#walk in cold room manufacturers

[osworld9]

Walk in Cold Rooms Manufacturers

[fairuzfan]

But the other images I had was like a mass refugee camp. So basically at that point in time, two months ago, about 20,000 people had sought refuge both in the hospital and outside the hospital. And these weren’t tents. They’re still not tents. They’re makeshift shelters with bed sheets or plastic bag sheets. The ones outside sleep on the floor. They’re lucky [if] they get a carpet or a mat. There was one bathroom at the time for about 200 people that they have to share. And inside, the hallways of the hospital were also made into shelters. There was hardly any room to walk, and there’s children running around everywhere. It’s important to remember all these people were not homeless. They all had homes that were destroyed. They’re all displaced people that took shelter in the hospital.

So that’s the kind of mass chaos that I encountered initially, and then I was told that every time there’s a bomb, give it about 15 minutes and the mass casualties come. That was the other thing that at the time shocked me: What we’d been seeing livestreamed on Instagram, on social media or whatever, I actually saw myself and it was worse than I can imagine. I saw scenes that were horrific that I’d never witnessed before and I never want to see again. You have a mother walking in holding her 8, 9-year-old, skinny — because they’re all starving — boy who’s dead, he’s cold and dead and [the mother is] screaming, asking for someone to check his pulse and everybody’s busy in the mass chaos. So that was kind of my initial welcoming scene when I entered Khan Younis the first time.

{...}

What I saw — I’m an eye surgeon, an eye plastic surgeon, and so I saw the classic, what I penned “the Gaza shrapnel face,” because in an explosive scenario, you don’t know what’s coming. When there’s an explosion, you don’t go like this [cover your face], you kind of actually, in fact, open your eyes. And so shrapnel’s everywhere. It’s a well-known fact that the Israeli forces are experimenting [with] weapons in Gaza to boost their weapon manufacturing industry. Because if a weapon is battle-tested, it’s more valuable, isn’t it? It’s got a higher value. So basically they’re using these weapons, these missiles that purposely, intently create these large shrapnel fragments that go everywhere. And they cause amputations that are unusual.

Most amputations occur at the weak points, the elbow or the knee, and so they’re better tolerated. But these [shrapnel fragments] are causing mid-thigh, mid-arm amputations that are more difficult, more challenging, and also the rehabilitation afterward is also more challenging. Also these shrapnels [are] unlike a bullet wound. A bullet wound goes in and out; there’s an entry and exit point. Shrapnel stays there. So you gotta take it out. So the injuries I saw were — I mean, I saw people with their eyes blown apart. And when I was there, and this is my experience, I treated all children when I was there the first time. It was kids that [were aged] 2, 6, 9, 10, 13, 15, and 16, and 17 were the ones that I treated. And their eyes unfortunately had to be removed. They had shrapnel in their eye sockets that I had to remove and, of course, remove the eye. There’s many patients, many children who had shrapnel in both their eyes. And you can only do so much because right now, because of the aid blockade and because of the destruction of most of Gaza, there’s no equipment available to take shrapnel that’s in the eye out. And so we just leave them alone and they eventually go blind.

{...}

I was on the ground, I toured the refugee camps, I went around Rafah, I saw, and if there’s an Israeli invasion, I can’t emphasize enough how catastrophic it’s going to be. It’ll be mass killing, mass destruction, because all these figures come in, 50 dead, 100 wounded. But what people don’t realize is, being wounded is a death sentence. Being wounded in this environment with no health care system, completely collapsed, is a death sentence. And the wounded often will lose everybody, like all family members, so they have no supports, especially children, have nobody left to take care of them, not even aunts and uncles. It will be catastrophic. I don’t know what to say to the world to stop an impending invasion. You’ve got to rein this prime minister of Israel in. You got to do something to stop this stupid invasion that he still wants to do, because it’ll be catastrophic.

{...}

I had one young man, about 25 years old, he lost one eye that I took out myself. He spent about five, six, or seven years, basically spent thousands and thousands of dollars in IVF treatment because he got married young and they wanted to have a child and they couldn’t have one. So he spent years on IVF treatment and finally had a baby that was 3 months old. And there was a missile attack by Israel at his home. He lost his entire family, including his baby and his wife and his parents and family. He’s by himself, single guy. I took his one eye out, and he has nobody in this world. He just kind of walks around the tent structures, just kind of walking around with no home and trying to sleep wherever he can.

[blindmagdalena]

Center Stage in a Gilded Cage (chapter three)

18+ 3.8k. homelander x f!reader. pre-s1. stalking, kidnapping, imprisonment, forced relationship, slow burn, eventual smut. fic directory | AO3

Now that he's got you all to himself, it's clear that Homelander has no intention of letting you go. For the sake of your own survival, you have no choice but to adopt his madness and play along with his domestic fantasy.

Homelander is insane.

You don’t know how to reconcile the hero of Vought’s marketing with this man, whose very presence unnerves you. There’s something uncanny about the way he moves, speaks, even the way he smiles at you. It all feels simultaneously practiced, and yet like he’s never actually spoken one on one to another human being.

The sentiment spins in your mind like a record, the melody scratchy and discordant. It’s as though you’ve fallen into some kind of bizzaro dimension where up is down, the sky is green, and Vought’s golden hero is a delusional kidnapping maniac who premeditated your abduction to the point of filling his home with a perfectly curated wardrobe for you. Even the products in the bathroom mirror your own.

You are home.

The conviction with which he said it gives you goosebumps. In the moment you’d been numb, trapped somewhere between reality and dream. That feeling–some mixture of shock and whatever he drugged you with–lingers with you even now, like you’ll wake up from this nightmarish fantasy at any moment.

You smooth your hands down your body, now clad in unfamiliar silk that feels cool and expensive against your skin. The sleep wear fits you like a glove. It’s your favorite color. It could have been pulled straight from your own closet if not for the lack of wear and the undoubtedly exorbitant price tag. All for wearing to bed.

Bed.

Nerves flutter in your gut like caged birds. You give yourself one last lingering look in the mirror. Washed and lotioned with the menagerie of products left for you, you’re unable to stall in the bathroom any longer. You’re as “comfortable” as you’re going to get, and Homelander’s waiting for you.

The thought makes you shiver. You can still feel his hands on your wrists like phantom shackles. From the moment he snapped and grabbed you, shocking you with immeasurable inhuman strength, you knew you were going to have to proceed with extreme caution.

There’s something deeply wrong with him, and you’re terrified of what else he’s capable of.

What if you’re not the first person he’s done this to?

Worse than that thought, what if you’re not the last?

It’s a short walk back to the bedroom, the way lit by the dim spotlights that hang over the portraits that litter the walls. There’s an eeriness to the penthouse that makes you feel as though you’re walking through an empty museum after hours.

The glossy wood flooring is as cold as tile beneath your bare feet, every part of this place hard and manufactured. It feels more like an enclosure than a home.

Even more bizarre than the decor is the layout itself. You haven’t seen the whole place yet–he had insisted a tour was for daylight hours–but rounding the corner from the living room takes you to an open alcove that serves as his bedroom.

You hesitate in the open hall, struck by the sight of yourself reflected a dozen times over in the mirrors that make up his bedroom walls and ceiling, and Homelander himself already tucked into bed, his torso bare.

Your stomach flips. He smiles at you, beckoning you with a nod towards the empty side of the bed. Anxiety crawls up your spine like an insect with every step you take towards the bed, worsened by the open anticipation he watches you with. It goes against your every instinct to move closer to him.

Just as you reach the bed, he flips the blanket down for you. You tense, gaze dipping, but you’re relieved to find that he is not entirely nude.

He’s wearing sleep pants with a thin band that nicely hugs the sharp jut of his hip, following the slight curve of his stomach. He’s leaner than the chiseled exaggeration of his suit implies, but his strength is no illusion. His hand felt like a steel vice around your wrist, his pull like being guided by a freight train. 

Homelander clears his throat and your eyes snap back up to his. You realize all at once you’ve been standing there in silence staring for far too long at his half-exposed body. Embarrassment hits in a hot rush and you mumble some kind of half formed apology, busying yourself with slipping into the bed, lingering at the edge.

“Don’t apologize,” he says, watching you settle on your back and tug the blanket over yourself.

“Like what you see?” he asks, smiling crookedly. Though he claims he has no intention of eating you, you wouldn’t know it by the look in his eyes. He has all the intensity of a bird of prey watching a rabbit skitter through an open field.

Not knowing how to respond, you stare wordlessly at him. You notice the asymmetry of his mouth for the first time, how it curves on one side.

Christ, why can’t you stop staring at him like this? Every time you try to formulate a response–something, anything–the words get jumbled up in your throat, threatening to choke you.

At a loss, you roll onto your side, putting your back to him and screwing your eyes shut. The bed dips suddenly and an arm slipping around your waist startles you into a jerk, your body going tense.

“Jeeze, so jumpy,” he laughs, breath hot on the nape of your neck. He pulls your body flush against his, your soft curves fitting seamlessly against his wrought iron edges.

His strength is impossible to ignore, inhuman and titanous. You can feel it in every part of him, but nowhere more keenly than in the flex of his arm as it encircles you, pinning you against him.

He sighs into the crook of your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

“I’ve really been looking forward to this,” he murmurs, his words nearly beneath the thunderous racket of your own heart in your ears. Your body is awash in heat, and not just from the flush rolling through you. He’s as hot as a furnace at your back, as if his skin conducts heat just as well as the steel he feels made from.

If there was any doubt before that you had no choice but to yield to him, it’s evaporated now. He could crush you without so much as a second thought if he decides you don’t fit whatever elaborate fantasy he’s created in his mind. He could make you disappear.

“Hey,” he says softly, nudging the shell of your ear with his nose. “I’m gonna take good care of you, okay?”

The pressure of a sob swells up in your throat, the reality of your situation folding in on you with the weight of the world, but you choke it back. Hesitantly, you place your hand over his forearm and squeeze, hoping it will be enough of an answer to appease him.

You feel his smile in the way he caresses the sensitive flesh of your neck with his mouth. In turn, he squeezes you against his chest like a child would his new favorite toy, covetous and possessive. It makes you wonder what sort of boy he’d been: was he the sort to be precious with his toys, or was he the sort who wore them threadbare before looking for the next new and shiny thing?

“‘Atta girl.”

Although sleep doesn’t come easily, it does at least come eventually. The room is dark, but not pitch black, and the ambient sounds of high altitude winds spilling in from his open windows are surprisingly soothing, better than the scratchy ocean recordings you usually drift to.

The exhaustion you experience in the aftermath of your abduction overtakes you, pitching you into a deep slumber. You spend the night dreaming a tumultuous mix of reality and nightmare, some aspects exaggerated while others play out perfectly as they were. The truth of your situation is nightmarish enough without any theatrics from your imagination. 

Waking up in Homelander’s bed for the second time is no less disorienting than it was the first time.

Last night returns to you in bits and pieces, but nothing grounds you in reality as swiftly as the heavy arm looped around your waist, and the steady warm breaths wafting over the back of your neck, giving you goosebumps. His other arm is stretched out under your pillow, his hand resting palm up by the edge of it.

Is he asleep…?

“G’morning,” Homelander purrs, giving a firm squeeze around your middle.

Not asleep, which leaves you wondering how long he’s been awake, assuming the man actually does sleep. There’s been no lack of speculation towards how human supes really are or aren’t, whether they need to eat or rest the way regular humans do.

Especially those as powerful as Homelander.

The sleepy slur and fray of his voice gives you hope that he does, though. On top of everything else, it would be too unsettling a horror to learn that he doesn’t.

“Morning,” you give back after a beat, hating how meek your voice is. The tension in your body makes everything sound tight and forced. You see his fingers flex just before he curls his arm inward, hand clutching your shoulder to embrace you.

“I don’t know about you,” he says in your ear, lips brushing the shell of it as he speaks. “But that was the best damn night of sleep I’ve ever had.”

That solves that, you suppose.

The silence that follows makes you realize he was prompting you.

“Same.” The lie hitches in your throat like a hiccup.

Another pause, and then Homelander is shifting, uncoiling his arms from around you and lifting up on his side. With a hand on your shoulder he turns you on to your back, bringing you to face him.

You meet his gaze, but something about the look in his eyes turns your gut cold. There’s no softness in the lines of his face, not even thinning tethers of patience. There’s simply… nothing.

“Don’t ever lie to me,” he says, his voice set low and strangely hollow. “You’re free to do whatever you want. Except for that. Understand?”

Your throat clicks on a dry swallow. The weight of his stare makes it hard to breathe. You nod.

“Tell me you understand,” he says slowly, each perfectly annunciated word dripping with malice. There’s no pleading in his voice the way there had been last night. He’s composed entirely of cold and hard lines that make you feel caged, the bars shrinking around you.

“I understand,” you choke out.

Just like that, the lines at the corners of his eyes soften, crinkling with his smile. He leans in to press a chaste kiss to your forehead. The abruptness of the shift is enough to give you whiplash, leaving you dazed. For just a moment, he was another person entirely.

“That’s my girl,” he says, seeming to savor every word on his tongue. Dumbstruck, you watch him climb out of bed, swinging his arms in a slow stretch.

“Uhm,” you start, clearing your voice of the faint tremor in it. “I should, uh… Call someone. Work. They’re going to be worried if–”

“Already taken care of,” he cuts in, lifting his suit from the suit rack next to the bed. Your eyes dart to the crumpled one he shed the night before, still in a pile.

How many of those does he have?

“Everyone you know is under the impression that you had a mild stress-induced nervous breakdown, and are currently on an impromptu vacation in Europe, totally off the grid,” he says with a smile, sliding his hand smoothly through the air.

You pale. Whenever work came to be too much, you’ve joked about disappearing like that, but would anyone actually believe you have? You suddenly regret the plethora of hyperbolic existential posts you’ve made.

“Oh,” is all you manage to say, feeling sick.

Homelander, on the other hand, looks as bright as the morning sun. “So! Who’s ready for breakfast?”

Regardless of whether or not cooking is enjoyable, it’s always a reliable routine. Breakfast perhaps most of all. Eggs, toast, bacon and whatever fruit is in season. You find all these things and more in dizzying variety and proportion in Homelander’s lavish kitchen.

The eggs are large and brown, the bacon wrapped in butcher's paper rather than plastic, and cut in thick strips. The artisanal loaf of bread has a perfectly crisp golden crust, soft on the inside as you slice it. It’s everything you know, but elevated.

The opulence feels weighted. It makes you wonder how you could ever be expected to pay for any of this. How you could be worth any of this. Every ounce of silky butter you swipe over the piece of artisan toast in your hand feels like another smattering of grave soil peppering you from above, burying you deeper than you already are.

You don’t owe him for any of this. You didn’t ask for it. Regardless, you lick an excess smear of jam from your thumb–the color of it as red and vibrant as fresh blood–and all at once you are Persephone taking the pomegranate seeds between her lips. There is a terrible feeling of complicitness in this, despite that you’re only trying to survive.

Homelander lurks behind you while you cook, observing from a slight distance with an idyllic smile, his hands clasped behind his back. While you’re still wearing your pajamas, he’s wearing his hero suit again, the bulk of it returning to him his larger than life silhouette.

The silence he observes you in is unnerving, making everything else too loud in comparison. It would be nice if he’d at least sit. Instead, you’re keenly aware of the oppressive weight of his expectant gaze the entire time you cook.

“Looks delicious,” he says, his voice suddenly so close that you startle, the butterknife slipping from your hand and clattering on the marble countertop. His gloved hands cup your elbows and squeeze, soothing and overly familiar. “Oops-a-daisy,” he laughs, as if you’re just clumsy. His hands stroke slowly up and down your arms.

You snatch the knife up from the countertop and dutifully wipe away the jam splatter with a dishtowel. “I hope you like it,” you say distractedly, heart racing.

“How could I not?” he asks in that same low, pleased tone. He gives your arms an excited little shimmy before releasing them, reaching around either side of you to grab each plate. You feel his chest against your back, where he lingers just a second too long. “You made it just for me, after all.”

He moves away from you, taking the plates with him to the small round table near the floor to ceiling windows. The view from his penthouse is stunning–overlooking the entire city, all the way out to the waterfront–but it’s also dizzying. It unsettles your stomach to sit so close to the window, the size of them making it feel as though there’s nothing between you and a hundred story fall.

“You’re not scared of heights, are you?” He asks, settling down across from you.

You look from the window to him. He wastes no time splaying a cloth napkin in his lap and picking up his utensils, though he never takes his eyes off of you. You’re not sure he ever does. “Uh…Not particularly. I just don’t think I’ve ever been up so high,” you say, draping your own napkin similarly in your lap. Never has breakfast felt like such a formal affair.

“You’ll get used to it,” he says confidently, jabbing his knife into the yolk of his egg to spread over his buttered toast. “I’ll take you flying again. You’ll be conscious this time around,” he chuckles, flipping a piece of bacon on top as well.

Your gut tightens, toast paused halfway to your parted lips. You gawk at him. It’s difficult to comprehend how someone can be so beyond reproach, so intensely cavalier about something like drugging you into unconsciousness and kidnapping you.

I saved you. That his voice already lives in your mind–correcting you–is sickening in and of itself. Your already tenuous appetite vanishes, but you take a bite of the toast out of spite. The jam’s farm fresh sweetness is tart, though it’s offset perfectly by the savory sea salt richness of the butter. 

It’s as exquisite as it is repulsive.

A crisp snap brings your attention abruptly back to Homelander, whose hand is still poised in the air, his thumb and middle finger pressed together. His hand falls away once he has your attention, his smile returning. “That good, huh? Looked like you went a million miles away.”

If only, you seethe, taking another bite of the toast. You use the moment to chew, swallowing the anger over being snapped at alongside your mouthful of food.

“It’s delicious,” you say, curating your words carefully. Don’t ever lie to me, his words echo again, helping you to shape a mental survival guide. Feeling his eyes on you, you meet them. His smile widens a touch, though you don’t think it quite reaches his eyes. He’s appraising you like one might an exhibit at a museum.

Glancing down at his plate, you notice he hasn’t really eaten his breakfast so much as he’s toyed with it. It’s all just cut apart, yellow egg yolk oozing slowly across the pristine white plate. “Is there something wrong with yours?” you ask with a lurch of anxiety. He’s drugged you once already.

“Not at all,” he beams with clean white teeth, hands resting in loose fists on either side of his plate. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

The strange earnestness of the compliment stuns you. “Thank you,” you say uneasily, still not convinced there wasn’t something in the jam, or maybe the butter.

His smile broadens and this time it reaches all the way up, crinkling his eyes at their outer corners. There’s a sort of pride in his expression that makes you feel like a dog that’s finally learned the trick he’s been trying to teach you. 

“Whelp,” he sighs, clapping his hands together as he stands. “As much as I hate to go, duty calls,” he says, sliding his chair back beneath the table. Rounding it, he holds his hand out to you. “Walk me out?” he asks, his smile gleaming with predator charm. You only hesitate briefly before slipping your hand into his, reminding yourself to choose your battles wisely.

He lifts you to your feet with such ease it makes your stomach flip, breath hitching in your throat. He doesn’t let go of your hand, choosing to keep it snug within his grasp as he walks you through the decorated halls of his penthouse. There’s scarcely a space untouched by decor, making even these spacious corridors feel claustrophobic, dozens of carved and painted eyes leering at you as you pass.

The tour of the penthouse had been brief, awkward. He hadn’t especially known what to say about each room, giving you more facts about the artwork than anything. The lack of personal effects only make the place feel even more like a museum than it had before.

The only pictures of him were Vought promotional material. Not a single photo of him outside of his suit. No trace of family or childhood. Just The Homelander.

He holds your hand all the way up to a set of double doors made from dark wood, where he stops and turns to face you. “Thanks for breakfast,” he says with a picture perfect pearly white smile. Not a speck of food to be found. Uncomfortable with how fixated you’ve become on the condition of his teeth, you force your attention back on his eyes and nod.

“You’re welcome.”

He leans closer, and you have to fight the urge to lean back.

“Will you kiss me goodbye?”

You blink, the question striking you in the same way his compliment had, but for a different reason. In the wake of asking, his smile has lost that razor sharp edge it usually carries. Like his eyes, it’s softer now. More boyish. There’s a level of nervous apprehension in it that’s a stark contrast from his usual smugness. Yet again it hardly feels like you’re even looking at the same person.

Swallowing dryly, you bring your hand to the underside of his strong jaw. His skin is warm under your fingers, and he leans readily into your touch. You can feel the tension in the muscle beneath his cleanly shaven face as you turn it away, simultaneously moving in to press your lips to his cheek.

When you pull away, he’s staring sidelong at you, his face still turned away, his thin lips parted. For a beat, you think he’s going to be upset, but you realize quickly that the heat you see rushing to his cheeks isn’t anger. It’s a blush. Of all the ways you expected him to react, bashful was not among them.

“Okie-dokie,” he says, suddenly sheepish, and the tension in your shoulders drains as he relinquishes your other hand, busying himself with slipping off one of his gloves. “Should be home around 4:00, but I might be able to squeeze out closer to 3:00,” he says, tossing you a conspiratory little wink. As if you should be as excited as he is at the thought.

You watch him reach for a black plate next to the door handle, which he slides up to reveal a sleek number pad with a glowing blue circle, which he presses his thumb to. The circle turns green, and you hear a mechanism unlatch. Your stomach drops. All at once you understand why he brought you all the way to the door. He wanted you to see this.

“Pretty nifty, huh?” he asks, sliding his glove back on. “State of the art,” he says with a grin, pulling the door open. Over his shoulder, you see nothing but a long, long hall and a distant elevator at the end of it. You consider screaming down it to see if anyone might hear you, but the noise gets stuck in your throat. Even if they heard you, no one would reach you in time.

Homelander steps through the threshold, lingering in the doorway, leaning partially inside. “Don’t you worry,” he says, taking in the stricken expression you wear. He looks pleased with himself. “You’ll be perfectly safe. No way anyone’s getting in or out–aside from me, that is.”

He offers a few parting words, but they distort into unintelligible static. The door closes. That green circle turns blue, and the locking mechanism echoes in your ears like the slam of a prison gate. Turning around, you stare down the lengthy corridor you came from, your ears buzzing with the eerie quietness of the penthouse.

I need to get the fuck out of here.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Change of Heart - 1 | Bucky

Character: Bucky x Female! Reader

Theme: Angst, tragedy, romance.

Summary: The interviewer asked her a provocative question:

“If you were offered a million dollars, would you leave your partner?”

Without hesitation, she replied with a smirk, “Give me one dollar, and I’ll leave him this second.”

True to her word, she walked away, leaving the man stunned and searching for answers. Now, he’s desperately trying to find her, grappling with the haunting question—why would she leave him so easily?

And is there more to her departure than a single dollar could ever explain?

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , -

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

By the way, I publish my book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing on Kindle.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Time changes everything. Interviews used to take place indoors, in studios, or in booked hotel rooms. The questions were serious—focused on economics, politics, or other weighty topics. Back then, only experts or public figures were deemed worthy of being interviewed.

But now, thanks to social media, interviews can happen anywhere. They’re no longer the domain of reporters or TV stations. Instead, anyone with a phone, a camera, and a microphone can conduct an impromptu interview in random places.

These spontaneous interviews often gain far more attention than their polished, scripted counterparts on TV. On the streets, people are asked silly, lighthearted questions, and their candid, often hilarious answers resonate more with viewers. They feel authentic and relatable, unlike the carefully curated responses of experts.

Some people never imagine their offhand comments will make them go viral. Take the girl who became famous overnight for her absurd response to a random question—she jokingly told someone to spit. It was ridiculous, but human nature is unpredictable. The absurdity drew millions of viewers, and just like that, she became an internet sensation.

Today, another viral moment is taking over the internet. The current trend? A simple, loaded question:

“If you were offered 1 million dollars, would you leave your partner?”

Many people, interviewed alongside their partners, responded with sweet or heartfelt answers. But one woman gave a response that stopped everyone in their tracks:

“Give me 1 dollar. I’ll leave him this second.”

And the interviewer handed her the one dollar.

Her comment sparked chaos online. Most people laughed, seeing it as a joke and sharing it for its sheer absurdity:

“LMAO, this girl is my spirit animal!”

“She’s not wrong, though. 😂 Relationships are overrated!”

“The audacity! 😂😂😂”

However, not everyone found it funny:

“This is what’s wrong with society—no loyalty anymore.”

“Imagine being her partner and seeing this. Yikes.”

