didn't peg you as an exhibitionist." Jungkook's legs open a little wider and you really can't tell if it's subconscious or if he's doing it on purpose. Either way, it was clear he was enjoying it just as much as you were.

"I didn't peg you as an exhibitionist. You're so hard..." You say in awe. At some point during this whole encounter, you'd managed to forget just exactly why you were doing this. To be completely honest, you didn't really care.

"Wait, hah, y/n-ah..." Jungkook sputters out as quietly as he can. He had one hand on the edge of the lavish wooden table, gripping it with so much force his knuckles were turning white. You ignore his quiet pleas and instead slide your fingers over the sensitive vein that bulged on the side of his cock. You recognized it almost immediately even if you couldn't see it. Why wouldn't you recognize it - especially when you'd dragged your tongue over it so many times before. It never failed to make him go crazy.

"Y/n-ah, seriously... it's too- you're gonna-" Jungkook's legs open a bit more, his body aching for more stimulation as he bucked his hips up slightly. His cock twitches strenuously and before you can even think to pull your hand away, he's coming hard into his boxers.

Almost perfectly timed, his hand slips on the table and he knocks his wine glass over, spilling expensive alcohol all over the fancy wood and all over Taehyung's salad. The clanging of the glass on the table along with the way everyone gasps in shock overshadows the throaty moan that Jungkook lets out. He couldn't restrain it even if he tried.

"Ah, my salad!" Taehyung curses despite the fact he hasn't touched the salad more than once since it was served. Hoseok laughs at Jungkook's clumsiness and Taehyung's waterboarded salad.

"You weren't eating it anyway." Namjoon rolls his eyes and raises his hand to get the attention of a waiter. "Can we get some napkins? Or paper towels, please?"

As Namjoon and Jimin make an attempt to wipe up some of the spilled wine, you remove your hand from your boyfriend's pants. His cum had soaked through his boxers and there was a majority of it on your fingers. You didn't mind one bit.

Jungkook's eyes are far away for a moment as he comes down from the high of his first orgasm in weeks. As soon as his vision clears, you make sure the first thing he sees is you cleaning his cum off your fingers with your tongue. His eyes darken impossibly.

"I leave for a few weeks and this is what you do? You can't even wait till we're alone? The audacity of this girl." Jungkook mumbles, dialect peaking through. He quickly zips up his dress pants and he shivers at the uncomfortable feeling of cum in his boxers. He needed to get home and change asap.

"And you're laughing about it, too?" You giggle and nod. He sucks his teeth.

"I wasn't lying when I said I'd wreck you, princess." An almost sinister smirk pulls at Jungkook's lips and your smile all but falls. "Clearly, I need to give you some obedience training."

★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★

[© seokiie]

[I do not allow any translating, editing, reposting, or use of any my work!!]

[solastia]

Rogues And Charlatans | 3

Pairing: Yoongi x Seokjin

Word Count: 3,501

Summary: What is a gang leader supposed to do when his longtime rival shows up at his door, beaten and begging for help? Defend their honor, of course.

Warnings & Genre: Mafia!au, Fluff, and poorly attempted crack. There will be light violence, but nothing overly graphic. Maybe one person gets shot point blank. Basically, this isn’t a dark and serious mafia fic. It’s just a bunch of crooks in love, y’all.

The warehouse was near the seaport, nearly an hour away, and the entire drive there was made in silence. Everyone was tense and battle ready, fearing the worst but hoping for the best. Yoongi had even generously offered to let Seokjin be in control of the music if he wanted (something he never offered to anyone), but he had declined, stating the silence was comforting. Yoongi didn’t really understand that, because if anything it made him jittery, but he let it drop. Only the occasional forlorn sighs broke through the tense stillness as Yoongi tried his best to get them there as quickly as possible. 

After what felt like the longest trip of his life, the building came into view and Yoongi pulled into an alley to alert his men. The sun was just beginning to set, lending an eerie crimson glow to the area that he hoped wasn’t a sign of things to come. It had been way too long since he’d last been out doing his own dirty work, so he was maybe a little on edge. Message sent, he sighed weightily and pulled out his gun, checking it over and stashing another clip into his jacket. The car was suddenly filled with the sounds of buckles being undone and weapons being loaded and checked as the others followed suit. 

“Joonie, give me a gun.” 

“Baby, no. You’re going to be in the car and Yoongi’s men are watching. You don’t need a gun.” 

“I’m not staying here. Haven't you seen horror movies? The person that stays in the car always gets killed.” 

“I’m pretty sure it’s the opposite, sweetheart. Just stay here for me, please? I’ll be able to concentrate better if I know you’re safe.” 

“Joon! Come on!” 

Yoongi growled and pulled an extra Glock from his glove box and held it behind him. 

“Jesus Christ, if he wants to fight so bad, let him. Honestly Hoseok, I don’t even understand why you’re here.” 

Hoseok smiles widely as he meets Yoongi’s eyes in the rearview mirror. 

“If Jungkookie is hurt he’ll need me.” 

Yoongi supposed that was true. “Still, stay close to us. Don’t draw attention to yourself. Do you even know how to shoot that?” 

Hoseok shrugged sheepishly, which Yoongi took to mean he didn’t. 

“Have Namjoon explain it before we get out. Only shoot if you have to. How someone could apparently work for three fucking gangs and not know how to shoot is a mystery,” he sighed, then pulled out his phone to send one last text to let his men know they were ready. 

“I’m a doctor. People tend to avoid shooting the person that keeps them alive and asks no questions.” Hoseok smirks before turning to quietly talk to Namjoon. 

Yoongi shook his head fondly, then turned to Seokjin, 

“You ready?” 

