#❜ — felt a sudden sense of urgency. / answered: asks.

[improbable-outset]

for an angst/whatever else Miguel fic

what about an inexperienced reader who has a shitty bf and he makes a cruel joke at her expense in front of people, including miguel, who's her boss and later or something miguel comments on it to her and it can either lead to smut or fluff, your choice 💓

Hi anon, thanks for the request. I might’ve gone a little carried away with this one heh…

📄 𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐞

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.7k

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Toxic relationship, Manipulative and controlling behaviour, humiliation, alcohol consumption, unresolved pinning 👀, fluff and comfort, intimate tension.

𝐀/𝐍: WE ARE SO BACK. While writing this, I’ve discovered that writing toxic characters is actually kinda fun and amusing, especially with dialogues

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: During a company dinner party, you find yourself humiliated by your current boyfriend. Seeking some escape, you confide with your boss, Miguel, whose support reveals some hidden emotions you’ve buried.

Your reflection stared back at you blankly as you fixed the strap of your dress for the umpteenth time. Despite the dress fitting you perfectly, you couldn’t stop yourself from anxiously adjusting it— even if there was nothing to fix.

Social events were always outside of your forte but you wanted to put yourself out there, especially given the fact that it was an event from your work.

You wanted to look your best for tonight and make yourself as presentable as you could, leaving a lasting impression outside of the work environment.

You quickly patted the beads of sweat that were forming from your forehead before touching up on your makeup.

“Are you ready?” A male voice called out from outside the room. Your chest clenched slightly, a sudden sense of urgency washing over you.

“Almost,” there wasn’t much for you to do now but you didn't want to leave the house just yet.

Not a moment passed before Adam stepped in the room. He had a tone build and wore a dress shirt with contrasting dark pants for the occasion. His hair was combed back and he was growing out a stubble that gave a charming feature to his look.

Adam’s held his gaze on your form, eyeing you and your outfit. You felt a tinge of self consciousness until you saw a small amused smile on his face.

“What?” You asked teasingly.

“Nothing,” he stated, his line of sight still sweeping over you. “You look phenomenal, as usual.”

The compliment made your chest warm. You met Adam through a mutual friend at work. Before you got together, you were typically more reserved and kept conversations with everyone to a minimum.

But Adam would always try to spark a conversation with you, even when you gave him one worded answer. He even tried to invite you to socials outside of work with your other co-workers in an attempt to get you to open up.

Though you knew it was only an excuse for him to get to know you and to get your attention, even if it was just disguised as a regular polite conversation. Eventually you caved in to him and a few friendly conversations later, he asked you out.

You took another look in the mirror. There was something missing in the look. You reached over to your vanity drawer and pulled out one of your favourite lipstick shades before putting it on.

Adam leaned over to see your reflection in the mirror and frowned. “Oh…are you wearing that shade of lipstick again?”

You turned to look at him. “Yeah. What’s wrong with it?”

“It doesn’t suit you,” he said simply, his tone casual but the words stinging like a slap. It was one of your favourite lipsticks, a shade you thought complimented you well. No one had ever said otherwise.

“Really? Everyone has said that it matches with my complexion,” you arched your brow in confusion to disguise how bothered you were.

“Well, I’m telling you that it doesn’t look good on you,” he further added. All the reassurances you felt from the compliment you received was replaced with a dull ache.

“I wore it on our first date and you said that you loved it.”

You remembered you were feeling nervous and thought you didn’t look good enough. But Adam reassured you that you look beautiful and that was enough to lift your mood throughout the entire date.

But after hearing his comment just now, you didn’t know what to feel anymore.

“I said I liked the outfit, not the lipstick specifically,” he corrected.

“Should I take it off then?” Reluctantly, you picked up a tissue from the box with trembling hands, ready to wipe it off your lips.

Adam didn’t reply, instead looking at his watch impatiently.

“Look, we need to leave now if we want to avoid the traffic. Meet me in the car in five minutes,” he instructed, completely dismissing your question before leaving the room abruptly, now driven by urgency.

Just to save yourself from hearing him point it out again, you wiped off the lipstick from your lips. However, before you left the room, you packed the lipstick in your purse. A small act of defiance.

As you made your way to the car, you saw Adam fumbling with the glove compartment from the passenger side. Whatever he was looking for, he managed to find it and keep it hidden from your view before you could open the passenger side door.

You stepped in and buckled yourself up before you closed the door behind you. Unintentionally, you closed it harder than you intended, causing Adam to jolt in response.

“Hey, hey easy with the door babe-” he reprimanded, his voice tinged with annoyance.

“What?”

“Are you trying to break the car?” He tried to lighten the mood with a small smirk but failed— his feeble lightheartedness faded like over washed denim.

“I didn’t slam it that hard.” You quipped back.

Adam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. You could tell that he didn’t want to dampen the mood and argue about this, especially now.

Defuse the spark before it gets ignited.

This wasn’t the first time you fought about something trivial. He left the argument hanging and pulled out a small box.

So this was what he was getting from the glove compartment…

“Here, I got this for you,” His voice switched like a flipping coin, as he opened the box to reveal a necklace. Your eyes widen, taking in the sight of the jewellery that glistened under the low lighting in the car.

The necklace was a silver chain with a pendant that matched with the dress you were wearing. He took the necklace out of the cushion packaging and gestured for you to come closer.

“Come here. Let me help you put it on,” he said. You leaned forward so he could reach the back of your neck.

His fingers grazed on your skin as he fastened the clasp, an act that felt almost too intimate given the recent tension. The coolness of the metal brushed against your neck.

“It’s beautiful. But what’s the occasion?” You asked, one of your hands reaching to touch the pendant. It sat on your neckline perfectly.

“Do I need a motive to give you a gift? I thought these things would be more spontaneous if they came from the heart,” he said as he put on the car's ignition. The engine hummed to life and Adam drove off the driveway with one hand on the wheel.

The car was bathed in his cologne smell. It wasn’t his usual signature scent that he used everyday. This has a spicy undertone to match the occasion, though you preferred his usual scent to this. The aroma seemed to cling into the air and linger long after he sprayed it. You didn’t want to admit that it was too strong for your liking.

You cruised through the streets smoothly and watched as you passed each building and property. Adam glanced over at you from the corner of his eyes, lingering for a moment before he spoke.“You know, I hope you can handle yourself tonight.”

His eyes went back on the road, leaving you perplexed from his comment. Did he think you needed babysitting?

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve noticed you’ve been keeping to yourself a lot lately.” He said, teetering with the edge of criticism before he continued. “Don’t you think you should be a bit more sociable at these events? It’s not a good look to be the quiet one in the corner,”

You frowned at that. You knew that navigating through small talks wasn’t your strongest suit but you didn’t need him to tell you how to act. It felt patronising.

“Are you seriously concerned about that? I always preferred to let my work speak for itself.”

“But this isn’t another day in the office, this is a dinner party,”

“I think I’ll be fine,”

“We’ll see,” There was an edge to his response that made your gut twist.

The car fell quiet between the two of you, with the only sound being the low hum of the engine and the occasional honks from passing cars.

Adam broke the silence again, desperate to kill the awkward tension that he had caused. “So, are you looking forward to the event at least?”

“Yeah, it should be interesting. I don’t think they’ve done anything like this before,”

“You’re right,” he said “It might be the new HR coordinator they hired. Seems like they’re trying to make a good first impression.”

Your destination was coming into view now. The venue where the event was taking place was not too far from the main facility building, making it convenient for the employees that were attending.

It was the company’s 25th anniversary so there were a lot of guests attending, which also meant the car park outside the venue was packed. Adam had to drive around the block— you didn’t miss the annoyed scowl on his face— before he found a decent spot to park.

After killing the engine you both stepped out of the car and made your way to the gate. The entrance was dotted with recessed floor lights, highlighting the pathway along with flowers that adorned the grass area.

You recognised a few of your colleagues from your department. It was refreshing seeing them outside of their work attire and in more festive wear.

Stepping inside, you were first introduced to the complimentary drinks before the main hall that was beautifully decorated. The sound of heels clicking and glass clinking bounced off the walls. The company really went far out to organise this, and you had to admit, you were impressed.

The tension from the car ride still lingered in your mind, but you were determined to make the best of the event, despite the rough start. The buzz in the room helped you forget about your unease.

As you padded further into the room, you spotted a few familiar faces from your department. Jess, one of your closest coworkers and best mentor you’ve had, caught your eye and approached you with a welcoming smile.

“Hey, glad you two could make it,” she greeted you.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Adam replied.

Jess leaned in for a hug, and you returned with air kisses on each cheek. She stepped back to admire your outfit. “You look incredible. That dress looks so good on you, girl.”

A sense of gratitude washed over you at that. “Thanks, Jess.”

“We’ve saved you a space on our table at the back,” she said before you all made a beeline through the throng of people.

As you made your way to your seats, you caught sight of Miguel, your boss, from the corner of your eye. You turned your attention over to him momentarily, while still following Adam and Jess towards the back.

His height and physique naturally drew attention. Or maybe it was the way he had presented himself tonight. You didn’t know what it was that made him seem more alluring.

His outfit wasn’t vastly different from what you would normally see at work. He wore a well-fitted blazer that accentuated his form.

It wasn’t tight enough to show off his bulging muscles overtly, but it wasn’t loose either. A balance of both, maintaining a modest look that still seemed to draw wondering eyes.

Adam pulled out a chair for you, an unexpected show of chivalry, before taking his own seat. You couldn’t help but pick up on his charms and how his mannerism was a stark contrast to his earlier demeanor back in the car.

You and Jess caught up and chatted for a while. You twisted your body so you could fully face her but as you did, your elbow accidentally knocked over a glass of water. If it weren’t for Adam’s quick reflexes and catching it before it tipped over, the water would’ve spilled all over you.

“Careful babe, that would’ve been a disaster,” Adam said with a hint of concern.

You still felt your nerves spiked from the small shock but it was quickly relieved when Adam placed the glass safely away from the edge. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see that glass there,”

He peered at you with an unreadable expression. You had an uncomfortable feeling that he was going to say something condescending but you couldn’t tell.

A sly smile played on his lips. “It’s alright, babe. Hey, do you remember when you spilled coffee all over the table during your interview?”

You felt like your heart was going to lurch out of your chest. That was a moment you would rather forget, especially in front of the people you work with every day.

You noticed a few of your colleagues at the dinner table glancing over at you. Their eyes felt like lasers, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at them.

“Did she really do that?” You heard one of them asked, you didn’t want to find out who.

You felt a hint of irritation that they didn’t address the question directly at you. It was as if you were invisible, a subject of gossip.

Adam let out a chuckle before he said, “Yeah, I’m surprised she even got the job after that. If it were me, I would’ve been too embarrassed to show my face again,”

You could feel multiple eyes on you as Adam recounted the story. This wasn’t something that you would like to share with anyone else, so you didn’t understand why Adam was telling everyone as if he were sharing an amusing anecdote. It felt like betrayal.

It had taken you a while for you to open up to Adam enough for you to share some embarrassing stories like that. Knowing that he was going to share them like an open book so casually felt like an icy grip around your throat.

Despite your silence and reluctance to look at everyone, Adam seemed oblivious to your discomfort. Either he was ignoring you, or was blinded by his bravado to even notice. Jess managed to see your change in demeanor and how quiet you were all of a sudden.

“Maybe we should talk about something else,” she suggested, placing a hand on your shoulder as a silent comfort. Everyone seemed to agree and the conversation steered away from the topic of you.

As the evening progressed, you managed to emerge out of your shell again from your previous embarrassment. You engaged in light conversations with your colleagues, though you found yourself listening more than talking.

Throughout the interactions, you didn’t notice a familiar pair of eyes that was observing you from afar and picking up on all of your body language silently.

The food served was exquisite and left everyone more than satisfied. Between courses, the CEO took the stage to give a speech, thanking everyone for their hard work and dedication throughout the years.

A loud round of applause erupted in the room, accompanied by smiles from everyone. You could feel the sense of unity and camaraderie in the room.

Dinner was followed by an open bar, which meant more mingling. There were more guests now after dinner than there were when you arrived, so the room felt more confined and bustling.

The mixture of alcohol and perfume smelled like an intoxicating fume. Adam effortlessly moved around from one group of people to another, his presence was booming with flamboyance wherever he went.

He was able to attract people’s interest with his bold body language and confident speech.

You, on the other hand, focused on the small group you were sitting with. You decided to stay at the table, enjoying the conversation and occasionally chiming in with your input.

As you were lost in the office gossip that everyone was exchanging, Adam approached your table with a drink in hand. He leaned in to kiss your cheek before he took a seat next to you.

You didn’t miss the looks that some of your female colleagues flashed at you both. You couldn’t tell if it was jealousy, but it definitely sent a prickly sensation through you. How charming…

“Enjoying yourself?” He asked, his tone casual and calmer now.

“Yeah, it’s nice catching up with everyone,” you shifted wearily in your seat.

Adam’s gaze locked onto you as you took another sip from your drink. His stare felt like poking needles and you could tell that he was going to say something.

“You might want to be careful there, babe. Remember the incident last time…”

“Adam please,”

“…you threw up on the sidewalk? You’re lucky no one else was around to see you,”

Your grip around the glass tightened and you wanted to plummet through the floor. You started to wonder if his bold personality and ability to entertain people in a conversation came at the expense of embarrassing others for some laughs.

Being the ass of the joke.

Did he feed off of the attention? Was that why he kept doing this? You noticed no one was laughing. Some gave you sympathetic looks, while others felt awkward.

Adam took this opportunity to add on to the story, his voice resounding with pride. “And I had to carry her home. I felt like a hero that day,”

You forced a smile to try and disguise your discomfort that flickered in your eyes. At this point you didn’t know how to respond or act. But the last thing you wanted was to cause a scene, especially over a comment.

You waited until the subject of the conversation changed again so you didn’t look suspicious before you rose from your seat.

“I’ll be back,” you said as you took a few steps away, excusing yourself from the group. “Just need to freshen up,”

You left the bar and made your way to the end of the room. There was the dreadful feeling that everyone in the room was staring at you as you swiftly manoeuvred past them. The desire to escape the room intensified with each step.

Finally, you reached the door to the patio and stepped outside. Thankfully, there were only a few people scattered around, making it easier to uncoil the tension that built up inside you.

You took a deep breath, filling your lungs with the fresh air — a relief from the stuffiness inside. Even with the different environment and open space, you still felt the modification catching up to you.

“Is he always like that?” A sudden, familiar rich voice pulled you out of your misery.

You turned to see Miguel standing a few steps behind you. “What?”

He looked striking now that you were up close to him, with the soft glow of the patio light highlighting his features.

His expression was serious when he said “Your boyfriend, Adam. Does he always treat you like that?”

You blinked, swallowing thickly before you spoke. “Oh…yeah. He just has a habit of making jokes like that. It’s just his humor,”

“Interesting sense of humour he has, making you the punchline every time,” he paused, his gaze drifting towards the clear night sky before returning to you. “I find it amusing that you’ve gotten used to being treated like that,”

“Well, he’s my boyfriend…I shouldn’t be—”

“You know, being someone’s boyfriend doesn’t give him the excuse to humiliate you. Why do you keep defending him like this?”

Truthfully, you didn’t know why you kept making excuses for him. Maybe it was easier to downplay the situation than confront reality. You didn’t want to make a big deal out of something that wasn’t that serious in the first place— or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

“He’s not always like this. He’s supportive in other ways. But he does get carried away sometimes,”

“Supportive? Do you mean when he points out your mistakes in front of everyone?” He arched his brow, obviously skeptical.

His words shook you but you had to admit, you didn’t believe your own words, especially after tonight.

“I don’t want to seem too sensitive. I’ve been with him for so long. It’s hard to think about leaving him…”

“Don’t let history keep you in place. You shouldn’t lower your standards just because he’s your boyfriend,”

There was a pause that hung between the two of you. The chilling air was nipping at your bare arms now but you didn’t want to step back inside.

