#I'm so bad at drawing legs. Especially right where it meets the foot

[the-halfling-prince]

wip Wednesday ? Wow.

im so excited to finish this piece.

[luveline]

thinking about shy!reader joining hellfire for the first time and being really nervous and intimidated by eddie so he tries to make her feel better ❤️

i didn't know if it was supposed to be bf!eddie or not so i made it ambiguous like maybe you're in that limbo stage before ♡ shy!fem!reader | 0.7k words

You get there earlier than you should. The only person in the club room is Eddie, perched on the arm of his throne with a mass market paperback bent into a shape in one hand. 

You knock awkwardly. 

Eddie doesn't flinch. He drops the book and pulls his shirt away from his chest, a smile overtaking his pretty features as you walk into the middle of the room.

"I'm sorry I'm early," you say, eyes on his hand. His rings brush the wood of the long table as he meets you. 

"Don't be, I was just perusing this lil' thing for campaign ideas to steal. Are you ready?" 

You'd talked to him a couple times now about coming. This was the first you'd actually managed to bring yourself here, and only because Eddie had been so kind about it. 

You look at the table and feel especially daunted. "Where… where does everybody sit? I don't want to take someone's seat," you say, your voice a weak whisper by the time you've finished. 

Eddie clasps his own shoulder with one hand, the other at his elbow. "You can sit at the top by me."

Your eyes go wide. "Everyone will look at me." 

"Everybody's too busy arguing about rolls and looking for their pencils or an eraser to bother, trust me." He takes a step toward you. "If you sit by me, I can keep an eye on you, yeah? Whisper hints at you." 

"I don't wanna cheat." 

"That's the spirit." 

Eddie sits down heavily, slouches and stretches his legs out to one side. He's smiling that shark-tooth smile that intimidates and endears you with his hands flat to his abdomen, the tiniest sliver of midriff on display. You're so distracted by him that you almost forget your nerves. Almost. 

"What are you so scared of?" he asks. 

He nudges the chair closest to his with the bottom of a thick soled converse and you sit down gingerly, his foot between yours. 

"Embarrassing myself," you admit. 

"Like, not knowing what something means?" 

"Yeah, but… I don't know. What if I make a bad decision? A stupid one." 

"I make 'em all the time." You stare at him. "I'm not kidding around. I won't think far enough ahead, or I spend hours designing a room and somebody uses a conjuration spell for a rope and just - climbs right out." He shrugs. "Shit happens." 

You try not to sulk too obviously. You want to believe him and adopt his nonchalance. "You know what you need?" he asks suddenly.

It feels like a trick question. "What?" 

He pulls a black pen from between the pages of his dark bound notebook and gestures to your hand. You offer it, feel a shattering of pin pricks under the skin at his light touch, ink spreading with a ticklish coolness.

He draws a symbol you've never seen before, thumb pulling your skin taut. Your heart feels like a hummingbird fighting its way out of your chest unsuccessfully as you try not to think about how close he is or how he can probably smell your perfume. You can smell his cologne. Something sweet like bourbon vanilla hiding under a headier woody scent, maybe cedar of sandal. 

"There," he mutters, setting the pen down with an even bigger smile than before. "Abracadabra, babe." 

"What is it?" you ask. 

Eddie looks you straight in the eye and leans back into the throne.

"A spell for courage," he says, chin lifted high, lips forming each word with flare. 

The first lot of club members arrive. 

By the time the sessions ended your cheeks ache from smiling. There's a lightness you hadn't expected to feel, though whether it's from the game or Eddie's little reassurances, his murmured check-ins or the toe of his shoe rubbing your ankle under the table, you don't know.

[smileyoongle]

Falling for a lounge singer (Yandere!Mafia! BTS)// Kim Seokjin

Requested anonymously.

Summary: Working as a part time singer, you never thought you'd find yourself becoming the centre of attention of a man's life, especially one who you can't run from.