Yoongi had admittedly never seen Seokjin in action before, so the person next to him was practically a stranger. Seokjin was sitting ramrod straight, his gaze locked onto the warehouse in front of them. His eyes were hard and cold and his plush lips that were usually laughing or smirking were set in a hard line. He already had his good hand firmly clenched around his Beretta and had his injured arm hidden in the folds of his jacket. You could barely tell he was hurt. He looked like a man that could kill you without a thought before going to have tea with his mother. This was the crime boss Kim Seokjin and Yoongi had very complicated emotions about the way he looked right now. The sudden image of him on his knees staring up at this version of Seokjin was one that he didn’t think would go away very soon. 

Seokjin turned to him, his eyes softening for a moment as he nodded. Yoongi answered with a quirk of his lips then signaled to everyone else. They silently left the car, barely closing to doors to not make a sound. Seokjin was on his left and Namjoon took his usual spot on his right. Jimin and Hoseok were behind him, with Jimin taking the initiative to guard Hoseok. 

They prowled towards the side door Yoongi’s man had told him about, the guard already having been taken out the moment he’d told them they were here. He whistled lowly and his guard noiselessly appeared out of the shadows, twelve men circling around the group with their firearms aimed ahead. Seokjin turned to Yoongi with a smirk, impressed. He wiggled his eyebrows and grinned, pleased to get to show off. He knew he had some of the best-trained men in the game.

The man that Yoongi had working undercover was the one that met them by the door, guiding them in silently and pointing to the office on the third floor where the leader was holed up. Jungkook would also be found there in a separate room, with the leader’s brother as a guard. 

Yoongi signaled his men to go ahead of them to silently take out as many as they could before they were found out, only keeping a couple with his party as backup. The last thing he wanted was for this leader to run off. He wanted to get a few kicks in himself before presenting the asshole to Seokjin with a god damn ribbon and letting him do what he wanted. 

As his group quietly stalked up the stairs, he could hear occasional grunts or the telltale muffled burst as someone used a silencer. His men were quick and efficient, as usual, and soon had both the first and second floors cleared. There were two guards blocking the way to the office and Yoongi jerked his head towards one to signal Seokjin to take him out as he took on the other one. 

Yoongi used the butt of his gun to knock the guy out, not wanting to waste a bullet on someone so insignificant, and the low grunt as Seokjin used his knife on the other showed a ruthlessness that Yoongi wasn’t aware he was capable of. 

He was both turned on and a little terrified. 

Namjoon set his foot on the door and waited for Yoongi to count down before slamming it open, nearly tearing the door on the hinge. The five people inside all jumped up and clumsily turned their guns on them, before lowering them just as quickly as Yoongi’s men, now numbering thirty easily, began to crowd into the room. All the people in Yoongi’s group, even Hoseok, had their guns trained on five men. The terror on their faces was amusing. They knew there was no getting out of this one. 

“Which one of you asswipes is the leader?” Yoongi asked nonchalantly, strolling closer and looking them. Not a single one of them looked very impressive. 

A stocky and nearly bald guy walks forward, dressed in knockoff streetwear and at least ten chains that were probably painted plastic. The man is obviously scared, but trying his best to maintain face in front of his guys, strutting towards Yoongi and pointing his chin up in a way he apparently thought was intimidating. 

“That’s me. Who the fuck are you?” 

Yoongi guffawed at the brazenness of this asshole, pointing at the man and sharing an amused grin with Namjoon. 

“Seriously? You’re that fucking stupid? You come into my town and start shit, not knowing who the big boys are? I’m Min Fucking Yoongi, ring any bells now?” 

The man's face goes white, obviously aware of the name even if he hadn’t known him on sight. 

“I didn’t do anything towards you, man. This is just a little business.” 

“No, see. It doesn’t work like that. When you play a game, you level up and work your ass off before you can fight the boss. You don’t stride into town with a handful of petty thugs and think you can win. You went right after Kim Seokjin, someone who has been at this longer than you’ve been alive, and think you can take him on. It’s only a matter of time before you think you can fuck with me, and that isn’t happening. Where’s the fucking kid?” 

“Look, just give me what I asked for and we can all go home happy, huh? All I wanted was a cut, no big deal to you guys, right?” 

Seokjin growled, sending shivers down Yoongi’s spine. 

“Give me Jungkook. I’m not as nice as Yoongi so I won’t ask again.” 

“And I said give me what I asked for. You want to “play the game” or whatever you geezers were calling it, right? Just-”

A gunshot sounded, a little too close to Yoongi’s ear for his comfort, and the leader fell to the ground. The wound was in the middle of his forehead, a perfect headshot. Yoongi quickly turned behind him and caught Jimin’s eye. He shrugged and huffed. 

“What? I hate it when people let the bad guy talk so much. The whole evil monologue thing is annoying as hell.” 

Yoongi shook his head, but his lips quirked in an amused smirk. Maybe the Park kid wasn’t half bad. 

Yoongi looked over the remaining men, all who looked ready to bolt. 

“Get the fuck out. Or stay, if you want to join your friend here.” 

The remaining thugs ran out of the room, a couple stumbling after Yoongi’s guards tripped them. He sighed as he watched them run for it. It was hard to find good help these days. He knew his men wouldn’t dream of running like cowards. 

“Well, this was a little anticlimactic, wasn’t it?” Hoseok chuckled. 

“Jungkook?!” Seokjin yelled out, trying to guess which of the three doors ahead of them lead to his brother’s location. 

“Kookie baby, you in here?” Jimin joined him in tapping on the doors and peering inside the unlocked ones. 

“IN HERE!” Jungkook’s voice rang from the metal door near the back of the office, where it was, of course, locked from the outside. 

They heard the murmur of duel voices talking excitedly inside the room and Jimin stayed by the door as Namjoon looked around for a key or something. They found the key in the leader’s pocket and rushed to open the door. 

Jimin had his gun pointed towards the other man in the room as Seokjin ran to Jungkook and gathered him up, his former cold exterior melting as he inspected his brother for damage. Jungkook was rumpled from wearing the same clothes for the past couple days but otherwise seemed undamaged.