The muffled chaos that you could still hear was enough to make your brain melt. You turned to look at the door that led back inside the bar, a sickening feeling churned inside your stomach.

“I don’t want to go back in there yet,” you admitted.

“Then don’t.” He followed your line of sight before he looked back at you. “We can stay out here for as long as you need to,”

You didn’t speak again after that. Your mind seemed to drift to the facility building that wasn’t far from here. The thought of a quiet secluded space was becoming increasingly appealing now.

You noticed the flicker of curiosity that crossed Miguel’s face as you looked far ahead before realisation gradually dawned on him. He seemed to pick up on your gaze and spoke your mind for you.

“You know, my office isn’t far from here,” he commented, voice boarding a suggestive tone.

“Yeah…I know,”

“Why don’t we head there instead? We can stay there as long as you want without being interrupted,”

“I don’t know…” You knew you didn’t want to be here anymore, but you couldn’t just leave, especially unannounced.

“There’s no one there at this time, and it’s quieter than this place,”

The offer was tempting, but what would Adam say? “I can’t leave Adam here,”

“You still think you need to be with him?” He let out a dry chuckle, stepping closer towards you. “Let him fend for himself for a while. I could tell you weren’t having a good time in there,”

You thought about it for a moment. What was the harm in stepping out for a little while? Adam couldn’t say anything if he didn’t know, right? You did owe it to yourself after everything that had happened, after all.

“Alright,” you agreed. Before you knew it, you were walking towards the car park and stepped into Miguel’s car and on your way. It didn’t take long until you arrived outside the familiar surroundings of the establishment.

The slick glass exterior of the building stood out in the night. During the day, it would be bustling with people coming in and out through the revolving doors.

Now, it was quiet and not a sound could be heard. But even if the building wasn’t running its usual course, there were still some occupants inside with a few of the lights on.

As you made your way inside to Miguel’s office, there was a comfortable silence. Miguel’s presence felt like a calming anchor in the sea of your anxiety.

Once you made it outside his office, Miguel held the door for you to step in. “After you,”

Miguel flickered the lights on before closing the door with a click, sealing off the blaring noise of the outside world. “It’s quieter here. You can take a breath,”

His office gave a different aura at night compared to what you were used to in the day time. The windows that provided a stunning view of Nueva York twinkled with the city lights. You couldn’t help but stare out in awe.

You turned back to look at him and he handed you a water bottle. “Thank you, Miguel,”

The condensation of the water bottle felt cool against the pad of your fingers.

By now the alcohol was settling in your bloodstream, creating a gentle warmth that radiated in your chest. You felt like you were floating as you walked over to take a seat on one of the plush chairs.

You were starting to notice that the alcohol made you forget about Adam and his concerns about your whereabouts and what he might think or say.

You cracked open the bottle and took a small sip, the cold water tickling your throat.

“So, how have you been handling things lately?” Miguel asked, taking a seat on his usual office chair.

You were grateful the topic wasn’t centered around Adam anymore. You didn’t want to linger on the sting of his words and actions from earlier.

“Well, I’ve been working on that new project proposal so that has been consuming most of my time,”

“I’ve noticed your dedication and your work on the proposal has been impressive so far,” Miguel’s voice carried a note of genuine admiration.

“Thank you…it means a lot hearing that from you,” you replied. You felt a sudden tingling sensation coarse through you and you knew it had nothing to do with being under the influence.

It was a mystery to you but Miguel’s compliments seemed to resonate with you, making your heart quicken slightly. You didn’t feel this type of effect with Adam, not even at the start of your relationship.

Miguel gave a small nod, his eyes studying your keen interest. “I’ve noticed you prefer working alone rather than in a team. You seem more comfortable that way,”

You were taken back slightly by the subject change. Where was he going with this?

“I guess I do. Sometimes it’s easier to focus that way,”

“It’s important to have people who support you. Do you have someone like that?”

Despite trying your best not to think about it, the question pulled your mind back to Adam. After all, he was supposed to be your support system, the first person you go to. “I thought I did but I’m not so sure now,”

You didn’t know what you were expecting after tonight. Miguel seemed to pick up on who exactly you were thinking about.

“How do you really feel about you and Adam?” He asked.

You recalled the conversation before you left the house for the party, when you were still getting ready. You still remembered putting on the lipstick and how you thought you looked good before Adam’s remark.

That wasn’t the first time he had put you down like that when your confidence was at your high. Did he feel threatened by your self-assurance?

“Well, he’s always been charming but recently he’s been more…critical, especially in front of others. I don’t know where this change of character came from.”

As you spoke, you felt yourself unraveling all of your true inner thoughts about Adam now— one’s that you tried so hard to push away just to salvage your relationship.

Perhaps some liquid encouragement and having the right person to talk to was needed for you to loosen your tongue and finally admit all of this.

“Sometimes, people reveal their true colours under pressure,”

You pondered that. Maybe Adam was trying to fit in and had some unresolved issues. Whatever it was, that didn’t justify his actions and the way he treated you.

You bit your lip, feeling a surge of conflicted emotions. “It has been a lot to handle tonight. I never expected him to be so cruel. Part of me wants to stay and fix things, but at the same time….I want something more,”

You didn’t know why it took you this long to finally confess it but now that you did, the air left lighter.

“You deserve something more.” Miguel said softly. His words, though simple, charged with meaning and something more. Affection?

You were so lost in a trance when opening up your emotions, you haven’t realised the close proximity between the two of you. Close enough to capture the faint smell of his sweet musk.

It made you wonder if he was talking about something beyond your professional ambitions. Miguel leaned closer— either he was studying your expressions or memorising your features.

However the moment was cut short when your phone suddenly vibrated in your purse, shattering the fragility in the room and yanking you back to reality. Startled by the sudden noise, you fumbled in your purse to retrieve your phone.

You felt bile creeping up your throat when you saw Adam’s name on the notification. The text was short but jarring.

‘Where are you? We need to talk’

Shit…

Adam needs to get decked ‼️

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @cl3stevu @tarjapearce (GIRL I GOT INSPIRED BY YOUR TENTATEUR FIC OMLL) @lazyjellyfish300 @kavimoo @laysmt

@mybvalentine @boringpersonality @mun-2996 @leshasnolife @slut4oscarissac23

I was originally going to add smut to this but it didn’t feel right. Especially the position that reader is in here. If this does end well, I MIGHT do a part 2 where she finally ends things with Adam and smut

Ayrus xoxo

[lvrdrafts]

No Time To Lose

Summary: Bucky is going to confront you for why you have been avoiding him but when he comes home he finds out you have been kidnapped

Warning: Mentions of kidnapping and torture

Part 1 Part 3

Bucky couldn't bear the growing distance between you any longer. He knew he had to talk to you and stop the tension that had been building. The constant absence of your touch, your laughter, and your presence had made him realize just how much he needed you.

One evening, as he mustered up the courage to have the conversation, he decided to surprise you at home. He wanted to show you that whatever he did wrong he deeply regrets it and stop whatever had caused this sudden change in your behavior.

However, when Bucky entered the apartment, he found it eerily quiet. The atmosphere felt heavy, and his heart clenched with a sense of foreboding. He called out your name, but there was no response.

Panic surged through his veins as he quickly searched every room, hoping to find you. It was then that he noticed something off—a broken vase on the floor, shattered glass scattered across the room.

Bucky's hands trembled as he desperately dialed your number, hoping against hope that you would answer. But each ring went unanswered, intensifying his anxiety. Fear gnawed at his heart as he realized something was terribly wrong. Where were you? Why weren't you picking up?

Unable to waste any more time, Bucky quickly dialed Sam's number, his voice filled with urgency. "Sam, it's Y/N. She's in trouble. I can't reach her, and I don't know where she is. I need your help."

Sam's voice conveyed his concern as he responded, "Don't worry, Bucky. I'm on my way. We'll find her together. Just hold on."

Bucky's mind replayed every moment, every conversation, searching for any signs he might have missed. Anything that could show what had happen to you. Bucky's mind raced with worry as they searched for any sign of your whereabouts. Doubt gnawed at his thoughts, questioning every decision he had made leading up to this moment. Did I miss any signs that something was wrong? Should I have noticed your distress sooner?

But as the minutes ticked by, Bucky's conviction grew stronger. Deep down, he knew you would never willingly leave him without a word. Your love had been genuine, your connection real. It didn't make sense that you would simply disappear without a trace. His gut told him that something was terribly wrong.

That is when he saw Sam walk in with a computer in his hand. "Well I asked the landlord for the security cameras and he was happy to give it to Captain America." Sam says laughing trying to lighten the mood as he sits down, but no reaction from Bucky. "Well what did you find?" Bucky says eagerly. "I see that Y/N got captured while heading in, but its a little blurry to see the number plate." Sam says while showing Bucky "But I do know someone who can get it, wait here." Sam walks out to make a phone call.

The guilt intensified, a suffocating presence that threatened to consume him. He blamed himself for not being there, for not protecting you when you needed him the most. His mind raced with a barrage of "what ifs" and self-recrimination.

Sam comes back awhile later to inform Bucky he found where Y/N is held captive and they rush off to find you.

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Y/N's heart raced as she found herself trapped, held captive by Brock. She knew Bucky would come for her, and she held onto that hope tightly. But the more Brock tortured he, she felt as if all that hope was slipping away.

"Poor, poor Y/N I really thought your boyfriend would save you" Brocks says putting a knife near your neck. "I can't believe he would let someone as precious as you thrown away"

"I don't give a fuck what you believe" you say spitting at brock

Brock punches you and you feel blood come out of your moth. "You need to learn to not be a bitch, before we can play". You can see the look Brock gave you and it didn't make you feel good. He starts to walk away and comes back with collar and puts it on you. You try moving your neck but you feel a sudden pain of electrical shocks.

He lifts your chin up "You better hope your boyfriend comes in time, because a few more shocks and your dead" he says with a smile while he walks outs.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

A few hours later you see the door open in but the tears in your eyes make it hard for you to make out the figure. There was so many of Brock's henchman here you couldn't tell which one was Brock or not.

That is when she caught a glimpse of Bucky hiding behind some crates. Bucky gave you a soft smile while he disapeared into the dark.

However, luck seemed to elude him as a creaking floorboard betrayed his presence. The sudden sound alerted Brock's henchmen, who immediately converged on Bucky, trapping him within their grasp. Bucky's heart raced as he found himself outnumbered, but he refused to back down.

As the first henchman lunged at him, Bucky swiftly dodged the attack. He retaliated with a powerful punch, sending his assailant crashing into a nearby wall. But there was no time to savor the victory as the others closed in, their fists flying.

Amidst the chaos, Bucky caught a glimpse of Sam swooping down from above. The familiar wings of his Falcon suit glinted in the darkness.

You saw while Bucky was fighting the henchman, Sam was taking you out of the facility and to the hospital. "You okay there, were almost to the hospital, then I'll go back for buck" Sam says holding you tightly as he brings you to the hospital. But you eyes start to close slowly, you didn't want to hold on for life anymore, you didn't want to be Bucky's burden, you just wanted some peace.

@vicmc624 @cjand10 @marygoddessofmischief @matchat3a @blue-chup @floralwsloki @kentokaze @internet-infuencer @666yourmomdotcom @zzziea @maddieislost @madi-is-kinda-lame @openup-yourmind @almosttoopizza @specialsnowflake-gabbi

[lvoryingrid]

Spring

Hawks x fem!Reader

Synopsis: As spring awakens, Keigo feels a primal call within. With his loving girlfriend, (Y/n), by his side, they journey into the wilderness, where nature's forces and Hawks' untamed instincts collide.

Warning: 🔞 minors do not read/interact: contains 18+ content, smut/erotica, breeding kink

The gentle breeze carried the sweet scent of blooming flowers as spring enveloped the world in a blanket of warmth. The first light of spring peeked through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the room. The melodious symphony of birdsongs filled the air, creating a harmonious backdrop to the awakening day. Amid this serene morning, Keigo, found himself roused from his slumber with an unusual unease settling within him. His crimson wings twitched restlessly as primal instincts surged through him, awakening a side of him that he couldn't quite comprehend.

Beside him, (Y/n) lay peacefully asleep, bathed in the morning sunlight that enhanced her already beautiful face. Keigo couldn't help but admire her serenity, the contrast to the turmoil that raged within him. He gently brushed a strand of (h/c) hair from her face, his touch tender yet tinged with a strange urgency.

Keigo couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. The air seemed charged with an energy he couldn't quite place, and all his senses were on edge. As he glanced down at his crimson wings, now twitching almost violently against his will, he knew that whatever was happening, was beyond his control.

A sudden heat spread through his body, starting at his chest and radiating outward. His heart raced, and his breath came quick and shallow. It was as if some primal instinct had taken over, driving him to act on impulses he didn't understand. He looked down at (Y/n) again, her soft skin now flushed with color, her chest rising and falling in rhythm with his own.

Soft breaths left her parted lips and her face was colored by the warm rays of the sun. The way the covers loomed over her body had him gulp at the sight. She looked so vulnerable, ready to be devoured by him and him only.

Keigo felt a powerful urge to claim her, to mate with her. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't help himself. With a growl that seemed to come from deep within him, he rolled over, pinning her beneath his figure. His wings spread wide, blocking out most of the light, casting the room into a warm, shadowy haze. He leaned in, warm lips leaving a trail of kisses on her exposed neck.

"Keigo…" she whispered, her eyes slowly opening, noticing the sharp look in his golden eyes. Keigo froze, every muscle in his body tensing. The sound of her voice, so soft and sweet, filled his ears, making his heart race. His eyes, already fixed on her face, widened in surprise. She was awake.

He didn't answer, couldn't answer. All he could do was feel. He lowered his head, pressing again his lips against her neck, inhaling her scent. It was intoxicating, driving him further out of control.

The sunlight streaming through the window cast a warm, golden glow over her features, making her look even more radiant than usual. Her (h/c) hair was a tangled mess around her, her cheeks flushed with sleep. She yawned, stretching her arms above her head before resting her palms against his feathers.

The contact sent a shiver of pleasure down his spine. Her touch felt so good, so right. His instincts screamed at him, begged him to breed her, to claim her as his own. He could feel his body growing hotter by the second, his desire for her becoming almost unbearable.

With a smile, she slowly traced her fingertips from his tense feathers to his shoulder blades as she asked "Isn't it a bit early for this?" Carefully, he nuzzled her neck, inhaling her sweet scent, his heart pounding against his ribs. "Early?" he managed to croak, his voice hoarse with desire. "Is it too early?"

She giggled, her breath tickling his feathers. "Well, it's not like we have anywhere to be today," she teased, arching her back slightly as he continued to nuzzle her. "And I must admit, I like the idea of starting the day with some…morning cuddles." Her hand trailed down his back.

As he roughly yanked the thin fabric from her body, her breath caught in her throat, her nipples hardening into tight buds. The air around them seemed to crackle with desire, and Keigo could feel his control slipping further away with every passing moment. He lowered his head, taking one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking gently at first before increasing the pressure, rolling it between his tongue and teeth.

Heat radiated from his body, and she felt his erection pressing against her hip. Her own desire, buried deep beneath her exhaustion, flared to life at his touch. She arched her back further, pressing her breasts against his mouth as he growled in pleasure.

Keigo leaned in closer, his hot breath fanning across her face. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, tracing his fingers along her collarbone. "I need you." He kissed her softly, his lips warm and demanding. She moaned into the kiss, her hips moving restlessly against his.

His wings spread wider, casting the room into deeper shadow, as if nature itself was conspiring to hide their forbidden act. He pressed closer still, his erection aching with need, and guided himself between her legs. Dark crimson panties covering her.

Her hands tangled in his hair, urging him on, and he could feel her hips begin to move against him in time with his touch. His other hand moved lower, caressing her stomach, teasing the thin fabric of her panties before finally sliding underneath to stroke her folds. She was wet and ready for him, and he groaned into her ear as he felt her body tremble beneath his touch.