“If this is how people think these days, I’ll stay single forever.”

But there was one man who didn’t find it amusing at all.

He replayed the video, his expression unreadable, though the tension in his jaw betrayed his anger. The room was silent except for the faint hum of his phone’s speaker. His piercing gaze flicked to the woman sitting across from him as the video looped again.

Bucky Barnes hadn’t paid attention to what was happening online. As the CEO of the Lena Group, a leader in car and chip manufacturing, his schedule left little time for distractions. It wasn’t until his secretary and his mother mentioned the viral uproar that he decided to investigate.

Watching the clip now, he felt a surge of disbelief. Shock. Anger. He had worked tirelessly to build his empire, and yet here she was, casually dismissing him with a joke to a stranger.

“So,” he said, his voice cold as he set the phone down on the table, “you think I’m worth one dollar?”

She didn’t flinch under his icy glare. Instead, she calmly lifted her teacup, taking a slow sip before setting it back down. Her movements were measured, deliberate, as if his words carried no weight.

Meeting his gaze, she tilted her head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “Now that I think about it,” she said, her tone casual, “70% discount sounds fair.”

His grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles turning white. “What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded, leaning forward, his voice sharper now.

Her expression didn’t waver. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m tired, Bucky. I’ve had enough.”

The room felt heavier, the unspoken words between them thickening the air.

His jaw clenched as he let out a heavy sigh. “You’ve got to be joking.”

His eyes searched your face for any hint of humor, anything to suggest you didn’t mean it. But there was none. Only calm resolve.

He looked at you—the woman he had married two years ago. The truth was, this wasn’t an ordinary marriage. It was what people called a contract marriage. But to Bucky, it was just business. Marriages forged to benefit two businesses had existed for ages, after all.

The so-called marriage contract was simply a guideline—a formal agreement to ensure both parties understood the terms, what was acceptable and what wasn’t. Many people chose contract durations of three or six years before going their separate ways. But Bucky had kept it simpler: a one-year contract, renewable if his wife agreed.

The reason he opted for this arrangement was to avoid the casualties of love. He’d seen it firsthand—his parents, who had started with love, had eventually torn each other apart, not literally, but close enough to leave scars on everyone involved. It was enough to make Bucky swear off traditional marriage altogether.

But his grandfather had other plans. “If you don’t marry, you’ll never inherit the company,” his grandfather had declared, determined to ensure his legacy stayed within the family. Having watched his son—a serial adulterer—destroy the family’s reputation, the old man had become obsessed with the idea of keeping his grandson grounded.

Bucky, however, had no interest in marriage. He had no desire for emotional entanglements or the drama that came with them. Yet his grandfather’s ultimatum left him with no choice. If he wanted to lead the company, he had to marry.

That was when he turned to a matchmaker agency, one well-known among his wealthy peers. It wasn’t cheap, but the agency had stellar testimonials, and they assured him they could find the perfect partner.

And they did.

That’s where he met you. You, too, were looking for something unconventional. You weren’t interested in traditional marriage and came from a good family background, which made introducing you to his parents remarkably easy. Despite his parents’ separation, you navigated the introductions with grace, impressing his mother and, surprisingly, his father.

The wedding happened quickly. You were the ideal partner—easygoing, understanding, and undemanding. When the first year of the contract ended, Bucky asked if you wanted to continue. You had simply smiled and said, “Yes.”

To him, that was enough.

Two years had passed since then, and he thought everything was fine. You never complained, never asked for anything more than the life you had agreed upon. He thought you were content. He thought you were okay.

But now, standing before you on the last day of the contract, he couldn’t reconcile the image he had of your quiet satisfaction with your answer in that viral video.

He stared at you, confused and hurt. “Why did you say it?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “Why give that answer? I thought everything was fine.”

You didn’t flinch. Instead, you glanced at your watch, casually checking the time. “I’m not,” you said, your voice calm, almost detached. “At 12 a.m., our marriage contract will be over. By tomorrow morning, I won’t be here.”

His mouth opened as if to protest, but no words came out. He reached for the black tea you had placed in front of him earlier, taking a sip. It had gone lukewarm—neither hot nor cold, a temperature he despised. It mirrored the hollow, uncomfortable feeling gnawing at his chest.

Finally, he set the cup down with a dull clink. “We’ll talk tomorrow,” he said, his voice firmer now, though tinged with weariness.

You said nothing in return, merely turned and walked away.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

The next morning, when he woke up, sunlight was already streaming through the curtains. His eyes flicked to the clock on his nightstand—10 a.m. He sat up abruptly, his head spinning slightly from the sudden movement.

He rarely ever slept this late. For years, he had trained himself to wake by 5 a.m., no matter how little sleep he’d had the night before. Even on his most exhausting days, he never overslept. At most, he might sleep in until 6 or 7 a.m., but 10? Never.

Rubbing his temples, he tried to piece it together. What had made him sleep like this? He thought back to the night before, to your calm words, to the tea…

His hands froze mid-motion. The tea.

A surge of realization hit him. You drugged him.

He swung his legs out of bed, his movements sharp and full of urgency. Throwing on a robe, he stormed out of the bedroom, his voice cutting through the quiet house. “Where is she?”

The housemaid appeared, her expression hesitant and unsure. “She left, sir. Early this morning.”

His jaw tightened as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “And she didn’t say anything? Not a word?”

The maid paused, then held out a small item. “She left this, sir.”

He grabbed the velvet box from her hand, his chest tightening as he opened it. His breath caught at the sight of your wedding ring nestled inside.

For two years, he had worn his own wedding ring daily, thinking of it as nothing more than a piece of jewelry. But now, staring at your ring, it felt heavier than it should, as though it carried the weight of your departure.

Inside the ring box, you left the same crumpled dollar bill. It sat there like a cruel punchline, mocking everything he thought both of you had built together—a final, silent reminder of just how little she thought he was worth.

He set the box down on the table, his eyes scanning the room. When they landed on the wardrobe, he froze. It was still full. You hadn’t taken a single thing.

His mind raced. Where could you have gone? How did you vanish so quickly?

He reached for his phone, dialing his security team with shaky fingers. After two rings, someone picked up.

“Where is she?” he barked, his voice tight with frustration, the tension unmistakable.

The security officer on the other end hesitated. “Mrs. told us… madam wanted to meet her.”

His brows furrowed. “My mother?”

“Yes, sir. She’s in another state.”

That meant only one thing. You had gone to the airport.

“Did she take the private jet or a commercial plane?” he demanded.

“Commercial, sir. It was a last-minute trip, and we hadn’t prepared the jet.”

Bucky’s grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles whitening. His jaw clenched as frustration surged within him. He wanted to scream, to lash out at the sheer incompetence of his team. You fucking idiot. The words pounded in his mind, but he bit them back, forcing himself to stay composed.

“Who bought the ticket?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

“It was Mrs. who purchased the ticket herself.”

Bucky exhaled sharply through his nose, his patience wearing thin. He wanted nothing more than to explode, but he kept his voice steady. “Find out where she went.” Without waiting for a response, he ended the call.

Immediately, he dialed his mother. The line connected after a single ring.

“Hello.”

“I’m glad you called,” she said briskly. “Do you know what’s going on right now?”

His grip on the phone tightened. “Did you ask her to meet you?”

“Me? No, I—”

He ended the call before she could finish. That ruled out her involvement.

His mind raced as he considered the possibilities. If you had boarded a plane, he could easily track your destination. But the other option loomed: that the airport was a decoy. You had used his mother’s name as an excuse, ensuring your movements would go undetected by his security team, who clearly hadn’t been following you as closely as they did him.

Bucky’s phone buzzed. The confirmation from his team came through, and the news made his blood boil.

“Mrs. bought a plane ticket but didn’t get on the plane,” the head of security reported.

“Did you check the surveillance cameras?” he snapped.

“Yes, sir. We’ve reviewed the footage. There’s a woman with a similar appearance to madam who rented a car at the airport.”

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose, his frustration mounting. He sucked in a breath, exhaling slowly to keep his temper in check. So, it’s option two. You’re still in the same state.

“Great,” he muttered under his breath, pacing the room. He could feel the tension radiating through his body. “At least you didn’t go far.”

Without wasting another second, he barked into the phone, “Chase the car. Check every schedule she might have left behind, and contact her friends. I want updates—fast.”

Ending the call, he threw the phone onto his desk with a sharp clatter. Running a hand through his hair, he leaned against the desk, staring out the window as the weight of the situation pressed down on him. For someone who always had the upper hand, this was new territory. And he hated it.

Bucky sat in his office chair, staring at the empty ring box on his desk. His mind swirled with unanswered questions. Why had you suddenly left without a word? Both of you had been such a good team—practical, efficient, and untroubled by the complications that plagued most marriages. At least, that’s what he thought.

If he could, he would turn back time and relive the past few months, examining every moment you’d spent together. Had he missed something? Made a mistake? Or had something happened that he was completely unaware of? The uncertainty gnawed at him, a feeling he hadn’t experienced in years.

His phone buzzed, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“We found her. But…”

“What?!” he barked, standing abruptly.

“It’s not Mrs.,” the security team clarified hesitantly.

A chill ran down his spine. “Then who is it?”

“It’s her friend, sir.”

His stomach tightened, and for the first time in years, Bucky felt a flicker of fear. He thought he was closing in, that you were still within his reach. But now, you were out of his watch, slipping further away with every passing second.

“Secure her. I’m going to meet her,” he ordered, his voice cold and sharp.

“Yes, sir.”

"Prepare the car," Bucky ordered, his voice cold and demanding.

"But, sir, you have a meeting at 2 p.m", his assistant replied, hesitant.

Bucky shot him a sharp glare, his jaw tightening.

The assistant quicklu nodded. "I'll reschedule it, sir," he muttered avoiding Bucky's piercing gaze.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Minutes later, Bucky arrived at a quiet café where Grace was waiting under the watchful eye of his security team. The moment he saw her, he recognized her immediately—your friend, the one who had attended your wedding. Grace was the only person you had trusted with the details of this marriage contract.

Bucky approached the table, his expression unreadable, but his clenched fists betrayed the storm brewing inside him.

“Where is she?” His voice was steady, but there was an edge of desperation he couldn’t fully mask.

Grace avoided his gaze, staring down at the steaming cup of coffee in front of her.

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “I could raise my voice at you, but I won’t. Grace, please. Tell me where she is.”

Grace finally looked up, her expression guarded. “As far as I know, last night was the last day of your marriage. Today, she’s a free woman.”

Her words hit him harder than he expected, and for a moment, Bucky’s mask slipped. He stared at her, bewildered, the weight of everything sinking in. What had he done to make you leave? Had he overlooked something so significant? And why did Grace seem to despise him so much?

Before he could respond, his phone buzzed again. He stepped aside to take the call, his jaw tightening as he listened.

“Sir, we’ve reviewed additional footage. Mrs. used Grace’s ID to purchase another ticket. She’s already on the plane.”

Bucky’s grip on the phone tightened. His gaze snapped back to Grace, who was now watching him warily.

“Grace,” he began, his voice sharper this time. “I’m asking you again. Where is she?”

Grace shook her head, her tone calm but firm. “I don’t know.”

His frustration boiled over. He leaned forward, his palms flat on the table as he stared her down. “Don’t lie to me, Grace.”

She didn’t flinch. “I’m not lying. You don’t know anything about her.”

Her words struck a nerve, leaving him momentarily speechless. He straightened, trying to collect himself, but his mind was racing. Don’t know anything about her? He hated the implication.

“She trusted you,” he said, his voice low. “You were the only one who knew about the arrangement, the only one she confided in.”

“And that’s why I won’t betray her trust now,” Grace replied evenly.

Author Note: Do you found this interesting? Would you like it to be continued?

[redrose10]

Part 2 of three… Thank you for all the comments and messages!

CEO Yoongi x Female Barista/College Student Reader

Title: Cold Brewed Love

Summary: When you begged the owner of Jin’s Java House to hire more employees you didn’t mean for him to stick you with the cold, rude, arrogant CEO Min Yoongi. Over time something begins to brew between you both and you end up forced to make decisions way above the pay grade of a cafe barista.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, hints of smut(nothing explicit), Yoongi is mean but we all know he’ll turn fluffy later, violence, kidnapping, mention of a gun, drug references, gang activity, murder, overdose

Word Count: 3,824

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You woke up confused and alone in a room you didn’t recognize. Your throat hurt, but your head hurt worse. You looked around trying to make out your surroundings to get some idea of where you were. The room was empty except for an armchair in the corner with a small side table next to it. The only light in the room came from a small space between the curtains of what you assumed was a window. It seemed like you had been out for quite some time judging by the amount of sunlight.

You tried to stand up, but you felt too weak immediately falling to the ground. You tried once again, but froze when you heard the door handle begin to jiggle. The door swung open and a light was turned on making you squint from the change in brightness.

“Good morning Y/N, good to see you’re finally awake. Can I get you something to eat or maybe a coffee?”, a deep unfamiliar voice spoke.

“Who are you and how the fuck do you know my name?”, you spat not in the mood for pleasantries.

The man walked in and took a seat in the chair across the room. You took noticed of his expensive looking suit that was tailored to fit him perfectly. His hair was slicked back. A strong cologne followed after him. He reminded you a lot of Yoongi.

“Is that anyway to speak to the man that saved your life and took you away from that monster?”, he said while lighting a cigar.

You scoffed, “You saved my life? My life was just fine until you kidnapped me and threw me in this room.”

“Oh dear Y/N. You really are too good and naive for Yoongi.”, the man chuckled.

The mention of Yoongi made your breath hitch.

“How do you know Yoongi?”

“Well Y/N…I am glad you asked. You see me and Yoongi go way back. We met when we were just children. We used to be very good friends, actually like brothers. We ran a little side business together. The largest drug manufacturing and distribution organization since the 80’s, you know… nothing too extreme. Then one day Yoongi’s parents decided to finally give him the reigns to control the business and suddenly he didn’t need me or our organization any more. I agreed to let him walk away because he was my brother and I loved him as such. I wanted him to have a good life either way.”

The man paused to take a long draw of his cigar before continuing, “But it turns out that wasn’t good enough for Yoongi. He was selfish. He wanted to take everything we had worked for while also making sure his past life would never get out to the public. He lied to me. He deceived me because he knew I trusted him. He took all of our assets, every cent. He destroyed any evidence that could be linked to him. And then to top it all off he went to the police to get the whole operation shut down to make sure this could never come back on him. But..unfortunately for him I’ve been able to build back most of what we had even though it’s nowhere near what we once had. It took a lot of time and cost me a lot of money and many of my men all while I’ve had to watch him live the life of luxury in his comfy office, going to galas, being praised and awed by strangers around the world that don’t know how evil he really is behind the facade of expensive suits and sultry looks. I vowed that I would get my revenge against him and make him pay for what he did to me…to us. I was starting to loose hope that I would ever get my chance.”

The man suddenly stood up and took a few long strides to kneel down in front of you. You pushed yourself back against the wall as far as you could while trying to conceal your whimpers.

The man poked his finger against your forehead, “And then I saw the photos of your little date. I could see it in his eyes…just how in love with you he is. I knew this wasn’t some random hookup like the others. And I knew that my time had finally come. Min Yoongi took everything from me and now I will take everything from him.”

“So what are you going to do? Just kill me to get back at him?”, you scoffed.

“Oh no no no Y/N. Not yet at least. I’m going to have some fun first. I want him to suffer for a while. I want him to worry about you until he’s sick to his stomach. For him to know your pain is all his fault. Then I want to kill him.”

You watched as the man walked over to the door before he turned to look back at you, “At the end of the day Yoongi doesn’t care about anyone or anything except himself, his image, and his money. You’re going to learn real soon about the real Min Yoongi.” The man stood up and left you speechless as you watched the door slam shut behind him.

“Fuck fuck fuck”, Yoongi chanted as he drove around trying to figure out his next move. He knew he never should’ve asked you out. He scolded himself for being weak for you.

He thought back to the first time he saw you and how he developed an immediate crush on you. Something he’d never experienced before. He saw you behind the counter of the coffee shop. You were definitely new. You kept eyeing him before quickly turning away every time he’d try and make eye contact with you. He knew you liked him. He wasn’t stupid.

Unfortunately he liked you too. Your cheeks flushed from nervousness and the heat of running around in behind the counter. Your hair wet from sweat and plastered to your forehead. You bit your lip in concentration as you poured the coffee. You looked so cute to him and he wanted to get to know you. To date you and make you his.

Then you shakily handed him his coffee only to knock it down on the counter spilling all over his favorite custom made shoes. Sure he had three other pairs so it really wasn’t a big deal, but he took it as the opportunity to scold you hoping to make you hate him. Selfishly hoping it would keep you away from him so he wouldn’t fall for you even more.

But it didn’t work as he had hoped and he quickly fell more madly in love with you every time he saw you. Then his parents made him get a job at Jin’s Java House. He knew it was a bad idea from the start. He tried to argue with them, pleaded for another option but to no avail. He thought he was strong enough. He started off trying to be rude while working together to make you hate him even more then he already knew you did, but it only made him feel guilty and left him wanting to make it up to you any way he could.

Then he tried distracting himself with other women, sometimes as close even ten minutes before he came down for his shift at the coffee shop with you. But even when his secretary was topless and moaning underneath him as he thrusted into her on his office couch all he could think about was you and your beautiful smile and how he wished it was you below him instead. As he was burrowed deep inside someone else he fantasized about how he would take his time and do everything possible to pleasure you until it was you screaming his name over and over. He knew it was a lost cause at that point because he was a man in love. And now here he was driving around the city while you were God knows where because of him and his weaknesses.

Yoongi regretted his past life. He wasn’t proud of what he did. He had gotten in a little trouble at school so his parents had told him he was a failure and they would sell the company before allowing him to take control. He felt hurt and useless and desperate to prove them wrong.

So as a teenager he turned to crime. Him and his best friend started dealing drugs. It started small with just some weed or pills here and there to other friends and their acquaintances. Then it got bigger and bigger until next the thing he knew they were moving thousands of kilos of various drugs every year worth hundreds of millions of dollars. They had bases in Seoul, LA, New York, Tijuana, London, Rio, Moscow, and Beijing as well as dozens of smaller ones he couldn’t even remember any more. Money was rolling in like he’d never seen even though he already grew up wealthy. He had a new woman every night and said goodbye to them before the morning with no strings attached. He was on top of the world and the best part was he was doing it all with his best friend.

Then he got a call. His dads health was deteriorating. The generational family company was falling apart. His mom was coping by drinking and popping pills, probably from his own supply unbeknownst to her. They were proud of him for becoming so successful in his “pharmaceutical business”, a lie he told when people started questioning his job or where his money came from. His parents had changed their minds and wanted him to take over the company. Become the ceo and bring profitability and success back to the family name and business.

At first Yoongi told them to fuck off. He wasn’t going to give up what he had worked hard for after they tossed him aside like he wasn’t their own flesh and blood.

Then days later he got another call from one of the few people in the world that he respected, his grandmother. She asked Yoongi to take over the company that her and his grandfather had fought so hard to build and turn into an empire. She didn’t want to see it given to someone outside of the family or worse have it shut down completely.

Yoongi tried to politely decline, but then solemnly she begged him. She begged him to take over not only to save the company, but so that he could escape his life of crime before he ended up in prison or worse. She cried reminiscing about how many times she stayed up all night worried about him and what he was doing out in the world. How every phone call made her heart skip a beat fearing the worst. How she saw families being torn apart thanks to him and his business’s product. She begged him, even referring to him as her little dumpling, a nickname she had often used for him growing up that he hadn’t heard in years.

Yoongi didn’t ask how she knew about his secret life. He didn’t want to know to be honest, but he knew he didn’t want to be the reason for her tears any longer. So he called his parents the next day to accept the position.

His friend had been kind and understanding, offering to let Yoongi just walk away from everything and leave him in charge.

At first that was fine. Then one night on his way home he found out that his neighbors daughter overdosed. She was just sixteen. A star student and respected ballerina already being scouted by some of the biggest dance companies from all over the world. Yoongi knew the drugs were from his prior organization. There were no others around at the time.

He watched the girls parents standing in the pouring rain until their knees gave out and they hit the concrete and sobbed as the stretcher carrying their daughter was wheeled into the back of a waiting van. After that night his grandmothers voice started playing over and over in his head often keeping him up along with the screams of the parents he heard that night.

Yoongi decided he wanted to erase that part of his life like it never happened.

Because he was still trusted by his friend he had access to the bank accounts which he wiped clean. He destroyed every document he could find that would tie him to the organization. Anonymously he contacted police in every city he could think of and helped them to track down all of their operations getting them all shut down. Multiple people were arrested and a few even killed. He did his best to convince himself that their blood was not on his hands.

And when the few that were arrested tried to snitch and implicate Yoongi there was no significant evidence and the little the police could find was quickly swept under the rug thanks to a little cash swung their way.

Yoongi was able to walk away without anyone knowing of his past life. His friend left to pick up the pieces of a once great empire. And now here Yoongi was paying the price for something he thought was long behind him and could no longer keep him from happiness.

You walked around the room as you looked for an escape. The window had bars around it. Of course the door was securely locked. There was nowhere to go. You didn’t have your phone any longer. You resigned to taking a seat back on the floor trying to come up with a plan.

You weren’t sure how much time had gone by but at some point later in the day a woman appeared with a tray carrying a bowl of soup and some toast as well as an apple and a bottle of water. You thanked her even though you had no appetite at all.

As you sat under the window staring up at the little bit of the sky you could see you wondered what was happening in the outside world. What happened at the coffee shop when you didn’t show up for work? Did they call looking for you? You were going to fall behind in your classes if that even mattered any more. Was Yoongi even looking for you or was he worried this would get out in the public and ruin his image? It was all becoming too much and you began to cry fearing the future and the unknown.

After a while of crying and dozing off you decided you were getting a little hungry. Remembering the tray from earlier you decided against the soup which was now cold and gelatinous, but the toast still seemed okay so you picked it up taking a bite.

It was slightly stale but passable. As you mindlessly chewed you noticed a small piece of paper on the plate where the bread had been.

With your brows furrowed you unfolded the paper finding a hand written note. The writing was barely legible as it appeared quickly scratched down and was written in some kind of lipstick.

“I’ll come back tonight. When you hear three knocks at the door be prepared to run.”

Your mouth went dry. Your heart began to race. Quickly you chugged down the bottle of water as you contemplated if running was worth the risk. Surely if they caught you then you would be killed. And who is this woman and why is she helping you? What if it was a test?

You had a million different thoughts going through your mind, but they were cut short.

*Knock…Knock…Knock*

Slowly the door creaked open and the same woman from earlier peaked in the room. She motioned for you to follow her. What did you have to loose you thought so you did.

The two of you tiptoed down the hall and some stairs before you heard shouting after you.

“Run!”, the woman shouted so you sprinted not far behind her. You ran down hallways and and stairs. Looking for any exit door.

Just when you saw your hope, a door with a large window facing the outside world just down the hall from you, you were grabbed and harshly thrown down on the ground. You looked up seeing Yoongi’s friend breathing heavily.

“This is what I get huh? I tried to let you stay upstairs in a warm room. I gave you food. Yoongi always said I was the soft one out of the two of us. I guess he was right, but not any more.”, he spat dragging you down the hall by your arm.

Frantically you searched for the woman from earlier who tried to help you. You hoped she got out or was at least safe, but you quickly realized that was not true. A blood curdling scream rang through the air followed by a single gunshot. Your eyes widened in horror.

“Don’t worry sweetheart. I’m not gonna kill you just yet. Not before you’ve gone on a final date with your Yoongi.”

You swallowed down the lump in your throat as the man threw you in a cell, the iron gates loudly clanking shut. It looked like you were in a dungeon. It was cold and there was zero light coming through.

Without speaking the man tossed you an old dirty towel to use as a blanket before heading back upstairs leaving you down there alone.

Days went by. You were barely fed and barely slept. You had accepted your fate at that point. Unsure if it was the delirium setting in or what but you often found yourself chuckling at your situation.

You missed the days of going to college. You missed your friends. You missed the smell of coffee and the warmth it brought. You couldn’t believe how your life had turned around in the matter of hours all thanks to you falling in love with a lier, con artist, the devil? You weren’t really sure how to view Yoongi right now. He was probably leading a meeting right now without a care in the world. He’s probably going out to dinner later with some woman he met on his way to work with the sole intention to get in her pants by the end of the night. A small part of you hoped he was worried about you. Looking for you. Doing anything to help. Because a small part of you still loved him.