“I’m okay, Jin, really. Taehyung didn’t let them hurt me. He convinced them they’d get more if they left me alone. We’ve just been in here playing cards and watching Netflix on his phone. It was a nice vacation really, although food service sucked,” Jungkook giggles as he tugged himself from Seokjin’s grasp and walked over to Jimin. 

“Hey babe, I missed you.” 

Jimin lowered his gun and wrapped Jungkook into his arms, tucking his head into the crook of his neck.

“I missed you. Never do that again.” 

“I promise I’ll never get kidnapped again,” Jungkook chuckled, before turning and gesturing towards the other man. “Guys, this is Taehyung. He’s the boss’s brother, but he’s cool.” 

“Yeah? Well, your brother’s dead. I killed him,” Jimin sneered, although the friendly demeanor of Taehyung’s didn’t change. 

He shrugged, still smiling brightly. “ Half brother. He was a dick. Kicked me around a lot. Won’t miss him. So you’re Jimin? Jungkookie wasn’t kidding when he said you were gorgeous. Hello, pretty Jiminie.” 

Yoongi observed the trio with a quirked eyebrow, not even wanting to know where this was going, although watching Jimin flounder and blush under Taehyung’s flirty grin was a little amusing. 

He turned to Seokjin, who was finally starting to wilt now that adrenaline was no longer fueling him. 

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you in a bed before you collapse.” 

Seokjin beamed down at him as he draped his arm across Yoongi’s shoulders. 

“You called me a pet name,” Seokjin crooned as they wobbled down the steps. 

“Lies and slander.” Yoongi could feel his face heating up, trying to reason with himself that it was just from the effort of trying to lug this giant around. 

“It’s only fair I get to call you one now. Hmm, honey? Pookie? Cupcake?” 

Seokjin’s teasing grin was burning a hole into Yoongi’s brain, he was sure of it. And it stopped altogether when Seokjin’s voice deepened and he whispered, “Baby boy?” right into his ear. 

Yoongi glared up at Seokjin, whose knowing smile only grew in size as Yoongi tried his best to intimidate the other into silence. 

He helped Seokjin into the car and buckled him up before going around and getting into the driver’s seat. The back slowly filled up, Hoseok on Namjoon’s lap and Jimin in Jungkook’s. Taehyung was in the middle for some reason and Yoongi looked at him curiously. 

“Why are you in my car?” 

“He’s coming with me to Jimin’s,” Jungkook mumbled into Jimin’s shoulder as he cuddled into the smaller man. 

“And Jimin is okay with this?” Seokjin asked, peering around his seat as much as his bruised ribs would allow. 

“Yeah. It’s cool,” Jimin answered airily, although Yoongi caught the flash of interest in his eyes as he glanced at Taehyung. 

Yoongi and Seokjin shared a look and decided to drop it. 

The ride back was almost as silent as it was before, although it lacked the tense air. Instead, it was like everyone was basking in relief, relishing the safety of each other. There had been many deaths that night, but as Yoongi took in the relaxed faces of those around him, he couldn’t find it in him to feel guilty.

He rolled into the gravel driveway of his mansion, coming to a stop by the front steps. A couple of his men met them there and opened the car doors for them. Yoongi walked around to help Seokjin out as the rest of them assisted each other out of the back. 

Yoongi backed off and stood awkwardly on his front steps as Seokjin hugged Jungkook, saying goodbye and nagging him into coming home for dinner eventually. Soon Jimin came and collected Jungkook from his clinging older brother and began herding him and Taehyung towards his own car. Yoongi cleared his throat and clasped Jimin’s shoulder to hold him back for a moment. 

“You did good today, kid. I think everyone should meet here at my place tomorrow afternoon, maybe talk about a few things.” 

Jimin raised an eyebrow in surprise. “What? Like a partnership?” 

“Something like that,” Yoongi shrugged. “Gotta admit, you impressed me and it felt good having you on my side. We’ll talk about it more tomorrow.” 

Jimin nodded with a small grin and threaded his arm through Jungkook’s as he led him to his car, with Taehyung already inside waiting for them. Yoongi lifted his hand in a small wave as they drove off before he turned to the rest of the party. 

Hoseok was looking over Seokjin’s arm, while Namjoon made eye contact with Yoongi only to make suggestive eyebrow waggles while gesturing at Seokjin. Who the fuck knew what he was trying to say but Yoongi was having none of it. 

“Are you guys going to take Seokjin straight home or what's the plan?” 

“Actually,” Seokjin laid his hand gently on Yoongi’s shoulder. “I was hoping I could just stay here again tonight? I really don’t feel like having to be in a car again. I’m tired and hungry, and I’d really like one of those pain pills now.” 

Yoongi’s eyes widened as the depth of Seokjin’s exhaustion finally showed in his voice. 

“Fuck, of course! Namjoon, you mind?” 

“On it.” Namjoon gently scooped Seokjin up and started the journey into the mansion and up the stairs. Seokjin smiled sweetly at Yoongi over Joon’s shoulder. 

Yoongi let out a long-suffering sigh and Hoseok patted his shoulder like he understood his pain. 

“I’ll fix you guys something to eat. I’m sure you’re dying for a shower.” Hoseok offered as he walked beside Yoongi into the house. He nodded and quietly thanked Hoseok as he slowly trekked upstairs. 

Yoongi’s own exhaustion was finally hitting him, the adrenaline that had kept him going all day now a thing of the past. He heard the shower going in Seokjin’s room as he passed it, and willed the thought of wet and naked Seokjin far from his mind. Luckily, he was too fatigued for any blood to head where he didn’t want it right now. 

Once his own shower was done and he was clothed comfortably he went next door, finding Seokjin digging into a tray full of food enthusiastically. It looked like there was enough for two, which was probably how Hoseok’s meddling ass intended it. Seokjin waved him over and patted the empty spot next to him on the bed, scooting the tray so it would be in the middle where they both could reach. 