Word Count: 2K

You bowed before the audience at your workplace, an empty smile tugging at your lips as you finally walked down the stage and made your way to the bar. This was the third consecutive day in a week where your boss had made you work overtime without paying you for it. You knew that as a singer who performed in a small but reputable lounge bar, you weren’t worth that much. In fact, the reality was that you could be replaced at any given time, the city not having any less talented singers than you and that made you insecure about your job all the time. But either way, you were just stuck here, trying to push your way through every single day just to clear all your debts.

Life was unfair. It had always been.

Sitting down on a bar stool, you leaned across the counter and rested your elbows on it, the cold surface feeling good against the warmth of your skin. The speakers in the lounge were now playing the latest radio hits, the beats making your head hurt as you were handed a glass of water by the bartender who looked at you with a pitiful smile. Thanking him, you sipped on the water before your manager made his way to you and placed a champagne coloured envelope before you. Frowning in confusion, you gave him a questioning look which he returned with a nervous but angry expression.

“Someone left a tip for you,” he sneered, clearly not liking the fact that you had received money which wasn’t given by him. An asshole is what he was, his intentions of seeing you worried sick becoming more and more obvious with every passing night.

Pursing your lips, you unsealed the envelope only to find a lot of money, money that was probably worth your salary of six months. Your eyes widened in surprise, lips parting as you tried to make sense of why someone would tip you off with so much cash. You weren't even that good and you could never be that good.

“Who?” you asked, following your manager’s gaze to the exit where a bunch of men were making their way out. Almost immediately, you were on your feet with the envelope tightly clutched between your fingers. You needed to know who this man was that was so generous to you. Needed to know what about you was worth so much.

Holding your dress with one hand, you made your way towards the exit, eyes worriedly fixated on the doorway which was now empty. The bouncers nodded at you in acknowledgement while you forced a smile upon your lips and exited the bar, a part of you thinking that he must have left. But just as you came in contact with the cold night outside, your eyes took in the sight of an expensive car with a man dressed in an equally expensive suit surrounded by, you were guessing, his bodyguards. You couldn’t see his face yet, only his back being your line of sight but judging by everything, he certainly was someone in power. But if that was the case, what was he doing in a place so...average?

Deciding to end your curiosity, you called out to him, not knowing that this man was going to turn your life around completely. In a good way or bad? That was for you to choose.

“Excuse me, Si-”

Right then, your heel decided to give away, your ankle twisting painfully before you tripped...except you didn’t. Instead, you felt two hands taking a hold of your waist to steady you, your hands immediately latching onto their shoulder in return. And that’s when you finally saw him.

Kim Seokjin.

The man who was known to be running the biggest drug cartel around the country.

Your breath hitched as your eyes widened in recognition, a shiver running down your spine upon the realisation that he was here and he was holding you. Your fingers involuntarily tightened around his bicep, his eyes intently taking in your face as if you were his prey and he, your predator.

“Are you hurt, sweetheart?” he asked, snapping you out of your daze. Swallowing thickly, you shook your head, too afraid to even move because what could you even do? If you had known that Kim Seokjin was the one who had tipped you off, you would have probably just handed the money to your manager without confronting him. But here you were, stuck in a situation that you didn’t know how to get out of.

Your ears perked up at the sound of a car door opening, your eyes darting towards the black vehicle that now mocked at you with its open door. Jin swiftly picked you up without a word, a small yelp escaping your lips as you stared at him with fear and panic.

Were you being kidnapped?

Before you could think any further, you were placed onto a cool leather seat, your legs dangling to the side where the door proceeded to stay open. You watched Jin kneel down before you, his hands gently taking off your heel to inspect your ankle as a frown made its way to your forehead. The sudden act of kindness was making you very confused and you didn’t know what to do about it.

Maybe he just treated people nicely before he got rid of them?

A sudden pressure to your ankle had you whimpering and pulling your foot away, your teary eyes meeting Jin’s as he looked up at you with a soft gaze only to have his heart ache upon seeing you in so much distress.