You hadn’t heard anyone walk in until you heard the iron gate slide open ending in a loud clank.

“Put this on. And use these wipes to clean yourself up.”, an unfamiliar voice said.

You sat staring at the items in front of you not moving.

“Bosses orders”, the man growled.

Slowly you grabbed the wipes and began wiping down your face and arms. It actually felt kind of nice.

You reached for the other items, a black cocktail dress and hair brush. You took the brush and ran through your hair a few times until the knots were out.

You looked at the dress and then at the man in front of you. He rolled his eyes and sighed before turning around and facing the wall. Quickly you removed your clothes and put the dress on before the man could turn around.

Just as you finished, the familiar smell of cigars entered the air and not long after Yoongi’s friend appeared.

“Wow don’t you look nice. I can see why Yoongi likes you. I think he’ll appreciate that you dressed up just for him.”, he said before blowing a cloud smoke through your cell.

“Now go ahead and stand up against that wall.”, he pointed towards the other side of the cell.

You crossed your arms in defiance refusing to move.

He chuckled, “I like you Y/N. I really do. Too bad I’m only giving you twenty four hours to live.” Your face dropped in realization at his statement.

A bright flash lit up the cell for just a moment before you realized your photo had been taken.

“Thanks sweetheart. I’m sure Yoongi will love it.”, he laughed before leaving you alone once again.

Yoongi was back at his place pacing back and forth. He’d ignored call after call from Hobi. He’s sure he’s wondering where he and/or you are and he doesn’t have the brain power right now to come up with a believable lie.

As he stared out at the river below his apartment he heard a new notification on his phone. A text message from an unknown number came through showing the preview of a photo.

Clicking on the message he instantly dry heaved sure he would’ve fully vomited had he consumed anything today.

A photo of you in a black dress. Your hair frazzled. Immediately Yoongi noticed the bruising on your body. The cut on your lip and welt on your forehead. What killed him the most was the look on your face. The look of fear, of despair. He could see you were holding back tears and it was all thanks to him.

Seconds later another message came through, “Y/N’s a beauty Yoongi. I always did think you had good taste when it came to women and it seems like even after all these years nothing has changed. You have 24 hours to find us. If you involve the police I’ll kill her instantly. If you even care…”

You had changed back into your old clothes giving yourself a little more coverage from the cold. The floor was made of stone but you were so exhausted you were able to drift off to sleep quite quickly.

You fell into dreamland. Dreaming that you were on a beach. The warm sun shone down on you as a breeze rippled through the air. The ocean waves crashed gently against the sand next to you as you walked along the edge. Looking up you saw Yoongi just down the beach waiting for you. He flashed you a gummy smile showing you the two drinks he had in his hands. Just as you began to walk towards him the sky turned dark and a giant wave came crashing down on you dragging you out to sea. You screamed for help unable to get yourself out of the current as the waves kept you down. Running out of fight you felt yourself slowly drifting under water father and rather. The last thing you remembered was hearing Yoongi screaming your name.

You jerked awake sweaty and out of breath with your hand clutching to your chest.

Sitting up you did your best to try and calm yourself down taking deep slow breaths.

Faintly from a distance you swore you heard your name shouted. You brushed it off thinking it was just a residual memory from your dream.

Then you heard it again, a little clearer this time and you were a little more certain.

“Yoongi?”, you whispered to yourself hearing a familiar sound as the door slammed open.

[hidden-poet]

Commander Snow

Summary; Under the advice of Dr Gaul Coriolanus returns back to district 12 where without blinding light of lucy-grey he could see you.

Warnings; dead dove to do not eat, stalking, unrequited love, breeding kink, violence, possessive!Snow, unco/dubco, sexual content, she/her pronouns.

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Chapter 2

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The next day you move yourself and your mother to a friends house. Where you both sleep on the floor in the living room. It costs you half a panem a night but it was still a better living arrangement then laying awake until the yearly hours of the morning wondering if a peacekeeper would knock down your door.

You keep your head down. Going straight from work to the house. It seemed to pay off. Your neighbor had reported that the parcels had stopped after a peacekeeper had noticed it was the community and not the intended taking it.

You don't hear from Commander Snow. There was no summons or arrest order made for you.

It leads you to relax bit. He had probably moved on to another after realizing that you would not sell yourself for a pardon and a weekly box of food. You knew many others would, and you wished them the best of luck with their endeavor with Commander Snow. But your nature pushed away such opportunities. You couldn't even tell him you weren't interested to his face. Fear only played a part in that decision.

It was late now as you walked home from you job. Later then usual as your boss had offered you overtime to clean and organize the cold room. You gladly accepted with the added cost of your stay at your friends house.

Four shiny coins had been placed in your hand before you had even done the job. You couldn't believe she was willing to pay this much for such a simple job. You wondered if it was repayment for all your years of hard work for her.

You were never late, always made sure your jobs were done to a standard of excellence, you even stayed back to help train the new people.

All your hard work was finally being rewarded. You made sure to leave the space the best it had ever been.

The money was at least a month's work.

You hadn't written to your brother in so long due to the cost of the paper and shipping fees but now with your extra cash you could reach out.

You make the journey to the stationary store, getting in just before close and go around the back of the building. Using the flat wall as a writing pad.

Your brother had gone to district 8 after influenza swept through killing half their work force. They had asked for volunteers to relocate. Many young men offered. The pay was higher in district 8 as the Capital had a great need for the fabrics and manufacture that it produced. Your brother was picked being effortlessly strong and healthy.

The day he left was the worst day of your life. You miss him terribly, only communicating through letters which were expensive and took ages to find its way to its destination.

You tell him how much you miss him, and worry about him over at district 8. That your mother is well, and prays for him every night before bed. You thank him for the money he sends when he can. Telling him of your own good fortune with the coins, and how he was to spend his half on a cold drink if he could get one, and a night out on the town.

Your pen stills as your thoughts turn to Commander Snow. Should you tell your brother of the strange officer. He was always protective. Would he try and come back to district 12 for you. would they even let him.

You decide not to. It would only worry him, and in his worry he would make rash decisions. You would not be responisble for his harm.

Instead you reiterate how much you miss him, and warn him to write back soon.

You drop two of the coins and the pencil back into the envelope, sealing it shut and stuffing it in your pocket. It was too late to ship it off. You would have to wait until tomorrow.

You felt scared walking back to the house with the money as if people could sense it in your pocket.

You remind yourself your being silly as you walk through the road dividing the streets. There was no one else out at this time. Only you, and you were nearly to the safety of the house.

There was no street lamps in the districts. The only light coming from the houses you pass. You try to remain in the light but sway slightly into the shadows as you reach the steps of your accommodation.

You scream as you feel hands upon your skin. One going around your mouth to quiet you and the other pulling you back against the house.

"Sh sh, Its just me. It's just me. You're safe".

You feel your kness tremble as you pin the voice to a face. Commander snow stood before you, using his body to press you up against the side of the house. His chest pushed against your shoulders, his leg pushed between yours and melded to the wall behind. He kept his left hand on your right shoulder to keep you still and only removed his right hand from your mouth when you went mute. Who would you scream for that could do anything any way.

With his body pressed against yours in such a tight manner, he had free use of his hands.

You weren't getting out from under him, even you realized that. You looked for guns or knife on him but found nothing in the light the moon and surrounding houses offered. He didn't wear his official Capital issued Commander uniform. Instead he dressed down in high waisted black pants, and a long sleeved cotton shirt. He still wore his dog tags and army boots.

'So this is were you've been hiding, hm?". He ran his knuckles along your cheek bone, and you shuddered from his touch.

"No, Sir".

"yes, Sir. I left boxes at your house like a fool".

You could tell he was upset with you.

"It's fine. You'll be back there tomorrow to take the food in. Did you go through my first box i sent?"

You nod your head and a smile appears on his lips.

'What did you have first?". He pushes back a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"My mother had a apple" You torn it from her after her first bite.

"i asked what you had first". He pressed his body harder against you.

"We haven't touched the box otherwise, Sir. We can give it back to you. We can compensate for the veggies and the fru-"

He was not happy with your answer, cutting you off.

"Ungrateful brat".

"Sir, we never asked you for it and we don't have money to pay for it"

"You're welcome" his pointer runs along your nose, "I can't have my partner in crime going hungry. Now can I".

You shiver from the familiar way of speaking. You did not want the Commander of district 12 to have a nic-name for you.

"I ought to go inside. They are waiting for me".

You try and move away, thinking he would release you. His cover would be blown if they take to looking for you.

He does not, choosing to place his hands around your neck. Not showcasing his great strength but resting in warning. His thumbs press gently into your throat.

"i think they can wait a few more minutes. Don't you?".

You nod as much as his hold would allow you to. You felt as if he was all around you. With his body wedging you flat against the wall, you felt as if you were sharing the same breath.

"you're ok" He repeats, "i am not going to hurt you".

"Perhaps it would put me at ease if you stepped back a bit, sir"

He shakes his head, "You have a habit of running away".

"You have a habit of appearing out of no where".

You can see him grin under the dim light. That was intentional, He always wanted you to feel as if he was always watching and could turn up at any moment.

"Can you make me some more of those oat bars?"

"Ye-yes" you stutter.

"Do you have the ingredients?"

"yes" you repeat.

"Good. Bring them to my office the day after next".

"Yes, Sir. Can I go now?"

"I haven't seen you for nearly two weeks and you're so quick to run away?"

"'Sir, please I Have to get inside". away from you.

"Why were you so late getting home?" he ignored your plea completely.

His thumbs circles on your throat.

"I had to work back" you admit.

"And then?". He already knew that wasn't the full story so you confess you brought some paper and took some time to write a letter.

"A letter?" he asks, "A letter to who?".

"My brother. He went to district 8 for work".

You gasp as he releases you. Giving you a least two feet of space.

"Lets see it" he demands.

With shaky hands you pull the crumpled letter from your pocket. He grabs it before you could hold it out to him.

He rips it open, and pours the two silver coins into his hand, tossing them around.

"My coins".

"My coins" you state, taking a step forward, "For my over time"

Surely he wouldn't find it appealing to take your coins from you. He was commander Snow he didn't need any money in district 12. He could just take. There would be no one to stop him.

"And where do you think your boss got the coins to give you for your over time. Where's the rest of them".

It was a set up. Not hard work and luck that gave you a few extra coins. But an odd infatuation from the officer.

You pull the rest from your pocket showing them to him.

He scoffs, "i gave her eight , she gives you four. I expected her to take two, but four. Does your district know no limits to their greed".

He mentally leaves his sweet girl out of the picture. She had received four and was willingly giving 2 away. He was sure you would also give your mother one and spend the rest wisely. Tigress always brought him new clothes with her overtime. Using old curtains to fashion her own.

You hold out your hand for him to take the coins back.

Much like his tigress, You were giving what you had to him.

"If I had known" you start.

"The point was that you didn't know". He snaps.

You still hold out your hand for him to retrieve the coins.

"Keep them. You earnt them".

You pocket the change. You had really earnt them.

He balls your brothers coins in his fist and moves out more into the light to read your letter. You were so glad you decided to leave Commander Snow out of it.

he reads fast, flipping the page and going on to the next in a matter of seconds.

He nods satisfied that it was in fact a letter to your brother and not a lost lover, before he folds the letter back up and places the coins back in the envelop.

"I'll mail it for you" he offers but you protest at the thought.

'I'd prefer to do it, Commander".

"You don't trust me? After everything we've been through, and the secrets we share".

"No-I-" you were thankful he interrupted you again, unsure of your own sentence.

"We're friends, right?"

You nod having the feeling it wasn't truly a question.

"Friends do things for each other. Let me to this for you".

"It's too big of an ask" you try again. You reach for the letter but he pulls it back.

"You could", a step forward had you going back, " do something for me to ease your conscious".

He moves towards you again until you were once again pressed up against the wall.

"What?" you breathe.

His hand cups your face, and his body braces itself against yours before his lushes lips capture yours.

The kiss is deep and hard, Barely moving off before coming back for more. His tongue licks at the bottom of your lip, sucking gently when you don't let him in.

He repositions his head to a tilt, keeping his top lip pressed against your bottom as he does. He comes back with full force, your head knocking softly against the wall from the force.

"that" another small kiss presses against your lips. A quick peck to your sealed lips.

You turn your head in case of another one, and his hand on the side of your face follows.

He digs into his pocket, pulling out two coins and pressing them into your hand.

"Take the coins. Buy yourself a new dress"

"I don't want-"

He sh's you.

"take the coins, buy the dress and stop avoiding me".

"Thursday" you remind him, the day after next.

"Yes, Thursday. Don't forget. Tomorrow if you can".

The house across the track opens its door and an middle aged women appears throwing a bucket of dirty water over the terrace. Coriolanus shrinks into the shadows until she return back inside.

"Go inside" He demands, stepping back. You rush away from him not looking back as you run into the house. But you feel his stare upon your back.

The next morning two peacekeepers knocked on the door to drive you and your mother back to your house, leaving you with a large basket of food.

'What have you done?" Your mother asks you behind closed doors.

"I am not sure" you reply honestly.

-----------

You make the worst batch of oat meal bars you've ever made and deliver them to the compound.

You were almost sure you were going to be shot as you approached the gate but they must have been expecting you, opening the gate as you neared.

You had tried to just give the basket to the Peacekeeper but he demanded that you go inside with him. You follow him through the large estate.

Peacekeepers old and new were everywhere. Some without their uniform giving them an almost human look. They eyed you as you passed.

They thinned as you reached a stunning white building made of stone. Everything else was structured out of metal so you knew that the building only housed the most important people.

It wasn't any less busy as people ran about you with stacks of paper. It was loud inside the walls. People talking to each other as they walked, some yelling down a telephone. None of them even glance at you or the peacekeeper you followed.

He leads you to a large oak door, twice the length of you, and he knocks three times.

"Come in" you hear Commander Snow call.

The peacekeeper opens the door but makes no attempt to enter the threshold. You do, and the door is immediately closed behind you.

"You couldn't make it yesterday?" he asked crossing his desk to join you in the center. You hold your basket like a protective shield.

It kept you distanced as places his hands on your shoulders.

'i had to go to work" You explain and you push the basket to his chest, attempting to rid his hands from you.

He does take the basket with a small hmm before returning to his desk. He places the basket down and digs for a oat bar. As he bites down you could tell he could taste your lack of effort.

Still he eats it without complaint as he pours coffee from a tray into two mugs. He motions for you to sit down but you were itching to go.

"I should go" you state.

"Sit" his mouth was full with the oat bar.

You do sit but don't drink the coffee offered. You notice that he had better looking biscuits on his tray.

He leans against the desk next to you and takes another big bite of the bar. His eyes wonder down to you where you sat anxious twisting your ring.

"What's that?" he points with the oat bar down.

It was only a small metal ring. Thin pieces of twisted metal in a circle. So small most people never even noticed it.

Your brother had given it to you on your nineteenth birthday as a congratulations for not being selected for the hunger games.

He obviously knew it was a ring, and you obviously knew he was really asking who gave you that.

"A gift from my brother before he left". You stop twisting it to draw attention off it but it was too late.

He finished his oat bar, dusting his hands clean from the crumbs before standing up to full height.

"Give it to me".

You shake your head no. It was the last thing you had of him.

Still Coriolanus held his hand out expecting.

"It's very dear to me, Sir".

"I'll take very good care of it".

You look up at him with pleading eyes, his softens but he doesn't relent.

"You can give it to me or I can take it", he warns.

You almost cry as you twist it off your pointer finger and place it in his palm.

He flips it around his pinky finger, and wedges both hands between his knees.

"There's sugar there if you want it".

You stand up angry.

"I don't want it. I have to get to work".

You attempt to storm off but he catches you with a firm hold on your upper arm and a hand wrapped around the side of your face.

Under his strong fingers you remember your anger could get you killed.

"Don't be upset with me" he pleads.

"I ain't upset" you remark although you eyes brim with tears, "They dock my pay half if i am even a minute late. I have to go".

"I'll walk you to the gate". You wait for him to take the lead.

You find the walk back less busy as people avoid the Commanding officer. He twists the ring in the same anxious manner that you did. He wanted to say something. Offer something in return but could think of nothing that would compensate.

It's too late by the time the journey ends. He pulls open the gate and the Peacekeepers facing forward don't turn.

You could feel his hand on your back and it shoots you forward. He remains at the gate watching you flea from him.

No one asks you why you're crying at work. So long as you are doing your tasks they don't care.

----------

On Saturdays you have a stall in the markets selling your baked goods. Your friend helps you when she has the day off for a portion of the profits.

Today it was sunny. Hot but with a nice cool breeze. People flooded through the stalls. Your cakes sold great, even better with the fresher ingredients from Coriolanus box.

You could sell the oat bars with chocolate on top for nearly double. Chocolate was rare in the districts. Most people had never even tasted it before.

Coriolanus was doing his rounds letting a younger officer with great potential shadow him for the day. He freezes when he saw you.

He had walked these markets two or three times before, Had you always been there? He must have walked past you and your stall and never even noticed. Fate has a mysterious way of working. He was now certain that it pushed you into the compound due to his ignorance while on duty.

You looked beautiful in a white top and tight blue jeans. You had your hair covered in a bandana again and wore your normal work boots.

He put his helmet back on in case you looked over and saw him. He was sure you were still upset about Thursday, and he didn't want to spoil your good mood.

The young solider followed suit. Hiding from sight without question. He might survive district 12.

You laughed with your friend who sat on a milk crate to eat her apple. At her feet lay a brown sack filled food. She quickly closed it to avoid being robbed but Coriolanus had already seen it.

He tightened his hold on his rifle. No doubt it had come from you. from Coriolanus to be more correct. He agreed to feed you, even if that meant feeding your mother too, but he did not agree to feed your friends.

Your next box would be smaller.

A school group blocks his view of you as they pass, and Coriolanus refocus to his surroundings. He sees a young boy, no more then 6, dilly dallying behind the rest of the group. He goes up to each stall looking at what they had to offer before slowly making his way to his class.

He was going to be left behind at his current rate.

"you see the young boy in the red shirt?'' Coriolanus asks his soilder.

"Yes, Sir". The boy flexes his shoulders as if the child poses a threat.

''When he reaches that cake stand, I want you to push him over".

He pats the boys shoulder urging him to go. He looked confused but followed command going over to a nearby stall to yours and pretending to look at something.

The young boy skips two stalls to come directly over to yours. His eyes go round at the sight of the chocolate oat bar.

Your smile gets wipped off as the boy is knocked to the ground. You glare instead at the Peacekeeper who made a lap back to Coriolanus.

The boy screams and crys at his scrapped knee. Coriolanus ducks behind a large pillar as you round your table to pick him up.

You were talking to him, soothing him as you rocked side to side. He reacted positively wrapping his little arms around your neck.

Coriolanus bangs his head against the piler. That was the reaction he was hopping for. To see you in a nurturing state as you consoled the boy.

"is that what you wanted sir?" his solider stood in front of him, and he pushes the boy out of the way. He had blocked the view of you carrying the child and setting him on your table.

You reach behind the crying boy and offer him a chocolate oat bar. His crying almost immediately stops.

"yes. Good. Go back to base and have the rest of the afternoon off solider".

The solider is ecstatic at the news, and with a "thank you, sir" he was pushing himself back through the crowd.

You were talking but he wasn't sure if it was to the boy or to your friend. He wished he knew what you were saying.

You had taken off your bandana and wet it with you water bottle to wipe the blood off his knee.

It was so natural for you, he thought, to care for others. Once you got comfortable enough, how would you care for him, he wondered.

Would you baby him as you babied this child if he got hurt.

he shuffles back realsing that he had itched forwarrd as you picked up the child again. You gave him another bar to eat. He was certain you were talking to your friend this time, looking squarely at her before you took off after the school.

The primary school was located at top of a large hill. Away from the noise and violence of the district.

The young boy clung to you as you walked. His chocolate hands getting over your white top as he licked the icing off.

Coriolanus followed you out of the markets. he waits until you were away from the crowd before picking up his pace to you.

The young boy catches Coriolanus' eye and begins to struggle in your grip, pointing at him. The big scary peacekeeper was coming your way.

You tighten your hold and spin to face him.

You looked shocked to see him.

"Commander Snow, sir"

A formal greeting to someone who had you pinned to the side of a wall four night ago.

He smiles at you. Trying to distract you so he can move closer to you.

"I saw" he says, "and I've come to help you return the lost boy"

"I'll be fine on my own, sir"

"I insist. You never know who lurking around. My job to keep you safe".

Coriolanus was not speaking from his station as commander.

"Do you want me to carry him?" Coriolanus offered looking at the large hill.

"No, no" the boy begs, but Coriolanus reaches for him anyway.

You turn away, curling your body around the child.

"No. It's ok. I've got him".

Coriolanus was sure you were going to struggle getting up the hill with the extra weight. If the boy was only a sack of potatoes, he would have just yanked it from your grip. But you looked so good with a child on your hip.

You could always swap half way if you wanted.

"It's ok, darlin'" you rub soothing circles on the boys back, making Coriolanus jealous, "we're gonna get you back to class".

We're. we. us. The partners in crime.

He bucks his chest out with confidence.

You begin your journey up the hill, and Coriolanus was right. Not even half way up and you had to shift the child around to your front to distribute the weight. Coriolanus goes to take him but you reject his offer once again.

"He's alright" you insist.

The child rests his head on your chest, his eyes staring at Coriolanus as if to say ha ha.

He was about to suggest you perhaps just let the boy walk, but you beat him through the silence.

"Are you following me?"

"i was showing a new candidate the patrol routes. I just happened to have seen you with the boy, and wanted to help you get him back to class as per my duty".

Close enough to the truth.

"And lydia's? how did you know i was staying there?"

His unclips his helmet and attaches it to his rifle.

"I asked around". Threated your neighbors.

You fall into silence again and this time it was Coriolanus who brecks it,

"Are you going to share everything I give you with others?"

You scoff at his words, ''saw me with the child, hey?'".

He grabs your arm to turn you causing the boy to wail again.

'You might find I am a lot more closed fisted if I can't be certain it's actually going to you".

You tear free and bounce the boy in your arms.

"shhh baby. It's all ok'' You smooth his hair back, cradling him to you.

You step away from the scary peacekeeper as you and the boy talk. You soon compliance him back to a settled temperament, and Coriolanus steps back over to you.

He doesn't mention the sharing again. He would wait for the journey back. He found himself childishly annoyed when your attention went all to the small boy.

You huff as the boy gets heavier in your arms but Coriolanus doesn't offer to take him again. He'll let you struggle.

"Why do you feed people you don't know?" the boy sucks on the remainder of the oat bar, slopper getting all over your shoulder.

You don't answer. He calks it up to the physical labor.

"The prisoners, the boy" he pushes. He leaves himself out of the list. You both feed each other because you innately knew each other. You were partners in crime and partners in crime look after one another.

"Who's to say I don't know em".

"I assure you after I was done if the prisoners knew you they would have given you up. They didn't know".

He half regretted his sentence seeing you tense up. But he was sure he left a impression of a strong, powerful man. You just needed to get over your guilt first to see it.

"We look after each other in District 12. It may not seem like it to you but these are good people here".

You looked after people here, he wasn't so sure that they had the same loyalty back.

He had seen enough flips and crumbles to know that for the right price they would feed you to him.

He wanted to tell you this. To set you straight, and show that he was the only one looking out for you. But he knew the information would upset you and he had already done that once this week. He would save it for another time.

You struggle up the hill, puffing out gratefully as the small school house came into view. A large tree marked the boundary, upholding a wire fence around the small metal huts.

You turn to Coriolanus, "I think the gun might scare them".

He take his large rifle off his shoulder and leans it against the tree. Your face still read of your displeasure.

"it might just be best if i go on with him".

He looks to you and then back to the school. He could still see you if he stayed underneath the shade of the tree.

'' I'll wait for you here then''. The gun is slung over his shoulder and he takes its place against the tree.

The boy watches Coriolanus over your shoulder as you walk with him.

You call out to the teacher frantically recounting her children.

"hey, I think you're missing one!". You place the small boy on the ground and wave goodbye to him as he runs over to his teacher, complaints of his sore knee spilling from his mouth.

Turning back to Coriolanus, your smile disappears and your pace that was slow with the child picked up to a near sprint.

He straightened up as you came near but you walked straight past him without looking.

"Do you want children?" He matches your pace

"No" you spat, "never".

Maybe if you met the right man, he wanted to say. A man who could protect them.