Yoongi took a bread roll and slowly picked it apart, popping a piece into his mouth every now and then. He was hungry, but he was almost too tired to really worry about it. He simply sighed and relished the warm weight of Seokjin sitting next to him as they ate in silence, as Seokjin somehow ate quietly for what must be the first time in his life. 

Once the tray was finished - ninety percent of it consumed by Seokjin - Yoongi picked it up and set it on the floor, planning on taking it with him when he left the room. 

“You already take your pill?” He asked, looking over at the content albeit drained Seokjin settling into his covers. 

“Yeah. Hoseok gave it to me before he and Namjoon went to bed. Did you know he lives here?” 

That was definitely news to Yoongi. He’d known the annoying doctor was around a lot, but not that he shared Namjoon’s room. 

“Next time he tries to bill me I’ll have to tell him it’s part of his rent.” 

Seokjin hummed and scooted closer to Yoongi. The blankets were a bit of a barrier, with Yoongi on top of them as Seokjin was underneath, but it still felt amazingly intimate to Yoongi. 

“Hey,” Seokjin whispered, so close that Yoongi could feel little puffs of air against his side. “You were amazing today. Thank you for helping me.” 

“Yeah, well...” Yoongi shrugged, coughing a bit to cover up his awkwardness. “You know there's nothing I hate more than wannabe thugs.” 

Seokjin gave a little throaty hum and leaned over, pressing a featherlight kiss against Yoongi’s side. Even though all that Seokjin’s lips touched were the cloth of Yoongi’s pajama shirt, it still felt like it was burning his skin. 

“My hero,” Seokjin practically whispered, as his eyes began to drift shut. 

“You’re tired. I’ll leave you to it,” Yoongi practically leap up in a rush to get away and scream in private, but Seokjin reached out and lightly tugged on his shirt. 

“Stay? I feel safer when you stay.” 

And oh fuck, who was he to say no to that? 

Yoongi inhaled a shaky breath and nodded, lifting the covers up to slide underneath. He leaned over and shut off the light before trying to settle in. He stared up at the dark ceiling as his mind tried to process what was happening. Only it got worse, as Seokjin tiredly cooed and slid even closer, draping his good arm around Yoongi and tangling their legs together. He thought this should feel weird or uncomfortable, but as he felt Seokjin’s cheek settling onto his chest and inhaled the freshly washed sandalwood scent of him, it just seemed...right. 

Yoongi was grateful for the dark veil of night as he couldn’t fight off the contented smile growing on his face. He closed his eyes and settled in for the best nights sleep he’d had in years. 

[c4rr10n]