He rolled onto his back, taking her with him, and pulled her legs over his hips so that she straddled him. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she looked down at him, her eyes clouded with desire. He could feel the heat emanating from his body, and it seemed to intensify the sensations coursing through him. His crimson wings spread wide, casting the room into a warm, shadowy haze, and he could feel the power surging through him, urging him on.

Keigo reached up, cupping her face with one hand, the other lay on her hip, he gazed into her (e/c) eyes as he thrust upward, burying himself deep inside her. She cried out, her back arching as she met his movements with her own, as both hands griped her hips bringing her closer, their bodies moving together in a rhythm that was both primal and intimate. Their skin slid against each other, slick with sweat and desire, and the air around them seemed to crackle with the force of their passion.

She was perfectly aligned, her wet heat encircling his cock, her breasts pressed against his chest. He arched his back, thrusting harder into her, his wings spreading wider to envelop them both in a cocoon of feathers and heat.

Her nails dug into his shoulders, leaving trails of pleasure and pain as she urged him on, meeting his thrusts with her own. Their hips moved in perfect rhythm, their bodies slapping together in a primal dance of lust and need. The sounds of their pleasure filled the room, echoing off the walls and mixing with the sweet song of the morning birds.

As their lovemaking intensified, Keigo could feel his body giving in to the primal urges that had taken hold of him. He lost track of time, consumed by the pleasure that (Y/n) was giving him. Her soft gasps and moans filled the air, mingling with the sounds of their passionate entwining.

The pleasure was almost too much to bear, but he didn't want it to end. And with one final thrust, he came, spilling his seed deep inside of her. His breath hitched as he felt her body tremble beneath him, signaling her own release.

Finally, his movements grew slower, softer, and he pressed his lips to her neck, whispering her name in a hoarse, ragged voice. She could feel his seed slowly leaking from her body, but she didn't care. All that mattered was that she was with him and that they had shared this moment, this connection.

(Y/n) collapsed on top of him, their sweaty bodies still joined together. He could feel her heart racing against his chest, their breaths mingling in the air. It took several long moments for him to regain control of his senses, and when he did, he was filled with a strange mixture of guilt and desire.

"Are you…okay?" he managed to ask, his voice still ragged from their passion. He could feel the warmth of her body against his, and it was a comfort he didn't want to let go of just yet.

She giggled, her breath tickling his ear. "I'm…fine," she replied, sounding a bit breathless. "It's just…you were so…rough." Her fingers traced gentle circles on his back, soothing the marks her nails had left behind. "I didn't expect you to be so…possessive."

Keigo chuckled, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. "I couldn't help it," he confessed, nuzzling her neck. "You're just so…irresistible." He kissed her softly, tasting the sweetness of her skin on his lips.

He kissed her, savoring the taste of her lips and the feel of her body pressed against his. As they continued to cuddle, the sunlight streaming in through the window cast a warm glow across the room, making it feel as if spring truly had returned.

Masterlist

[pupuyvs]

final

Kim Chaewon.

A name that sparked many emotions. To some it was hatred, to others it was fear, to most it was adoration and envy.

Envy was an interesting emotion to Chaewon, for someone to envy her life made no sense to her. Originally Chaewon would have understood, after all she was rich, life was easy to her. But as she looks back in her life, was her life worthy of envy?

She looks back to when she was five, when her sister was born, and the joy she felt when her father left two days after she was born with a mutter of disappointment of it being another girl, and her mother a month later. For them leaving her then month old sister meant it wasn’t Chaewon's fault they never came home, but instead their distaste for being parents in general.

She looks back to when she was eight, as she sees her driver get on his knees and beg to not be fired. A consequence that he is only facing because Chaewon didn’t want to go to piano lessons causing them to be five minutes late.

She looks back to when she’s ten and coming home early due to her father being home, the excitement of seeing his car in the driveway buzzing in her chest as she ran to his office. Only for it to disappear when he kneels to fix her shoelaces and whispers, “Don’t mess this up for me,” in her ear, when he stands another man and a girl her age appear, he only came back for a business arrangement.

She looks back to when she was twelve and begging her mother, who was in Europe, on the phone to let her try cheerleading after finding her mother’s old uniform in a box a maid was throwing out. And the happiness when her mother said yes, as thoughts of her mom taking time off to watch her compete filled her mind.

She looks back to when she was thirteen, sweat pouring down her face as she holds a cheer trophy, the heat of people patting her back in congratulations making her uncomfortable. Her head feeling light as she looked through the crowd with urgency looking for her parent’s faces, they had promised to be there after all. The way her heart dropped when her nanny parted the crowd and headed for her, a look of pity on her face as she revealed her parents couldn’t make it and how they would call her when she got home.

They never called.

She looks back to when she was fifteen and had her first classes without Yizhuo, Minjeong and Aeri. She remembered how a girl, whose name she can’t remember, sat beside her and shared her textbook with her, the shipment of hers being delayed. She remembers the girl’s pretty smile when Chaewon had invited her to sit at lunch with her and her friends. She remembers the way tears filled the girl’s eyes when Aeri loudly asked her what she was doing when she tried to sit at the table, and how she needed to know her place. And most importantly she remembers the pang in her chest when she looked at her for help and Chaewon looked away.

She never saw the girl after that.

Looking back at all of this, Chaewon asks herself, did she have a happy life?

To answer this, she needed to ask herself another question, this one more heavy, who was she?

Happiness has a different meaning to everyone, to know if you’ve had a happy life you need to be able to define what happiness is to you.

And Chaewon had no idea who she was.

If she were to ask others they would probably say Chaewon was a pretty rich cheerleader.

All shallow.

And was Chaewon truly that shallow?

She would love to say no, she was more than just those three things.

But was she? Was Chaewon more than just the pretty rich cheerleader?

She didn’t know.

Sitting in front of her vanity mirror as a woman tugs at her hair so it can be perfect for the night she had waited for since learning of its existence, Chaewon could only laugh, here she was, someone who others saw as the epitome of confidence now struggling with her own self identity, to the point where her own reflection was unrecognizable.

It made her feel sick.

She wants to blame Yizhuo, or even Jihye for this sudden dilemma, but she knows they were just catalysts in the inevitable downfall of Kim Chaewon.

Eighteen years is a long time to not have a sense of self. Too long.

But could anyone blame her? When you’ve never had to make a single choice for yourself, how can you define who you are?

To her parents she was their oldest, the heir to her fathers company.

To her friends she was the “leader” of their group.

To the school she was someone everyone wanted to be.

But as she stares at herself, Yizhuo’s words cycle through her head.

Chaewon was a coward.

“What a nice start,” she thinks to herself. Her train of thought is interrupted by a knock on her door. The door opens after she tells them to enter.

“You look so beautiful,” her mother says with a gasp.

After the night her parents met Jihye, she had expected her mother to leave just like her father the day after. However, much to her surprise her mom revealed she was staying until Chaewon’s graduation. And although Chaewon wanted to be nonchalant, she couldn’t help the childish excitement from the prospect of her mom being home.

“Thank you,” she says back softly.

Her mom nods before sitting on the edge of Chaewon’s bed.

The two sit in silence, the sound of the woman’s straightener closing and opening being the only sound in the room. Once the woman finishes she leaves, after thanking her the two Kims sit in silence once more.

After a bit she hears light thumping, in the reflection of the mirror sees her mom patting the space next to her on the bed.

Chaewon stands from her chair and moves next to her mother, sitting down she finds herself only being able to look at her hands.

“Chae…what's wrong,” her mother asks her.

“Nothing.”

“I can tell that’s not true,” her mother starts as she brings a hand up to Chaewon’s head and pushes back a piece of hair that was curtaining her face, “So tell me what’s wrong.”

Chaewon just shakes her head, she didn’t want to confide in someone that was essentially a stranger to her, even if the child in her wanted to.

She hears her mother sigh before letting them fall into silence. After a few moments her mom speaks again, “It’s that girl, isn’t it?”

Chaewon looks up in shock, she thought her mother had forgotten about Jihye.

Her reaction is all Yoona needed as she gives her a knowing smile, “It is. I’m assuming your fathers reaction had a part in it.”

At the mention of that night Chaewon closes her eyes, physically trying to bite back the nausea that overtakes her anytime she thinks of Jihye and how her actions and what she stood for harmed her.

“Wonnie,” the nickname her mom used to call her whenever she had to tell her she couldn’t make it to one of her events, “Baby, tell me what happened.”

The dam breaks.

Her mom brings her into a hug, and Chaewon immediately melts into.

“It’s okay baby, it’s okay.”

The words cause her to sob even more, like a child she grips tightly onto her mother’s shirt and buries her face into her shoulder.

The comfort of a parent was something she had yearned for for years. And finally, she had it, at the apex of her agony, where she has no sense of self, it was finally here, and it made her want to scream.

After a while she finds herself coming to a natural calm, embarrassment flooding her as she pulls away from her mother. When she gains the courage to finally look up at her, she’s surprised to see her eyes also filled with tears.

Yoona gently wipes her daughter’s face, “Feel better?”

Chaewon nods bashfully.

“Want to tell me what happened now?”

And to Chaewon’s surprise, she does. The words spill out of her like this was a regular thing her and her mom did, but it wasn’t. And maybe that’s why a few sentences in the doubts come in tenfold.

I don’t know why she’s acting like she cares now, she hasn’t for years. I’m going to tell her all of this and for what? Her to go to some other country months on end so she can’t follow up, ridiculous.

Chaewon has to wonder, are these thoughts a defining trait to her? Is spite something she is not only capable of, but something that should be expected of her? She hopes not.

When she finishes her spiel her mother is wide eyed, “Wow, that was…a lot,” she says, causing Chaewon to nod in agreement.

Chaewon waits with bated breath for her mom to continue, she always dreamed of telling her mom these things and receiving what she would deem as the best advice she could ever hear due to her mom’s wisdom.

“However, it sounds like you already know what to do.”

That's it?

Chaewon cannot stop the way her jaw clenches immediately, “What?”

Her mom shrugs softly, “From what you told me, it seems you already know what to do.”

Chaewon scoffs, “Of course, I don’t even know why I bothered. You have no idea what I’m going through, and never have, and that's why it’s so simple for you to write this off so easily.”

Impulsive.

Kim Chaewon is impulsive.

“You know what,” she says while standing up, “You’re right, I do got it. I know you used up all your yearly mother hours so you don’t have to stay anymore and pretend to care, especially over something you don’t understan-”

“Her name was Yuri.”

“What?”

“Kwon Yuri, she and her family inherited a mandarin farm in Jeju but to make some extra money she would work in my family summer home.”

Her mother pauses, before sighing, “She captivated me when I first met her for she was everything I wasn’t. She was kind, humble, resourceful, smart, god was she smart, and most importantly she was free. For the first time in my life, I was enamored with someone.”

Yoona laughs, one filled with a tinge of bittersweetness, “My parents used to wonder why I was so interested in going back to Jeju every summer instead of abroad with them, but I couldn’t tell them that I had…cared for someone who worked for us.”

Chaewon watches as her mother’s jaw clenches slightly, “Then the summer after I graduated came, and my parents revealed they were sending me abroad to study. We, Yuri and I, had written to each other constantly, letters were more personal, Yuri had said back then, but it wasn’t the same, we were growing apart. And then on my twenty-first birthday my parents revealed I’d be getting married to your father,” Yoona pauses, she takes a breath to calm herself, “Yuri…wasn’t happy to say the least. I had invited her to the wedding, which I know was stupid, but part of me back then wished that she’d come, and that she’d…”

Her mother doesn’t finish that sentence, the words “she’d save me,” going unsaid, but Chaewon knew.

After taking another calming breath Yoona looks up at her, a pained smile painting her face, “I tell you all this to say, I may not know exactly what you’re going through, but I know enough to understand, and to know what I don’t want you to go through. I said it sounded like you had it figured out because while you told me everything, everytime you mentioned that girl and the prospect of losing her you sounded just like me when I risked losing…her. The difference between us is you are far more braver than I am.”

Yoona reaches to the space next to her grabbing two papers and handing it to Chaewon, “I had originally gotten these for you and Yeonjun, I see now he is not the one you want, so instead use these for you and Jihye.”

Looking down, Chaewon's eyes widen as she sees two one-way tickets to anywhere.

“Mom, I can’t-”

Her mom cuts her off by putting a hand up, “Go explore the world with her.”

Chaewon’s eyes start to well with tears for the second time that evening, “What if she says no?”

“She might, but she also might say yes.”

Yoona stands from the bed with a clap, “Now let’s finish getting you ready, you have an important night.”

Chaewon nods before pausing, “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Do you regret not running after that woman?”

Yoona’s eyebrows furrow as she takes a moment to think, before shaking her head, “No, through I cared for her deeply, if I had ran after her I wouldn’t have had you and your sister, and I know I haven’t been the best mother in the world, but I would never trade you guys for anything.”

Not waiting for a response Yoona sits Chaewon on the chair in front of her vanity, “Now get ready the limo will be here in an hour.”

Chaewon pauses before gasping, “My dress, Jihye said she’d be wearing black today and the one I have planned out is matching Yeonjun’s colors.”

“I’ll have that all worked out, don't worry, just fix your makeup and I’ll bring you the dress.”

Chaewon nods as her mother reaches for her door to leave before calling for her once more.

“Yes?”

“Love you.”

She watches as a tear slides down her mother’s face before clearing her throat, “I love you too.”

And while Chaewon knows this moment with her mom won’t fix the years of pain she’s dealt with, however it’s at least a start.

The tension is heavy as Chaewon enters the limo.

On one side sat Yizhuo and Wonyoung, a big enough gap to show that Yizhuo was forced to be there with them.

Across from them sat Aeri and Minjeong, both sending glares at Yizhuo, Aeri more than Minjeong.

Since the party the group had not had a chance to make up with Yizhuo, partly due to lack of trying and Yizhuo focusing more on getting Jimin back than making up with her friends.

Chaewon had tried to reach out to Yizhuo but after her fifth text she found herself being blocked, though it had hurt she also understood, she hadn’t stood up for Yizhuo and due to her cowardice Yizhuo had lost the girl she had wanted since she first saw her.

Chaewon decides to sit in between Wonyoung and Yizhuo due to the couple opposite of them being disgustingly close, and secretly she had missed her best friend.

“New color I see,” Aeri comments to which Chaewon just nods back to, “It looks nice.”

Muttering a thanks, the limo falls into silence.

They soon run into traffic due to multiple high schools also having their prom that night.

Breaking the silence Aeri huffs in annoyance, “Okay Wonyoung, what the fuck is up with you?”

The question causes the youngest to freeze as the rest look at her. Chaewon had noticed that the girl was acting a bit strange, but out of consideration decided to not bring it up, Aeri had not done the same.

Yizhuo speaks for the first time since she’s gotten into the car, “Why don’t you just leave her alone?”

Aeri rolls her eyes, “And here comes Captain Yizhuo to save the day.”

“Fuck off, yeah?”

“No why don’t you fuck off? I don’t even know why you’re here, don’t you have a new friend group with your girlfriend?”

At the mention of Jimin Yizhuo sits up straight, “Don’t talk about her.”

“Or what,” Aeri asks, leaning forward.

“I’m dating Yujin!”

The group falls silent, and Chaewon looks at Wonyoung who looks shocked at what she had just said.

“What,” Chaewon asks.

Wonyoung winces slightly, “I’m…dating Yujin. And have been since the beginning of the year. An-And I don’t care what any of you think because I really like her, so!”

And though the girl had tried to say it confidently all the girls could see the nervousness written on her face.

Aeri leans back into her seat before turning to Minjeong, “You owe me that necklace.”

Minjeong groans as Wonyoung looks at the two confused, “What?”

Aeri turns to Wonyoung before shaking her head, “I caught you with the girl the other day in the chemistry lab, she was asking you to prom, I was gonna step in but you accepted, usually I would’ve put you on blast but…due to other circumstances I’ve decided to stay silent.”