But he swallowed the words. This situation was new to him too. He didn't want to make promises he would later not plan to keep.

"You should reconsider" he says instead, "I think you would make a good mother".

You were naturally a very warm and loving person. While others walked around the crying boy you picked him up and nurtured him.

Coriolanus remembered a time in the war he had gone out alone in search of food. He found only hungry dogs, who chased him through the ruined city.

"Help!" he cried, looking back at the fast approaching beasts.

His foot catches a large pothole in the ground and he is thrown upon his face. Sure he was going to get eaten he calls out for Tigress but it is a large man that appears at name.

He bangs the lids of trash cans together and shouts angrily at the dogs, scaring them off.

A savior, he thought. But dropping the lids and turning to Coriolanus, the man didn't cradle the boy to his chest as you had but reached for his axe under his coat and swung it down.

He had managed to roll out of its path and get to his feet just in time.

The man was slower than the dogs, overcome with starvation. Coriolanus could disappear between the buildings. He remembered as he hid in rubble while waiting for the man to pass, how sacred he was.

It was one of the core memories that haunted him to this day.

oh how he wished that someone like you had found him instead, but he wasn't sure people could be like that anymore. He wasn't sure how through all the misery and pain you could remain so soft. He wanted to sink his teeth into your flesh and have a taste.

"What would be the point. Loving someone only to watch them get killed in the hunger games".

You feet come down hard, channeling the anger you couldn't express.

"The chances are small. There are over 300 families in district 12".

He just wanted to hear you say you would like children. The picture of you big and round while rocking a boy the same age as the lost child seemed to be getting hazer as you resisted.

"You should ask Milly May, or Harrison Flint if their chances seemed small".

This years tributes to the Hunger Games. They both died the first day. Milly May the first hour.

"Motherhood looks good on you. Natural" he tries again.

You stop in your tracks, turning to face him.

“I can’t give you what you want. No matter how much you try and sweet talk me or buy me. It won’t be given”.

It didn't matter, was the first thought that appeared in his head.

"I don't want anything from you. In fact, it's been me that's been giving. Food. Protection. All to have it spat back in my face".

Your eyes float down the hill. The beginning of Town was still a little while away.

"I understand, sir. Perhaps your efforts would be appreciated more else where".

It was a gentle let down but resulted in a harsh strike.

His hand came down upon your cheek, almost knocking you to the ground. You stumble off balance, looking up at him.

The anger on his face morphs into disappointment. Before he could reach out for you, you take off running down the hill.

You might be beaten for your rejection.

You feel his hand brush against your shoulder as he tries to grab you but you avoid it.

Pushing yourself down the hill as fast as you could go. But it wasn't fast enough.

He tackles you to the ground, crawling on top of you and securing both your wrists with one hand.

"I am sorry, I am sorry" he holds the side of the face he stuck, smoothing it over, "I shouldn't have done that".

You trash under him, screaming.

His soft hand retracts from your face to take off the rifle from his shoulder, he sets it down next to you.

His dog tags had made their way from under his shirt and now dangle over your face. You can see he had added your ring to the chain.

''Let me see" his hand returns to your jaw, forcing it to the ground on the other side so he could inspect your cheek, "only a little bruise".

He lets your head go back to its normal position, and you're left looking in his eyes.

"What I do, I do for you. Okay? not your friends, and not for anyone else. Do you understand?".

His hand reaches up going to your palm and enclosing your curled hand with his. He held himself up with his hold on your wrists, and with the other now pressed over yours, all his weight bore down on you.

The weight upon your hands hurt.

"Yes, Sir".

"If I find out you've been sharing again. I'll hang them for thievery".

You give two little nods.

"I understand, Sir. It won't happen again. Please, let me get up".

He hops off you. choosing to crouch at your feet as you sit up. He notices your shoe lace untied and begins to pull the laces tight and loop the knot back up.

You sit there stunned as he picks up his gun and rises. Offering you a hand you take it and he pulls you up.

The journey down the hill begins again. His hand reaches out to keep you in pace with him when he feels you propelling down.

You reach the bottom in a comfortable silence and stop at the foot of the hill.

"We can't be seen going back together. It will put a target on my back".

You were right. The district scum might harm you if they thought it would get back at Coriolanus.

He nods in understanding.

"You go ahead. I'll follow". He gestures forward.

You go quickly back to your stall. He tries to keep focus on you but your short stature gets momentarily lost in the crowd.

You reach your stall and go straight back behind it. Your friend is standing next to you talking in a worried hush tone when Coriolanus reaches the table.

You don't look at him as he takes one of the chocolate oat bars and continues walking back to the compound.

It tasted dry in his mouth, he didn't like that you were still baking for others, you were going to have to shut down your stall.

-----------

Coriolanus stood upon the platform at the hanging tree, having it checked for bombs twice.

The gate was swung open for the public, and every available peacekeeper was present and armed.

The convicted all formed a line. Being hung one by one for dramatic effect. The families of the dead being forced to stand at the front of the audience so they could grab their sons/brothers/ cousins shoes as Peacekeepers dropped him and restrung the rope.

Coriolanus forbid traditional burial for traitors of the country. Families would have to settle for burying the shoes of their deceased love one while their bodies are cremated and sent to Dr Gaul's office as decoration.

"Phineas Hightower. Sentenced to death for consorting with rebels and making plans of an attack. Disturbing the peace of the district".

Coriolanus read into a microphone that fed through the town.

A young man approaches. 30 at the most. He didn't look scared as the others did. No tears or pleas of innocence. Coriolanus almost respected him.

The man kicks off his shoes as he steps upon the box, and a loud cry of grief overtook the space. The mockingjays echoed it out.

Peacekeepers were on the old women, presumably his mother, fast. Focus must be kept on the fate of the traitor, and not on the cries of mothers.

The old women reaches for her sons shoes but is shoved before she could reach them. She pleas with the officers taking her to the back, but they are like statues as they manhandle her away.

Coriolanus could now see tears spring in the eyes of the young man. A befitting end for a capital traitor.

He gives the order to continue the show. They ready the man for execution.

More commotion is heard as the crowd readjusts to let someone through. He looks to see you making your way through the crowd to the front.

Had you come to see him. Watch him as he took life. Does the power fill your belly with excitement to know that the same hands that caressed you now commanded death of another.

You wanted to make yourself known to him. To let him know he had a friend in the crowd. You had dressed pretty for him back in your clothes you wore for your vaccination. A nod to your secret bond.

You left the bandana off, letting your loose hair fall around your shoulders.

But no. You don't come to his side of the stage. You rush to the soon to be dead man.

You grab the shoes, just as the box is kicked. You squeeze your eyes shut and bring them to your chest.

Coriolanus steps back to the guards behind him.

He nods in your direction, "Take that girl to my study. Make sure she doesn't leave".

Coriolanus hears the body drop, and the Guard move to catch you.

You hadn't moved since the rope stretched. You stood there eyes closed and shoes to your chest until you felt hands upon you telling you to move.

You look back at Coriolanus on the stage to see him looking down at you.

The rage in your eyes matches his.

---------

Coriolanus makes a trip to the bathroom to wash his face and make himself more presentable. He takes off his official hat, and unbuttons the top of his jacket.

You had been waiting for him for nearly an hour and a half. Having to wait for the rest of the hangings to finish, the crowd to go home, the peacekeepers to sweep the area and the final report from all leaders to Coriolanus before he dismisses them for the night.

He untucks his chain from his neck and holds your ring in his hand.

You were still his girl. Just unshaped still.

Placing the hat under his arm he makes his way to you in his study. The Peacekeeper stood guard at the door.

"You can leave" he tells the man, before entering.

He sees you shoot up from the chair as he closes the door behind him.

You had been crying. He could see the tear lines still wet on your face.

"What were you doing at the hanging?". He storms over to you. He was giving you an opportunity to satisfy him.

I was there to see you but the women upset me. He wanted you to say.

"Leave me alone. i have to get these shoes home" You try and push past him but he shoves you down into the chair. Resting his weight upon the arms of it as he leaves over you.

"I've told you once, associating with rebels will get you hanged".

"his mother won't have a body to burry. She will have his shoes".

It was the first time you hadn't called him Sir in a conversation.

He wanted to slap you until you did.

But his hands were busy taking the shoes from you.

"Now she won't have shoes either. She can burry a memory".

You push the chair back to escape him. He could tell you wanted to hit him. Your fists balled and your stance was ready to swing.

"Come here" he demanded. It gnawed at him that you were upset with him. He was only doing his job.

"Give me the shoes" you demanded.

He drops the shoes to the ground.

"come and get them" he taunts.

You seem hesitant but you do, bending down at his feet to retrieve the shoes.

He grabs your jaw once your knee height and you struggle against him.

"Tell me I am taking good care of you" He pushes down as you try and get up. "Tell me how handsome I am".

You weren't truly mad at him, only overcome with emotion, he assured himself. But he too felt heavy after hanging days.

he had wanted to rest in your arms, similar to the boy with the scraped knee. But you offered him no comfort.

This time you do strike him across the face. He shoves you away and you scramble far, taking one shoe with you.

He begins to laugh, would every comfort be denied to him. No, not you.

"Don't you ever touch me again. You stay away from me from now on".

He was going to make you regret ever saying those words to him. You were going to give him every drop of kindness you held even if he had to wring it from your body. he deserved it after everything he had been through. You were his reward for it all, and by god he was going to have it.

But not now. Now he opened the door for your freedom, watching you run out.

He would make sure you came crawling back. Telling him you wanted his great care again. Telling him how handsome he was.

He would have you all. How much pain you wanted to go through first was entirely up to you.

[foryiujeans]

say you love me.

synopsis. after being in an arranged marriage with an arrogant + selfish man, you never realised how much he cared for you even if he was away.

pairings. slightly mean!ricky x fem!reader

warnings. swearing, slightly suggestive.

word count. 5k

general taglist. @forsobeans , @lvieee

“where are you?”

the only sound you could hear was the sound of the engines car cutting through the wind. it’s wheels hitting the road, the low volume of the radio coming in as a mix. having a sudden driver that was sent by your parents pulled up right in front of your house, casually saying that you need to go in and to not be late for the special meeting they said. playing with your phone, your cold hands meeting the device, soon as an incoming call from your father came up.

“i’m on the way, in another,” you took a peek at the window, “ten minutes.”

and with that, you ended the call, placing your phone on your lap when a text notification from your father appeared on your phone.

father : tell the driver to hurry. the shen family is already here, we just need you here to get started.

you thought that this meeting was supposed to be just you and your family, turns out it was just another business related thing to be discussed with. groaning at yourself to actually think that your parents finally paid attention to you, letting out a heavy sigh, you turned your phone off. - what’s there to be discussed that involves you?

you’re just a rather normal business woman, daughter of the fourth largest enterprise around the country, known only because of your sister's success for you to only just be her shadow, father’s little maid around the house back then, and mother’s little assistant. so you thought that there's nothing really special about you, only feeling the affection from your parents years ago.

you had entered your parents mansion, locking in the code before entering. the maid opened the door for you just as you were about to type in the pin. seeing the living room with your whole family and the shen family sitting in front of your family. you bowed and greeted the shen family. they all stared and greeted you back.

then your eyes landed at a rather fine and composed man, with his blonde platinum hair, well kept but he just lets it slicked back. there he sat with his legs crossed, repeatedly running his thumb over his lips. he screams success, wealth and more so power.

"there you are y/n, come now and take a seat right beside quanrui," your father soon jumped in, fully entering yourself inside the big study and closing the door behind you.

"we should start talking about why we we all decided to meet up"

youu followed your father’s orders not having any choice, you walked your way beside quanrui, his cool demeanor already suffocating you just by looking at him.

"well are you just gonna stand there?" he soon piped up, probably noticing you staring at him.

"move.” you ordered, voice laced with confidence and not caring if he's the son of the most successful ceo there is to set foot on this planet. he could only smirk by your confidence, not opening his mouth to say anything else. he moved to his side, giving you some space to sit down right beside him.

"great, let's get started." the man behind the desk boomed its voice around the room.

gazing at the man who you assumed was quanrui’s father, the CEO of shen enterprise. he looks a bit like ricky, just without his bleached hair.

“is it fine if we bring both our businesses together to promote our newest ceo of my company and the new chief executive officer?,” he says, “and if you’re both confused by bringing you both together means..”

and that's when it hit you. you weren't marrying just anyone, you were getting married to shen quanrui.

the well known CEO of shen enterprise- korea’s largest manufacturing company and owning up to 50+ brands. he was part of seoul and china’s most powerful businessmen, and even being one of the eligible bachelors. it made you feel small just by sitting right next to him, he was handsome, intoxicating and very much so mysterious.

it was the look that he always gives you to be so weak, wanting to just run away and hide under your covers, his now tall legs spread out before him, it seems like he owns this look, his dark eyes always barging in on your own.

swallowing down the lump in your throat, you stood up in your seat, leaving your purse behind for you to also feel quanrui’s gaze trail you from behind.

"what about us? did you even ask us if we're happy about this arranged marriage? and i don't want to marry a man who i just met! "

you don't know why you're suddenly raising your voice, you just hate the fact that the work you've put yourself through for the past few years is just going to be thrown out the window like it was nothing. you wish your whole adulthood to be free, planning on existing loudly with giving zero cares about the world, yet here you are catching the eyes of your parents and your soon to be husband as well.

"well, i’m going to ask you two now..." quanrui’s mother spoke up, facing her son and you.

"do you want this marriage?"

"no-'

"yes" standing there with great shock, you looked over your shoulder and down at quanrui, now having his arms crossed around his chest, agreeing to this marriage like a business matter.

"very well, we will leave the two of you be, and when we all come back here in this room, the papers should be signed already"

feeling powerless all of a sudden, you can't hear anything, only the sounds of their shoes hitting the well carpeted floors heading out to leave the room.

that's until you felt a hand being placed on your shoulder, looking up you faced your mother, a small yet sweet smile on her lips.

"sign the papers please darling, this would help us rise from being unknown to being known, this would bring happiness to our name, even our reputation would increase…. sign the papers" she finished, eyes watching her leave the room as well.

now here you are with him, the killer silence of the study making your ears hurt. you faced him, a frown sitting on your face making him look at you, smirking. bringing out his own pen, his long slender hands opening his cross pen with his family name engraved in gold.

"why did you say yes?"

"they’ve been talking about this whole marriage ever since i set foot back here, it made my ears hurt, so I said yes to make them stop setting me up with twenty different women already." he shrugged it off, walking his way towards his father's desk where the papers that needed to be signed layed on top.

"are you fine about all of this?" you asked, voice failing to not shake when he turned and faced you.

those eyes stared at you for a moment, noticing them look up and down your body almost like he's studying you.

not knowing the reason why he agreed to get married to somebody like you, a much less known woman when there should be many beautiful girls ahead of you.

"hmm?" he spoke up, hunching down the desk to have a more comfortable position to sign down the papers, watching the way he did it with just one go, no hesitation at all, signing his name with his signature.

"i don't care, i don't want my family name to be dragged down in dirt, and it means i get to see your annoying face every day." he ended, deep voice sounding like honey meets your ears.

you looked at his back facing you, what he said earlier still filled your mind like some hard test, he's fine on helping your parent's company even if it costs his freedom as the CEO to get ruined, you could see it, you could see that he's not ready for all of this. So his family is willing to help yours, you slowly took the pen away from his hands, his own pen caging down your delicate hands, catching him off guard.

he stood there beside you, watching as you signed down the papers with your name and signature right beside his, it's the least thing you could do to make your parents proud, putting your whole life under this piece of paper. he was about to grab his pen back from you, that's when your grip around it tightens, quiet sniffles coming out of you as for his eyes to catch freshly salted tears hit the carpet floors.

shen quanrui didn't know what to do, not the type to comfort somebody that well. are you really sad about this whole marriage?

suddenly there was a grey handkerchief coming close to your vision, looking up, you met his hand extended out to you with his handkerchief sitting on top.

"wipe your tears away it makes you look weak.” he scoffed, waiting for you to take it.

oh, how annoying and stupid is he?

this day was dreadful, here you are standing just before the grand doors of a wedding you never asked for, having to follow your wish to make your parents happy for at least once from you. you felt the weight of your unknown future welcoming you as you began walking down the red carpeted aisle.

all that you have now is yourself, and shen quanrui.

he couldn't help but kiss his teeth, knowing that you're probably feeling way more worse than he is right now, but he was clenching his fists, finding himself to relate.

he grabbed both of your hands, trying to finally comfort you in front of everyone, running his thumb over your knuckles, feeling how cold they are and how warm his hands are. and then the sound of the priest's voice became audible, this word could change everything.

"i pronounce you husband and wife, you may now kiss the bride.”

the two of you locked eyes for a moment, letting go of your hands as quanrui saw that you were already looking at him, starstruck at first, he felt his world stop moving when he looked deeply in your eyes.

finally seeing your face fully because when the two of you first met which was weeks ago, he didn't get a clear view of your face. his eyes trailed down vour lins awaiting the kiss that will probably feel awkward.

feeling the pads of his thumb wipe away your tears, cupping your cheeks as he leaned in, his intoxicating scent still taking the air away from your lungs.

he suddenly stopped, placing his mouth right next to your ear as he whispered some words deeply.

"don’t make that face, it’ll be fine." and with that, he cupped your cheeks, still feeling tears in the corner of your eyes for him to wipe it away, hating to see you like this now. he pressed his lips with your own, surprisingly they were soft, and he guided you through the kiss by placing a hand behind your back.

still standing there in shock, you inhaled deeply and returned the kiss, you swore you felt him smile through the kiss. finishing off with him running his tongue down your bottom lip. you pulled away, crimson cheeks not afraid to hide when you faced him, holding your hand and intertwining them together. the two of you faced everybody, cheers and smiles everywhere for your eyes to see. you took a quick glance to your side, seeing his smile slowly disappear, his body hugged well by his black ralph lauren tux. it’s the first time you've paid attention to him this whole ceremony, you can't deny the fact that he looks breathtaking.

"do you not get tired eating the same thing over and over again?" you asked the boy in front of you, his attention was simply down at the documents he brought along this trip. it’s been a few days after you got married to the CEO of shen enterprise. a plate of cheesecake present for your husband to dig in deliciously, the two of you agreed to meet at the cafe where you and him would always eat whenever he picks you up after work.

"nope, it's addicting and if i do get tired of eating it, that's when l'm probably dead" he shrugged it off, grabbing a fork and feeding himself another serve.

you could only roll your eyes at him playfully, drifting your attention back outside where the car is up for a show to everyone who walks and drives past it. you furrowed your eyebrows when you heard your him let out a groan, probably because he’s tired of work.

"give me a tissue.” he ordered.

"excuse me?, it's right in front of you" you pointed at the thing he was looking for.

"i can't reach it.” he tiredly responded, leaning back on his chair as he made no efforts on reaching for the tissues.

"i can't believe you.” you gave in and grabbed the pile of tissues but instead of giving it to him properly you threw it straight into his face. instead of saying something, your husband could only laugh, even though he hates seeing your face, he appreciates what you do for him.

“my, what a surprise to see you two here.” a voice barged into the conversation, knowing who it is by heart you and quanrui looked up seeing zhanghao also here, sunglasses on, a suit present for he looks like he just finished shooting another magazine cover, a cup of coffee on hand as he sat himself down the same table with you and ricky.

"what are you doing here, hyung?" quanrui took off first by asking a question to the eyebreaking intruder.

"i just finished doing my rounds of photoshoots and stopped by to grab myself some coffee." the boy could only roll his eyes at his friend.

"oh, so it is true!" zhanghao voice suddenly shocked you, jumping from your seat and you turned and looked at her questionably.

"what is?"

"you got married.” zhanghao eyes can't seem to break away from your wedding ring that quanrui slipped into your ring finger, the shining jewelry glittering under the lights for him to see.

"i thought it was a joke," zhanghao could only bite down his lip, trying his best to not laugh, “since i really thought ricky wasn’t interested in women-”

a smack on the back made the brunette groan and pouted at the younger. you could only laugh and watched the two of them argue.

"i was forced to marry him." you corrected him, turning your head to look at him half heartedly, trying to stay seated and not lose it on zhanghao when he gave you a teasing look.

“sorry for not coming to your wedding. i was in jeju for some work,” zhanghao only nodded, giving you a small smile, “i have to go, a meeting starts in thirty minutes.”

he bids goodbye to the two of you, walking out to his car to drive off back to his own company, leaving both you and ricky in the café.

"can i have your phone?" quanrui suddenly asked, leaning towards the table as he watched you from the front, who was busy looking at the café’s inside interior.

"why?" you were quick to turn around, an eyebrow raised to show confusion by his sudden words.

"just give me it.” he almost sounds like he's whining, leaving you smiling to yourself on how cute he could be even though he's still in his sharp suit.

he's still waiting for your phone. letting out a sigh to roll out of your lips you nodded your head at him.

"it's in my purse.” you trailed off, turning your attention back to the matter of hand which was washing the dishes.

you could've sworn you saw how his face lit up by the moment you said that. his eyes then trailed over to where your purse is, opening it up as he wasted no time to grab your phone, how stupid of him actually to think that he knows the password. when quanrui returns, you're already staring.

"open it"

he gave you your phone, not even asking what's going on, you did as you were told. opening your phone and when you did it was snatched away from your hands immediately from him.

"why do i have such a blank name?" he scrunched his nose, showing you your phone with his contact name on the screen as he scrutinized you.

shen quanrui

"i mean it is your name- wait do you want me to give you a nickname?" you finally picked everything up, eyes brightening with playfulness when you caught ricky biting down his lips.

“yeah, give me a nickname and give me one that's cute" he suggested, giving you back your phone.

the way you looked so serious on picking out a nickname for him made him look at you, never knowing that this would be the two of you together behind closed doors, not what he's expecting at all.

he was expecting that the two of you would just ignore each other, go in each other's throats with pure hatred. you nearly laugh out loud when you look at your finished product, his new nickname really making you smile.

cheescake lover!

you noticed this earlier, whenever he picks you up after work and drags you to café’s, he’s always buy blueberry cheesecake.

"this is cute right?" you showed him his contact name, a teasing smile coming in last.

“yah! i can’t believe you.” he then grabs hold of your hand where your phone sits, quickly snatching your phone away from you, turning his back as he typed something down.

"quanrui!" you almost hit his back when you were trying your best to get it back, that's when he finally turned around resulting in you bumping into his chest. cheeks heating up, you looked up seeing him smiling at himself.

"there." he smiled, giving your phone back.

ricky ♡

the simple yet heart shaking name made the red tint on your cheek worsen, never once getting used to seeing his nickname next to a heart. you heard some of his friends call him this, ricky.

"ricky?" you mumbled under your breath.

"then my name better have a nickname on yours too!" you turned your phone off, putting it deep into your pocket where it's completely out of reach from him.

"of course.” ricky says, getting his own phone out and showing you the nickname he puts on you.

only taking note of how his hand made his phone look smaller in size, there he showed you your name.

y/n ♡

maybe being with him wasn’t that bad, the bad thing was he makes fun of you 24/7.

"y/n?"

you straightened yourself up, breathing out while slowly turning your back away to face him, hearing his voice without him singing made your knees weak, it turned deep, with a dulcet of it meeting you.

"hi" you sheepishly responded, a small smile forming in his lips when he noticed the state you're in, the whole scene looked like some father catching his daughter lurking in the hallway at 12am in the morning.

"putting on an all nighter?" ricky soon broke the silence and with every single time you try to break his gaze he would always catch them with just a simple eye contact, it's his thing, being a CEO and a business man with many words he picked up the trait where he would have to keep an eye contact with the one he's talking to.

"i just finished actually.” you said, trying your best to sound alright despite the fact that you're really tired with half of your work still present in your own office.

"can you look at me, y/n?" there was no pressure in his voice, it's the same soft melodic tone when he promised that he would take care of you down the aisle weeks ago. and when you did, the next thing he did surprised you, placing his index finger in the bottom of your chin with his thumb as a support, he looked deeply into your eyes.

"a penny for your thoughts?" ricky’s voice soon brought you back to reality. his soft gaze settles on your face with his sharp jawline being in full view for your eyes to see, he was firm as he faced you, his lips that's only inches away from your sight made your heart run faster than before.

"it's nothing.” you voiced out with a little bit of strength even though you are indeed feeling a little bit sleepy with the clock ticking away. he only looked at you, gazing at the tired features of your face, his brows began to furrow before you picked out a sigh escaping his lips.