tea time or w/e if you want some entertainment lol

so last night my roommate and “friend” (by proxy, i suppose) hijacked a conversation i was having with another roommate. i was going to go out of town tonight to see an old family friend i haven’t seen in years, and they were asking about that, to which i explained that due to unfortunate circumstances I wouldn’t be making it, and that I was really bummed about said circumstances (the 6k min surgery thing F) and not getting to see my friend.  anyway, person b, my other roommate, walks in and hijacks the convo. they are going through a breakup (so am i, but to a more intense caliber as we had been living together and essentially married, sharing expenses, she helped mother my cat/child, etc, you get it) and tried to outright state that what he and i are going through are the same. They are NOT. person b is going through a typical break up, I am more or less going through an unofficial divorce with less paperwork and no hearings. My entire life has been destabilized, I lost my housing, my cat lost her mother and is evidently depressed, my financial situation and much of my future plans are in shambles. The only thing still truly completely in my control is my schoolwork right now - and thank god I at least have that and my cat. My now-ex was my end all be all, and she lied to me, withheld crucial information from me, and cheated on me. Because she was afraid of change, afraid of losing me so much she defaulted to illogically and detrimentally protecting herself to the extent of harming me and completely sabotaging our relationship. She and our life together were my everything. Additionally, I only have one friend in this town. My closest friends by distance are three hours away. Person B has many in the immediate vicinity, and also has other partners as they are polyamorous. So, no, our situations are not remotely the same. Their pain is real and I empathize, but their struggle lies in being sad over chinese food because that’s something he and his ex used to do together - my struggles stem from nearly every aspect of my life being evidence that everything I had established for my present and future has been not only uprooted, but all for naught. Not the same. I found it very disrespectful and dismissive among other things, but I am not the type to indulge others in my affairs so their ignorance is on me. So I let it slide. But they kept going on and on about it, forcing the room to be subject to their little petty tragedy.  In an attempt to diffuse and redirect the conversation I shared a story of my own. I said, “If it makes you feel better,” and told the most absurd tale i’ve ever experienced in which i was drugged with delaudid while on xanax and overdosed, and the guy responsible attempted to kidnap me - the proof of which was in that i had to get him to return to where he left me (someone stopped him from taking me, thank fuck) because all my shit was in his truck. and a month later, still suffering the mental and physical aftermath of OD bc no one took me to the hospital and even dissuaded me from doing so the following day - my life came unraveled and it was too much, and especially due to the mental effects of the OD, and I was young and dumb, and well... I tried to end it all. my partner at the time responded by dumping me and fucking my neighbor two days later! i mean, by god LOL. I know there’s a lot to unpack here, but at surface level, it’s a hell of a story. It’s so ridiculous it’s funny. Like truly some deranged soap opera shit. I shared this story because it’s RIDICULOUS. It’s outlandish. Few experiences can hold a candle to just how fucking intense and kooky the story is. It’s like a fucking Shakespeare play lol. Also because I know that because person b had been expecting my friend to dump them, they staged a suicide by eating a bottle and a half of tylenol after my friend had gone back home. My friend had come over to support them because they were going to admit themself to the mental hospital - which I respect. It’s good to know when you need help, and do what you need to to get better and get it together. I respect trying. However, earlier in during that night while my friend was still present, they simply... walked out of the house! And the last time they’d done that was about a year prior - to pull a suicide stunt. They lured my friend out to a bridge, acting as if they intended to jump. It’s important to know at this point that there are numerous ways to ensure a successful suicide in this house, especially because almost everyone here is doing HRT - an embolism will easily take care of the light in your eyes with little to no mess, and sleeping pills to ensure you feel no pain. There are also multiple resources for a hanging, to bleed out in the tub if you want to go out with theatrics and REALLY traumatize your loved ones (since, yknow, inflicting trauma and urgency upon their peers seemed to be an important factor in person b’s suicide plan), to list a few. It was a stunt. Additionally, if you have been following me for long enough, you will know that I lost a very dear friend to suicide nearly two years ago and the toll it took was inexplicable - it literally changed my life forever. So, I do not take such actions lightly. But it’s not my place to put them in theirs, so I keep it to myself.  Returning to the conversation which person b hijacked, they responded by saying that my friend (who is genuinely one of the most upstanding and genuinely kind and passionate and sentimental people I have ever met in my life, and also really has his shit together - lives independently and works for the city helping disadvantaged individuals in community and generally just being accessible to anyone who might need help of any caliber) had done to them what that particular ex had done. It was such a short statement, it happened so quickly, by the time they’d finished saying the words I wasn’t sure they had actually just said them. Why? Because as formerly mentioned, year ago they pulled a similar stunt - staged a suicide attempt - and my friend, against his better judgement - let this event slide, and has regretted it since. While I told him that he had been sitting on his uncertainty for too long, he continued to extend himself time and time again for person b, no matter the toll it took on him. They have continuously exhibited harmful behaviors - mostly to others, but some to themself (most of which include complacency), and in the past few months I have been the one that my friend confided in about how this person had been hurting them. And ofc, I understand and appreciate that my roommate (person b) and i have almost all of the same mental health diagnoses - but frankly I have about 4 years on them and exponentially more life skills. Not boasting here, just stating a fact. They are very irresponsible and immature. This is why my friend broke up with them. As one does - their places in life were just too different and incompatible to the point of dealing harm to my friend. Such situations are often simply a part of life - very normal, very common.  Anyway, so my roommate tried to spin the whole situation differently than it happened, omitted multiple poor and extreme choices of their own, and intentionally implied that my friend (and also the friend of the entire household, and the one who introduced them to the household) had left them because of the suicide. Which... when stated so plainly, is not entirely untrue, but is not entirely true - it is a misleading technical truth. They intentionally obscured the truth to sell a version of the story that painted my friend as “the bad guy,” and themself as having moral high ground. It was never just the suicide attempt, it was never the reason why they felt suicide was an option - to which I can empathize and sympathize. But rather It was all the reasons why not to do such a thing where evident everywhere, and their neglect to all these reasons - including how deeply horrific and painful it was for those of us who care about them. It is also greatly because they never intended to succeed, they intended it as a cry for attention. To say this is inappropriate is a criminal understatement, lol. So when they made this statement, so easily, so quickly - I just... kind of stared at them. They clearly must think I know nothing. Either that or that I’m a fool. Either that or they are such a fool it hasn’t occurred to them that I would reasonably know the details of their relationship, being that I am their now-ex’s best friend and confidant.  So I just said that “unfortunately,” I had business law assignments due at the end of the night I had to attend to. I finished loading up the dishwasher and returned to my room. I let the interaction marinate in my mind.  Now, it’s crucial to know that person B knows next to nothing about me. Honestly, none of these people really know anything about me besides the fact that I am, in general, on the other end of a major break up and that I’m a mortuary sciences student. This is intentional, as I have extreme trust issues, and live by the saying “not my monkeys, not my circus,” and I apply this statement to and fro; you can’t have mine and I don’t want yours unless you are a part of my circus. And exceedingly few are truly a part of my circus. So person B doesn’t know anything I’ve been through, they don’t know how much I know - which is everything - and they don’t know just how far I’ve come. They don’t know that one of my favorite people was found nearly two weeks post mortem on the other end of a rope, that I was initially lied to about the event for social capital, or that the lie was preferable to the reality, or that the entire event sent me into legitimate psychosis and when I came out of it I was almost a completely different person. They don’t know that entirely isolated myself as a response or that I ended up in this town because I was running from that. They don’t know that I didn’t leave my house or speak to anyone - at all - for at least 6 months following discovering said lie. They don’t know that their ex is my best and only true friend and confidant here. They don’t know how nigh inextricably entwined my ex and I were and how devastating this entire process has been for me. I already had deeply affecting trust issues, and this has only impacted them, if not completely officiated a decision to entirely withdraw from other humans. I do not leave my room except to cook, clean the house or myself. They don’t know that I know the vast majority of the contents that make up the person who is their now-ex, and thus the vast a majority of their relationship. They don’t know that my mother used to beat me or that my father was never there to witness it until one day it boiled over and she had me pinned against a wall because she had figured out I was queer while she was in an ill-medicated induced state of psychosis. They don’t know that I struggle with violent intrusive thoughts to such an extent that I have to take medications for it. They don’t know I have a collection of medical equipment, medical textbooks, and a bowie knife in my room and that if they or anyone else were to overstep too much or I snap, I can make them disappear, and that have access to places that will ensure their disappearance is permanent - though such a thing is outlandish and unreasonable, the facts still stand all the same. They don’t know why I wish to engage with the dead, that I find the biological process fascinating and beautiful and the medical processes involved soothing and cathartic. They don’t know that I used to be just like them but worse. They don’t know that after being on both sides of the fence, I am forever painfully aware that surviving a loved one’s suicide is infinitely more painful than surviving your own. They don’t know that I know that if they knew that, they wouldn’t have pulled the suicide stunt, and if they are aware of this, that makes it exponentially worse. They don’t know that I’ve seen far too much I can never unsee, and that I now have no choice but to live with that. They don’t know that I’m ok with that, now, and I’m using the worst I’ve been through to create my best self and life. They can only see the visible aftermath all this left to forever mar my skin.  So yes, it’s an intentional choice to withhold my information from everyone. And in doing so, person B never realizes that I catch them red handed at every opportunity, and how much respect I’ve lost for them in a matter of weeks. That every time they try to manipulate my opinions, they not only fail but are rendering themself vulnerable and more visible to me. They don’t realize how much of them I can see with so little telling - they don’t realize that I know they can’t bare their pain being unknown, and that they know they are pathetic only just enough to lie about their personal situations and events to obscure their nature. They truly have no idea of anything occurring between us. It’s almost funny.