In all honesty, this wasn’t the first time Jin was seeing you and the fact that he had tipped you a fortune was no coincidence either. He had walked into this bar for a deal about a month ago when he saw you, your voice being the first thing that captivated him. You looked absolutely stunning in a satin dress with your lips stained red, your smile taking his breath away even though it was just for show. Ever since that night, he just knew he had to see you and know you even if it meant coming to this place.

When you went to the rooftop to cry your heart out, he was right there in the shadows, wondering just what he could do to take your worries away. When you were being yelled at by your landlord, he was right there holding himself back from ruining that man's life. In short, every single time you thought you were alone, you weren't. Jin was always there, slowly figuring out where he was going to fit himself in your life. This tip that he had given you was guaranteed to solve your problems but along with that, it also made sure that you would want to see him. And that's all he really needed.

“You’re hurt, sweetheart. I don’t think you can walk-”

“Are you going to kill me?” Jin frowned upon hearing your question, feeling a little hurt that the girl he was so insane about, thought that he'd lay a hand on her, let alone kill her. But he had only himself to blame for having an image that was tainted with the blood of many, innocents and devils alike.

"Why would you think that, Y/N?" He asked, placing his hand on the empty space beside you. Your lips trembled as you struggled to answer, your eyes taking in the number of guards around you two. As if reading your mind, Jin quickly dismissed them, your shoulders slightly relaxing as you watched them walk away to where you couldn't see them. Feeling a little hopeful, you wiped away a tear that fell down your cheek and held your head up.

"I know who you are and what you do," you answered, biting your lip as you watched a wave of disappointment wash over him. Jin had been left speechless and he knew that, his jaw clenching and unclenching out of habit. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he sighed, his hand gently taking yours into his as you tensed in your seat.

"I need you to listen to me carefully, sweetheart," he stated, drawing your attention to him and him only.

"I have been watching you for a while now," he confessed with apology filled eyes looking right into yours, "and hurting you, is the last thing I want."

Those words had you feeling breathless, too many emotions bubbling up your throat and making you wanna throw up. You had been the subject of a very dangerous man for quite some time and you had no idea. On top of it all, he said he didn't want to hurt you and you found yourself believing him. Maybe it was the way his eyes held so much adoration for you or the way he held onto you like you were a fragile little doll, you didn't know.

"Wh-what do you want then?"

"To love you," he answered without any hesitation, his hand coming up to brush away your hair from your cheek. His touch was warm, almost comforting, something you hadn't had in a very long time. Having been so lonely all this time, the idea of being cared for and loved seemed too tempting to let go. And knowing just how powerful Kim Seokjin was, it was very obvious that no one would ever dream of hurting you, be it mentally or physically.

But, were you really willing to choose comfort over the fact that he was a murderer?

"M-Mr. Kim, you don't even know me. I'm a normal girl who has a simple life and being roped into yours is the last thing I need."

You stated, noticing the way his eyes held a hint of sadness that seemed to be barely there. Swallowing thickly, you stood up with a pained expression, quickly taking your heels in your hand as you glanced at Jin one last time. This was the right decision, in your mind. Because there was nothing worse than having to live with a man, knowing he was cold and brutal. It was almost as if you'd be his partner in crime, something you just couldn't digest.

Limping towards the bar, you sighed in relief as a sudden silence surrounded you. Jin hadn't said a word to your rejection, making you think that he had understood what you were trying to say. The chilly air felt comforting now, your breath coming to you in waves of warmth. But before you could open the door to the bar, you heard a light click behind you.

Frowning, you turned around, your eyes growing wide upon coming face to face with the muzzle of a gun. Seokjin stood holding it firmly, his eyes red and angry. Your lips began to quiver immediately, your ears taking in the sound of his guards gathering around you.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, did it sound like you had a choice?" He sneered, stepping forward and pressing the muzzle against your forehead. You slowly shook your head, a full stream of tears falling down your cheeks as you dropped your heels and joined your hands together.

"Please don't hurt me. I'm sorry I didn't-"

"Shh sweetheart, shh," he whispered, sliding the gun down your cheek and pressing it against your jaw. You could feel his arm holding your waist firmly, a scared whimper making its way out of your lips.