Aeri ends her sentence by staring directly in Chaewon’s eyes, tilting her head to the side she gives her a knowing smile, “Is there anything you want to confess Chaewon?”

Panic is not an emotion Chaewon was familiar with, but now as Aeri stares her down, it’s all she could feel. She knows this is her defining moment, what she decides here lays the platform for the rest of her life. As crazy as it sounds it's the truth, if she lies here she loses Jihye and proves her mother wrong, that she wasn’t that brave. But if she tells them the truth, she has a chance to earn that title given to her by her mother, and she really doesn’t want to lose Jihye.

Yizhuo’s scoff is what stops her mind from reeling, “Some things never change.”

That’s enough for Chaewon to speak, “I’m dating Yoo Jihye, and if you have a problem with it I have no issue ending our friendship and keeping it business like it should’ve been from the start.”

All the girls look shocked, except for Aeri, who just looks amused, “You can calm down, I knew already.”

“What? There’s no way you did.”

“You’re right at first I had no clue, until the party. I mean when she approached you I was a bit confused, but I brushed it off she was terribly fucked up so maybe she was confused. But then Yizhuo had her temper tantrum,” this earns her the middle finger from said girl, “and it suddenly started clicking. What tied it all together is how annoyingly bitchy and depressed you became when she didn’t show up last week and most of this week.”

Chaewon’s eyebrows furrows at the revelation, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“At first I almost did, but like I said you were depressed as hell and I realized as long as it’s not crazy ass Yena or annoying Yeonjun, which I’m still confused about, I can let it slide. This doesn’t mean I understand, cause trust me I don’t, it doesn’t make sense whatsoever. However, since you’re doing all this it must mean she’ll be around in the future and since we’re stuck together I’ll try and understand.”

Chaewon could sob, but she refuses to ruin her makeup for the second time that night.

“Thanks Aeri.”

“Whatever,” she sighs, “This also extends to you two, if those…girls make you happy then so be it.”

Wonyoung immediately thanks her, while Yizhuo just nods.

The limo finally arrives at the venue the school had rented out for the night, a red carpet at the entrance, and one of their teachers acting like a valet stands at the front.

Their driver opens their door and holds his hand out for each girl to use as they get out. As the others enter, Chaewon stops Yizhuo, “Can I talk to you?”

The girl nods, albeit reluctantly and allows the Kim to drag her to the side.

Chaewon breathes out, “I’ve never done this before so bear with me…I’m sorry. I know I haven’t been the best friend to you and I didn’t stick up for you when I should’ve, but I’ve been thinking about what you said and you’re right I am a coward. A huge one, but I’d really like to not be one and-”

Yizhuo cuts her off, “Chaewon, relax.”

“I’m relaxed.”

Yizhuo laughs, “You’re not, but that's okay. You’re right about sucking at that, but I’m thankful you bothered to apologize. The truth is, I was a bit of an asshole too that night, I tried to push you to say you were dating Jihye and it wasn’t the right time at all. I took my hurt from Jimin leaving me and pushed it onto you, so I’m sorry too.”

Chaewon just nods before smiling at Yizhuo, “Does this mean we’re good?”

Yizhuo smiles before hugging the girl, “Of course, like Aeri said we’re stuck together.”

“Wait, how are you and Jimin?”

Yizhuo pulls back, her smile impossibly bigger, “We’re working on getting back together, we’re actually matching tonight.”

With that Yizhuo starts to drag Chaewon inside, both girls happy to have their best friend back.

Yizhuo had peeled from Chaewon’s side as soon as they entered the venue, looking for Jimin.

Standing to the side, Chaewon took this chance to look for Jihye, though it was proving to be difficult as the room was dark and their senior class was quite big.

Finally spotting her near the drinks Chaewon started to part through the crowd, people trying to stop her to say hi but none of them mattered now that she had seen the taller girl.

As she gets closer she sees Jihye talking to another girl, she immediately starts to glare when she sees its Natty.

“This girl just won’t stop,” she mutters to herself, before stepping closer to make herself known to the two, “Hi Natty, if you don’t mind I need to borrow my girlfriend really quickly.”

She doesn’t give her a chance to respond, the shocked look on her face satisfying enough, as she pulls Jihye onto the dance floor, a soft song playing now.

When she stops she finally faces the taller, everything is suddenly right with the world.

“What are you doing,” Jihye asks her, her tone not harsh but also not welcoming.

“Dance with me.”

“What?”

Chaewon sighs before wrapping the girls arms around her waist and her own around Jihye’s neck. Closing any gap between them she leans up to whisper in her ear, “Dance with me.”

When she feels the girl freeze, she smiles thinking she had her right where she wanted her, until Jihye pulls away from her. Grabbing her hand, Jihye pulls both of them to the hallway.

Once in the hallway Jihye turns to her, disbelief painting her face, “You can’t just walk in and act like nothing happened…”

And Chaewon wanted to listen, but the hallway was a lot brighter than the hall, and this is the first time she had seen Jihye closely since the party

Lifting her hand up she rubs Jihye’s face, tracing the bruises and cuts littering her face.

“Look what she did to you…does it hurt?”

Even though she’s frustrated with the girl she shakes her head, “Not as much anymore, but you would know that if you came to visit me.”

Chaewon sighs before removing her hand, Jihye immediately missing her touch.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I was scared,” at the look on Jihye’s face Chaewon immediately speaks again, “Not of anyone seeing me, of your reaction.”

“You still should’ve come, I needed you.”

Chaewon frowns at the girl’s words, “I’m sorry, about everything actually. I’m sorry about keeping you a secret, I’m sorry for forcing you to be okay with me and Yeonjun, I’m sorry for calling you selfish, and most importantly I’m sorry for stepping away from you at the party.”

Sighing, she looks away from the soccer player, “I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes, it’s just my whole life has been planned out for me since the moment I was born; the way I walk, the way I talk, how I dress, everything. Due to this I never even considered falling in love, until I met you.”

Chaewon chuckles to herself, “I heard I really suck at apologies so I guess what I’m trying to say is, I know who I am now is not worthy of you, but if you’d let me I’d really like to try and become worthy of you.”

Looking up, she's surprised to see tears filling Jihye’s eyes.

“I messed up again didn’t I? Disregard all that then, let me try this agai-”

She’s cut off by the girl hugging her, “You love me?”

It takes Chaewon a few seconds to catch what the girl said, too busy thinking about how nice it feels to be back in her arms, “I do,” she says after a few seconds.

Pulling away Jihye looks at her, “This doesn’t mean I forgive you, you hurt me really badly, but I really missed you and I really love you too.”

“Yeah,” Chaewon asks with a laugh, her hand going back up to Jihye’s face.

“Yeah,” Jihye says bringing her own hand up to hold Chaewon’s

“Good, this makes my next question easier, what do you think about coming to see the world with me?”

Jihye furrows her eyebrows in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“I mean my mom has gifted me two plane tickets to anywhere and I want you to come with me. Maybe earn you back under the Eiffel Tower,” Chaewon says nervously laughing, “You can say no of course, I know you have to prepare for Andong, but I don’t know I’d just like for you to come.”

“Chae…I..can’t accept that, I mean I can’t even afford that.”

Chaewon quickly shakes her head, “You don’t have to worry about the price, my mom will handle all that, just bring yourself.”

“I don’t know Chae…”

“Please, even if you decide you don’t want to be with me anymore I just would really like it if you came.”

Before Jihye could say anything else a voice comes from out of nowhere.

“Girl just say yes, when the hell will we ever have a chance like that?”

Turning they see Yujin, “My bad I saw you two walk out and decided to follow just in case. Not important, bro you gotta say yes.”

“Excuse me for a second,” Jihye says, pulling away from Chaewon.

Heading for Yujin she grips her shoulder and pulls her into a corner, where they start talking.

And though she should really be worried about what they’re discussing, Chaewon can’t help but notice how good Jihye looks in a suit, especially one matching her.

The conversation ends with Jihye getting hit in the back of the head and Yujin dragging her over.

“She’s going. Also, hi Chaewon, heard you accepted Wonyoung and I, which is like, super cool. Anyways, I’ll leave you guys to plan,” she turns to Jihye, “Be back in within the next 5 minutes before Jimin starts hunting, and you know she’s not as forgiving as us.”

Laughing as the other girl enters the hall again she turns back to Jihye, “I know she said yes, but I’d rather hear it from you.”

Jihye sighs softly, “This doesn’t mean I forgive you,” Chaewon’s heart soars, “like I said you hurt me, but…Yujin is right we never get chances like this and I’d be stupid to turn it down. Being with you is cool too I guess.”

Chaewon jumps on the girl hugging her tightly, “Thank you thank you thank you, I swear you won’t regret saying yes. I will grovel in every single country I swear.”

Laughing Jihye puts Chaewon down gently, “I’ll be holding you to that.”

Chaewon nods, “As you should.”

Grabbing her hand the two fall in a comfortable silence before Jihye speaks again, “We should probably go back in, they’re going to announce prom queen.”

But Chaewon doesn’t move leaving Jihye confused, “Chae?”

Chaewon just pulls Jihye to her, “I’m not in any rush, are you?”

Hugging the shorter girl Jihye shakes her head with a smile, “Nope, I’m too busy thinking about what countries I’m going to be enjoying myself in.”

“Yeah?”

Jihye nods.

Smiling Chaewon looks up at her causing Jihye to look down at her.

“I think I want to do that too.”

“Yeah,” Jihye asks.

“Yeah,” Chaewon answers.

Jihye pulls away with her hand out for Chaewon to grab, “Shall we then?”

Chaewon doesn’t respond instead she grabs her hand and begins to pull them, running through the venues hall towards the exit, a smile on both of their faces.

Kim Chaewon may not know much about herself, but she finds comfort in knowing one thing is certain, she is madly in love Yoo Jihye.

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[ssailormoonn]

❛ Clan Rules ❜

Hyuga Neji X Fem!Reader

WC; 1.3k + | TW/CW; fab!fem!Reader, just angst, ANGST!

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: can you write something with angst for neji hyuga? - @ipodic

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮𝐼𝒮 :: She never imagined falling in love with with him... The rules of the Hyuga clan are rigid and unforgiving, especially for those who are not part of it.

NARUTO/BORUTO MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

The moon cast its silver light over the Hyuga clan training grounds, shadows from the trees playing around in the cool night breeze. In actual fact, I had been looking forward to seeing Neji since his return from some mission, but by the time I reached him, something told me that all was not right.

He stood alone in the clearing, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his head bent as though lost deep in thought. He seemed to bleed sharp definition, cornered off from everything that was around him. The sharp definition that seemed to etch out of his very being had dulled, replaced with heavy, subdued weariness. Where normally intense focus shone out of his eyes, now it was but a shadow.

"Neji?" I whispered, tinged with just a hint of concern. There was no answer; it hung there, in the heavy silence between us and could have been cut with a knife. Of course, Neji wasn't going to let me get away with just worrying for nothing. "Is everything okay?" I said, finally taking a step closer, my hand going out tentatively to lay on him.

He winced at the sound of my voice, almost as though it caused him physical pain. A moment it was before he looked up at me, and something in the bogged emotion that plastered his face into a stiff mask I couldn't place. Regret? Guilt? His words came out slow, as if he had to force them into existence.

"There is something I need to say," he finally began in a tightened voice; that is, he could barely breathe out the words. It was very clear that what he needed to say was going to be hard—for him and probably even more so for me.

And then I felt like a ton of bricks were falling into my stomach as I stepped forth, trying to look him in the eyes, but Neji just kept looking down on the ground.

"What's wrong?" I said again, my voice now shaking and slurred with this rising sense of dread. My skin grew cold—a cold washing over the night air and through me—some sort of pressure weighing down on me, squeezing at my heart.

Neji finally broke the silence, and his next words seemed to weight heavy enough that my very breathing hitched as he said, "we can never see each other again." My world seemed to tilt; the earth seemed to shift under my feet. I never thought he would say those words to me.

"Why? What happened?" I asked, my voice shaking in desperation. The Hyuga clan have their rules, but we were so cautious. We had our meetings tucked away, out of the way, always away from prying eyes of the clan; it had to be enough. I thought we were safe.

My eyes barely saw Neji slump his shoulders, but it was a battle in that gaze once he lifted them. A battle full of conflict and sorrow. "It's the clan," he said not politely, sorrow thick now and voice low. "They don't allow relationships with outsiders. If they find out, they'll punish us both. I can't let that happen to you."

My eyes welled up in an instant, the vision blurring. "Neji, we'll find a way," I said, reaching out my hand towards him as he walked back, putting in the sudden distance that seemed insurmountable. "And we'll be careful. We can—"

"No." He cut me off with the shake of his head. His voice was tight with urgency in his actions. "It's not that simple. The Main Branch watches over everyone. If they find out, they won't just punish me. They'll come after you. But I can't risk that."

Each of his words was like a hammer inside me, the kind that was driven into my heart. I knew he was right. But it was a truth I did not want to accept. And I took another step forward, reaching out to place my hand against his cheek. I needed that connection. Any connection in this moment between us. His body tensed, the muscles tightening under my touch, but he didn't pull away. "Neji, please," I continued, tears streaming openly now. "''We don't have to give up. There's always another way.''

He closed his eyes a moment and leaned into my embrace, like a man hoping to find reprieve, if only for a moment, from a burden too heavy to bear. But it was a short-lived reprieve, and he pulled away, leaving a vacuum where my hand was. It was there in his eyes, not hidden, the pain reaching out to bang relentlessly on my heart. "My fate is sealed," he'd say, full of regret, his voice heavy. "But I can't change it, no matter how much I might want to."

It felt like this crumbling world; somehow, the ground split beneath my feet, leaving a deep abyss dividing us. I wish to God I could bring him back, somehow bridge that unyielding rift, which even the Hyuga clans' laws set before us. Challenging them would be to risk everything we both cared about—yes, maybe even our lives.

"Neji, please don't go," I implored, my voice raw and splitting. The tears streamed down my cheeks, and my heart ached in desperation. I wanted to fight for him, for us, but what was the use? The iron grip of the Hyuga household control was too hard, and any defiance might rip consequences on the heads of us both.

He gazed back at me, charged with the same sadness and lament that expressed in my eyes. "I wish it didn't have to be like this," he had that soft voice, where every spoken word became an essence of goodbye. "I will always care about you, but I cannot stay; it's too dangerous." And then he turned and walked away. The steps echoed through the silent night, cutting into my heart with every echo.

I wanted to argue with him, to tell him that we could fight this together, but his eyes told me it was useless. He wasn't just deciding; he was resigning himself to a life decided by others, his happiness cast aside to keep me safe.

I wanted to argue with him, to tell him we could fight this together, but the look in his eyes told me that would be pointless. He wasn't just making a choice; he was submitting himself to a life told by others, his happiness sacrificed on the altar of my safety.

"Neji," I whispered, fighting in my voice with the rust of leaves, "I just can't see my life without you." Every syllable seemed to be a plea, one for keeping from letting go what could not let through.

He stopped, a dark figure against the blue-gray glow of the moonset, and turned around over his shoulder to look back at me. There, in the silver brightness, I was able to see something shining forth from the pale eye—a glint of unshed tears. The scowl faded from his face, replaced by something more tender and reflective of the ache in my treated heart.

"Nor I," he admitted, the sound of his voice barely more than a thread in the darkness. All raw, vulnerable exposure, his admission bared depths of his own pain. "But you and I have to. It's the only way for me to keep you safe."

The moon cast a cold silvery hue over the empty training grounds, which would eventually play a role in the sensation of loneliness stealing over me.

So much I wanted to run after him, take him by the hand, and beg him not to leave, but nothing would alter.

It would only be worse for both of us.