The more I’ve thought about it, the more I’ve realized that they truly have no idea that I was literally the worst person in existence to make such statements to lol. After sleeping on it, I’ve decided that while in turn I have closed myself off from them, and as much as I’d like to tell them off and force them to learn better that I cannot, but most of all it infuriates me to hear them talk about my friend - everyone’s friend - like that. I can’t change them, where they are in life, or their poor coping skills, but I can put enough fear into them to hopefully dissuade them from ever trying to spout such slanderous bullshit again. I will address it with them, I don’t entirely expect them to truly cognate what I tell them but I need to make it clear that if they ever fucking make such a statement in front of me, and lest there be others, I WILL embarrass them in front of everyone in the room. Fucking idiot 

[tellywoodtrash]

ishqbaaz 10.07.17 lb

from now on, expect the lb to be published around this time. coz i fully have to take a 2 hour nap to prepare myself for these one hour episodes. lord, they better be worth it! GIVE ME MY BROTP MOMENTS (obros, bhaujai/bulbul, aniRuKara, ShivRi) AND I’LL TOLERATE ANYTHING!!!!!! 

ok let’s doooooooo this! *cracking knuckles*

plain text version here. 

it would have been nice if you’d informed RAGINI of this decision of yours... 😗😗😗

interesting how he just keeps saying ENGAGEMENT, and nothing about what usually follows an engagement... 😐😐😐

lmao oh man i just can’t stop laughing at ragini’s reaction. she’s seriously likeeee BISH WHUT IS EVEN HAPPENING? IS THIS A PRANK SHOW? IS CYRUS BROACHA GONNA COME OUT AND YELL BAKRAAAAAA AT ME? 😟😟😟

lololololololol everyyyyyyyy woman shivaay decides to marry has the same reaction: “.... shit. 😬😬😬” 

saved by the belllllllllll.... yas girl, you go out on your date! 😙😙😙

lmao his face. fucking idiot. what did he think, she’d instantly collapse and run into his arms at this stunt of his? 🙄🙄🙄

shivaay is having some seeeeeeeerious buyer’s remorse right now. ragini is one item that the return policy is going to prove to be veryyyyyyy tough for. 🙃🙃🙃

pinky does not know how to read the room. at all. 😑😑😑

shakti/jhanvi and (surprisingly) bhavya’s silent rage tho. 😯😯😯

shakti is trying to dad, but beta is too out of it. 😔😔😔

i think ragini is already regretting this whole thing. lmao, we all have those crushes which are way better in our head, coz the reality could never live up to it. this is one of them. she just liked looking at his kanji eyes!!!!!!!!! and now she has to deal with the whole crazy khaandaan that comes with him. 😆😆😆

anikaaaa, baby. no cryyyyyyyyyyyyy. 😪😪😪

LMAO “PYAAAR”, anika’s brain is like 0 - 200 in 3 seconds. 🙄🙄🙄

haan bas ring ko dekhta reh. fucking idiot. 😒😒😒

ok yeah, i like ragini too now. poor, hilarious, slightly off her rocker but in a kooky way, ragini. 😊😊😊

i’m glad they made ragini more likable. i hate hating on female characters. hating pinky itself is exhausting. 😖😖😖

ooooooooooh, GHARWAALI V/S BAAHARWAALI. 😧😧😧

don’t underestimate our girl here. she’s not your “typical housewife”. 😏😏😏

oh anika... why the “tum jaisi ladki” nonsense???? you don’t even know her. she might end up to be a good one, in the end. like tia did. 😌😌😌

ooooooh snap! point ragini! 😯😯😯

lol ragini is going all tia-ish on shivaay with “destiny” and shiz. 😕😕😕

ooooop. sapnaaaaaaaa meraaaaaaa toooooot gayaaaaaa. 😥😥😥

thank god this hot mess of a man did the right thing FOR ONCE and cleared it up though. not that it’s going to be of any use. coz ragini is gonna make sure this gets out into the press and becomes a big thing and shivaay’s going to be dragged into this kicking and screaming. 😬😬😬

quickkkkkkkk recovery. impressive, girl! veryyyyy impressive! 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽

she’s never going to wash that shoulder again. 😆😆😆

anika, why are you still in the damn house? go for your date, idiot. like at least go out and pretend to be on it. so that he burnsssss in his agony for a few hours. 😈😈😈

ouff again kamra and ghar waale issues. why don’t you just pee around the room to mark your territory, you idiots? pfffffffft. 🙄🙄🙄

daaaaaaaamn, anika not in the mood to take ANY shit. basically told him to go fuck himself. i can feel my skin instantly clearing up at her sass. 😇😇😇

OMG ANIKA. YOU ON FIRE. KILL HIM, SIS. FUCKING SLIT HIS THROAT AND DRINK HIS BLOOD! 😈😈😈

“bataane ki zaroorat nahi hai, mujhe pehle se hi sab kuch pata hai.”

because he’s been stalking you, idiot girl. get the hint. 😚😚😚

TOO MUCH FARAQ-ING, NOT ENOUGH FUCKING. THAT’S YOUR PROBLEM KIDS. JUST HAVE SEX ALREADY. 😒😒😒

“achcha? aap move on ho chuke hai? ab MOVE OUT bhi ho jaaiye.” 