"let's go to bed, yeah?" ricky then stood up, setting his guitar down to its stand as he waited for you, nodding your head the two of you walked out of the music room, the cold marbled floors kissing your feet while you walked behind him, his broad shoulders coming into a view as ricky would sometimes run his hand through his luscious raven hair.

"can i ask you something?" he stopped walking, trying to register everything he just said, downright getting flustered by the sudden question for your liking.

"what is it?"

"nevermind." you mumbled quietly after taking a few seconds to take away your question to the blonde.

"y/n, what is it?" you were speechless for the first time because of him, not even knowing what other words to say. a soft chuckle escaped your lips by his current state, now it's your turn to study him. ricky watched you walk up the stairs to be on the same level as him, getting a quick glimpse of your slightly messy hair, your sweet scent greeting his nose along the way. you then stopped, standing on top of a single step to make yourself taller as it made ricky look up at you, the silence of the room embracing the two of you placidly.

“nothing.”

and with that, you backed up away from the blonde and went inside your shared bedroom.

that was a close call.

——————————————————————————

sitting up as you began removing your hair away from your face, looking at the wall clock, seeing that it's late already. thinking that he's already on his way to work, you got yourself ready for the day and headed down stairs, praising yourself on not getting lost inside ricky’s gigantic house. wanting to do a detour when your eyes landed at ricky eating his breakfast when you arrived at the kitchen, him using his other hand to use his cellphone while the other was busy doing its job on feeding him, sitting on a barstool, he was wearing a red knitted sweater that brings out his jet black hair, still wearing the same sweatpants from last night. you want to walk away and just eat some food outside or order something but your stomach wouldn't last long. you don't know why you're acting like this around him even though he was being surprisingly nice to you, maybe it's because you're new to this sudden change of lifestyle and finally living with somebody, for the past years you would sleep alone with only the darkness as your companion, eating alone only with your fork and spoon.

gathering yourself together you entered the kitchen fully, walking past ricky who had his eyebrow up like he's questioning your presence. still, ignoring him you grabbed two pieces of bread that caught your eyes, you suddenly stopped moving, this is not your kitchen so you don't know where everything else was stored. slapping your stupid brain for not functioning, you suddenly heard a chuckle from behind.

“thought you were lost again,” his voice spoke behind you, “just like the first morning you were here.”

a roll of your eyes made him scoff jokingly, ignoring his words. you took your plate and wanted to eat in the living room. your hand holding the perfectly stacked pancakes on your plate and the other hand holding a cup of orange juice.

"baby." you abruptly stopped in your tracks, the thumping on your chest will not stop anytime now.

when you held your place, he walked over to you and turned you around to face him.

ricky continuously walked closer to you with the result of you backing away slowly, you bumped your back to the sink counter and couldn't move any further away from him. he placed both arms on the counter, in between you for him to cage you in.

a smug smirk slipped ricky’s lips, licking them moist as his eyes settled down on your face.

"baby... you like the nickname? huh?"

"n-no.”

"no?

"yes.” a satisfied laugh soon escaped from the lips of the man in front of you, he just completely played with you.

with a pout of annoyance, you gathered the strength to push his arms away and moved to the side as a quick escape. ricky was surprised at first on how you managed to escape his embrace- was it even an embrace? no, it's a trap. it’s a trap to see how every time you push him away, he pulls you in easily, his eyes that look like it's drinking you slowly.

and that made you not step into the living room. you’d prefer to eat on the dining table anyway. hearing a notification and seeing your phone lit up, an email that was sent from your colleague, kim taerae to you.

"what is it?" a voice came out of nowhere, startling you as your gaze got trapped in ricky who happens to be standing right next to you, a glass of water on hand to show that he already finished eating his breakfast.

"a joint project will happen. the dates are not clear yet, and our boss gave me the authority to take care of it.” you sighed, looking down at your wrist watch to see the time. ricky took the time to steal a quick glance over his shoulder to look at you, a soft smile resting on his lips, almost like he's proud.

"you'll do great.”

"i hope so.?”

"you will.” he started watching the trees sway side to side by the calming blow of the wind, the leaves falling down from its branch swayed to touch the ground, you turned and looked at him. his eyelashes were long and soft whenever he would bat them down, his rosy and bow lips were wet when he ran his tongue over them.

words of encouragement from your husband himself.

——————————————————————————

that night when the joint project was happening. the nervousness inside your gut made you panic. the joint project was going in between your company and ricky’s company. if you wrote a report that was not that great, you surely will drop from your chief executive position then.

the blonde saw that you were fiddling with your fingers, staring into space. he was fixing his tie, watching you already dressed from head to toe in the black givenchy dress he made you wear that reached above your knees. he couldn’t lie, you are absolutely gorgeous. he was planning for the event today, he wanted to give out a special thanks to everyone and importantly to his family and you.

looking up from your spot inside the limo, your eyes landed at ricky who is sitting right beside you, his legs sprawled out while he leaned his head back making his adam’s apple on full view for you to see.

he had his eyes closed, there seemed to be a lot of stuff going on inside his mind because he began to wear a visible frown. you want to ask what's wrong with him, is it you? is it this event? or is it the fact that you're sitting right next to him?, you just can't read him.

"we should really act like a couple once we step out of this limo, there will be a lot of cameras and news reporters.” ricky stated the obvious, and just when the limo took a turn, your eyes caught sight of the venue from the outside, packed with people and cameras flashing like they're some fireworks. there he finally opened his eyes, the first thing his eyes saw was you looking at him, he could easily read you like an opened book, the way you would blink faster whenever he catches your gaze for you to just break them, and the way you nervously bit down your lip by all of this sudden pressure of making a public appearance with him.

you nodded your head as you let out a heavy sigh, grabbing your purse when the vehicle put into a stop. ricky unbuckled his seatbelt and so did you.

when he opened the door and stepped out, greeting you with his warm smile as he held out his hand for you, you smiled back sweetly when you noticed some cameras flashing.

“smile for the camera.” he whispered near your ears, holding onto your waist as you both stepped out of the limo.

after taking some pictures, you both saw your friends and colleagues waiting for you at the sides. ricky noticed you looking at your friends and tapped your waist for you to look at him.

“we’ll see each other after the party.”

and with that, he was gone to meet his colleagues and other CEOS from other companies.

oh god, how tired were you tonight.

walking towards the chair where the blazer of his suit was but stopped after hearing your small grunts of defeat, eyebrows coming together in confusion but his face relaxed after realizing the situation that you're in.

"do you need help?" ricky asked you from the other side of the curtain, his shoes peeking through the small gap from below. you looked at yourself in front of the mirror, the dress fitted you like a glove but the only problem was the zipper at the back, it was so high, you couldn’t unzip it on your own.

you were awake for the first two hours of the drive, making use of yourself to keep ricky company inside the car because if it gets too quiet he might get tired and fall asleep without your attention, it was almost 2am.

ricky drummed his fingers to the steering wheel whilst opening the storage compartment between the two of you, taking out one of his glasses to shade his eyes from the bright sun. he looked so good, his slightly messy hair from all of the times he would run a hand through them, and now that he's wearing glasses that rests on the bridge of his sharp nose.

both the event and the drive was exhausting for the both of you.

“y/n,” ricky calls up to you and made you hum after he unzipped your dress, “you know i care for you, right?”

the sudden question caught you off guard, turning to look at him and felt that your heart thumped inside your chest when he came close to you. you never really questioned it but you did thought every single day that did he even care for you since he married you? you didn’t even know whether it was a yes or no.

“to be honest, i’m not sure. you’re always busy, i’m always busy so i never really thought of it. just when mother asked me to marry you. did you even-“

"i want to be a good man and see you smile," he started, straightening up his posture, the urge to see you happy itched his brain, remembering the picture of the two of you laughing beside the fountain that one day, the time where you helped him control a claw machine. knowing where this is leading yet everything goes following each other, watching as the both of you go round and round each time.

"and i want to hold you in my arms tonight."

ricky confessed, standing tall for his eyes to watch you mirror his actions. both trying to find answers in each other's eyes, you took in everything he just said, the bubbling feeling inside your stomach mentioning to you what to do. his voice was a trigger.

his eyes drifted down to your swollen lips on how much you bit them earlier, they were red as a rose along with your cheeks shining down the moonlight from the window beside you. fuck it.

cupping your cheeks and what ricky did next didn't surprise you at all, the feeling of his soft lips met yours, almost forgetting how they felt, he kissed them with so much passion. he’s taking over you slowly, you grabbed his nape and pulled him down so he could meet your height.

"baby.." he spoke up, stopping your actions with a warm cup on your cheek by his hand. the moment you locked eyes with him everything seemed to stop, the flutter inside your heart from his words earlier was still in you. the way he called you out made you love the nickname more than you usually do.

sighing, you settled on top of him and hugged ricky who returned the favor to cuddle you under everything that just happened. both hearts beating right next to each other to create a calm euphoria.

"baby" the sound of his tender voice caught your attention, it almost sounded like a whisper.

"yes?" what is it?" you returned, turning your head to look at him, thinking that he was asking you for some help or anything.

"i love you" those three words never failed to make your heart go feral for it also came from ricky who said those to you.

"and I love you too." you came back, putting a tight smile for your lover.

say you love me.

a/n ! thank you so much for reading and giving me requests. i’m thankful that you guys enjoyed reading it and giving all the notes and support. i do not own any characters, music or pics given, will definitely work harder for the next ones !

signing out, miaaa hihi !

[daisies-daydreams]

Hi! Can I request of TF141 x Fem! Reader who is cold hearted when going in war but she kind snd smile when helping the civilians and children. Like the tf141 never see Y/n smile after joining the military. And when they see her smile the first time, they felt heart warm and almost cry see Y/n smile as an angel.

Take all the time you want. No need to rush.

Pairing: TF141 x Fem!Reader (Platonic)

Category: Fluff & Angst

Warnings: Suggestive Comments, Blood, Injuries, Swearing, Depictions of Child Labor

Word Count: 1.6k+

A/N: Hi! Thank you so much for your request! (I love your incorrect COD quotes btw, they’re so much fun to read! ☺️).

“Bliz”

That’s what you were known as when you were in the SAS. It was short for “Blizzard”, and that you were. Your taciturn and cold demeanor made other soldiers weary of your presence.

“We call her Blizzard cause ‘Ice Queen’ was just too damn long,” you remember on of your fellow soldiers remarking when he thought you couldn’t hear him. Hopefully, you wouldn’t have to deal with such idiocy now that you’ve been recruited into Task Force 141. When you walked into Captain John Price’s office and he congratulated you on being selected, he seemed a bit put off by your stern attitude.

“Thank you for this opportunity, Captain Price,” you replied, your lips in a straight line. The Captain gave you a small smile.

“We’re on the same team now. Just call me Price,” he said. You stood in place and straighter your shoulders.

“I prefer to call my fellow soldiers and superiors by their rank,” you explained with a flat tone.

Your introduction to the rest of 141 went about the same way.

“Hey there! Name’s Soap. Nice to have a new face on the team!” Soap beamed with an outstretched hand. You eyed him up and down, mouth curved in a frown.

“Thanks,” you muttered as you shifted in place. Soap’s hand twitched slightly as he lowered it to his side. He watched you introduce yourself to Ghost and Gaz before you brushed past them.

“Come on. We have a meeting in five,” you stated. The three men watched you walk towards Price’s office for the newest mission’s pre-briefing. Soap clicked his tongue before walking in the same direction with Ghost and Gaz, your frame already out of sight.

“I thought ‘Blizzard’ was just an exaggeration,” Soap muttered.

“She’s SAS-you know the shite she’s probably seen,” Ghost said. Soap sighed, his shoulders slumping.

“Not every girl’s gonna want to get into your pants, Johnny,” Gaz retorted. Soap scoffed.

“That’s not-“ Ghost and Gaz gave him a knowing, sideways glance. Soap huffed through his nose. “Ah, what do you know? Probably haven’t even held hands with a lass,” Soap waved. Gaz’s nostrils flared but he kept walking. The men rounded the corner and stepped into the office. You were standing at the other side of the room, your arms crossed and brows slightly furrowed. Soap could’ve sworn that he saw you narrow your eyes at him.

“Right. Let’s begin,” Price said. A thick layer of unease settled over the room during the prebriefing. Soap would glance over at you every once in a while. You were like a statue, your eyes glued to the Captain as he explained the ins and outs of the mission.

“Your objective is to infiltrate a weapons manufacturing plant in the town of Nahr. It belongs to one of Al-Qatala’s allies: the Riah Sharquia,” Price explained.

“The Eastern Wind?” you asked.

“Never heard of them,” Ghost added. Price nodded.

“They’ve been operating underground for the past ten years. Just announced themselves publicly about a few weeks ago,” he stated. You nodded, gaze intensely set on the Captain.

“Anyway, back to what I was saying. You are to capture the head of the western plant, Adil Malik, and interrogate him,” he continued. “Best to keep your wits about you: These bastards have the region in an iron grip. They’ve been taking local people and forcing them to assemble their weapons…mostly children,” he continued. Your face twisted into a deep scowl, hands clenched into tight fists. It didn’t go unnoticed by Soap.

“Wheels up at seventeen-hundred tonight,” Price said with a nod. Time flew by quickly and before he knew it, Soap was sitting next to you on the flight. You were sandwiched between him and Ghost, the two imposing men towering over you even as you sat down. Gaz sat nearby along with some other soldiers crowded in the bay. Soap leaned over with a cheeky grin.

“Hey, Bliz,” he smiled. You kept your gaze forward, lips sealed tightly. “What smells like red paint but is blue?” Soap snickered. Ghost rolled his eyes, as if he were one to talk about bad jokes.

“Blue paint,” you replied shortly with a straight face. Soap twisted his lips.

“Yeah that’s…that’s right,” he muttered awkwardly. Some soldiers across from you whispered, only to cease when they realized your icy gaze was locked on them. Soap sighed and leaned back as much as he could.

It was going to be a very long flight.

+++

You pushed through the rickety door, splinters flying across the room.

“BLIZ! YOU BETTER GET YOUR ARSE BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!” Ghost barked. You gasped at the sight before you: a group of children huddled together in the corner of the filthy sweatshop. You heard the lieutenant rush up behind you. His eyes widened when he saw the group of gaunt faces.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he seethed while clenching his fists. You stepped forward and pulled your black mask down, revealing a gentle look on your face. A small lump formed in the lieutenant’s throat as he watched you kneel down on one knee.

“It’s okay. We aren’t going to hurt you,” you cooed softly as you slowly held out your hand. A young boy shuffled forward, hesitantly slipping his hand into yours. You helped him up, causing the other children to mutter to each other.

“GHOST! BLIZ! GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE!” Gaz suddenly shouted over the coms. “THEY FUCKING RIGGED THE PLACE TO BLOW!” Both of you exchanged glances before looking back at the kids.

“Aitabieni,” you said calmly. Some children anxiously huddled near your side as you rushed them forward. Ghost surveyed the area before motioning to move.

“Soap, are the exits clear?” Ghost asked.

“Aye,” the Scotsman replied.

A sense of relief washed over you as you saw sunlight pour through a crack in the exit door. A sudden shriek pierced through the hallway, causing you to stop in your tracks. The other children ran past you as you whipped your head around. A young girl was crying as she held her bleeding foot, a shard of glass with crimson on it lying nearby.

“BLIZ! DON’T YOU DARE FUCKING STOP!” Ghost bellowed. You sprinted down the hallway, grabbing the child and scooping her into your arms as you rushed outside. Just as you reached the gate, you heard a rancorous crack behind you.

“(Y/N)!” Ghost shouted. You curled yourself over the small one, keeping your arms wrapped around their head. The shockwaves sent you tumbling forward. Rubble flew past you as you did your best to shield her from the blast. You held onto the child tightly as the ringing in your ears continued to bombard you. The smoke and embers were searing hot as they cascaded from what remained of the building. You coughed when the dust finally began to settle.

You looked down in your arms, relieved to see that the child was still breathing. The young girl had her face nuzzled into your chest, hands white-knuckling your shirt as she sobbed. You heard Ghost's muffled shouting as he ran towards you, helping you while Soap took the little girl. You tried to stand, only to fall on the ground. The world was spinning as Ghost picked you up in his arms.

“Make sure they’re safe,” you smiled weakly before your vision suddenly went black.

+++

You gasped as you shot upwards on a hard surface. You groaned as a throbbing pain shot through your skull. A dark haired man stood near you, his lips curving into a smile when he locked eyes with you.

“She’s awake!” he sang, his voice slightly muffled. You grunted as you tried to sit up, only to fall back down on the scratchy mat.

“Easy there, Bliz,” Soap said as he came to kneel by your side. You blinked a few times, your vision becoming less blurred.

“Where…what?” your voice croaked. Ghost and Gaz stood in the corner, their attention quickly shifting from their conversation over to you. All of you were in a small room, a lamp dimly lighting up the space. You trailed your fingers over your head, feeling at the blood-soaked bandages.

“You took quite the spill out there,” Soap said. He tilted his head towards the man who was preoccupied with preparing some medicine. “Doctor Kaan said he wasn’t too keen to taking in outsiders-but since you saved his wee lass, he made an exception,” the soldier beamed. A small face suddenly appeared behind the unknown man. Your eyes widened when you realized it was the young girl you had rescued from the hallway. She smiled sheepishly as the man turned and patted her head. He swiveled back to look at you, a wide smile on his face and tears in his eyes.

“Thanks to you, my little Emel has come back to me,” he choked. The girl tugged on his shirt. He chuckled as he brought her into his arms, kissing her forehead gently. The doctor stepped closer, holding your hand and shaking it. “Thank you, thank you,” he sobbed repeatedly. Your cheeks tinted with pink as the corners of your mouth finally curved into a complete smile. Soap felt his heart flutter as he stared at your soft, angelic face. Even the corners of Ghost’s eyes crinkled, and Gaz couldn’t help but crack a small grin. Your face truly shined like the sun when you smiled.

“Anything for the little ones,” you beamed.

+++

Epilogue

Soap watched you with a bright smile as you kicked the football back to a group of kids. They giggled and went on with their game. The empty streets before were starting to bustle back to life. Ghost and Gaz were…busy at the moment. Soap strode over to where you were seated. Your peaceful expression shifted into a slight frown.

“What is it, Sergeant MacTavish?” you asked bluntly. His shoulders bounced as he slid next to you.

“You know you can just call me Soap, right?” he nudged your arm. You rolled your eyes, only to flinch when the ball came flying towards you. Soap reached his hands out, catching it just inches from your face. You blinked as he chuckled and threw it back to the kids.

“How’d you do that?” you asked. He looked at you with a glint in his eye.

“I might have a tad bit of practice,” Soap hummed. You gave him an unreadable expression before turning back to the game.

“Thank you…Soap,” you murmured while looking forward. He grinned.

“Anytime, bonnie”.

————

Thank you for reading! ❤️

@silverwolf-108

[osworld9]

Walk in Cold Rooms Manufacturers mumbai

Walk-in Cold Room

[tannedalien]

Hey lovely

Can I request a Glamrock Bonnie and afab reader nsfw pls

Like reader is bantering with Bonnie while fixing him only to discover that he’s secretly sensitive inside especially his wires~ and the reader teasing him all day long

YES YES YE SUEUEYSSYSUUWID

ofcourse my luv, I’ll do this for you.

Glamrock Bonnie x AFAB reader. || NSFW ||

Note: this doesn’t follow the plot of the FNAFSB game, this is just my fantasy land. Please suggest any fics you think I should do in the future. And if you want part twos to anything let me know:)

It’s always a long day working for the glam rocks, the layout of the place is confusing and the hours are exhausting but going down to Bonnies bowling alley was always a relaxing part of the job for you. The room felt so cooling and the lights made you feel like a little kid again, but the best part was seeing your favourite bunny there.

“Y/N! What did I do to see you today?”

You laughed walking up to his tiny stage, hands on your hips.

“I heard a kid was being a little too rough with you, I want to check your wires just in case they’ve been damaged”.

He nodded, giving you a smile. You didn’t want to admit it but as you have previously worked on Bonnie, you could the manufacturers had not put as much effort into making Bonnie in comparison to the other glam rocks.

“Alright. Aslong as I get to spend more time with you!”

He never failed to make you blush, his sweet Aussie accent just smoothes all of your worries. You both walked to parts and service, talking along the way.

You entered the elevator to parts and service, it was a little cramped in there with your back against the bottom of Bonnies stomach, he was huge compared to you. You have to admit, the height difference definitely made you feel some sort of way.

You both walked into parts and service and you opened the operation dome for the bunny to go in and lie down. You sat down next to him and opened his hatch, your hands wandering inside.

“N-ngh.. please be c-careful..”

Your eyes shot up to his face, what did you just hear? Does this make him feel sensitive? WHAT WAS GOING IN??

“A-ah, I’m sorry bunny but I have to be a little rough with these, they’re all messed up.”

He let out an agitated sigh, clenching his huge fists. You moved your hands deeper, working on getting these wired out of your way. Little did you know that the tent in his pants was getting bigger and bigger by each second.

“Y/N, please, can you be more gentle-mMN!”

His body shot up, moving your hands away from his chest cavity. He grabbed your hands, it was obvious now that he really wanted you to stop.

“My sweet little bunny, I understand that this is your job, but how would you like it if a fairly attractive person was all up in your chest area? Can’t imagine you’d be able to keep still either”

You brushed, starring at him. His hands left yours, trailing up and down your shirt.

“B-Bonnie, come on! I’m trying to help you-“

“Look at me, I’m just fine. But I think you need a check up”

He smirked grabbing your hips. Your head went all fuzzy, you felt so overwhelmed under his touch. You said nothing, just kept your eyes locked with his.

His finger went underneath your shirt, slowly lifting the hem up enough so he could see your bra.

“Mm, you’re so beautiful bunny”

His finger went behind you to unclasp it, don’t get me wrong, he loved seeing you in a bra, but he wanted to see what was behind it more.

Your nipples perked at the cold breeze in the room, your breath got heavier by the second.

“Mm.. Bonnie please-“

“haha bunny, I’m only trying to help”

He said, mimicking you. His hands wandered to your nipples as he started to rub them and make them even more sensitive than they usually would.

“A-ah..”

Your breath hitched, letting out a slight moan. This did something to Bonnie, his body couldn’t resist you. He needed you. Your smile, you’re pretty body, your hair and the way you managed to make him smile swooned him over and over again. He was captivated by you.

He let go of your breast and picked you up, placing you on the bed he was originally sat on. His fingers gliding up and down your thighs, resting on the hem of your pants. His eyes looked as if they wanted to rip them off which if your being honest, would be so fucking hot, but alas, you need these pants. He pulled on your pants, trying to not make you uncomfortable but wanting to make this feel sensual for you.

As he moved your pants to the slide, his hands swiftly glided to your legs as he parted them, revealing your sweet spot between them. Even though you had underwear on, Bonnie could see how wet you where and my god did it turn him on even more.

“You’re so wet my little bunny, do you like what I’m doing to you?”

You nodded as you bit on your fingernail, nervous but excited. His finger skimmed across your clit making your hips jolt from the sudden action. He let out a chuckle and started to remove your underwear.

His eyes widened when seeing the beautiful scene right in front of him, the tent in his pants throbbing with anticipation.

“Fuck, bunny, I need you right now.”

With that, he let out his member, making you stare enticingly at how large it was.

He placed it at the entrance of your hole, and kissed your neck, holding your hips for support. He slowly pushed in, hearing your whimpers he went slower, trying to ease the pain.

“I’m sorry bunny, it will only hurt for a second I promise”

Your back arched as he slid in, his hands moving to your lower back to keep you supported.

After a while of getting you adjusted, he starting moving, replacing your pain with pleasure. Your mind got foggy as his grunts and breathy moans filled your senses.

Your moans drove him insane.

“That’s it.. fuck you’re such a good little bunny for me”

He loved the way you made him feel. Your beautiful body trembling underneath made him fall more and more for you.

His hands traveled up your body, fondling your breasts. His head coming down to kiss your vulnerable skin.

“Mm gonna cum”

You said lazily as You’re body was ready to give out. His eyes lit up.

“Yes bunny please, cum for me”

He started to pound harder into you, his fingers gliding down to your clit, making the sensation better.

Your back arched, Bonnie put his nose up to your chest as he felt you let go all over him, following your actions it didn’t take long for him to finish with you.

He let out a breathy sigh and kissed your forehead.

“Thank you little bunny, why don’t we get you all cleaned up?”