"You have no idea just how crazy you've been driving me, Y/N. Ever since I've seen you, I haven't stopped thinking about you," he mumbled, staring into your eyes so intensely that if not for the present situation, you would've deemed it romantic.

"Every second I've been thinking of things I'd like to do to you. And I can't have you take that away from me now, can I?" You closed your eyes, your body shaking as you sobbed at his words. The proximity was starting to suffocate you, your hands desperately trying to push Jin away from you but he was too strong.

"Let me go, Jin. Please let me go," you begged, your eyes drooping shut as you grew tired, your head falling against his chest. His hand came up to the back of your head, caressing your hair as he pulled you flush against him.

"Not any time soon, sweetheart," he replied, suddenly pulling back and gesturing the guards to the car. Large hands came to grip your arms, a scream sounding through the night as you were pushed inside the car you were seated in before. Your palms pressed against the leather, the door closing shut behind you as you sat up and banged your fists against the window. Spotting Jin outside, you cried louder, hoping he'd take pity on you. Instead he leaned down to where your palms rested on the window, placing his exactly against yours.

"I promise you'll be happy, sweetheart. I promise."

A/N: Guess who's back! That's right! Me! A dumb bitch! Anyway, I'm so sorry for not posting for like more than a year but for some reason, my brain went on a break and it just didn't wanna come back. So much has happened in the time I was away and I wanna give y'all so many deets like, boy trouble- check, best friend turning out to be a bitch trouble- check, getting two surgeries within a span of two months- check. In short, my life is a mess and I'm loving it.

Also, this turned out really long for like all the members, which is why I'm gonna post them separately. I hope I give you guys the same vibes from my writing as before. Or I'd die from shame. Okay I'm off now! Tell me if you liked it.

[svardick]