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

MASTER LIST

NARUTO/BORUTO MASTER LIST

KONOHA MASTERLIST

[thedensworld]

Rewind Button | J.Ww

Pairing: Wonwoo x reader

Genre: angst, time travel, bestfriend

Summary: If Wonwoo had a time machine, he would definitely go to crash your wedding.

Warning: mention of arranged marriage, sexual abused, suicidal activity, depression.

TODAY IS MY BIRTHDAY! COMMENT YOUR WISH FOR ME HEHE🙈🙈

***

Wonwoo stirred from his sleep, disoriented and bewildered by his unfamiliar surroundings. He glanced around, his eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering through the curtains of his old apartment studio. Confusion clouded his mind as he realized he should be gearing up for an action scene shoot in just ten minutes, yet here he was, inexplicably back in his past.

Memories flooded back as he recalled the sensation of being in his car, the soft melodies of music playing in the background. But why was he here now?

Before he could fully process his confusion, the shrill ring of his phone shattered the silence, jolting him from his thoughts. With trembling hands, he reached for the device, his heart pounding with trepidation as he saw the caller ID: Mingyu.

It had been nearly five years since they last spoke, and the sudden call from his old friend only added to the surrealness of the moment. Wonwoo's mind raced with questions, his emotions a turbulent whirlwind as he hesitated before answering, unsure of what awaited him on the other end of the line.

"Hello," Wonwoo's hoarse voice greeted Mingyu, his mind still reeling from the surreal experience of being transported back in time.

A rush of urgency flooded through the phone line, Mingyu's voice filled with frantic energy. "Hyung! Where are you?! The ceremony will start in 2 hours!"

Wonwoo blinked in disbelief as memories of this very conversation, this same heated exchange with Mingyu, flooded his mind. It was a moment from the past, long gone, yet here he was, reliving it once again. Why was he experiencing this déjà vu?

"Hold on, Mingyu," Wonwoo managed to utter, struggling to process the situation unfolding before him.

"Hyung! Are you listening to me?" Mingyu's voice cut through Wonwoo's thoughts, pulling him back to the present moment.

"I'll be there," Wonwoo murmured softly before ending the call, his mind swirling with confusion and disbelief. As he hung up, a sense of unease settled over him, leaving him grappling with the inexplicable phenomenon that had just occurred.

As Wonwoo's mind raced, replaying the moments leading up to his unexpected reunion with you, his heart pounded with a mixture of apprehension and longing. He wasn't accustomed to making requests or wishing for things, always content to be the grateful, considerate person others admired. But tonight, as he lay in bed, his silent plea had been answered, thrusting him into a whirlwind of emotions.

Meeting you again after five long years, on the set of his latest film where you were cast as a cameo, had ignited a torrent of memories and regrets within him. The scene played out in his mind like a haunting film, your presence stirring feelings he had buried deep within himself.

As you both discussed the upcoming scene, the unspoken tension between you hung heavy in the air, overshadowing the easy camaraderie you once shared. Wonwoo couldn't help but notice the bruises hidden beneath your hair and sleeves, a stark contrast to the vibrant spirit he remembered from your past encounters.

When he finally mustered the courage to approach you in private, your first question pierced through his defenses like a dagger to the heart. "Why didn't you come to my wedding?" you asked, your voice calm but laden with disappointment.

Wonwoo was rendered speechless, his throat constricting with guilt and regret. He had never prepared himself for this moment, never anticipated facing you again under such circumstances.

"I read your letter, and I was so disappointed you didn't come," you continued, mentioning the drunken confession he had penned before your wedding day, a stupid letter.

"Mingyu too, he felt the same about our friendship," you added, invoking the name of their mutual friend.

Unable to meet your gaze, Wonwoo could only mutter a feeble apology, his fingers fidgeting nervously.

But when you rolled up your sleeves, revealing the bruises marring your skin, his heart shattered into a million pieces. He longed to reach out, to offer comfort and solace, but fear held him back, afraid that even the slightest touch would break you further.

"Did Mingyu know about this?" Wonwoo finally managed to ask, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded solemnly, confirming his worst fears. "But he couldn't do anything," you confessed, your words heavy with resignation.

Silence enveloped them both as Wonwoo struggled to process the weight of your words, the guilt and helplessness threatening to suffocate him.

"I was waiting for you," you whispered, the memory of your wedding day haunting your expression. "Since you promised."

Your laughter, tinged with bitterness, echoed in the cramped confines of the van, and Wonwoo felt his heart shatter all over again. "But you never came."

*

Wonwoo, dressed in his usual attire, rushed to the venue of your wedding ceremony, his mind spinning with confusion and urgency. Was this all just a dream, or had he truly been thrown back in time as he had desperately wished for earlier?

Mingyu's surprise was evident as he greeted Wonwoo, his eyes scanning his friend's unconventional choice of outfit – a black hoodie and baggy faded denim pants. Wonwoo's appearance, fresh only from a quick face wash, stood in stark contrast to the formal attire expected for such an occasion.

"Why are you dressed like this? Today is a special day!" Mingyu exclaimed, his concern evident in his voice as he pulled Wonwoo aside, shielding him from prying eyes.

Wonwoo blinked rapidly, unsure of how to explain his sudden appearance and disheveled state. If he were to tell Mingyu the truth – that he had traveled from the future to prevent you from suffering in an abusive marriage – he knew his friend would dismiss it as absurd.

"I need to meet Y/n," Wonwoo replied impatiently, his sense of urgency overriding any concern for social norms or propriety.

Mingyu furrowed his brows, his hand resting reassuringly on Wonwoo's shoulder. "We talked about this, man. You said you'd give up on her."

Wonwoo's heart clenched at the memory of his previous conversation with Mingyu, where he had resigned himself to letting you go. "Yeah, I know," he admitted, his voice tinged with regret.

"But I changed my mind. I can't let her go," Wonwoo confessed, his determination shining through despite the obstacles ahead.

Mingyu sighed, realizing the gravity of Wonwoo's intentions. "Isn't it too late? You know her husband is someone with power," he cautioned, his concern for both Wonwoo and you evident in his words.

"I promised her that I'd come today, help her cancel the wedding," Wonwoo explained earnestly, his gaze unwavering as he met Mingyu's widened eyes.

"No way! You know what would happen to both of you," Mingyu protested vehemently, his concern for their reputations and public image overriding any sense of recklessness.

Wonwoo took a deep breath, steeling himself before dropping a bombshell on Kim Mingyu. "She's pregnant with mine," he stated firmly, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.

Mingyu gasped in disbelief, his eyes widening in shock. "What?!" he exclaimed, unable to comprehend the gravity of Wonwoo's revelation.

Wonwoo nodded, his expression solemn as he tried to convey the truth of his words to Mingyu. "I'll explain everything later, but right now, I need to meet her," he insisted, his voice tinged with urgency and determination.

As the weight of Wonwoo's revelation sank in, Mingyu could only nod in reluctant understanding, realizing that his friend's resolve was unshakeable. Together, they stood on the precipice of a decision that could change the course of your lives forever.

*

"When he found out i was pregnant with other man, he practically almost murdering me everyday. He made sure that i was suffering and i ended up losing the baby. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you poured out the painful truth, revealing for the first time to Wonwoo that you had been carrying his child. The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, each syllable laden with the agony of your suffering.

Wonwoo held you tightly in his embrace, his heart breaking as he realized the extent of your torment. Guilt gnawed at him relentlessly, a relentless onslaught of remorse for his past actions. He closed his eyes, unable to bear the weight of his cowardice – the cowardice that had cost him your love and the life of his own child.

In that moment, he saw himself for what he truly was: a coward who had let fear dictate his every move. He had been too afraid to pursue a relationship with you, convinced that you were too perfect, too good for someone like him. And in his cowardice, he had stood by while you suffered unimaginable horrors at the hands of your husband.

As you spoke of the threats and abuse you endured, Wonwoo's heart shattered into a million pieces. The thought of you enduring such torment while he remained silent filled him with a profound sense of shame and regret.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I should have protected you. I should have been there for you."

But your confession only deepened his anguish, as you revealed the depths of your despair. "But I'm so tired," you admitted, your voice trembling with exhaustion. "Every day feels like hell, and I just want to die."

Wonwoo's heart clenched at your words, the pain in your voice echoing the turmoil in his soul. He vowed in that moment to do whatever it took to save you, to break free from the shackles of his own cowardice and finally stand by your side. For he knew now, more than ever, that he could not bear to lose you again.

A week later, news of your attempted suicide rocked Wonwoo to his core. As he stood in the hospital corridor, waiting anxiously for any update on your condition, the weight of his guilt threatened to crush him. The letter found at the scene revealed the depths of your suffering, documenting the abuse you endured at the hands of your husband.

Finally, after five long years, Wonwoo came face to face with Mingyu in the hospital aisle. Mingyu's eyes held a silent accusation, and Wonwoo couldn't bring himself to meet his friend's gaze. He bowed his head in shame, unable to deny the wrongs he had committed.

But to Wonwoo's surprise, Mingyu's arms enveloped him in a tight embrace, his own tears mingling with Wonwoo's. "Hyung... She'll be alright, right?" Mingyu choked out between sobs, his voice thick with worry and fear.

Wonwoo wished desperately that he could offer Mingyu reassurance, to tell him that you would indeed be alright. But the truth weighed heavily on his conscience, threatening to suffocate him. He longed to confess that everything that had transpired was just a dream, that you were safe and alive, and that you belonged to him. But his fear held him back, sealing his lips shut once again.

As the situation began to calm, Mingyu turned to Wonwoo, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and frustration. "Did she tell you?" he asked, his voice tinged with resignation.

Wonwoo nodded silently, his heart heavy with remorse.

Mingyu sighed, his gaze drifting towards the room where you were being tended to by medical staff. "I just hope that asshole didn't use his money to free himself," he growled in anger, his fists clenched in frustration at the thought of your abusive husband escaping justice.

"For these five years, she's suffered a lot," Mingyu continued, his voice tinged with sorrow. "I want to help her, but there's nothing I can do besides offering emotional support."

He paused, his expression pained as he revealed the truth behind your intentions to reconnect with Wonwoo. "She told me that she was going to meet you for a shoot. She actually just wanted to be friends again. There was no intention of telling you the whole situation. But I forced her."

Mingyu's words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the consequences of Wonwoo's actions and the pain he had caused. As he listened to his friend's words, Wonwoo felt a surge of remorse wash over him, knowing that he had hurt not only you but also those who cared for you deeply.

*

Mingyu accompanied Wonwoo as they approached your room, his hand gesturing for Wonwoo to enter and have a conversation with you. Wonwoo, visibly nervous, stepped into the room, scanning the space until his eyes fell upon you sitting on the couch. However, instead of your usual charm and charisma, he noticed a subdued air about you. Nevertheless, your face lit up when you saw him, and you rose from your seat.

As Wonwoo rushed towards you, pulling you into his embrace, you felt a mix of surprise and comfort flood through you. "Let's take you out of here," he whispered urgently, pulling back slightly to meet your gaze.

Your eyes widened, a hint of fear flickering across them. "But I can't," you protested, your voice trembling. "He's not just a random person, Wonwoo! He would sue us."

Wonwoo shook his head, determination etched into his features. "We confront him," he insisted, his voice firm yet reassuring. "And tell him the truth." His words carried a sense of resolve, offering you a glimmer of hope in the midst of uncertainty.

Tears welled up in your eyes, reflecting the turmoil within you. "But what about our careers?" you choked out, your voice thick with emotion. "We're going to be doomed after this... Think about yourself, Wonwoo!" You pleaded, trying to shake him out of his determination.

Wonwoo held your shoulders firmly, his gaze unwavering. "In another universe, I was selfish," he confessed, his voice tinged with regret. "But I ended up losing our friendship, losing Mingyu. I ended up losing you..." His words hung heavy in the air, carrying the weight of past mistakes and missed opportunities.

Confusion furrowed your brow as you searched his eyes for understanding. "What are you talking about?" you asked, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

Wonwoo's grip on your arm tightened, his resolve unyielding. "We don't have much time," he urged, his voice urgent. "Let's go to the groom."

Quickly, Wonwoo waited for you to change into comfortable clothes, both of you donning masks and hats to conceal your identities. With Mingyu's help, you found the groom, who was engrossed in conversation with guests. Mingyu motioned for both Wonwoo and you to retreat to a private area before confronting him.

The groom's surprise was evident as he laid eyes on you standing outside your room without your bridal gown. Before he could react, Mingyu and Wonwoo restrained him. Wonwoo realized the groom had no control over himself; he wasn't your husband yet.

"Let's stop the wedding," Wonwoo declared, his voice firm as he initiated the discussion. The furrowed expression on the groom's face spoke volumes about his response.

But before he could utter a word, Wonwoo dropped the bombshell. "She's pregnant with my child. We've been having an affair even before you entered the picture." The groom's composure shattered, his anger palpable.

"What does it mean, Y/n? We discussed this already."

As the groom moved towards you, Wonwoo and Mingyu intervened, shielding you from harm. Wonwoo signaled for Mingyu to escort you to his car while he dealt with the groom.

With an imposing presence, Wonwoo approached the groom, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the groom's agitation. "Y/n will pass away five years from now," Wonwoo revealed, his words laced with a solemn warning. "And you'll be behind bars for abusing and murdering her. I know your violent tendencies with women, so don't come near us unless you want the media to know."

Enraged, the groom grabbed Wonwoo's clothes, but Wonwoo effortlessly freed himself, straightening his attire. "I'm from the future," he declared, his voice steady. "We could stand here all day discussing your future, but let's prevent it by canceling this wedding."

*

Dear Yoon Y/n,

It's your friend, Jeon Wonwoo. I want to start by apologizing for my absence after that night. I couldn't bring myself to face you because everything changed between us. I no longer saw you as just a friend.

To be honest, it's been a long time since I've seen you that way. You've become more than a friend to me; you're a woman. I confided my feelings for you to Mingyu, and when I admitted I liked you, he punched me. Yet, he confessed he saw it coming.

For a fleeting moment after that night in your apartment, I was happy. I knew we were both intoxicated, but I didn't regret a thing. Yet, I couldn't shake the uncertainty of whether you felt the same way about me. Did you feel the same love as I did for you?

Today, I received your wedding invitation, and I couldn't muster the courage to confront you in person about how much I love you. Mingyu mentioned it was an arranged marriage, which gave me a sliver of hope that you might not love him. But at the end of the day, he'll be the one who owns you, right?

I want to be him. I want to be him so badly. If I were to attend your wedding and ask for your love, would you want to run away with me?

If your answer is yes, then I promise to be there.

With all my love,

Wonwoo

*

Wonwoo sat beside Mingyu, the weight of grief heavy in the air after attending your funeral. Mingyu handed him a book, your diary, a crucial piece of evidence detailing the abuse you suffered at the hands of your husband. Wonwoo's fingers traced over the cover, feeling the weight of your words within.

As he flipped through the pages, his heart clenched at the entry describing the morning of your wedding day, when you discovered your pregnancy. "She must have been waiting for me," Wonwoo thought, his throat tight with emotion.

Each word in your diary painted a vivid picture of your pain and suffering. Wonwoo read with tears streaming down his cheeks, feeling every pang in his chest as he absorbed the honesty and rawness of your emotions.

The diary was a testament to the strength you had to endure such torment, and Wonwoo couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by a mixture of sadness, anger, and admiration for you. It was a journey through your deepest struggles, and Wonwoo vowed silently to ensure that justice would be served for you, no matter the cost.

"Gyungmo raped me that night. He wanted to kill my baby." Wonwoo closed the book, barely able to continue it.

Anger, guilt, and regret crashed over Wonwoo like a relentless tsunami. Jung Gyungmo, the source of your suffering, must pay for his atrocities, Wonwoo thought, his fists clenched with fury.

"We hadn't spoken for months after her wedding," Wonwoo recounted to Mingyu, his voice heavy with remorse. "But she called me in the dead of night, desperate for help. Her husband was nowhere to be found when I arrived. She was barely holding on, her body weak, blood staining her legs."