His smile never failed to soothe you. Your warm body against his made you feel safe.

“Yes, we should but I don’t think my legs can walk all that way haha..”

He leaned over you, hands beside you.

“I guess I’ll just have to carry you then, show everyone your mine”

THE END.

Who’s excited for the fnaf movie bc I got my whole family excited for it 😍😍

[lilbabypanda-blog2]

Two sides of a Gem

Aventurine x (stoneheart)reader

Preview [ Part1 ]

Reader will be known as ruby, will appear as a male stoic and monotone. But it's actually just a puppet. No one knows where the real ruby is and what she's up to, she just let's her puppet do her work, and most people only know the puppet as ruby and not her true self, Aventurine will meet the real ruby known as Y/N:

A.N: it's not proofread, and English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes

Aventurine sat in the chair his office, playing around with a poker chip between his fingers while he let out a sigh seeing the stack of paperwork a colleague just dropped on his desk, he'd rather do anything else than that, he will have to take care of it eventually. After a few minutes of glaring at the stack of documents he reluctantly picked the first paper reading its contents as a knock on the door disrupted him, he looked up as the door opened and his secretary walked in "I'm sorry to disturb you Mr.Aventurine, but opal has called all stonerhearts to a meeting in 20 minutes"

Aventurine let's out a sigh, before showing his usual smile

"Alright, finally an excuse to not do this paperwork, thank you for informing me, your dismissed"

His secretary nodded and turned to leave the office closing the door behind her.

Aventurine got up and stretched, he checked his phone for any messages, before making his way out the office.

"AVENTURINE!" an angry voice came from behind

As he turned around he was met with an very angry topaz,

"You made me invest in this failed project on purpose didn't you!"

Aventurine held up his hand in mock surrender smirking "what makes you say that, I would never"

"Don't act all suprised you did this on purpose!" She pointed her finger at him

"I swear when I told you about the investment the project was doing well" he chuckled which made topaz even angrier, she opened her mouth but was stopped by jade " now now are you two fighting again?"

"Madam jade" topaz greeted her

"You two fight like little kids" a monotone voice chimed in.

Next to jade stood ruby, a tall man with red hair and redish eyes in his usual stoic demeanor, he just shook his head and walked past them towards the meeting room.

Topaz frowned "sometimes I'm asking myself if he's even human he's so ...cold..."

Aventurine chuckled "makes him kinda terrifying"

Jade chuckled, "well, good looking, strong, smart and terrifying, a good combination if you ask me, makes the job easier"

Everyone took their seats as opal entered the room.

"Good morning everyone, I'm glad you all made it" opal glanced at ruby then walked up to his seat and sat down.

"Let's begin, diamond and I looked over your recent projects, most of them have been very successful, aventurine and ruby, both of you managed high risk projects and completed them successfully". Aventurine smirked, playing with his poker chip. "Well, seems like I have quite the competition, completing high risk, and dangerous projects" he smirked at ruby who just stared back at him.

Opal cleared his throat and began assigning the new projects to each stoneheart

" Signal transmissions from Jarilo-VI have been detected by the IPC, Due to it's isolated and dangerous natural environment, Jarilo-VI lost contact with other worlds after the appearance of the Cancer of All Worlds."

He pointed to the documents he had distributed to each Stoneheart.

"We need someone to go down there and collect the overdue dept, and secure some properties for the IPC".

While the other stonehearts began to discuss the case topaz read the documents in silence, something about Jarilo-VI situation reminded her about her own home, That planet was extreme resource-poor. Therefore people need to worked laboriously, manufacturing product to created an export products to other civilizations in the universe. Most insisted on chemical and heavy industries. Which slowly turn planet to become a toxic environment. People with enough money buy tickets to leave a planet while the rest were waited for their death.

Until one day The IPC came to her home planet and use their technology to heal damaged environment. As an payment, all of the planet inhabitants become IPC employees. In only a few years after the contract, the planet biosphere is healed completely. She made up her mind "I'll take this case"

The other stonehearts turned to her in suprise. "That planet seems like a waste of time" Sugilite looked at topaz and closed the documents uninterested. "But it wouldn't be fair to simply ignore Jarilo-VI situation" pearl chimed in.

Aventurine leaned back in his chair "Jarilo-VI is is a high-risk, low-reward case, why bother to take it on. Your kind heart can be more of a liability than an asset in cases like this, dont you agree ruby?" Avebturni adjusted his glasses and smirked at ruby who's been quiet till now. The attention of the room shifte all gazes fell on ruby waiting for an answer "Jarilo-VI is indeed a high risk project, but, if topaz is confident in her abilities I don't see why she shouldn't try it"

Jade chuckled "I agree with ruby, if topaz wishes to take over the Jarilo-VI project, let her do it"

"Alright that settles it then, topaz will take over the Jarilo-VI project " opal declared "as for aventurine, we have an opertunity to reclaim what once belonged to the ipc, we received an invitation for the upcoming charmony festival in penacony, that seem like the right job for you don't you think?"

Aventurine tossed his poker chip in the air "quiet the risky gamble, high risk high rewards" he chuckled as he caught the chip.

Opal ended the meeting and everyone gathered to leave.

"Ruby, wait" called out to him as he stopped in his tracks and turned around. She walked up to him "thank you ...if you haven't spoke in my favor I probably wouldn't have gotten the chance to take the Jarilo-VI project"

Ruby stared at her for a moment "no need to thank me, if your confident in your abilities to handle this project there's no reason to deny you the opertunity, though, if you fail the consequences are on you" Tooaz smiled up at him "Don't worry I'm aware of the risks and consequences".

"Very well, good luck then" ruby nodded before turning around and walking off.

"I really advise against taking this project" Aventurines voice cut through the silence" topaz looked at him sharply "like you advised me to invest in this failed project" Aventurine chuckled "Oh come on your still mad about this".

............................

Later that night:

Ruby leaned against the wall of his living room gazing out the window as he recounted today's events to the other person on the call.

"Penacony huh?" A feminine voice mused on the other side of the line "so what are you planning to do?" Ruby asked "it's indeed very risky but I could ..."

He heared a chuckled from the other side of the line "no no, I'm sure they won't just let two stonerhearts check into the hotel, so leave this one to me, I'll be there anyways"

"Understood"

[kim-jongin-s]

svt fic recs (mostly nc-17; minwon, jeongcheol, wonchan + other)

MINWON

"🥀 service 🥀". au: waiter!mg. oneshot, 4k. nc-17.

Working the VIP room at a restaurant, Mingyu accidentally makes a mess of the rich patron's expensive suit, however Wonwoo saved Mingyu from getting fired and offers him even more.

"back 2 u (am 01:27)". au: football player!mg. oneshot, 6k. nc-17.

Mingyu breaks up with Wonwoo. They don't stop seeing each other.

"regal love". royalty!au: commander!ww, emperor!mg, omegaverse: beta!ww, alpha!mg. oneshot, 8k. pg-13.

"Sica wouldn't be under our rule if it wasn't for you. And that's why I would like to appoint you as the Minister of the province."

Dark eyes stared up at the emperor, lips pulled into a polite smile that never reached his eyes. Raven eyes that saw too much and lips that spoke too little. "I'm afraid I would have to turn down the offer your highness. Sica doesn't have you."

"in your orbit". band!au. oneshot, 8.6k. nc-17.

Wonwoo nearly kisses Mingyu on stage and even though Mingyu's dreamt about the moment for so long, it was never like this. He does the only logical thing—run away.

"bloodstained". fantasy!au: vampire!ww, werewolf!mg. 5 chapters, 49k. nc-17.

When he meets Wonwoo for the first time, Mingyu is about to die.

"what is it to burn". omegaverse: omega!ww, alpha!mg. 15 chapters, 103k. nc-17.

Mingyu isn't the only one with a secret. Wonwoo is the sole omega in the group of thirteen—a truth he's always kept concealed from the public.

When a dire situation arises, the boundaries between friendship and something more begin to blur.

JEONGCHEOL

"like a tsunami". college!au, oneshot, 1k. nc-17.

What's wetter? The shower or..?

"hate that you know me so well". oneshot, 5k. r.

Seungcheol wants Jeonghan. The group knows it. The fans know it. And it'd be great for everyone if Seungcheol could just god damn admit it.

"the dance of sea monsters and mermaids". office!au. oneshot, 12.5k. nc-17.

Competitors have been asking how Coupsmetics gets ahead of branding and market, when the only differences of their brands are subtle alterations of formula.

“A magician never spills his secrets.” Seungcheol would only offer a polite smile before he looks over to Secretary Yoon.

"tornado warnings". oneshot, 20k. pg-13. ♡

This was Jeonghan’s idea, and Seungcheol has the texts to prove it. Jeonghan is almost always the one calling for these things: let’s go eat, Cheolie-yah. Let’s take a walk, Seungcheol-ah. The lake is pretty, isn’t it? Let’s sit for a while, Seungcheolie. Seungcheolie—it’s cold. Give me your sweater.

And Seungcheol caves, and caves, and only offers the amount of resistance it takes to make Jeonghan smile again.

WONCHAN

"(i) put a spell on you". omegaverse: alpha!ww, omega!dn. oneshot, 7k. nc-17.

Wonchan are extremely, nastily obsessed with each other, and get nastier after a drought: the fic.

"love's awakened root". omegaverse: alpha!ww, omega!dn. oneshot, 9k. nc-17.

"I'm spending your rut with you," Chan says to Wonwoo. "Right?"

OTHER

"feelin' so hot (i got the fire)". soongyu. oneshot, 3k. nc-17.

Soonyoung hasn’t been touched in months. When he finally has a day off (and plans out a little self-care), he’s interrupted by a desperate call from Mingyu asking for help with the latest choreography. It won’t take long, right?

"everlasting arms". verkwan. omegaverse: omega!sk, alpha!vn. oneshot, 4k. nc-17.

Hansol's hoodies are missing. All of them.

"pretty please". seoksoon. omegaverse: omega!hs, omega!dk, rule 63. oneshot, 5k. nc-17.

For everything that leads her to fuck Jihoon's sister, Soonyoung blames heats. Heats, plural, as a concept. Heats for lesbian omegas, more specifically.

"a prayer for spring rain". jeonghan/wonwoo/dk. wolf!au: omega!jh, alpha!ww, beta!dk. oneshot, 7k. nc-17.

Wonwoo is no ordinary alpha. He wants something he will never get. That is until Seokmin and Jeonghan approach him with a proposition.

"all this manufactured desire". seokcheol. magical realism: sex pollen. oneshot, 10k. nc-17.

Seokmin braces himself, and he feels Seungcheol do the same, even without looking. Even while they both pointedly don’t look at each other.

“It’s some sort of lust spell, inducing feelings or urges so strong until it becomes unbearable,” Seungkwan says in a remarkably steady tone of voice, all things considered. "The, uh, only solution is to…fuck it out.”

"warm blood (underneath your skin)". jigyu. au: camboy!mg. oneshot, 11k. nc-17.

Jihoon’s skin prickles as he watches because all he can do is watch. Electricity lights up his muscles in a way that screams “reach out and take”, and it’s the inability that’s burning him up. He doesn’t normally feel this way watching Mingyu.

"if we don't do it, i can imagine it". seokwoo. roomate!au, gamer!ww, camboy!dk. oneshot, 26k. nc-17. ♡♡

Everything’s fine. Wonwoo might be in the process of developing a porn addiction and he’s certainly going to die alone and pining, but everything’s fine.

"in danger of a true romance". gyushua. au. 5 chapters, 33k. nc-17. ♡♡♡

When his best friend gets engaged after Joshua goes through a string of bad breakups and worse first dates, he swears off of dating. Unfortunately, the universe (and Jeonghan) has other plans. The man of honor he's supposed to plan this wedding with may look like Joshua's type on the surface (tall and eager), but he's a romantic -- and Joshua learned the hard way that romance isn't something he gets.

[s4svnn]

Out of bounds . JJK

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; his love subjected you to the true extent of deception, a merciless lie wrapped in the illusion of paradise, until the truth tore it apart - he was always out of bounds.

↳ Jungkook x reader

↳ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: ongoing

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

Chapter Twenty Two

The low hum of machinery greeted me as I walked into the expansive manufacturing wing of the design company. The air smelled faintly of metal, oil, and fresh leather, and the large overhead lights cast a bright sheen over the nearly finished car sitting in the center of the room. My car—or, rather Jungkook’s.

The sight of it sent a mixture of pride and anxiety coursing through me. This was the culmination of months of work, countless sleepless nights, and hours upon hours of pouring my heart into every detail. And now, I was here to oversee the final stages of its creation.

Workers moved swiftly around the room, their movements practiced and precise. Each of them had a specific task to complete, and despite the occasional buzz of conversation, there was an air of focused determination. I could feel the weight of their dedication, and it made me stand a little taller. This wasn’t just my accomplishment—it was ours.

As I walked closer to the car, my breath caught. Even under the industrial lighting, it looked stunning. The sleek lines of the exterior, the way the shape of it seemed to embody both power and elegance—it was everything I had imagined and more. I circled the car, my eyes scanning over the interior through the slightly ajar door.

The seats were perfectly crafted, their stitching precise and clean. The dashboard was minimalistic but functional, with a subtle touch of sophistication. Everything about it screamed luxury, but not in an overwhelming or gaudy way. It was balanced.

I exhaled slowly, a faint smile forming on my lips. Seeing it in front of me, so close to completion, filled me with a sense of accomplishment I hadn’t felt in years.

“Excuse me,” I called softly to a worker nearby, a middle-aged man hunched over a leather seat, inspecting the stitching.

He glanced up at me and immediately straightened, brushing his hands against his uniform. “Yes, ma’am?”

I gestured toward the car. “How’s everything coming along? Any issues I should be aware of?”

The man smiled faintly, his face lined with both age and experience. “It’s coming along well. We’re finishing the interior fittings now, making sure everything is secure. Once that’s done, we’ll do a final check on the engine and electronics. Shouldn’t be much longer now.”

I nodded, impressed. “That’s great to hear. You’ve all done an incredible job. It’s one thing to see it on paper, but to see it here…” I trailed off, gesturing toward the car. “It’s amazing.”

His smile grew a little wider, a hint of pride in his expression. “Thank you, ma’am. That means a lot coming from you.”

I spent the next hour moving around the room, talking to the workers, asking questions, and offering input where it felt necessary. Each person I spoke to was polite and respectful, but there was also a quiet pride in the way they discussed their work. They weren’t just building a car—they were bringing my vision to life.

But just as I began to feel a sense of ease, the sound of the door opening cut through the room.

It wasn’t a loud sound, but it was enough to stop everyone in their tracks. The workers who had been bustling about suddenly froze, their conversations dying mid-sentence. All eyes turned toward the entrance as a man in a sharp black suit and dark sunglasses stepped inside.

The air shifted immediately. There was an unspoken tension that seemed to ripple through the room, and I couldn’t help but glance around, confused.

One by one, the workers began to bow, their heads lowering in a show of respect.

I stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Who was this man, and why was everyone acting like this?

The man’s gaze swept across the room, cold and assessing, before landing on me. His expression hardened, and he raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.

“Do you have any manners?” he asked sharply, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife.

I blinked, caught completely off guard. “I—uh—”

Before I could say anything coherent, the worker next to me leaned in, his voice low. “That’s the CEO,” he whispered urgently.

My stomach dropped. My eyes widened as realisation dawned, and I immediately bowed deeply, my heart pounding in my chest. “I’m so sorry, sir,” I stammered, my voice shaking slightly.

The CEO didn’t respond. He didn’t even acknowledge me, his gaze already moving past me as he walked further into the room. His presence was commanding, and the sound of his polished shoes against the floor seemed unnaturally loud in the tense silence.

He stopped in front of the leading worker, a tall man who looked visibly nervous under the CEO’s gaze.

“How’s the car?” the CEO asked, his tone clipped and to the point.

The worker swallowed hard before answering. “It’s on schedule, sir. We’re just finalising the details now.”

The CEO’s lips pressed into a thin line. “It better be perfect,” he said coldly. “If there’s a single flaw, you’ll all be out of a job. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” the worker said quickly, bowing his head.

The CEO lingered for a moment longer before turning back toward me. His expression was unreadable behind his sunglasses, but I could feel his gaze on me as he approached.

“And who the hell are you?” he asked, his tone sharp and demanding.

I straightened up, forcing myself to meet his gaze despite the lump forming in my throat. “I’m the designer of this car, sir,” I said, keeping my voice steady.

For a moment, he said nothing. Then, slowly, a smirk formed on his lips. “So, you’re the girl Jeon took pity on.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I opened my mouth to respond, to defend myself, but no words came out. I was too stunned, too confused.

The CEO didn’t wait for a response. He turned and walked away, his presence lingering in my mind long after he left the room.

I stood there in silence, his words echoing in my head. Took pity on me? What did he mean by that?

By the time the workers and I wrapped things up, the weight of the interaction was still pressing heavily on my chest. I thanked the team for their hard work, offering them a small smile despite the storm of emotions swirling inside me.

As I stepped out of the building, the cool evening air brushed against my skin, bringing with it a fleeting moment of clarity. The quiet hum of the city in the background, the faint scent of rain lingering from earlier in the day—all of it felt distant, like the world was moving around me but I wasn’t really part of it.

I paused for a moment, standing on the pavement, trying to steady my breathing. I should’ve gone straight to Jungkook’s house. That was the plan. But my feet felt heavy, unwilling to move in that direction. Instead, as if pulled by some invisible thread, I found myself wandering aimlessly toward a nearby park.

The park was deserted, the fading light of the evening casting long, soft shadows across the pathways. Everything was painted in shades of orange and purple, the sky above shifting into the twilight. There was a tranquility here, a stillness that felt almost sacred, but it did nothing to ease the storm brewing inside me.

I spotted a bench tucked beneath a tall oak tree, its branches stretching out like arms offering solace. Without thinking, I sank onto it, the weight of the day pressing down on me. Leaning back, I closed my eyes, hoping for even a brief reprieve from the chaos in my mind.

But there was no escaping it.

It all came rushing back at once—the piercing disappointment in my mother’s voice when I first told her I wanted to be a designer, the sharp sting of her words as she dismissed my dreams as childish and impractical. I could still hear her telling me that I was throwing my life away, that I would regret wasting my potential.

And then there was the CEO. The way he looked at me, as if I was nothing. As if my presence there was an insult. His words replayed in my mind on an endless loop.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. Was that really how people saw me? Someone to be pitied? Was all of this—my work, my effort, my passion—just some act of charity in their eyes?

The thought made my chest tighten, the air around me feeling suddenly suffocating. I groaned softly, leaning forward and burying my face in my hands.

I had worked so hard to put myself out there, to prove that I was more than what people thought of me. But no matter how far I came, it felt like there was always someone ready to tear me down, to remind me that I wasn’t good enough. That I didn’t belong.

The more I thought about it, the heavier it felt, like a weight pressing down on my chest, making it harder and harder to breathe. My eyes stung with the threat of tears, but I forced them back, refusing to let them fall.

I pushed myself to stand, hoping that moving would help clear my mind. My steps were slow at first, the crunch of gravel beneath my feet barely registering. I focused on the sound, letting it ground me, each step a small reminder that I was still here, still moving forward, even if it felt like the world was trying to pull me back.

The trees around me swayed gently in the evening breeze, their leaves rustling softly like whispers of comfort. I tried to focus on that—the beauty of the moment, the quiet rhythm of nature—but it was like trying to hold onto water. Every time I thought I had a grip on it, it slipped through my fingers, leaving me with nothing but my thoughts.

The sky was darker now, the last remnants of sunlight fading into the horizon. The park was growing quieter, the faint sound of crickets beginning to fill the air. I stopped walking, taking a deep breath and letting the cool air fill my lungs.

But then, a quiet sob caught my attention.

Turning toward the sound, I saw a little girl sitting on the edge of a fountain, her shoulders shaking as she cried.

I hurried over, crouching down beside her, my heart squeezing at the sight of her small, trembling frame. “Hey, sweetheart,” I said softly, keeping my voice calm and gentle so I wouldn’t scare her. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

She sniffled, looking up at me with wide, tear-streaked eyes. Her face was flushed from crying, and she kept wiping at her nose with the back of her tiny hand. “I… I can’t find my mommy,” she said, her voice shaking as fresh tears welled up in her eyes.

“Oh no,” I murmured, feeling a pang of sadness for her. “It’s okay. We’ll find her, I promise. Can you tell me your name?”

“Sophia,” she whispered, hiccupping slightly.

“That’s a beautiful name, Sophia,” I said, offering her a small, reassuring smile. “I’m going to help you find your mom, okay? Do you remember what she looks like or what she’s wearing?”

She nodded, sniffing again as she rubbed at her eyes with her sleeve. “She… she’s wearing a blue dress. And she has long hair, like mine.”

I smiled softly, reaching out to gently touch her shoulder. “That’s really helpful. Thank you for telling me. Let’s walk around the park together, and we’ll find her in no time. Does that sound good?”

She hesitated for a moment, her big eyes searching mine for reassurance. Finally, she nodded and slipped her small, trembling hand into mine. I gave her hand a gentle squeeze, hoping it would make her feel a little safer.

We began walking slowly along the gravel path, my eyes scanning the park for any sign of a woman in a blue dress. The park wasn’t too crowded, but there were still enough people wandering around to make the search challenging. I could feel Sophia’s grip on my hand tightening with every passing moment.

“Do you come to this park often?” I asked, trying to distract her from her growing anxiety.

She nodded shyly. “Mommy and I come here after school sometimes,” she said, her voice small. “But today, I was playing on the slide, and then I couldn’t find her anymore.”

“It’s okay,” I said gently, my thumb brushing over the back of her hand. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Sometimes we just get turned around. But I promise we’ll find her soon, and everything will be okay.”

We continued walking, stopping now and then to look around. I crouched down once to check behind the playground equipment, but there was no sign of anyone matching her description. The more time passed, the more I could feel her unease.

“What’s your mommy’s name?” I asked, glancing down at her.

“Emma,” she said quietly, her grip tightening on my hand.

“That’s a lovely name,” I said with a smile. “You know, Sophia, you’re really brave. Not everyone would stay so calm in a big park like this. Your mommy is going to be so proud of you when we find her.”

She looked up at me, her tears momentarily forgotten as a tiny, bashful smile appeared on her lips.

We walked a little further when suddenly, a woman’s voice rang out, panicked and desperate. “Sophia! Sophia, where are you?”

Sophia froze, her head snapping up at the sound. Her eyes widened, and she let go of my hand, spinning around. “Mommy!” she cried, her small voice cutting through the air as she bolted in the direction of the voice.

A woman came running toward us from across the park, her face pale and tear-streaked, her hair disheveled as if she’d been frantically searching. She was wearing a flowing blue dress, and her eyes immediately locked onto Sophia.

The woman’s steps faltered for a brief moment, her body trembling as relief washed over her. Then she ran forward and scooped Sophia into her arms, holding her so tightly it was as if she was afraid to let go.

“Oh my God,” the woman sobbed, her voice breaking as she buried her face in Sophia’s hair. “I thought I lost you. I thought—” She couldn’t even finish her sentence, her words dissolving into quiet cries of relief.

Sophia clung to her mother’s neck, her tiny arms wrapping around her tightly. “I’m sorry, Mommy,” she whispered, her voice muffled.

“No, no, sweetheart,” the woman said, pulling back to cup her daughter’s face. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I was so scared…” Her voice cracked again as she pulled Sophia close once more.

I stayed back for a moment, watching the reunion with a soft smile. There was something so raw and beautiful about the way they held onto each other, as if the world around them didn’t exist.

Sophia eventually turned her head, pointing toward me. “Mommy, the pretty lady helped me. She found me.”

The woman’s tearful gaze shifted to me, and she took a hesitant step forward, still holding Sophia close. “You… you helped her?”

I nodded, feeling a little shy under her emotional gaze. “She told me she couldn’t find you, so we walked around the park together until we did. I’m just glad you’re both okay.”

The woman’s eyes filled with fresh tears, and she stepped closer, clutching Sophia with one arm while reaching out to me with the other. “Thank you,” she said, her voice trembling with gratitude. “Thank you so much. I don’t even know what I would’ve done if…” She trailed off, shaking her head as her voice broke.

I gave her a reassuring smile. “There’s no need to thank me. I’m just happy Sophia is safe and that you’re back together. That’s all that matters.”

The woman gave me a watery smile, her grip on Sophia tightening protectively. “Is there… is there anything I can do to repay you? Anything at all?”