Indulging slightly embarrassing fic be it's been a rough week

At almost 12:00, the door to the one story house heaved open, the torrential downpour outside at a shout volume, rushing in with the wind before the door was closed. J stood in the doorway, water dripping off of all of him, including the large laptop bag hanging off his shoulder, despite only being out to run between the car and the door, and to wait for the taxi. He had been out for a good portion of the day, dealing with a customer for his father. Getting caught in a goddamn biblical flood was not exactly what he needed after being interrogated and stressed by several Russian mafia members for 9 and 1/2 hours. They made no attempt to be subtle with the fact that they were heavily armed, much outnumbered him, and were not happy about seeing a "kid" put in charge of managing alliances between them and Jacques Svardin. J spent a good portion of the meeting kicking himself for only bringing a small handgun, tucked into a pocket of his laptop bag. "Well, look what the cat dragged in. You go for a swim, J?" Beth chirped, peaking over the couch. "Don't start with me right now." J growled, sliding the laptop bag away from him, stripping off his sopping wet suit, which clung to him, making it exceedingly difficult to do. Once he had stripped, he dropped the wet clothes in the bathtub, and threw on some boxer shorts and a sweater, before plopping down on the couch beside Beth. "How was your boring, vanilla, suit-and-tie job?" Beth inquired, scooting into his lap. She was in a tank top and sweatpants, both of which were pilfered from J. "Wouldn't be vanilla for you," he scoffed, "you should've seen all the fucking artillery they had. It was like what I imagine your wet dreams are like." She shifted in his lap slightly. "Whatever. You're forgetting that my job is working with aggressive old men too." "Yeah?" J clicked his tongue slightly, biting back what he was going to say next. But alas, the combination of being chilled to the bone from outside, and his shitty day, did not leave much room for self restraint. "Stripping is hardly comparable to dealing with the heads of the fucking Russian mafia. They could've killed me in 0.3 seconds if I so much as breathed wrong. Plus, if I did something wrong and got away with it from them... Well, you know how my dad is." He huffed, dragging his thumb across his throat. "So, I'm sure your work is ever so stressful, but at least death isn't fucking imminent for you." A heavy silence hung in the air, with only the quiet hum of the tv show Intervention in the background, and J's muscles tensed with the stresses of the days churning themselves into slight anger. "You're no fun." Beth finally said. "Can you just fuck off? I'm not in the mood for any of your usual brattiness. It's been a rough fucking day, and I'm still waiting for the other foot to drop, because god knows my dad'll find something about today to pick me apart over." Again, another silence. "Couldn't have been that bad." "Are you even fucking listening?! I walk in here like a drowned cat, after a day of having a group of people who could annihilate me, and everyone I've ever loved, breathing down my neck, I haven't even had all this reviewed by my dad yet, and on top of all that, you're acting like a spoiled cunt." Beth lingered on the words silently, pretending to be uninterested and unbothered, and truly so much more interested in the crack addict on screen than any of what J was saying. His eyes narrowed as anger festered inside of him. Usually, it took a lot for him to get angry with her, but this was the last straw. He scowled at her, waiting for an apology, or at the very least some acknowledgement. Beth stood up. And started to walk away. J got up, walked towards her, and pinned her against the wall. He wasn't going to put up with her attitude after all of this. He wedged a knee between her legs to pin her in place, but also used his shoulder for good measure. "Don't you have anything to say? Something?" Beth shrugged and looked up at him. "Why don't you show me how bad your day was?" His anger was temporarily replaced with confusion. "Show you...?" "Y'know. Take it out on me. Relax a bit. Show me how bad your day was." J stared at her densely, still not entirely getting what she was getting at. She sighed and pulled him down into a kiss, and suddenly his body relaxed as everything mentally clicked into place. He wasted no time in running his hands all over her body, the body he knew so well. Beth hopped up a bit, wrapping her legs around him, and shimmying his boxers down with her feet. She reached down, slowly stroking his cock, feeling him buck into her hand slightly. J pushed her sweatpants down as far as he could get them, considering her current position, and started to attack her neck. Dark hickeys and bruised bite marks started to appear, and she whimpered quietly into his ear. Then, without warning, he pushed up into her. She cried out, pressing her face into the nape of his neck, and holding onto him tight. "You still sure you wanna know how bad my day's been?" He purred into Beth's ear, moving his hips around slightly. Not enough to get her off, but enough to drive her crazy. "A-absolutely..." she whispered, wrapping her legs around him tighter, silently pleading. She gritted her teeth, as he thrusted into her roughly and without any regard. It was painful, but her favourite brand of painful. Meanwhile, J was dead set on making sure he relieved as much stress as possible, sadistically drinking in the loud, slightly pained, moans. He bit at her collarbones hard enough to draw blood, especially in the marks left by his canines. He pressed one palm into the wall to steady himself, because it was likely J would break Beth's ribs if he pressed against her any harder. He wanted to be as close to her, and as rough with her, as possible. Beth was in too much of a pain and pleasure driven stupor to do much more than moan and encourage him, and hang onto him as tight as possible, her nails leaving tiny rips in his hoodie where they begged to grasp onto some skin. Her voice cracked slightly on every breathy please, yes, and cuss that came out of her mouth. J had forgot most of the details of his day, but hadn't lightened up by any means. His palm had left a crack in the drywall. He took it off of the wall, wrapping it around his tiny partners throat. That was the last straw for Beth. She attempted to form a coherent sentence of sorts, but struggled to force anything out of her mouth, and not just from the death grip J had on her throat. "J— sh-A-ah, I-I'm— fuck—" He could feel her nails puncture his back slightly as she went over the edge, unable to force out anything more than a whimper. J stood on his tiptoes to push up more, as he came, exhaling deeply. The silence was back, but with a much fuzzier, happy tone to it. "Very rough day." J said quietly. "I think you bruised my cervix." Beth responded. "Do you feel better?" He nodded, pulling out, and pushing her sweatpants back up around her hips. He pulled his boxers back up, carrying Beth into the bedroom and laying on the bed. The couple lay, intertwined, sweaty, and exhausted. "Are you meeting with them again anytime soon?"