Mingyu turned to face Wonwoo, his expression mirroring the sorrow etched in his friend's features. "She was five months pregnant, enduring unimaginable stress and abuse," Mingyu explained, his voice cracking with emotion. "And she lost your... your baby."

Wonwoo's heart shattered into a million pieces as the weight of your pain crashed down upon him. The realization that he could have done more, should have been there for you, gnawed at his soul like a relentless beast. The guilt and anguish threatened to consume him whole as he grappled with the cruel reality of your suffering.

Mingyu's voice trembled as he struggled to continue speaking, the weight of your absence crushing his heart freshly from your recent funeral. Tears streamed down his cheeks uncontrollably, his grief pouring out in waves. Despite his own pain, he reached out to Wonwoo, his arms wrapping around his best friend in a tight embrace, seeking solace in their shared sorrow.

"It's not your fault," Mingyu whispered, trying to offer some comfort amidst the overwhelming anguish.

But Wonwoo's voice quivered with guilt as he choked out his words, his tears mingling with Mingyu's. "This is my fault!"

Mingyu shook his head vigorously, refusing to let Wonwoo bear the burden alone. "No, hyung," he insisted, his own anguish evident in his voice.

"If only I had intervened at her wedding, if only I had stopped everything, she would still be with us! She wouldn't—" Wonwoo's words dissolved into sobs, his pain too raw to articulate.

Mingyu nodded in solemn agreement, his own grief consuming him. "Me too, hyung," he confessed, his voice thick with sorrow.

"If only I could turn back time, I would stop the wedding in a heartbeat."

If only...

The words hung heavy in the air, a bitter reminder of the irreversible tragedy that had befallen them all.

[dolcezzatoru]

need satoru tie me up 😔

baby. me TOO. wrote you a lil tiny thing hehe~ let me know if you want more, sweet girl ♡

gojo satoru x fem!reader. blindfold, wrist tying.

18+. minors dni.

satoru usually wouldnt think much of you trying his blindfold on. tonight in particular, you put it on after carefully removing it from his eyes after a long day of work.

“i don’t know how you see in this thing”

he opens his mouth to answer, but you cut him off, sensing him gear up for the long explanation again.

“well, i do know, i think. i know you technically don’t need to, or something,” you laugh, “it’s just jarring to be totally blind,”

he runs his fingers along the length of the lower edge of the black blindfold.

“is it now?” he asks, “i guess i’ve never noticed”

you shudder a bit from his lithe touch running across the fabric. you don’t need to see to sense where he is.

“satoru, that tickles,” you shudder breathily.

all the blood in his body shot to his groin. seeing you reach for his arm needily and grab his forearm, trying to push his hand away…

fuck, he thought. you didn’t even know what you were doing to him.

he grabbed your hand off his forearm and gently kissed your knuckles, which earned him a giggle from your sweet lips.

you reach your other hand up to peek out underneath the blindfold, only for satoru’s other hand to stop you.

“keep it on,” he demanded.

he pinned your hands together as he leaned in to ambush your lips with his own.

it’s needy, sudden, and has you gasping for more. satoru leaned into you more to push you down, holding both of your hands in one of his as your back hits the bed. and the two of you stayed like that for a while, satoru hovering over you with one hand encapsulating yours, the other holding himself above you.

“mm,” you push up to communicate you have something to say to satoru, but it gets ignored.

“ah,” eventually, satoru pulls away leaving your lips blushed and puffy. between pants, he manages to practically beg, “fuck, wait, can we try something?”

you were still blindfolded, hands still pinned at your sides by satoru’s big hands. you were still catching your breath.

“yeah, baby, sure, whatever you want,”

“okay,” satoru sings, kissing you one more time, “stay put,”

so you do. it’s been a bit since you first put his blindfold on, and it seemed like your body had given up on sight entirely. you felt yourself more honed in on listening to satoru rummaging through the closet, more focused on the way his tongue tasted in your mouth. or how soft his hands were holding you by your wrist. or how his cologne hit you before his lips did. everything was too much, but seemingly not enough.

satoru came back and picked you up to your feet.

“okay, okay,” he was rushing, “god, get undressed, please? can i?”

the urgency in his voice made you clench your legs together.

“ah, yeah, could you help me?”

satoru kneeled down to undo your pants, smushing his face into your tummy to pepper it with kisses while he fumbles with the button of your jeans.

“step towards me,” 

you leaned more onto him, your hands finding his hair as you aimlessly followed his directions. one by one, you felt him remove your pants and panties as you stepped out of them. he rose to his feet and pulled your shirt up off you with one motion.

the air was cold, but his hands were so warm, and he ran them across your entire body as he took off your bra. you stood there, hearing him rattle his belt trying to take it off as fabric shuffled in the midst of it all.

“fuck, you’re so beautiful”

and his lips were on yours again. fast, hungry, and needier than before. he pulls away and turns you around, grabbing your hands behind your back. he’s mumbling, as he usually does when he’s got a lot on his mind. telling you how pretty you are, how good he’s gonna make you feel, how you’re all his…god, the words can’t come out fast enough.

he’s tying your hands behind your back, and quickly too. the fabric is soft and silky–you figured he’s found some expensive tie to use as a makeshift rope of sorts.

“this is new,” you say, and you’re ignored.

“is that too tight?”

you pull a bit on them. not tight, but definitely secure.

“no, satoru, they feel fine,”

“perfect, angel,”

his face is close to your neck; his breathy praise gives you goosebumps across your back as he uses the pads of his fingers to run up and down your spine. 

“what, you nervous?” he teases, gently kissing the back of your neck and shoulders.

“i just want you to fuck me already,”

“oh, baby, why didn’t you say something earlier? since you asked so nicely, how can i say no to my favorite girl?”

he pulls on your tied wrists once more to check the hold, going straight towards pushing you forward until you hit the bed.

satoru’s voice is more firm as you climb onto the plush bed.

“why don’t you get on your knees, and be good for me, ‘kay?”

[dreamonseems]

Thank You

Erling Haaland X Female Reader

Summary: Birth of baby number two

Literally, because i have been killing myself with work, I got so sick that I had to be in the hospital. Life's been crazy so sorry iv been MIA, I'm didn't even have a good vacation lol because I was sick. I'll hopefully be uploading throughout the week.

The much-awaited time had arrived for the couple to welcome their second baby, just like they did with Ragnar. They had planned for a home birth, hoping for a smooth and serene experience. Y/N's labor began around 4 pm, and they eagerly called the midwives to assist with the birth. Everything seemed ordinary in the beginning, but as the night progressed, the atmosphere took an unexpected turn.

Y/N, her breath becoming heavier, voiced her unease, "I don't feel good, something doesn't feel right." Her words carried an air of concern that immediately caught Erling's attention. Worriedly, he turned to the midwives, seeking answers, "What's going on?"

One of the midwives responded, her face reflecting the seriousness of the situation, "Her blood pressure is getting really high. We will have to take her to the hospital. Call an ambulance now."

Erling's heart skipped a beat, feeling the sudden rush of anxiety and fear. "What's happening? Is she okay? Is the baby okay?" he asked, his mind racing with worries. Sensing his panic, the head midwife, Doris, approached him and took him aside. With a reassuring tone, she said, "We will do everything we can to keep her calm until we get to the hospital. The doctors there will know how to help. But I'll need your help to keep her from freaking out."

Summoning all his courage, Erling took a deep breath to steady his nerves. He returned to Y/N's side, determined to support her through this challenging moment. He began massaging her back gently, his voice a soothing balm as he spoke calming words, "The baby will be okay, Y/N. You and the baby will be fine. Don't worry about that. Let's just stay nice and calm. Trust me, everything will be alright."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she clung to his words for comfort. "Is the baby going to be okay?" she questioned, her emotions running high.

Erling looked into her eyes with unwavering love and assurance, "Yes, of course, baby. You and the baby will be just fine. I promise you that. We're in this together, and we'll get through it." He continued to provide her with the support and strength she needed, knowing that his presence and words meant the world to her in this moment of uncertainty.

The ambulance rushed to the scene, lights flashing and sirens blaring, as they urgently transported Y/N to the hospital. Inside, the atmosphere was filled with tension and a sense of urgency. Y/N clung to hope, her heart pounding with anxiety while Erling sat beside her, trying to provide whatever reassurance he could.

As they arrived at the hospital, medical personnel were standing ready, anticipating their arrival. The doctor and nurses sprang into action as they swiftly took Y/N to the emergency room. Erling, desperate to be by her side, attempted to follow them, but he was halted by a nurse.

"We will take care of her and figure out what's going on. We'll call you when we are ready to have you in the room," the nurse informed him with a gentle yet firm demeanor.

Erling's heart sank at the thought of being separated from Y/N during such a critical moment. He nodded in resignation, though every fiber of his being longed to be with her. As he stood there, watching them take his wife away, he felt a sense of helplessness like never before. It was an overwhelming feeling of being lost, unable to do anything to help the love of his life and their precious baby.

Unable to bear the weight of his emotions, Erling sank to the floor, leaning against the hospital wall. He folded his hands together, seeking solace in prayer like never before. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and his voice trembled as he cried out to God with all his heart, "Please, God, please don't let anything happen to them. I beg you to protect them. Bring them both through this safe and sound."

Every word was filled with raw emotion, and Erling's heartache was evident in his fervent plea. In that vulnerable moment, he laid bare his deepest fears and hopes, finding a glimmer of strength in the act of prayer. The waiting seemed like an eternity, and Erling held on to the hope that his prayers would be heard and answered.

All around him, the hospital bustled with activity, but Erling remained on his knees, his thoughts consumed by his beloved wife and the life they created together. The uncertainty weighed heavily on his shoulders, but he held on to the belief that his love and faith could make a difference. Through the pain and the fear, Erling clung to the hope that soon, he would be reunited with Y/N and their unborn child, safe and sound.

"Mr. Haaland, you can come in now. She's pushing, and she's a strong one, your wife," the nurse called out to Erling with a hint of admiration in her voice. Erling's heart raced, and he swiftly rushed into the delivery room. He knew this was the critical moment he had been waiting for, and he couldn't bear to miss it.

Just in time, Erling stood by Y/N's side, gripping her hand tightly as she bravely pushed to bring their precious bundle of joy into the world. Y/N's face was flushed red, her tears mixing with sweat as she vocalized the intensity of her efforts. With every ounce of her strength, she pushed, determined to bring their baby safely into their arms.

With bated breath, Erling watched as their little one made their way into the world. But as the baby emerged, a sense of fear crept in. There were no cries, and the baby's complexion looked bluish. Time seemed to slow down as panic threatened to consume Erling's heart. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, and his mind raced with worry.

Y/N, still dazed and exhausted from the labor, was unaware of what was unfolding. She went in and out of consciousness, her eyes hazy as she caught glimpses of Erling's shocked face. Fearful for her baby's well-being, she repeated the question, "What's happening? What's happening?" But there were no answers forthcoming, and Erling found it difficult to tear his gaze away from the baby to comfort her.

With every second feeling like an eternity, Erling's heart sank as he focused on the baby's condition. The silence in the room was unbearable, and he prayed with all his might for a miracle. Just when it felt like time stood still, their baby finally let out a strong cry, piercing the air with life. Relief washed over Erling, and he couldn't hold back his emotions.

"Oh, thank you, thank you," Erling cried out, his voice trembling with gratitude. The sound of their baby's cries was music to his ears, a symphony of hope and joy amidst the fear and uncertainty. In that moment, he knew that they had overcome a major hurdle, and the bond between him, Y/N, and their newborn grew stronger than ever.

He turned to Y/N, her tired but elated expression mirroring his own feelings. The world seemed to fade away around them as they heard their babys cries, cherishing the miracle of life that they had brought into this world together.

As the anticipation reached its peak, the doctor's voice filled the room, ringing with a mix of excitement and tenderness, "It's a boy!" The words danced in the air, and Erling's heart swelled with pride and love. As the doctor gently placed their newborn son on Y/N's chest, a rush of emotions overwhelmed them both.

Y/N's eyes glistened with tears of joy as she looked down at her precious baby boy. A joyful chuckle escaped her lips, intermingled with tears, as she marveled at the miracle cradled against her. Her heart felt like it would burst from the overwhelming love she felt for the little bundle in her arms.

Erling's eyes welled up as he beheld the scene before him. His beautiful family, now complete with the arrival of little Elias, filled his soul with an indescribable sense of happiness. His hand trembled with emotion as he gently caressed his son's tiny, delicate head.

"His name is Elias," Erling declared, his voice quivering with affection and certainty. The name carried a sense of meaning and significance, carefully chosen to be a perfect fit for their new addition.

"Elias... I like it," Y/N said, her voice tender, yet teary-eyed. It was as if the name resonated deeply with her heart, sealing their bond as a family. The joyous tears cascading down her cheeks mirrored the overwhelming happiness in Erling's heart.

In that sacred moment, time seemed to stand still as they basked in the pure bliss of becoming parents once again. The room was filled with an aura of love, a cocoon of warmth and happiness that enveloped the new family. Elias, swaddled in love, had already woven himself into the hearts of his parents.

As they gazed at their son, they knew that this journey of parenthood would be filled with challenges and wonders, tears and laughter, but they were ready for every single moment. Little Elias had made them a family, and they vowed to cherish and protect him with all the love they could muster.

With Elias in their arms, their hearts were overflowing with love and gratitude. Y/N and Erling looked at each other, their eyes shining with affection, and shared a smile that spoke volumes. They knew that this was just the beginning of a lifetime of love, joy, and precious memories, and they couldn't wait to embark on this beautiful journey together as a family of four.

[karuvapatta]

Next part of the Untitled Jonelias Magic AU. Thank you @ceaseless-bitcher for your feedback, worldbuilding ideas, and line suggestions!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

***

“Do you have an appointment?” the secretary – Rose? Rosie? – asked politely, opening her calendar.

“I do not,” Jon said.

“I see,” she said. “Well, forgive me, Mr Sims, but Master Bouchard is currently in a meeting. If you have a message for him, I would be happy to pass it along.”

“Look,” Jon began, then shut his mouth immediately thereafter. The secretary – Rosie; he was pretty sure her name was Rosie – regarded him with a bland, polite smile, her hands folded neatly on the desk. Behind her were the doors to Master Bouchard’s office, presently out of Jon’s reach.

“Is there anything I can do for you, then?” she asked.

He should have written a letter. He should have refrained from coming here in the first place.

“Is it possible to arrange a meeting?” he asked. “I—I really need to speak with Master Bouchard.”

He didn’t want to accost the man after one of his lectures, or seek entry to the research floor without invitation. That seemed to be a step too far. But maybe he would have no other choice, if Rosie continued being this difficult.

“I will have to confirm it with him. I will let you know once I have any details,” Rosie said.

“Thank you,” Jon said curtly. He wrote down his contact information, and could not help one last heated glare in the direction of Bouchard’s locked office door.

It was foolish. It wasn’t important. The sense of urgency gnawing at his stomach was entirely unwarranted. He needed to put that feeling to rest and move on. If Bouchard refused to see him, he would do just that. He would stop showing up to his lectures, stop reading his papers, stop hovering near the research department…

Half-heartedly, he wished that this would be the end of it. And yet the reply arrived two days later, with the meeting set for next week. Jon didn’t know how to feel about that. He spent altogether too much time trying to come up with something intelligent to say, some compelling argument as to why he wanted to see Bouchard in the first place. Yet when the time came, his mind was blank and his throat was dry.

“Mr Sims,” Bouchard greeted him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Jon swallowed. The office was just as he had remembered it, with Bouchard silhouetted against the large window behind him. Jon felt uncomfortably exposed where he stood; he could not see the man’s face clearly, with the afternoon light nearly blinding him.

“Take a seat, please,” Bouchard said, pointing to the familiar chair in front of his desk.