I shook my head, feeling genuinely touched by her gratitude. “No, really. You don’t need to do anything. Just seeing you two together again is enough.”

She nodded, her expression softening as she looked at me. “Thank you,” she said again, her voice quieter this time but no less sincere.

With a final smile, I gave a small wave to Sophia, who waved back shyly before resting her head on her mother’s shoulder. They turned and walked away, their silhouettes bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun.

I watched them until they disappeared into the distance, a faint pang of something bittersweet tugging at my chest. For a moment, I let myself think about what it must feel like to have someone love you so fiercely, to hold you as if letting go was impossible.

A memory of my mother and I flashed through my mind—her laughing as she spun me around in the park when I was a child, the warmth of her embrace as she told me I was her little miracle. I couldn’t stop the small smile that spread across my lips.

But just as quickly, the smile faded. That version of her—the mother who adored me, who believed in me—felt like a distant dream now. The reality of her disappointment, her harsh words, and the cold distance between us slammed into me like a wave, leaving me breathless.

I shoved those thoughts aside, forcing myself to focus on the present. There was no point dwelling on what I couldn’t change.

The park had grown quieter, the sun now just a faint glow on the horizon. I turned toward the exit, shoving my hands into my pockets as I walked. My steps felt heavier, weighed down by the emotions swirling inside me, but for now I just needed to keep moving.

When I finally reached the front door of Jungkook’s house, I slipped inside as quietly as I could, the weight of the day pressing down on me like a heavy blanket. All I wanted was to sneak into my room, collapse onto the bed, and maybe sort through my tangled thoughts later. But the moment the door clicked shut, a voice rang out, sharp and cutting.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

I froze in place, my hand still on the doorknob. Slowly, I turned to see Jungkook standing in the hallway, his tall frame illuminated by the faint glow of the light above. His hair was a mess, as if he’d been running his hands through it repeatedly. He was dressed in a black tank top that showed the strain of his tense shoulders and joggers that hung low on his hips, but it was the look on his face that stopped me cold. His jaw was clenched so tight I could see the muscle twitch, and his dark eyes burned with fury—and something else I couldn’t place.

“Why weren’t you answering your phone?” he demanded, his voice low but brimming with restrained anger. Each word felt like it had been bitten out, dripping with frustration.

I blinked at him, too taken aback to respond right away. “I needed to get some air,” I said trying to move past him.

His brow furrowed deeper, his gaze hardening. “That’s your excuse?” He scoffed, his tone incredulous. “Do you have any idea how long you’ve been gone? How many fucking times I tried to call you? I—” He stopped abruptly, his lips pressing into a thin line as though he refused to finish the thought.

“I didn’t think it was a big deal,” I mumbled, avoiding his piercing stare.

“Not a big deal?” His voice rose slightly, his anger breaking through his usual composure. He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming. “Disappearing for hours without a word and ignoring your phone isn’t a big deal to you? Do you know how irresponsible that is?”

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” I snapped, my own frustration bubbling to the surface. “I just needed to be alone for a while, okay? Is that such a crime?”

He let out a sharp, humorless laugh, shaking his head. “It’s not about whether it’s a crime,” he shot back. “It’s about the fact that I’m responsible for you.”

That stopped me in my tracks. “Responsible for me?” I repeated, my voice laced with disbelief.

“Yes,” he said, his voice firm. “You’re working under me, which means your safety is my responsibility. And you disappearing like that without a word? It puts me in a position I shouldn’t have to be in.”

I stared at him, caught off guard by the sheer force of his conviction. But instead of backing down, my irritation flared. I didn’t need anyone to feel responsible for me—not after everything I’d been through. “I don’t need a babysitter,” I said sharply, crossing my arms over my chest. “And I definitely don’t need you to pity me.”

“Pity you?” His eyes flashed, and he took another step closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous low. “You think this is pity?”

“Isn’t it?” I countered, my voice trembling but defiant. “You’re acting like I can’t handle myself, like I’m some helpless kid you have to look after.”

“That’s not what this is,” he snapped, his frustration boiling over. “This is about you being reckless. Do you even realise how selfish that is? You didn’t think about anyone else—about how your actions might affect the people around you.”

For a moment, the only sound in the hallway was the sharpness of our breathing. His words cut deep, not because they were cruel but because they were true in a way I wasn’t ready to admit.

I shook my head, stepping back from him. “Stop with your fucking pity,” My voice cracked, but I refused to let him see the vulnerability clawing at me. “I don’t need it.”

His jaw tightened, the tension radiating off him in waves. “Again with this bullshit,” he growled, his voice sharp as a blade. “Stop putting words in my mouth. I don’t pity you.”

I scoffed, turning on my heel, trying to walk past him and toward the stairs. “Just leave me alone—”

Before I could take another step, his hand shot out, grabbing my arm with enough force to spin me around. His grip wasn’t painful, but it was firm, and it sent a shiver down my spine. His dark eyes burned into mine, his expression a storm of frustration and something I couldn’t quite name.

“Don’t act like a brat,” he snapped, his tone low but dangerous. “And stop twisting this into something it’s not. You want to keep throwing that word around? Fine. I’ll show you pity.”

I blinked, confused and alarmed. “What—”

“Move,” he interrupted, his voice leaving no room for argument.

I opened my mouth to protest, shaking my head instinctively. “No. I’m not—”

He turned his head sharply, his eyes narrowing as he looked back at me. His tone was like ice. “I won’t repeat myself.”

Something in his voice made my breath hitch. I exhaled sharply, my mind racing, but I forced my legs to move. My body betrayed me, drawn to the intensity radiating off him despite every warning screaming in my head.

I followed him up the stairs in silence, my heart pounding in my chest. His broad shoulders were tense, his muscles flexing with every step. When we reached his room, he pushed the door open with more force than necessary, stepping inside. I hesitated at the threshold, feeling a mix of trepidation and anticipation curling in my stomach.

“Inside,” he commanded, not even looking back at me as he stepped further into the room.

I bit the inside of my cheek, taking a shaky step inside. The moment I was in, he turned and shut the door behind me with a sharp click. The sound echoed in the tense silence, and I felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.

He didn’t say anything as he turned to face me. Instead, he grabbed the hem of his tank top and pulled it off in one fluid motion, tossing it aside. My eyes widened, immediately drawn to the ink decorating his skin, the way his muscles shifted and flexed with every movement.

“Get on the bed,” he said, his voice low and rough.

I froze, my breath catching. “Jungkook—”

“Do it,” he interrupted, his tone brooking no argument.

A part of me wanted to argue, to push back against his dominance, but another part of me—the part that was drowning in the overwhelming intensity of the moment—couldn’t move. Slowly, I took a step back, then another, until the backs of my knees hit the edge of the bed.

I sank down onto it, my mind spinning, my body trembling with a confusing mix of fear and desire.

He stepped closer, his eyes locked on mine, his gaze like a predator sizing up its prey. “You want to say that I took you in out of pity?” he asked, his tone mocking. “Then fine, I’ll fuck you like the pitiful bitch you are.”

I stared back at him, my chest rising and falling as a chaotic mix of fear and arousal tangled itself inside me. His gaze was unrelenting, pinning me in place, and I hated how much I wanted to crumble under it.

Every rational part of me screamed that this was wrong, that I shouldn’t be turned on by the dominance in his eyes or the subtle edge of danger in his voice, but my body betrayed me. It was maddening, the way my pulse quickened, the way heat pooled low in my stomach.

My breath hitched, my skin alive with anticipation, and before I could think, before I could stop myself or question the consequences, the words slipped past my lips like a challenge I wasn’t even sure I wanted to win.

“Do it then.”

[mrghostrat]

i was hoping to stream this afternoon but i woke with my shoulders hurting so bad that i have absolutely zero capacity for anything. to the point where i experienced my first autistic rumbles in the supermarket 🥸 but i have adhd meds now so maybe we can try tomorrow.

zita's suspected i'm on the spectrum for a little while now, but i've always been on the fence about it. there's a lot i don't relate to. but most of that is bc i have so much learned behaviour, and i mask really well. when i try to break down how i think for autism diagnostic quizzes, my gut reactions DO fit the bill, but they are so so so buried under 30 years of life experience that feels like it comes naturally.

but i am an introvert. an extreme introvert. even while living alone with my best friend, who i get on perfectly with and feel zero need to mask around, i still need to excuse myself and be left alone in my room from 10pm at LEAST.

so i only really unmask when i'm dead alone. even though i dont feel like i'm putting up any kind of front around of zita, i still do, automatically. the only time i see myself completely bare is when i'm alone and it's silent and there is absolutely nothing challenging my comfort.

sooooo hoooooo boy waking up in pain, with zero capacity to even finish a thought, still empty of ADHD medication because of the fuckin manufacturing shortage (thankfully today's trip into town was to finally pick some up! but that wasn't until noon), i got to see a side of myself i don't know if i've ever actually seen before? maybe as a kid but i can't remember specifically that far back?

i've been short tempered and overwhelmed and exposed to sensory nightmares whilst home alone before, but it's usually so quick bc i'm at HOME and i can adjust the situation and i never think much of it. i felt like a bluescreen at that supermarket today, popping in for less than 10 things across 3 aisles.

it was so busy. there were so many people. i felt dread just to walk through it, so aware of my own body and the space i had to inhabit. but par for the course so far. what was less par for the course was having to stop and look at my list every 3 steps, unable to put together a course of action in my head: chicken is on the far left, so we grab that first and get broccoli on our way to the soup aisle. but the broccoli is right there. do i grab that first, go get the chicken, but then double back from where i just came? i might get myself some bananas too, how do i fit that into my path—

i had to keep stopping and looking at my list because every item i thought of made me forget the previous one i just looked at. eventually got fed up with myself and went to the closest thing and started there, regardless of whether i'd have to double back or not. that's what trips me when i take these quizzes n shit. i can get over the hump and do the task in the end, so that must mean i'm totally allistic! no autism here.

i remember thinking "jesus christ this is bad" when i was on my way to get zita's soup (if you've read this far, thank you and kisses to you, pls send some loving vibes to zita by reading her fic i just reblogged, bc she's got a cold and is miserable today) so i was kinda aware i was having a bad sensory day. as expected: there were a lot of people there, and i was in pain. but i just short circuited looking at soup. zita gave me the brand name and soup type of 3 cans she wanted. and i went to the aisle i've been to a thousand times, found the brand, and just stared. it was all stew. all chunky brothy things with bits in. not a single creamy soup in sight, so, the soup must be somewhere else.

i came to that conclusion immediately but i couldn't. process it? or like, what to do with that information. the soup is somewhere else. OR IS IT? keep looking at this shelf to make sure, your eyes are tired, you might've missed it. there's like 20 different cans of campbells here, just keep reading them left to right until soup appears. still no soup? read them again, you might've missed it. maybe campbell's is out of soup? read every other brand here until you Don't see soup, then you can walk away and try somewhere else. but if you don't see any soup, read it again because you might've missed it.

thankfully it took all of 30 fuckin seconds for a store employee who was shelving next to me to see my glazed fuckin stare and ask if i needed a hand with anything. and i stammered through some "haha my silly eyes today!! haha thanks! sorry, thank you!" as she happily pointed like 3 metres down the aisle for me, while my internal monologue immediately raged like "wtf why would they put the soup that far away but also barely far away at all, what's the point, bad design 😡"

got soup. check list: packet of gravy. zita told me the gravy was in the same section as the soup. it was not. i walked up and down that aisle five times and there was no gravy. i just. i had completely forgotten how to problem solve. it was the strangest, most frustrating experience. like i was looking at an empty word document in my brain, with a little flashing cursor and everything, so i knew it hadn't frozen over. it was just empty.

i even had the thought "just walk up and down the aisles until you find gravy; you have to do this all the time" and even had ideas of which aisles to start with. but my brain said no. we're not going to walk around aimlessly, even if we have a neat little structure and path to follow. we were told (by myself, too) this would be a quick in out trip, pluck the known items off the shelf and beeline straight for the checkout. so meandering down aisles was for some reason non negotiable. i wasn't in a rush. i had nothing to do today. i barely even felt a rush to get out of there, as busy as it was. it just wasn't an option.

so rather than start solving that problem i just jumped to the next thing on the list. strepsils. text to ask what kind she wants, have a whine about my broken brain, ask if she knows where the gravy is. remember when i pass the hair brushes that i broke my hairbrush this morning and need a new one!! oh and i've been wanting new hairclips too. look at me picking a new hairbrush and poking through the hairclips for one that i know will feel comfortable against my scalp, i'm not autistic because i can change my plans and make decisions on the fly.

oops didn't mean for this post to be an entire play by play of my thoughts through this extremely bland grocery shop. i cannot believe how long i stood there choosing soup. the line at the self checkout was so long and i felt the dread kick up again. barely/silently whispered "oh god" to myself when i realised the line, but repeated it about 20 times to feel the tap of my tongue against the roof of my mouth before i realised i was doing it. stop that, don't mutter to yourself. but i'm standing still in a line and there's nothing left to (ineffectually) problem solve, so the second i stop i notice a weird little slice in the plastic around the trolley handle that i can't stop flicking my thumbnail against.

OK. we need to stim. heard, chef. just click your piercing ffs. your mouth might look weird when you do it but at least everyone can see you're just clicking your teeth against your piercing, rather than talking to yourself or damaging public property.

something made a noise, can't even remember if it was a child or a trolley or what, some loud sharp single high pitched screech a few metres away, and i jolted so hard i thought i felt like i was going to throw up. finally think, fucking hell i'm autistic today. my back hurts. which is making my head hurt. i want to go home and take my vyvanse.

[wooahaeruby]

Chapter 13: Sky Walking

Chapter Word Count: 5,435

TW

1) Mouse has Trauma 2) Use of drugs. Smoke weed everyday. Leafblower Special. 3) Mouse disassociates for a while 4) Mentions of ODing / Childhood Trauma / Cops suck in this story. (read at your own discretion) 5) Mouse and Someone else in SVT trauma bond. 6) At the beginning, Mouse goes through the numb depression motions.

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You didn’t get a single moment of rest. Each time you closed your eyes, the feeling of dried blood that you knew wasn’t there clung to your hands and the image of Mingyu’s body on the table as you gave him CPR flashed. The continuous beating line on the heart monitor gave you reassurance as the time passed. 

Just as Jeonghan said, Jihoon and him switched off duties of coming to check on Mingyu and change out bags of saline when the previous one was finished. At some point you gave up counting how often they came, staying curled up in your seat, glad to have the blanket wrapped around you in the cold room. Both had asked if you needed anything and each time you shook your head, falling deeper and deeper into your thoughts. 

He was going to be okay, you had a good feeling in your chest about it. He’d wake up and try to play everything off and act like he was fine when he was in a lot of pain. He’d complain that everyone’s cooking was subpar compared to his but would eat every last piece of it to make them happy. Maybe he’d let you cook for him and show off what you thought were pretty good cooking skills to give him well rounded meals during his recovery. Mingyu would need all the rest he could get before even stepping foot out of the house, knowing they’d take him back to the house to recover comfortably in his own bed. 

When the door opened next, you turned, thinking you’d see Jeonghan since Jihoon had checked in last, but Seungcheol stood at the doorway with a paper bag in one hand and a tray with two coffee cups in the other. He had changed from the suit he had on last night into dark jeans and an oversized gray sweater. Sitting up, you gave him a curious look but didn’t voice any question. He lumbered his way to the seats still across the bed from you and slid into one, placing the items he brought on one of the other chairs. 

“It’s six in the morning.” His deep voice was full of fatigue, the bags under his eyes dark. He didn’t look like he slept. “Seokmin grabbed your coffee order and a bagel.” Seungcheol lifted the paper bag and pulled one bagel out before handing the bag to you. Once the bag was in your hand, he took the coffee cup and passed it over. Hesitantly, you released Mingyu’s hand, you didn’t let go of it once throughout the night since you sat down. 

The hot cup felt amazing against your cold fingers. Taking a quick sip, it burned your mouth but it was too good to stop. The warmth spread through your limbs and your shoulders relaxed. 

“Seokmin put in that you both were sick and needed a few days off. Wonwoo manufactured some doctor’s notes.” 

“Thank you.” 

He grunted in response, drinking his own cup, letting his eyes land on Mingyu. “Anything?” 

With a quick shake of your head, you pulled your knees to your chest, using one hand to move the blanket around you. “Nothing. He’s breathing fine, he took two units of blood in total, heart rate hasn’t faltered all night.” 

“Did you get any sleep?” 

Pausing, you were going to answer but closed your mouth, chewing on your bottom lip. “I could ask the same of you.” 

“Touche…”

“Did anyone else?” You asked, sipping from your cup once more. 

Seungcheol sighed out a heavy breath. “Most of them passed out from exhaustion. Seokmin fell asleep in a chair, Soonyoung was curled up on the floor with all the couch pillows with Chan knocked out last I checked. Vernon took Seungkwan back to the penthouse once they left so hopefully they got some sleep. Joshua, Jeonghan, Wonwoo, and Jihoon are all passed out on the couches we have up in the office. I think Minghao and Junhui went back to the penthouse too, but I doubt they got any sleep.” 

“Does this…” You didn’t know how to word it. “Does stuff like this happen often?” 

“What, getting shot? We try not to make it a constant thing.” A smidge of humor was in his tired words. “Last one was Jihoon about a year ago. He was helping break up a fight in Ruby and the asshole had a gun and it misfired in the struggle.”  

Forcing out a breath, you nodded, shaking the mental image away. You thought of Jihoon in a similar situation as Mingyu last night and your already lost appetite was gone tenfold. Trying your best to mask the discomfort, you drank the coffee and focused back on Mingyu’s breathing. It seemed Seungcheol was doing the same, nibbling on a piece of the bagel he got and sipping his coffee. It wasn’t often you two ended up in the same place alone, usually someone was accompanying you at the house. 

“Oh-” You just remember that he literally had you brought over last night to speak with him. Seungcheol perked up. “Why was I needed last night?” 

Blinking a few times, his face contorted, mouth slightly agape, eyebrows furrowed together, and a confused look on his face. “Uh- Oh! Right, I was going to inform you about the Gala. It’s in a month. Jeonghan said he had some things planned and would handle everything before you were brought to the house to get dressed before we all leave.” 

“I feel like I should be scared of whatever he has planned.” You snort out a quiet laugh. 

“Personally, I would be scared.” 

You both shared a short laugh that mellowed into silence again. Though you never touched the bagel, you continued with the coffee, hoping it would keep you awake as long as possible. 

Many of the guys visited throughout the day. Seungcheol had left, saying he had a few things to get done upstairs and to call if you needed anything. Jeonghan only came in once to change a saline bag and push a few vitamins to aid in the healing process. He said he’d be back later and ruffled your hair like he did the previous night. 

First it was Chan and Wonwoo who mostly sat with you and brought up stories that Mingyu was in. Chan spoke about him like he was part superhero and Wonwoo played along, making the story out bigger than it probably was. They stayed for a good hour and you enjoyed the company to fill the void that was building inside of you. Chan had given Mingyu’s hand a big squeeze and smiled, but his voice wavered when he asked for him to wake up soon, that it was getting too quiet without his loud, boisterous personality awake. Wonwoo had kept any comments to himself, but you saw him bow his head in prayer before leaving with Chan. 

Seungkwan and Vernon only stopped in for a bit, clearly exhausted but dressed for whatever they needed to get done for the day. These two were relatively quiet in their visit, asking if you got any sleep which you brushed off and they didn’t give that straight of an answer when you asked in return. Vernon made a comment that they’d visit once they were done later in the day. Both had asked you to give them a call if anything was to change regarding Mingyu’s condition, which you easily agreed to. 

The largest horde was Soonyoung barging in in the afternoon, followed by Seokmin, Minghao, Junhui, and Jihoon, but the last man was really coming in for his given task. Junhui had made food for everyone earlier and brought extra for you, saying he heard from Chan that you were staying until Mingyu was awake. Though you took the container of food, you only placed it aside, letting it join the bagel bag from earlier, saying that you’d eat it later when you got hungry. It was the best white lie you could tell at this time, not wanting to worry them too much. Many of them were dressed in what you assumed was their ‘ dark side’ attire, thick boots, dark clothes, all the works.

Seokmin was eyeing you a good majority of the time he was there but he didn’t say anything if you looked bad. You more than likely did look disheveled, your lip was bitten to the point it bled earlier but it dried over and hurt. He only said he’d come back later to keep you company, giving you a side hug before they slipped out one by one. 

Then it was quiet again. You were left alone again to your own devices and thoughts. Truthfully you couldn’t think straight, images and memories bounced around your mind, they were close to sending you into a downward spiral but you willed away the mental torment to the best of your abilities. You didn’t feel hungry, at this point you didn’t even feel tired. Your limbs were numb and no matter if you tucked further in the blanket, you were still cold. 

You didn’t even realize Jeonghan was in the room until he placed his hand on your shoulder and you snapped back to reality, flinching at his touch. 

“Ay- Wow, it’s just me, Mouse.” He pulled his hand back and slid a chair up beside you. “Did you not hear me come in? I said hi.” 

“Sorry- Sorry…” Sighing, you placed a hand over your chest, feeling the fast pace of your heart. “I was zoning out- I- Sorry.” 

Jeonghan leaned in, tucking some strands of hair behind your ear to get a better look at your face. His fingers were warm against your cool skin and you couldn’t help but lean into the feeling. Gently he held your face, watching as your eyes fluttered closed and you sighed out a soft breath.

“You should get some sleep, Mouse. He isn’t going to be gone when you wake up.” 

Those words had your eyes snapping open and you straightened up, shaking your head. “I can’t- No. I can’t fall asleep.” You pushed the words to come out, digging your nails into your palms. You couldn’t fall asleep. You wouldn’t let yourself rest until he was awake and coherent enough to understand what was going on. 

Jeonghan sagged in his seat, stretching his arm over your shoulders to bring you close to his side. “Will you at least eat then? Just a little? I think ‘Gyu would be a little mad knowing that you didn’t eat because you wanted to wait up for him.” 

You whined and rested your head on his shoulder, a pout on your lips. “How dare you use manipulation and guilt tripping on me.” 

“Ah~ But are you going to eat? Junhui makes really good spicy noodles. Even lowered the heat intensity since he doesn’t know your tolerance.” 

“...Fine.” 

Reaching for the container, you pulled it into your lap, glad he provided some utensils, and under Jeonghan’s watch, you ate. It was good, really good and the spice was able to warm your frigid body enough. You let Jeonghan hold onto you, sapping the warmth he provided and listened to his quiet humming. Though at some points it was hard to eat, you swallowed enough down to satisfy the man beside you before closing it and placing the rest aside for later. 

It was nice having Jeonghan beside you. He provided a peaceful lull in the ache in your chest and settled the unruly thoughts that plagued your mind. He didn’t seem like one to judge you, maybe only when teasing you did he feel the need. Though annoying at times, his presence was enjoyable and always entertaining at the end of the day. He was already ready to listen when you complained over text and seemed like a shoulder to cry on when needed. Weird to think, but he was one of the people that felt like home along with Seokmin. 

The two of you sat, side by side, Jeonghan kept you close, letting himself take moments to rest his eyes. For what felt like hours, no one disturbed the stillness here. All that was heard was the sound of Mingyu and Jeonghan’s breathing and the occasional beep from a machine. Jeongahn was definitely asleep on your shoulder - not that you minded, he worked hard last night – and your eyes were getting irritated from no reset. 

Your eyes were focused on a pulled thread from the blanket Mingyu was tucked in with. Pulling it was a dumb idea, but the itch under your skin begged you to just tug it and rip it off. For a second you thought you were going to lose it, it had been too long since you stayed up all night, you weren’t a teenager anymore. 

While staring, you swore you saw Mingyu’s hand twitch. Refocusing your attention on the man, relief flooded through you when you saw his eyebrow twitch. Quickly you started to pat at Jeonghan’s leg, brushing his arm off your shoulder to stand and lean over the bed. Jeonghan was quick to react, bleary eyes blinking away any sleep that he could in case it was an emergency. He groggily voiced some concern but you didn’t hear anything. 

Mingyu’s eyes were starting to peel open, grimacing at the harsh lights of the room bleeding in through his cracked open eyes. You took his hand in both of your own, your heart beating so fast it might have you pass out. 