*actually, physically throws him out of his own fucking room* 

OMFG YOUGAIZ, I THOUGHT I WAS IN LOVE WITH ANIKA BEFORE, BUT NOW I KNOW THAT WHAT I USED TO FEEL FOR HER ARE LITTLE BABY FEELINGS OF LIKE. WHAT I’M FEELING RIGHT NOW, THIS IS WHAT LOVE IS. JESUS CHRIST, WHAT A GIRL. WHAT A FUCKING GIRL. AN ICON. A GODDESS. I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M WITNESSING THIS WITH MY OWN TWO EYES IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD TWO THOUSAND AND SEVENTEEN. #BLESSED 🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽

aw man, his hurt face. but also his disbelief that she actually fucking threw him out of his own fucking room. i’m just sitting here making weird, inhuman, half-laughing, half-crying snuffly noises. 😭😭😭😭😭

gauri kumari sharma, trying to escape this actual hellhole once again... but... 😕😕😕

what horrible dubbing. horrible horrible dubbing. it sounds like kunal is talking from fucking underwater. 😑😑😑

“aur agar main kahoon mat jao? RUK JAO?”

“KYUN?” 

yaaaaaaaaas, askkkk him, queen. QUESTION HIM. 😌😌😌

yehhhhhhhhh pakdaaaaaaa. 😍😍😍

why does she have a large... tinsel, rakhi type thing hanging from her kangans? 🤔🤔🤔

“MUJHE MERI GALTIYON KA EHSAAS HO GAYA HAI. I’M SORRY.”

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAS. 😭😭😭😭😭

gauri, my queen. my perfect, beautiful, flawless queen. 👸🏽👸🏽👸🏽

RETURN OF OLD, CALM, SORTED, RATIONAL OMKARA. 😯😯😯😭😭😭🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

haha awwwwwww gauri. 😘😘😘

“yeh MERA ghar hai???” lmaooooooooo oh omki. you adorable fucking pupppyyyyy. 💗💗💗

oh ho, i’m so not interested in rudra’s plot with bhavya. like, i love rudra, and i can tolerate bhavya in the bg reacting to things, but as a couple, ughhhhhhhhh. 😫😫😫

lmao typicalllll rudra move. remember when sumo kept trying to tell him about romi, and he just wouldn’t listen, and then he blamed her for not telling him???? stupid boy. 🙄🙄🙄

“sarvGUN sampoorn bahuuuuu”, lollllll. 😂😂😂

the weird dramatic music so doesn’t go with the comic nature of the scene? 🤔🤔🤔

why does he keep saying “COP” like it’s a dirty word?? 😕😕😕

i mean, cops are fucking dirty... but still... 😐😐😐

ouffffffffffffff, emoshunnnnnnnnnnn. 😫😫😫

whatever, i still feel NOTHING for these two. 🙄🙄🙄

haaaaaaaye, my three fucking idiots, all together. 👶🏽👶🏽👶🏽 aankhein taras gayii thiiiiii. 

snorttttttttt “SHUT UP RUDRA!!!!!!!!” before he even saiddd anything. 😂😂😂

oh yeah, and you being an asshole had ABSOOOOOOLUTELY nothing to do with getting thrown out, eh? 😆😆😆

YAAAAAAAAAAS BHAUJAAAI VENTING TO BULBUL!!!! 😚😚😚 (and bhavya, but lbr who cares about her?) 

lmaoooo, anika’s thesis on FARAQ (and steamrolling all over poor gauri.) 😂😂😂

oh yeh lo, idhar yeh bhi lecture de raha hai on the topic du jour. 🙄🙄🙄

dimaag ho, toh nikaal sakte the. you seem to be sharing one dimaag between the three of you. imbeciles. 😒😒😒

bhauuuujaiiiii and bulbulllllllll are sharinggggg vocabularyyyyyyy!!!!!! I LOVEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 😍😍😍😍

so, established that rudra’s birthday is 10th july. he’s a cancerian. 

funny, i’d have pegged om to be the cancerian. oh well. 😗😗😗

EW WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS “LAUNDE HAI KAMAAL KE” THING NOW???? I’D JUST GOTTEN USED TO DIL BOLE OBEROI AFTER ONE WHOLE FUCKING YEAR AND YOU FUCKERS GO AND SPRING THIS NEW MICHMICHI WAALA SLOGAN ON ME? THE FUCKKKK. 😫😫😫😫😫😫😫

naaaaaariiiii sssssakti jindaaabaaaaaad! 👯🏽👯🏽👯🏽

god i love gauri so much. she’s too fucking cute to be real. 😚😚😚

lmaooooooo everyone got messages, but NEITHER GROUP INVITED PINKY. FUCKING BESTTTTTTTT. 😆😆😆

damnnnn, jhanvi looks so fucking amazing. 😯😯😯

my godddddddddd, pinky, way to make even THIS about you. victim complex mein post-doctoral kar rakha hai pinky ne. 😣😣😣

“party kam, PARTITION zyaada lag raha hai mujhe.”

snort. tej made a funnnnyyyy. 😆😆😆

ok not laughing at your jokes, you fucking wife burner. 😒😒😒 

(headcanon: advay singh raizada took arson lessons from tej.) 

ouff do i have to watch this stupid cheesy cake nonsense? really? i’m already tireddddddd. 😖😖😖

23. we finally have an age for rudra. 🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽

and how old is bhavya supposed to be again? 🤔🤔🤔

WHY IS THE BIRTHDAY BOY WEARING CLOTHES THAT HAVE BEEN EATEN BY RATS????????? 😐😐😐

also, ouff, such old fashioned birthday song. we have newer options (+more rudra-appropriate), you know? 😊😊😊