Jon moved slowly. He placed his hand on the back of the chair, fingers twitching against dark wood and embroidered fabric. Bouchard’s pale eyes were on him; he could feel them as acutely as he felt the sunlight on his skin. He had questions, so many questions echoing in his head, and yet he struggled to voice any of them.

Bouchard was a patient man. He sat back, fingers steepled together, and said nothing at all as Jon hovered awkwardly in front of him, at war with his own thoughts.

“Have you chosen an apprentice yet, Master?” Jon asked.

He hadn’t meant for these to be the first words out of his mouth, but now he couldn’t take them back.

“Oh my,” Bouchard chuckled. “Gossip really spreads like wildfire, doesn’t it?”

This wasn’t an answer. Jon frowned at him.

“Why do you want to know?” Bouchard asked.

Still the same frustrating non-answer. Jon’s frown deepened; his fingers clenched tight around the back of the chair. The bracelet shifted against his skin, responding to the movement, or perhaps the sudden flash of anger.

“Does it matter?” he asked. “You will not tell me anyway.”

Bouchard’s mouth twitched into a smile. This—he found it amusing. Jon was a source of entertainment for him, for whatever reason. The reasonable thing to do would be to turn back and leave; Jon, of course, stayed right where he stood.

“What is it that you want from me?” Jon asked.

“Why do you assume I want anything from you?” Bouchard asked calmly.

“You—” Jon bit his lip. This was wrong, this was all wrong. He was making an ass of himself. But—well. “Why did you reject my application?” he asked. This was a reasonable question, was it not? “Is it because of the—” he pressed his fingers to his wrist and the bracelet bound tight around it, feeling it thrum gently, matching the rhythm of his pulse. “I didn’t think it mattered,” he added quietly.

“It does matter,” Bouchard said. “To you, most of all. Why pretend otherwise?”

It was driving him insane, the way Bouchard insisted on answering Jon’s questions with even more questions. What would it take to get a normal reply out of the man? Why was he toying with Jon?

“I have been practicing,” Jon said. “You know I have. I—I want to learn.” He dropped his gaze, throat seizing with embarrassment. But he needed to say the words out loud, he needed to have them out in the open. “Master, I know I’m capable of this with your guidance. I want to be your apprentice. Please.”

He braced himself for whatever might come next. Maybe he ought to apologize for his outlandish request, offer an explanation, play it off as a joke… except he couldn’t bring himself to lie right now. Bouchard would probably know if he did. So he glanced up, chancing a look at Bouchard’s face, to better judge his reaction.

Their eyes met; Bouchard smiled.

“To answer your earlier question, Mr Sims,” he began. “Yes, I already made my choice. But I had to wait for you to make yours.”

Oh.

Jon still didn’t know why. But now he had the chance to find out.

[expirydateofficial]

Expiry Date (Chikn Nuggit Infection AU Fanfic POV: Slushi)

Read Chapter 1 here

Read Chapter 3 (Part 1/2) here

Chapter 3 - Promise - Part 2/2

[Image ID: (Note : The original dialogue was coloured so y'know who was speaking, but that's kinda impossible here so I've added a few more sentences here and there, that way, you'll get to know who's talking!)

Shit shit shit shit shit

I knew it, I fucking knew it,

They were looking for me, what if because of that they-

The latest call was from Chee,

27 minutes ago.

*ring*

pls be ok pls be ok pls answer pls please

*ring*

Chee please tell me that you're ok please

*ring*

I'm so sorry for not being there for you, I couldn't find you, there were too many people and...

*ring*

I'm so sorry. Chee.

...

"The number that you have-"

...

"Slushi, that- that doesn't mean anything y'know. Like her phone could have lost battery like yours. She will be fine, she's a really tough cat and she has Cofi by her side."

Milkshek words failed to reassure me.

I think she could tell.

I felt my tears seeping out again.

Milkshek hugged me tight.

"I'm so scared.. that.. that.." I stuttered through my tears.

"It's ok. I understand, Slushi." Milkshek replied softly.

"I hear something." Old Pea interrupted.

A gentle scraping outside. I hadn't really noticed it until Old Pea pointed it out.

I turned to look outside.

It was climbing.

IT WAS CLIMBING.

I shrieked, "EVERYONE! WE NEED TO GO NOW!"

I ripped the charger off, still attached to my phone like an umbilical cord.

Milkshek opened the door, a set of stairs revealed themselves.

I continued. "Down there! Exit through the front door!"

Suddenly, I felt my pocket vibrate.

It was my phone!

My excitement piqued.

"Fwench Fwy!" I was so relieved.

"SLUSHI BEHIND YOU!"

Milkshek's yell echoed between the empty corners.

I turned and shut the door. I saw a glimpse of something by the window. The stench was atrocious.

The phone continued to vibrate.

We flew down the stairs into the pit of darkness below.

Fwench Fwy's voice flooded in. "Slushi! Are you there? Don't worry, Sody is in good hands, he's completely safe with me and Iscream. Everything will be ok-"

"SODY?" I felt so light, my tension released.

"Where are you now?" I asked frantically.

"Sody?" Milkshek gasped. "Is he alright?"

"I'm sorry." Fwench Fwy mumbled, their guilt of rambling transfered through the screen. "Are you guys safe?"

"It's ok. We're safe for now." I reassured. "Just tell me where you guys are."

"The light switch doesn't work here." Old Pea commented.

We turned on our flashlights.

"I'm sorry. We're at your house." Fwench Fwy answered.

A creaking noise above. It is advancing downstairs.

Milkshek turned to me concerned. "Slushi, the front door is blocked."

I turned to look at it, a couch and a bookshelf, sandwiched against the door.

"You.. y-you.. ok over there?" French Fwy could sense the urgency.

"Who are you talking to?" Sody. It was him.

"SODY POP!" I blurted in relief.

"Is that Slushi?" Sody asked.

"Uhh.. Of course, Sody!" The sudden change in Fwench Fwy's tone to bubbly and cheerful as if nothing was wrong jarred me.

"Can I talk to her?" he asked.

"Oh.. um.. of course!" they stammered through their reply.

I muted the call again. Books trickled down the shelves as we pulled at them. I felt the pain of each story, each world, falling to the ground.

"Hello, when are you coming back?" Sody asked.

I don't think he knows.

Should I continue the lie?

Is it the right thing to do?

...

"Oh, I will be a little late, y'know.." I trailed off, forcing myself to sound enthusiastic, squeezing my phone between my head and neck.

"Ok! I made a new OC and I want to show you so be back soon ok?" Sody sounded so excited.

"Ok, I promise Sody. I bet it looks amaaaaaazinggg, can't wait to hear its crazy backstory and lore!" I replied, genuinely interested.

"Ye." Sody replied.

I muted the call once again. The bookshelf toppled. Echoes of its fall broke the atmopshere.

Fwench Fwy's voice chipped in. "Sody, aren't ya supposed to be sleeping. Staying up so late will make you reaaalllyy tired t'morrow and we can't have that, can we?"

A shape descended at the stairs. The stench was intoxicating.

"Fine. You're so boring!" Sody grumbled.

I heard a door close on the other side of the call.

Compared to the bookshelf, the couch was light work, and it was quickly peeled off the door.

"So, where uhh.. are you right now?" Fwench Fwy asked.

"I'm in a.. house..." I started.

It hit me.

"Someone was hiding in here." I realised. Why else would there be so much effort to barricade the door. "They might still be here."

"Wh- WOAH WAIT!" Fwench Fwy answered, growing in concern. "...Maybe.. they aren't in there anymo-"

My phone went back to its coma.

"Dammit." I swallowed any swears.

"Slushi, don't tell me.." Milkshek knew what I was going to do.

"I'm not going to leave them behind." I answered.

I let go of her hand and went back in.

End ID]

[merlot-and-chardonnay]

A Lark Among the Wolves and Dragons: Chapter 40

Chapter 39.5

Masterlist

------------King's Landing: several months earlier-------------

"Where is Aemond?" Alicent frantically questions guards and servants. She had not seen her second born son in the Holdfast since this morning and now she was becoming concerned as no one else has seen him either.

She had initially contemplated if he had stolen away to ride Vhagar like he usually does, but he would've informed her beforehand so she wouldn't worry of any sudden disappearances. Aemond was not Aegon, he was not one to slip away into the city to seek temporary pleasure in the brothels, nor was he one to sneak into the cellars to drown in his cups.  This was concerning.

Alicent then went to Aegon and Helaena's apartments, hoping perhaps Aemond decided to visit his sister and her children. When she walked in, she did not find Aemond, but she did see, much to her surprise, Aegon sitting in a chair rocking his youngest son Maelor who had just fallen asleep in his arms.

Aegon looked up in shock by the way his mother had rushed into the apartments with a sense of urgency. "Mother?"

"...Aegon," Alicent greets briefly before looking around the apartments, "where...where is Helaena?" Aegon frowned a bit, wondering what his mother was thinking; she clearly wasn't showing much concern for him, "she went for a walk in the gardens," he answers, "with the twins." "And...Aemond? Is he with them?" Alicent asks, "I haven't seen him since this morning."

Aegon internally sighed; of course his mother would be more concerned with his brother, the Golden Child. "...no, not that I'm aware of," he answers in an almost whisper, wondering what was going on. He knew Aemond enough to know this was not in character for his younger brother; he was the perfect son after all, Aemond was the one who did everything right, paid attention to his lessons in history and philosophy, who trained every day with the sword and kept up with the political and economic matters among the nobles and Royal Family. Even Aegon's claim to Sunfyre was eclipsed by Aemond the moment his brother claimed Vhagar six years ago. 

Had Aemond been born first, he would've been far more suited to be king then Aegon could ever hope for. Meanwhile, Aegon could never do anything right in either of his parents' eyes. No matter how much he tried, there would always be another sibling for him to be compared to, be it his oldest sister whom his father favored over his other children, or his younger brother whom his mother dotted on every second of every day. Hence, the reason why Aegon barely tried anymore these days with anything. There was no reason to if it was never going to be good enough for his mother, father, or grandsire, and if it was never going to be enough to earn either their love and affection. 

Sure, he had a wife and children, but even that didn't seem to fill the void that was left in his heart. Helaena, he wasn't entirely sure was capable of loving him just as his brothers weren't, and his children...well Jaehaera and Jaehaerys preferred their mother and even the nursemaids over their father, as the two would barely speak a word to Aegon when he made the effort to visit them in the nursery. Jaehaera was a little more receptive compared to Jaehaerys, but there were times when Aegon felt he was losing his daughter's affection. Maelor could still be comforted by Aegon's warmth when he would hold the boy in his arms, but who knows how long that would last. When Maelor takes his first steps? Says his first word? However long it would take, Aegon could only prepare for the day his youngest would start to distance himself from his father in favor of his mother or anyone else that wasn't Aegon. While contemplating his miserable life, Aegon was shaken from the way his mother frantically searched the rooms, looking for her favorite son, ignoring her eldest. Aegon sighed a bit, recalling the times his mother had nagged him for not spending enough time with his family and rather drown in his cups and slip away into the city to do the Seven knows what. Yet, seeing him holding and rocking Maelor clearly wasn't enough for even so much as a word of recognition.

On the other hand, this was still an interesting development; even he couldn't help but wonder where his perfect brother had gone off. It certainly couldn't be the Street of Silk, Aegon knew full well Aemond had no interest in such places, despite his best efforts to 'educate' Aemond on what pleasures could be found there. It couldn't be the docks either, Aemond hadn't set foot in that place since....

Aemma, is what Aegon starts to think. He did have to wonder what became of his cousin, ever since hearing from word of mouth that the young princess disappeared six years ago after the events on Driftmark. Part of Aegon believed Aemma may have slipped away back to the Continent, he remembered how obsessed she was with those lands, how that same obsession was compounded by the loss of her mother. If that were case, Aegon considered Aemma to be fortunate; she was free from the constraining duties that came with being part of this family, and she was certainly free from the burden of being betrothed to him.

Aegon now began to wonder if Aemond had finally left to go find Aemma. Those two had been close as children, and he knew Aemond was always infatuated with her. Would Aemond, however, been bold and rogue enough to drop everything and leave what he knew behind to fly off to parts unknown just to rescue someone he had grown to disdain all those years ago?

------------Flotsam tavern: Present Day---------

After making brief eye contact with the White Wolf, Jaskier slipped into the tavern to join Roche, Ves, and the Westerosi trio. He looked around, and saw Zoltan wondering outside the tavern, "Zoltan," Jaskier calls out in an almost whisper, "hey do me favor, can you keep Geralt occupied, or at least make sure he doesn't set foot in the tavern." "Whatever for?" Zoltan asks, feeling confused by this request. "I'll explain later, just please do me this favor." "Alright, whatever you say," Zoltan shrugs and does as he was bid.

Jaskier walks into the tavern and takes a seat next to Roche, not bothering to touch the drink that was brought before him as he needed to be sober enough to keep a sharp eye on the newcomers. Even though Aemond had assured the Bard that he would take Aemma away against her will, he was still not confident.

"So, Commander Roche," Criston speaks, "what is the plan?" "We need to get to find a way to get us and the Blue Stripes out of Flotsam and into the forest to face the Scoia'tel before Laredo tries to interfere," Roche proposes, drawing lines on a piece of paper, "this is Flotsam," he explains, "this is the forest. Between the town and the forest is a barricade Commandant Loredo has just built around the town ever since word spread of the death of King Foltest. As of now, no one goes in or out with the Commandant's knowing. We need to develop a ploy to keep his attention off of us while we sneak past the barricade." 

"And how do you propose we do that?" Ivan question. "The quickest way?" Ves speaks up, "live bait."  The trio was a little confused by that plan. "I don't think the rest of us follow," Criston admits.

"We need someone to go and distract the main guards while the rest of us sneak out of Flotsam," Roche elaborates, "preferably someone who is good at garnering enough attention as well as being able to improvise on the spot." 

The table went silent as Roche and Ves turn their gaze towards Jaskier, with Ivan, Criston, and Aemond following suit. 

"...I'm sorry, where you suggesting that...I go be the bait? You're not serious are you?" "We need a diversion, and you already got into some trouble with the Commandant, as evident that you and your dwarf friend were about to get the hanging the moment my party arrived. If anyone could get under Loredo's skin and direct his attention away from the Blue Stripes, it's you." 

"Pfft, alright," Jaskier scoffs, "well, what exactly do you want me to do? Don a woman's frock, sneak into the barracks, and sing all 12 verses of the Maids of Vicovaro?...Because I will."

"Maybe nothing that extreme," Roche says, "just keep their attention off us long enough so we can climb over the barricade without being spotted.

"Why were about to get hanged?" Aemond asks. "Ah, a good question," Jaskier says, "well let's just say the Commandant had some....disagreements over how I choose to conduct myself in the dead of night. Never mind that man has been known to do the same thing behind closed doors. He didn't really care, we all know Loredo is hardly a pious man, this was all more about a show of force, to remind people who is 'the Law of the Land' in these parts. Nevertheless, I'll do my part and keep him and his lackeys distracted enough that we could smuggle a rock troll into Flotsam."

"Right, then it's settled," Roche agrees, "We leave at dusk."

"And what are we to do in the meantime?" Aemond questions. Right on cue, men from the Blue Stripes walked in and ordered drinks, laughing and conversing with one another. "I say...we have a drink," Roche suggests, standing up to join his men.

"Excuse me, I have some business to take care of outside," Jaskier says, standing up to leaving the tavern.

--------------------

Sure enough, the moment Jaskier walked out, he saw Zoltan conversing with Geralt. Jaskier ran over to his friends. "Zoltan, Geralt, hello, good to see you again," the Bard greets nonchalantly. "You have some explaining to do, Bard," Zoltan crosses his arms.

"Yes, I do," Jaskier agrees, "but not here, we better talk elsewhere."