“Hey…hey, bud…” You said so softly, brushing some hair from his face when he turned his head. Tears were threatening to pour out of your eyes. A sound grumbled out of him and you cooed at him, a wobbly smile spreading across your lips. “It’s okay, ‘Gyu…”

He cursed when he tried to move some more but you quickly soothed him, placing one hand on his clothed chest to settle him. When his eyes fully opened, he took in his surroundings properly, sighing out a complaint of pain through his nose. Jeonghan had gotten up to round the bed and view Mingyu from the other side. 

“What-” His voice was hoarse and he tried to clear his throat but it didn’t help much. “How long have I been out?” 

“Almost twenty-four hours,” Jeonghan’s voice was just as soft when answering, a tight lipped smile was holding back the emotions he wouldn’t let spill over. “You scared us all half to death.” 

“ ‘M sorry.” He murmured out, but you only laughed, pushing his hair back. 

“No need to apologize, as long as you were here, that’s all that matters.” 

You stayed until he was coherent enough to ask for food and complained that beer was the best medicine. Both you and Jeonghan called everyone and they dropped everything they were doing to rush to Mingyu’s bedside. When he was in loving, safe hands, you asked Seungcheol for someone to drive you home, preferably not any of the guys since they wanted to be beside their brother. 

When you entered your apartment, you crashed hard. You couldn’t be bothered to change before crawling into the confines of your blankets and passed out. It was one of the best-worst sleeps of your life, you were happy to be asleep but terrified of the ongoing thoughts that haunt your dreams. You slept for twelve hours, it startled you when you saw the time on your phone. Seokmin and Jeonghan had sent text messages that only increased in volume the longer you didn’t reply. As you stared confused at your phone, a call came in from Jeonghan and you swiped to answer. 

“Hello?” 

“ Jesus, did you just wake up? You left over twelve hours ago, I was worried something happened.” 

Rubbing your eyes with one hand, you curled up on your side, yawning. “Yeah, I passed out once my head hit the pillow. I guess I was more tired than I felt.” 

“ Hmm, well Mingyu wants you back here to keep him company. If nothing changes by tomorrow night, he is begging to go home so we might take him back up to the house.” 

You nodded but remembered he couldn’t see you, and verbalized your ‘ okay’. He went on to say he’d be there in half an hour to pick you up and said goodbye. 

Jeonghan was true to his words in allowing Mingyu to go home. You were thankful he was alright despite the tremendous pain and eager to sleep in his own bed that was big enough for him and his long limbs. That’s how you found yourself seated in the back of Minghao’s SUV with Mingyu’s head on your lap. Seokmin had called shotgun and now it was the four of you hearing the injured man complain each time there was a pothole or bump in the road. Many of the others had work to tend to and would meet up back at the house later. You messaged Wonwoo to let him know you guys were on the way so he was prepared to help lug Mingyu to his room upon arrival. 

Really, getting him into the car was easy somehow, but getting him out of the car? He was whining like a baby and protesting whenever someone moved too fast. It was his stupid idea to lay across the backseats, it would have been easier to drop the backseats and lay him flat in the back with some pillows and padding to make it easier to get him out. When he was finally standing and huffing out tired breaths to compensate for the spent energy, it took Seokmin and Wonwoo to slowly walk him through the house and get him into bed. 

You trailed behind with a bag full of his things slung over your shoulder that another member brought yesterday. Wonwoo pushed Mingyu’s door open and you stopped at the threshold, not wanting to break the barrier of personal quarters. Jeonghan’s room was the only other place outside of the office in the house that was a more private space. The interior was a mix of black and white, medium-light colored wood as accents to the scheme. His bed was huge, probably a King-bed of some type, it wouldn’t surprise you if it was custom made exactly for him. He had a gaming set up in the corner, a few monitors and you would have laughed at the bright blue dog-ear headset. 

“Mouse, you can come in.” Mingyu called from where he sat on his bed, taking a moment before moving any more. 

“Uh- right. Yeah.” Shifting from foot to foot for a moment, you stepped inside and placed his bag at the foot of his bed. “Do you need anything?” 

With a shake of his head, he smiled and his shoulders shook as he laughed silently. “I’ll be okay. And thanks for everything, guys.” He said to Seokmin, Wonwoo, and Minghao but his eyes landed on you once more. “And thank you, Mouse. You helped a lot from what Jihoon and Vernon told me.” 

Mingyu got into bed with more ease than getting him up from the bed back at the warehouse. Wonwoo pulled the covers over him but you fussed a bit, making sure his phone was placed on his nightstand in easy reach and asking one last time if he needed something. He brushed you off and sent you out of the room with the rest, saying to wake him up when food was made. 

You had stepped out onto the back patio after parting from Mingyu and found solace under an umbrella to hide from the sun but enjoy the hot air. Being here at the house was one of the only times you could enjoy the outdoors without the constant noise of the busy city streets bothering you. Oftentimes you wished you could afford a home outside of the concrete jungle you lived in to have solitude and room to breathe truly fresh air. 

“Oh- Mouse, hey.” Vernon’s voice found its way to your ears and you turned to see him exit the back sliding doors. “Mingyu is home then, good.” 

“Mmm, yeah, he is probably knocked out in his room.” The response hummed out of you. “What are your plans?” 

“Ah-” He paused, mouth wide open and averted his gaze, trying to think of a good answer, but it was clear none came. “Honestly…I was going to smoke a bowl and stare at the ceiling for a while.” 

That sounded amazing after the last couple of days…

“Vernon,” You scratched the back of your neck and puffed out a breath. “Can I join you?” 

He didn’t bother hiding the surprise that spread across his features and one eyebrow raised high. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, I think I need it.” 

With one more moment of hesitation, he shrugged and walked towards one of the sheds with a little bounce to his step. “If we get in trouble, it’s your idea.” 

Chuckling quietly as you trailed behind, you nodded. “Got it, I’m just ready to get higher than a kite.” 

As Vernon threw the door open to the shed, he spread his arms wide and spun around, walking backwards until his knees hit the back of the blanket covered couch at the far end of the building and sunk into it. “Welcome to DJ Leafblower’s Sanctuary. Very few are allowed in and when they do get invited, they leave relaxed.” 

It was a pretty small space but it was dark and comforting. It smelled strong of weed but that only added to the hippie vibe. He reached over to hit a button and the small area came to life with different types of colored lights and designs moving on the ceiling. Now you could see why he was going to stare at it for a while, it all made sense now.

“You make this sound like something completely different.” You closed the door behind you and crashed on the couch beside him, kicking off your slides and tucking your legs in criss-cross. “Also- DJ Leafblower? Did you name yourself that?” 

“Yes.” He said proudly and you only shook your head, laughing under your breath. 

“Whatever, let's just get this going.” 

If you tried to count on your fingers how many hits you took, you would have ten- wait…no five…everything looked a little funny. 

You don’t know where in between hits you and Vernon ended up on the cushioned, blanket covered floor, laying opposite directions but your heads beside one another. The light designs that shifted around on the ceiling were mesmerizing in your inebriated state, every time you slow-blinked they changed and you were even more fascinated by it. This was the most relaxed you’ve been in a long time and you didn’t want the feeling to end. 

“You know-” The words came out slow from Vernon, “I thought we lost him there for a moment.” 

Processing the sentence had you closing your eyes for a moment, humming back. “I couldn’t let another person die.” 

Vernon turned his head to you and you maneuvered to lay on your side, able to see his face but too unfocused to see his expression. “Another person?” He asked quietly. 

“My parents.” 

Silence filled the shed. The lights continued to move. You swore you could feel the earth move with how high you were. 

“Mouse…” Vernon sounded so…sorrowful if you had to point a word to it. “Is that why you didn’t sleep?” 

“Mhmm.” You don’t know why you were speaking about it, in your relaxed state it was too easy to just let the sob story – well, you thought of it as a sob story – spill out. “They ODed when I was a kid, like six.” 

“Fuck dude.” He sat up and turned to sit and face you. “That’s horrible.” 

You gave a quiet chuckle and shrugged. “When I saw Mingyu on the table, I had flashbacks to my parents on the floor in the living room, minus the blood and all. I kept picturing their faces on him, how lifeless they looked, how pale they looked. There was fucking needles on the ground beside their bodies. I just-” Sighing, you closed your eyes, “I couldn’t have that same feeling. I needed Mingyu to live.”  

You slowly sat up and everything around you spun for a moment. “What makes it worse? Those bastard cops, the ones that came when I called 911, brushed it under the rug because who wants the fact that a cop ODed with his stay at home wife while their daughter was sleeping written all over your police station and the small town news.” 

Vernon looked like he didn’t know how to respond, but the words continued to spill out. “I told them that I saw the guy's face that sold it to them but they never believed me, saying I was just making it up. Who the fuck makes that shit up? I saw the drug dealer that sold them laced stuff and no one cared. My family, god those assholes too, didn’t want the fucked up kid so I went into foster care, which sucked by the way. I tried to reach out to them but they told me never to contact them again. I bounced around from small town to small town for years after that. I got a scholarship to the university here in the city and I never looked back. I’ve had this fucked up sense that it was all my fault, like they turned to drugs because I wasn’t a perfect kid.” 

There was a smile on your face the whole time like the entire story was some kind of joke. You reached out and lit the put out joint, taking a long drag. “I learned later that they blacked out all and any information that my dad reached out to his commanders for help. The entire police report from the day I found them was blacked out too. Sick fucking bastards.” Every word that left you was said with hate. You took another long drag and handed it over to Vernon who gladly accepted it. He met your eyes, the expression he wore soft and in no way filled with pity. “If I ever see the guy that sold those drugs to them, Vernon…I swear I’ll kill him myself…” 

Vernon’s mind was fuzzy but he nodded, seemingly a mutual understanding of the feeling. “My sister and I…our parents were killed in a hit and run when we were young.” Hearing him start, your attention, while slow to focus, was drawn to him, watching as he stared up at the ceiling. “Because it was local gang shit and the cops were lazy as hell, we didn’t get any justice. We were sent off to our grandmother’s but she was old and couldn’t really take care of us. There wasn’t enough money so I stole to get by. Really I wanted to shield my sister from it.” 

“Is she-?” 

“She is going to college this year. When I joined SVT a few years back, I made them promise to help me pay for her education and I’d do what they needed. Mainly blackmail, weed growing and sales, shit like that. I’m not doing stuff like Chan, Minghao, and them. I’m mainly on Wonwoo’s side with work.” 

You nodded, laying back down beside him, letting your eyes follow the lights on the ceiling. 

“If I knew who those gang members were, I’d kill them in a heartbeat right now and I’m not the most coordinated with a gun.” Vernon let out a small huff of a laugh. “But we always have someone with my sister even if she is just being watched, if anything was to happen to her, I’d have justice as quick as I could. I’d raise hell and heaven to make sure she is resting in peace. I hope you find the guy that did it, it's an eye for an eye at that point.” 

“Thanks for not thinking I’m crazy.” 

“Crazy?” Vernon let out a loud laugh, shoulders shaking to the point where his arm knocked against yours. “We are laying in a shed where I smoke a fuck ton of weed on a property that Seungcheol built and prospered with mainly mafia money. Mouse, we are in a fucking action movie and honestly it gets boring.”

“Has anyone seen Vernon?” Seungkwan called through the living room, frowning. “I can’t find him.” 

The sun had set and almost all of the members were back at the house. He had gone in and checked on Mingyu who was knocked out, tucked snuggly under the comforter. Seungkwan had gone to Vernon’s room to hang out but came up short. He didn’t get any text messages that Vernon was leaving the property. 

“I swear you are usually attached to the hip,” Soonyoung shuffled around the kitchen, laughing at him. “Have you checked the shed?” 

Jeonghan entered the living room, looking at the group of members littering the area. “Have any of you seen, Mouse?” 

“No idea. Usually Seokmin knows where she is but he went back to the city for something. I haven’t really seen her since we got Mingyu into bed.” Minghao was lazied on the couch, a book hovering above his head as he scanned the pages. 

“I’m going to check the shed.” Seungkwan huffed, having a feeling that none of them would be of any help. “I’ll let you know if Mouse is in there.” 

Turning on his toes, he jogged out the back door and towards DJ Leafblower’s shed. He couldn’t see anything inside with the blocked out windows but a quick pull of the door gave him his answer. 

Mouse and Vernon were sitting back against the foot of the couch, heads leaned back as they stared at the ceiling. A blanket was thrown over their legs but the cloud of smoke that left the small building gave him a clear answer to the current state they were in. 

“No, all I’m saying is that if you want a really good bowl of soup, you need to let me cook..” Mouse rambled off and Vernon nodded along, “I make amazing soup, Vernon. I’m telling you.” 

“Nah, nah, I believe you, but soup is so…overrated.” 

Mouse gasped and slapped her hand against his arm. “ Take it back .” 

“You both are idiots.” Seungkwan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Vernon high is bad enough.” 

Both Mouse and Vernon lifted their heads and beamed at him. Truthfully his heart melted a little. They looked like little kids when their favorite person came into the room. 

“Seungkwan!” Vernon waved his hand and motioned for him to join them. “Kwan, Kwan, come tell Mouse the thing you were telling me about. About Jeonghan.” 

Seungkwan slapped a hand to his face and sighed once more. Of course he remembers that now. “No, Nonnie, I’m not going to talk about that while both of you are smoking.” 

“Why not?” Mouse questioned, resting her head on Vernon’s shoulder. “I wanna know the tea on Jeonghan.” 

He stepped inside and shut the door, pulling out his phone to send Jeonghan a text that they were in the shed, and sat down across from the two. “Because the tea shouldn’t be talked about when your head is in the clouds.” 

She whined, pouting. “That’s dumb.” 

“No, you are for smoking whatever concoction of weed Vernon had on hand.”

“The Leaf Blower special.” Vernon laughed.

Seungkwan mockingly muttered the words under his breath but leveled them both with a judgemental gaze. “Are you guys hungry? If you come inside, we can get you some of the chicken tenders Mingyu keeps in the freezer.”

“Tendies sound amazing.” Mouse giggled, “Do you have other trash food?” 

He was going to die by the end of the night because of them. “There are probably some pizza rolls and french fries in there. I think Shua brought home two dozen cinnamon rolls too.” 

“Seungkwan, I’d kiss you right now but I feel like jelly.” Mouse was looking at him like he was a literal god among men. 

“Please do not,” He started, continuing to talk under his breath but didn’t realize how loud he actually was, “Jeonghan wouldn’t be happy about that.” 

She frowned, confusion twisting across her face. “Why would he be mad about that?” 

Vernon grinned. “Because Jeonghan like likes you, Mouse.” 

“Oh for fucks sake-” 

“Wait- What?” 

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Varadha's Greatest Strength Part 2

read Part 1 here

warnings: slight NSFW, implications of torture

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It's much later when Deva and Varadha get to go back to Varadha's mansion, after the negotiations with the Shouryangas. They had taken up the entire day, but the very fact that the Mannarsi were willing to cooperate, and the presence of Deva had helped make a deal that both tribes liked. Varadha could see the relief in the bodies of everyone around him, a lightness that he hadn’t seen since years before. 

He had done it. The fantasies he’d forbidden himself to have growing up, of becoming the karta and ruling Khansaar, he could make them all come true. He wasn’t selfish enough to dream of having money, of having the newest manufactured weapons from around the world. All he wanted was to see his little brother, his men happy for once. Not eyed with thinly disguised disgust, or suspicion whenever they tried to walk around the city. Not threatened with violence just because Varadha had no power to stop it. Now, Varadha was the ultimate authority of Khansaar. No one would cross Varadha’s men, and he would ensure that their punishment would be suitably violent if they tried. 

As they enter Varadha’s place, still holding hands, Varadha feels Deva consciously change his pace so that he enters right foot first, along with Varadha, and the simple gesture sparks Varadha up inside. He has to fight to resist pulling Deva down for a kiss again. There’s time for that, he tells himself. 

Once they’re inside, Bilal and the others immediately scatter with flimsy excuses and knowing looks between themselves. Varadha sees Deva’s cheeks turn red out of the corner of his eyes, and Varadha himself isn’t entirely unaffected. Am I that obvious? he wonders. 

Maybe not that obvious, as Baachi turns to talk to him like nothing unusual is happening. 

“Anna-” he’s cut off by the mute boy physically dragging Baachi away, ignoring his protests. “What are you…” Baachi trails off as the boy presumably tries signing something. “WHAT??? THEY’RE GONNA-” the rest of the sentence is cut off as they hear the back door open and close.  

Varadha and Deva are left the only two on the first floor, air tense. Varadha turns to Deva, still holding his hand. The blush hasn’t gone anywhere. Varadha is incredibly fond of the way the towering, muscular man has managed to look this cute.  

There’s a question in Deva’s eyes, waiting for Varadha’s permission to be asked. 

Fuck it. Varadha knows what they both want anyway. He cups Deva’s face and brings him down for their second kiss. The first had been a simple press of lips, completely unplanned. Deva had just looked so good on his knees, calling him his Sulthan so reverently, that Varadha couldn’t control himself. 

This one was different. 

Varadha almost loses himself in the sensation of those wet, warm lips, and the gentle scratch of Deva’s beard against his, when the kiss is abruptly broken. Deva only leans back a few inches, but far enough to deter Varadha from instinctively closing the gap. 

“What, raa?” he whispers to Deva. “Getting cold feet now?” Varadha’s joking but lead pools in his stomach. Both times they kissed, Varadha had initiated. Did Deva really not feel that way for him? Was it purely platonic? Did he just not want to refuse Varadha in front of everyone else in that room?

Deva gently wraps his arms around Varadha’s lower back, pressing them slightly closer. He gives him the stare that Varadha had always remembered, the one filled with pure steel. The look that told Varadha, I’m here. I’ll protect you. I’m here for you, and he unconsciously relaxes a bit. 

“Rey, is this what you want?”

Varadha frowns. “Deva?”

“Is this what you want? The whole time I’ve been here, I’ve seen you do everything either out of fear or for the sake of other people.

I love you. I can say that, because it’s true. You’re everything to me, Varadha. There’s not a single day out there that I didn’t think about you and what you might be doing behind these walls. But I don’t want you to feel obligated in any way.”

Varadha blinks, stunned. “And I love you, raa.” He brings Deva’s face down again, this time instead to press his forehead against the other man’s. “I don’t think there’s ever been a time where I haven’t loved you. I genuinely do want you by my side, not just as my fellow leader, but as a life partner.”

Deva looks like he’s searching Varadha’s eyes. “You’re not saying this to keep me happy, are you? To keep the Shouryangas happy?” He suddenly leans back. “Just say the word, Varadha. One word, and I’ll never bother you again. I’ll kill them all myself if that’s what it takes for you to know peace. You wanted me here to protect your brother, right? I’ll consider that my purpose and leave you alone.”

Fuck. Varadha doesn’t know exactly what Deva has been through in the last twenty five years, but he’s realizing Deva was probably just as miserable as him. He swallows, and silently vows to make sure Deva never feels this worthless ever again. 

Varadha lets go of Deva’s face and reaches behind him to grab Deva’s hands. He presses kisses to the knuckles of each hand, letting the affection show through him. Gripping both hands, Varadha states, “I would rather kill myself, than watch you leave again. I can’t go through that again, raa.” He watches Deva’s lips open into a hopeful smile. “So, unfortunately for you,” Varadha says as he leans in, “You’re stuck with me forever, even if you don’t like it.” He stops himself the barest distance away from Deva, and waits. 

“Okay, I’m yours,” Deva breathes, before finally closing the distance. 

Varadha doesn’t know how they make it to his room, honestly. All he can recall is Deva’s lips on his own, his hands wandering up the backside of Deva’s shirt to feel the Shouryanga scars adorning the strong muscles. At some point, Deva had asked whose room, and Varadha had just replied, “Ours.” 

As they cross the threshold of the room, Deva picks Varadha up, carrying him the last few feet before he’s gently deposited onto his bed, the action a lot hotter than Varadha wants to admit. 

They kiss for a while more, until Deva sits back on his heels next to Varadha. 

“How far did you want to go?” Deva asks, slightly out of breath. Whatever he sees on Varadha’s face makes him blush deeply once more. “I’ve never done… any of this.” 

Varadha had forced himself to not think about any partners Deva could have taken in the last twenty five years, had just hoped he was happy and left it at that. But to know that Deva hadn’t even sought anyone out, that he had held onto the love he had for Varadha, it makes him satisfied in a way he knows he shouldn’t be. 

“I haven’t either,” he answers, and delights in seeing Deva’s eyes darken, clearly feeling the same possessiveness. What a pair they were. “I don’t lack an imagination, though.” Varadha doesn’t want to take it too far so soon, but he also doesn’t want to stop right now. “Take your shirt off.”

Deva’s eyebrows lift at the order, but there’s a glint in his eyes that Varadha knows means he’s enjoying himself. 

“Yours too,” Deva counters, and Varadha obliges. 

Nakedness was not something either were unfamiliar with. As children, they had bathed together, and seen each other in various states of undress. It was a privilege that Varadha hadn’t granted anyone else, even Baachi. He quite literally trusted Deva with his unprotected back. As such, both stripped briskly, and the thought of being seductive about it occurred to Varadha too late. 

He swallows at the sight of the sudden expanse of muscle, though. His Deva is well defined, hours spent laboring in the forges resulting in an exquisite body. Varadha aches to be able to taste those shoulders, press down on the brown nipples, leave nail marks all over Deva’s abs, but he also knows he has no idea what he’s doing, and doesn’t want to scare Deva off.

Deva in turn has also been appreciating Varadha’s bare chest, but Varadha can see his eyes trail to… oh no. Deva’s starting to frown and Varadha knows it’ll turn into a whole conversation if he doesn’t stop it here, so he climbs right into Deva’s lap and kisses him again. 

 “I’ll tell you later, raa,” he whispers. 

The atmosphere is softer, less heated than how it was downstairs, and Varadha takes his time exploring. He presses a kiss to the other man’s forehead, Deva’s eyes fluttering shut. Tilts his head down to kiss the beautifully curved nose, then meets his lips again. Deva in turn presses kisses just above Varadha’s lips where his nose ring falls, then manages to find a particularly sensitive spot of skin just below Varadha’s ear. 

The pressure starts building up again, this time pooling in his groin, so Varadha experimentally grinds down. Deva moans at the sudden contact, and Varadha decides that’s the most beautiful sound his Deva has ever made. He resumes kissing Deva, while slowly setting a rhythm with his hips. Deva starts rocking into him as well, clumsy at first but matching his speed soon after. The kisses turn more frantic as they move against each other, and Varadha stops thinking; lets himself just feel the sensations. 

He doesn’t know how long its been until Deva’s making a ruined noise, hips stuttering, and buries his head in Varadha’s shoulder. The knowledge that he had just- that Deva had just- is enough for Varadha, and the heat inside him crests. He cries out as he rides through whatever this sensation is, feeling the release inside the fabric of his dhoti. 

The two just hold each other for a few moments, regaining their breaths. Deva then pushes down until they’re lying down, Varadha on his back and Deva on top of Varadha, head resting on Varadha’s chest. 

It’s where he belongs, Varadha thinks. 

Deva looks up, resting his chin on Varadha’s sternum. He wraps his hands around Varadha’s back, and Varadha goes to smooth out Deva’s hair. 

“Good luck getting rid of me now,” Deva grins. “I won’t leave even if you try to kill me.”

“I should be telling you that,” Varadha retorts. “You’re mine now.”

“Yours,” Deva easily agrees. He opens his mouth to say something else, then starts wheezing as something seemingly just occurs to him. 

“I just realized…” Deva’s doubling over, clutching Varadha’s hips. “My mom’s going to skin you.”

Uh oh. Varadha had completely forgotten about Amma. Even at his ripe age he was still scared of the stick she had used to discipline them both as kids. Forget the stick, she had an incredible ability to make him feel absolutely miserable as she obliterated them with words. He swallows, and rolls them over so Varadha can cuddle into Deva.

“Actually, that’s a problem for tomorrow. It’s sleeping time now.” 

“Okay raa,” Deva says, still giggling to himself. 

Varadha stops fighting his own smile. Deva’s back with him, against all odds. Maybe he can persuade Amma to stay here as well. 

Deva. Amma. Baachi. His men. 

Everyone he’d ever loved, and they were all with him. He goes to sleep, legs wrapped around Deva, still smiling. 

tags: @deadloverscity @sada-siva-sanyaasi @sambaridli @sometimesbrave @just-a-lazy-person @vijayasena @mad-who-ra @umbrulla @jitterbugbetty @chocolate-1-0-1 @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @sinistergooseberries @tulodiscord @varadevaficrecs @hum-suffer @nini9224 @varadevlawyer