*hissing* “rudra, yahaaan aa. 2 v/s 3 ho raha hai, and it’s not fair!”

businessman of the year, and grownass adult, shivaay singh oberoi, everyone!!!! (fuckinggggggg petty idiot.) 😂😂😂😂

awww the girls got rudyyyy a “peeeroteen jyaada aur meetha kam” cake! 💖💖💖

oh boy, om had a hand in making the cake too? *looks at it warily* 😬😬😬

“haan gaana koi bhi gaa sakta hai.... lekin sun sab nahi sakte na... aur khaas kar aap gaaye toh...” hahahahaha 😂😂😂

gauri patting anika’s arm to console her. ughhhhhhh. i love these two together sooooooooo much. 😍😍😍

pft, om ab tum KHOON AUR KHAANDAAN ke baare mein shuru mat ho jaana. 😒😒😒

“WHAT’S GOING ONNNNNNN?” tej is me. i am tej. 

... what’s wrong with that cake? just the icing is a little messed up. why would you still not eat it???? ugh, rich ppl. 😑😑😑

lollllllll rudraaaaa, dhokebaaaaaaaz, dil bole oberoi, kamaal launde whatever my assss. cake khaane ke liye bhool gaya bhaichaara. 😆😆😆

OK SHIVAAY, I’VE TOLERATED A LOT OF YOUR BS, BUT CAKE MUTILATION???????? A WHOLE NEW LOW FOR YOU, FUCKER. A WHOLEEEEEEEEE NEW LOW. 😡😡😡

lol omRu’s faces at this totally extra alpha male garbage. 😂😂😂

the devranis are vaguely uncomfortable with shivaay’s suggestive frosting licking, looking straight at anika. 😆😆😆

anika: “BHAVYA!!!!!!!!!! INHE ARREST KARO! ABHI KE ABHI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” bhavya: *equally mad* “HUM TOH KAR LETE! LEKIN INDIAN PENAL CODE MEIN CAKE KA KHOON KARNE KI KOI SAZAA HI NAHI HAI, KAMBAKHT!!!!!!!”

lmaoooooooooooooooooo 😂😂😂😂

neither of the cakes was this colour or consistency? yeh teesra cake kahaan se? HOW MANY CAKES DID YOU ASSHOLES DESTROY TO SHOOT THIS FUCKING SCENE????? THERE ARE PEOPLE SUFFERING IN THIS WORLD (ME), CAKE-LESS! 😫😫😫

“jeeee baaaaaaaaaaat bhaujaaaaaaaai! bahut bol rahe the bade bhaiyya!” 

lmao oh bulbul. tumse yeh umeed nahi thi! yours was the brOTP i placed about allllll others in this houseeee. 😌😌😌

billu, if you had the slightest bit of sense in your head, you’d pull a holi reprise and smear her back all sexy and shit. but you dumb as fuckkkkkkkkk, so..... 😒😒😒

ok he’s still maarofying chance and feeling her face up all sexily. good. not aaaaaaaas dumb as he looks. 😎😎😎

OMG SMUG KISSY FACE. 😧😧😧

lol anika’s ‘fuckkkk off and die’ face at it, though. 😂😂😂

bulbul decided why should bhaujaiiii have all the fun? 😊😊

haha, cake wali holi. omg whyyyyyyyyyyyyy is she so fucking cuteeeeee? 😍😍😍

pinky and tej be like *maya sarabhai voice* GOD, THIS IS SO MIDDLE CLASS! 😆😆😆

i like that bhavya’s (seems to be???) stronger/better than rudra. 😊😊😊

lmao omg she was fully going to kick his ass if om hadn’t intervened. 😂😂😂

jungleeeee bachche toh hamesha se the. bas, this is the healthiest way this has manifested in this show ever. 😐😐😐

ok fwding this buddhon ka nonsense. don’t care. 🙄🙄🙄

pinky feeling ostracized. i don’t feel sorry for her at all though. 😑😑😑

ouff, ok, we get it. happyyyy happppy happppppppy. fwding. ⏩⏩⏩

i am happiest for om-gauriiiiiiii, who look so genuinely happy and like they’re having funnnnnnnn. aw. my babies. 💖💖💖💖 *smooshes them* 

ooooooooooh. OOOOOOOOOOOOH. BILLU IS QUITE POSSESSIVELY AND HAQ SE MAKING A MOVE ON ANIKA. 😯😯😯

LICK THE CAKE OFF EACH OTHER, YOU IDIOTS. YOU KNOW YOU FUCKING WANT TO. 😏😏😏

i quite like this dimming lights effect in o jaana moments, to signify that the world outside the two of them ceases to exist for each other. 😌😌😌

lo aaa gayi, cake mein haddi. 😶😶😶

no wonder shivaay and gauri love each other so much. both are EXTRA AF. 🙃🙃🙃

“apni apni waali ko uthaao, aur kamre mein leke jaao!” 

dadi be progressive (and kinky) as fuckkkkkkkk. 😯😯😯

haaaaaaaaaye. my boyssssss. and their girlsssssss. 😍😍😍 

ugh, and bhavya. 🙄🙄🙄

WHAT EVEN IS THIS FAMILY?????????? 😟😟😟

pfffffffft, bewakoof toh tum teeno ho. awwal number ke. premium grade. best in the country. 🙄🙄🙄

“tum log humaara WOH bana rahe ho.” “papppu?” “haan, same thing.” *muttering* “banaaye hue ko aur kitna banana?” 

anika’s snark is what powers me through life. 🙃🙃🙃

ooooop. things got super serious super suddenly. 😶😶😶

pfffffffft, coordinated and choreographed moving. totalllllly natural and human like. 🙄🙄🙄

eeeeeeeeeee, faraqqqqqqqq games continueeeee tomorrrrrow. wet billu’s getting alll up and sexyyyyyyyyy on my girl. 😏😏😏