Jaskier then gestures for the two to follow him somewhere a little more secluded before he explains the new development in the form of three Westerosi men who had come all this way to find Aemma. "So Aemma's family has gotten involved then," Zoltan says, "the side with the dragons that is. Melete help us." "Well no, just the one, her cousin," Jaskier corrects, "I haven't even seen any dragons yet. But that's not quite the main concern here. He and the knights he brought with him, I fear will want to take Aemma away...whether she wants that or not." "Has the lad given any reason why that might be the case?" Zoltan asks. "Well, no not yet," Jaskier admits, "frankly he strikes me as someone with a stick up his arse...which is saying a lot considering his age. Really, he's just so...serious. But in some ways, he does remind me of his uncle, I have this gut instinct he'd do anything to get what he wants in the long run."

Geralt, while listening to the conversation, feels himself having a flashback, showing remnants of his past that he could remember. He began to remember being in Westeros, in King's Landing, with the Lady of Larks, their daring escape from the Red Keep with Jaskier and baby Aemma, and a certain man with blonde hair getting in the way. The memory then changed to the part where Yennefer came in through a portal and rescued the three of them, only to have (y/n)'s daughter yanked from her arms at the very last moment.

"Aemma..." Geralt says in an almost whisper. "Geralt?" "Princess Aemma, she was (y/n)'s daughter," Geralt says, "I...I think I remember her when she was a baby. (y/n) came to Kaer Morhen when she was pregnant with Aemma." "Do...do you remember anything else? Any specifics?" Jaskier presses. "No," Geralt shakes his head, "nothing else. But I think I understand better why Aemma was looking for her mother's family. Why she wanted to learn more of her mother...because they were separated when she was still a child." "So...you remember THAT part," Jaskier says in a somber tone, remembering that sad day.

"That was the day, wasn't it?" Zoltan speaks up, "the day when Aemma was ripped from her mother's arms at the hands of her father. Yes, I remember she spoke of that time when she finally joined our little party on the way to Nilfgaard, the sadness in her eyes. Poor thing was determined to be reunited with her again, much similarly to how you were determined to be reunited with Ciri, Geralt." "Yes...Ciri," Geralt nods, having some vague memories of the girl in question, those particular memories being more detailed then what he was able to remember of anyone else that was part of his life. 

"Cedric the elf had already confirmed that Aemma was taken by the Scoia'tel," Geralt points out, "more evidence that she is somewhere in this forest."

"What's the plan then?" Zoltan questions. "We need to get Aemma away from the Scoia'tel before this Prince Aemond and his men do," Jaskier says, "Geralt, you know how to navigate the monster ridden forest if anyone can do it, it's you." "There's still the matter of the Kayran to deal with," Geralt points out. Jaskier thinks on this predicament, "Well, we won't enact the plan until dusk. Can you rid the village of that best before then?" "I think so,"Geralt nods, "I already have the materials needed to prepare. I just to need to meet up with Sile and we'll be ready to slay the monster."

------------time skip to dusk-----------

It took the better part of the day, but with the help of the mage Sile, Geralt was able to defeat the Kayran and thus save Flotsam's trade and commerce. There was even spare time to follow Triss to the prison barge in hopes of questioning an imprisoned Scoia'tel, who was Iorveth's second in command, to extract information regarding these elves.

Upon learning that the witcher Letho had doubled crossed the Scoia'tel, there was also the matter of Tris proposing a solution to restore Geralt's memory with the roses of remembrance. As much as the White Wolf so badly wanted to remember again, he couldn't afford a detour at the moment; too much time had been waster enough as is, and who knows what the Scoia'tel were doing to Aemma at this moment.  "The roses will have to wait," Geralt informs Triss, "We have to save Aemma first." "I understand," Tris nods, "Alright, I'll get a head start and try and locate the Scoia'tel encampment, try and make sure they haven't harm Aemma in any serious way yet.

With that out of the way, the witcher returned to the town, waiting for Jaskier's signal.

Meanwhile, the Bard in question, with the help of Zoltan, kept the Westorosi lot and the Blue Stripes occupied by buying rounds of drinks and conversing.

Or at least he tried. Roche seemed to have found a kindred spirit with Criston and the two bonded over certain things in their lives, one of them being have to scrimp and scrap to earn the things they had in this word while those same things had been given freely to others. Criston still had some misgivings about Roche, but he seemed like a decent man who worked hard for what he had, and it was something the man could appreciate.

Ivan struck up a conversation with Zoltan, whom seemed to speculate what the half-elf was hiding behind his headband, but he wouldn't say anything, knowing the stigma half-elves faced in this world and would respect Ivan's desire to keep himself hidden.

Aemond barely spoke a word during this time, preferring more to observe; actually if the prince had his way, he would want to spar some with Criston and Ivan in preparation for what was to come. Aemond saw the way the Blue Stripes were behaving during this time, and he wasn't all that impressed by what he saw; their vulgar words which became more frequent as the drinks kept coming, and the way they would try and seduce the barmaids who came with the drinks. When a couple women from the local brothel stopped by, the men would try and proposition them. The Blue Stripes were a complete contrast to their Commander, Aemond thought; he recalled his grandsire once telling him you could judge the quality of a man's character by the company he keeps. Roche seemed to be an honorable man with no taste for depravity, but his men seemed to not follow their commander's example. Only time Roche would step in is when they would get a little rough with the servers, but that was it. It was a little confusing for the prince. So far, none of the men, Aemond noticed, tried to proposition Ves, despite her goods being out for all to see.

"You weren't exaggerating about that prince," Zoltan says to Jaskier, nodding towards Aemond, "he really does have a stick up his arse. So serious. Repressed I would dare say. A little concerning for a lad his age." "Makes me wonder if Aemma had turned out like that," Jaskier admits his concern, "given that they were both brought up by the same family."

Once dusk had settled, Jaskier slipped away after informing Roche that he was going to get ready for the distraction.

He and Zoltan head around back of the tavern to find Geralt standing by, "we're about to ready position," Jaskier informs, "you ready, Geralt?" Geralt nods, frowning a bit when he sees Jaskier pull out a wig with long hair, "uh, what are you doing?" "I'm the distraction," Jaskier sasses lightly as he dons the wig, "Zoltan, my good man, do you have what I requested?" "Surprisingly yes," Zoltan nods, handing the dress to Jaskier, "had to extend the skirts a bit, but you and the she-dwarf I was supposed to wed are roughly the same size. I have to say, I didn't think you were serious about this." "I never joke about these things," Jaskier feigns offense, "and besides, reason Loredo sentenced us to the hanging in the first place was a sense of 'pious justice' from the 'good' Commandant. If we're lucky, this might actually give him a stroke."

"I get the feeling this isn't the first time you've done something like this," Geralt states as Jaskier gets the dress on, "I do recall regaling you of my time at Oxenfurt," Jaskier says, "the little troupe I was part of for a time, the one that involved a lot of drag performance. Yeah, this is not my first time, and it certainly won't be the last. I even had a stage name for this particular persona, whom I called...," he gets the straps of the dress over his shoulder and speaks in a falsetto voice, "Juliana, troubaritz extraordinaire. How do I look?"  "The prettiest troubaritz I've ever seen," Zoltan complements, also eyeing the stubble, "if you had a full beard, you would be the Dwarven Bell of the Ball."

"Excellent," Jaskier, er I mean, Juliana says with a smile, "alright, time for me to head to the barracks to stir a moral panic. Wish me luck."

-----------------Meanwhile----------------

"Leaving so soon, princess?" Letho asks as he stands calmly yet menacingly up to address the escaped princess. 

Aemma was about to reach for her sword, but remembered she had left behind in the Scoia'tel camp. She didn't have her mother's silver dagger. The only thing she did have was the knife she swiped from that elf, the same one she used to cut her bonds back the camp which allowed her to escape. 

But now it looked like she wouldn't get far. 

"We don't have to fight," Aemma tells him, "you can just look the other way and I can go home." "I'm afraid I can't do that," Letho tells her, "business is not yet finished." Aemma quickly takes this moment to scan her surroundings. She also regarded the witcher before her; she saw his silver medallion, signaling that he came from the witcher School of the Viper. She remembered what Vesemir told her about that school, how it was known for producing would-be assassins, and Letho certainly lived up to that reputation. But, as a witcher, maybe he could be persuaded by other means to let her pass by without conflict.

"You're working for the Scoia'tel, yeah?" Aemma reasons, "they must be paying you pretty penny, I'm guessing. To kill the king and to bring me to them. I'm a princess of House Targaryen, if you let me go, I can persuade my uncle the king to pay you for allowing me to return to my family unharmed." "You honestly believe this has anything to do with coin?" Letho scoffs, "No...no. As I've said before. This, dear princess, is personal." "...I don't understand." "The Scoia'tel are not the only ones who hold a grudge against your father, the Rogue Prince," Letho explains, pulling out a sword, "they're not the only ones seeking justice."

Eyes wide, realizing what this meant, Aemma stood her ground. Armed with only a knife, and also disadvantage physically, the princess would need to rely on her wits to get her out of this situation. "Before you take me back to the camp, I do have a request," Aemma says, "...can I have a cup of water?"

While the bulky witcher frowned at this odd request, Aemma took this opportunity to take this mud and fling it at Letho's eyes. She then turned and ran off. Letho growls and rubs the mud off his eyes, "you can't run from me, forever, princess! I will find you!" 

Aemma ran through the forest as fast as she good, seeing a stream and following it upwards in hopes that it would lead her to a town or village or maybe even a hut. She runs for a time and and then jumps into the stream, knowing about witchers' special senses and hoped doing this would keep her scent hidden.

She hides under a giant tree root that hid her from view. She grabbed some mud, making quick work of hiding her blonde hair. While doing this, she heard a rustle in the bushes, making her go still. Thinking it might be Letho having tracked her down, Aemma pulled out her knife, preparing to get the jump first. If she could stab the man in just the right spot, it would give her the chance to finally escape.

She takes a breath, ready to time her attack. She jumped up from her hiding spot and tackled the would-be aggressor to the ground. The person in question pushed her off. Aemma pointed her knife at this person; it wasn't Letho, but with the cloak concealing their face, he may as well be a bandit. Before the would-be bandit could draw his sword, Aemma charges him again, and the two wrestle each other, rolling the ground.

Aemma tries to stab the person, but he grabs her wrist and tries to get the knife away from her. He was almost successful, but Aemma pulled away. The cloaked individual turned her around, getting her on her back and tried to grab her knife again. Aemma managed to move her leg and knee the guy in the groin, then pulling his cloak back before getting him on his back, knife to his neck, and panting heavily from the struggle.

Eyes wide, the man narrowed his gaze onto the princess, as if he were studying her face,

"...Aemma?" 

"Who...how did...?"

Aemma took a proper look finally noticing this person's long blonde hair much like hers and the eye patch covering over one eye, but failed to conceal the scar...the same scar that...

"...Aemond...is that you?"

Chapter 41

[katenewmanwrites]

Racing Hearts - Chapter two

Warnings: Blood, Injury, Mild violence, Intense scenes

The van surged ahead, picking up speed as it careened through narrow alleyways. I stumbled into Finn's side, my balance compromised by the chaotic rush. His arm instinctively wrapped around my waist, steadying me as we staggered toward the last available seat.

With a sudden jolt, we collided, and I found myself seated on his lap, his face twisting in pain as he grimaced. It was then that I noticed the blood, a crimson stream trickling down his arm. My hands trembled as I reached out, applying pressure to the wound in a desperate attempt to stem the flow.

"I've had worse," Finn laughed, though his voice was strained through gritted teeth. Despite the chaos around us, his tone carried a hint of reassurance. Adrenaline surged through my veins, my heart pounding in my ears as the van lurched forward, the engine roaring with each swerve.

Isabell sat beside us, gripping the seat with white-knuckled intensity, her breaths shallow and rapid. The young man in the driver's seat glanced back at us, a smirk playing on his lips. "Who's the babe?" he asked, his tone laced with a hint of amusement, his eyes flicking between Finn and me. I felt a surge of irritation at his casual remark but pushed it aside, focusing on applying pressure to Finn’s wound.

"She's an old friend," Finn answered. "And off-limits, Michael," he added sharply. I shot Michael a pointed glare, daring him to say anything else.

"Can we trust her?" the man with slicked-back black hair asked, his voice tinged with skepticism. I met his gaze, sensing his apprehension. I couldn't blame him; trust doesn't come easy, especially not in this world. "You can trust me," I replied firmly, my tone leaving no room for doubt. Despite the circumstances, I refused to let anyone question my integrity.

Isabell's voice carried a note of determination as she spoke up. "She's my friend, Anthony," she asserted firmly. Anthony's gaze shifted between us, his eyes probing for any hint of deception in my expression. I met his scrutiny head-on, refusing to waver. After a tense moment, he nodded, seemingly satisfied with Isabell's response.

As the van hurtled through the dimly lit alley, tires squealing against the pavement, I stole a worried glance at Finn. His pallor was alarming, sweat beading on his forehead, and his breaths came in ragged gasps. "Finn," I murmured urgently, leaning closer, "you don't look well. Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

He managed a weak smile. "I'll be fine, Lily." His words were calm and reassuring, but I could see the effort it took for him to maintain his composure.

"You're as stubborn as ever," I remarked with a wry smile, shaking my head. "But if you don't mind, I'd like to assess that wound. Can't have you bleeding out on us, can we?"

Finn nodded, conceding to my request. Carefully, I peeled back his shirt, revealing an angry red gash running along his shoulder. The sight made my breath catch—it was deeper than I had expected. "That's quite a nasty wound," I muttered, concern lacing my voice. "Do we have a first aid kit in here?"

"The first aid kit should be under the seat," Anthony responded, his voice tinged with concern. I reached beneath the seat, my fingers searching until they found a small case. With a quick pop, I opened it and rifled through the contents, finding gauze pads. Pressing them against Finn's wound, I tried to stem the bleeding. Finn winced but remained stoic, his discomfort palpable yet unspoken.

"How's he holding up?" Anthony asked.

"I've slowed the bleeding," I replied, my tone steady despite the urgency. "But it's deep. We need to get him to a doctor as soon as possible."

"You can ask me directly," Finn interjected, his words strained through gritted teeth.

Anthony glanced at Finn. "Right, like you'll tell me the truth," he remarked, his tone tinged with a hint of amusement.

Finn’s hand covered mine, gentle but reassuring. "I'll be alright, Lily," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the engine's hum. The van sped through the city streets, lights reflecting off the wet pavement, creating a kaleidoscope of colors on our faces.

"So, Lily… how did you and Finn meet?" Anthony asked conversationally, glancing at me again.

I hesitated before answering. "High school," I said, smiling. "But I think it would be more interesting to hear how Finn met all of you."

"We weren't in many classes together, but we had the same group of friends," Finn interjected, admiringly. "She was always the quiet one. I'm surprised at how she's taking charge now."

"A lot can change in four years," I teased, trying to lighten the mood.

"Fair," Finn replied with a hint of a smile.

A sudden jolt rocked the van as Michael swerved to avoid a pothole. Finn gasped, clutching my hand tighter. Our eyes met, and for a moment, the chaotic world around us faded. The intensity of the moment, the proximity of our faces, the raw vulnerability in Finn's eyes—it all hung in the air between us.

Michael's voice broke the spell. "We're almost there," he said, a mix of determination and urgency in his tone.

I glanced at Finn. "Just a bit longer," I said softly, my heart aching with worry and old feelings resurfacing. I brushed a strand of hair from his forehead, my touch lingering. His eyes met mine, filled with depth I'd never seen before.

Finn leaned closer, his breath warm against my skin as he whispered, "Thank you." His voice was soft and hoarse, filled with gratitude. The intensity of his gaze made my heart skip a beat.

"Of course," I whispered back, my voice barely audible. I leaned closer, the warmth of his body, the scent of his cologne, the feel of his breath on my skin—it was all so familiar, so comforting. I wanted to stay like this forever.

Finn squeezed my hand gently, his touch both reassuring and electrifying. It sent a shiver down my spine, my palms growing sweaty. His gaze lingered on my face, intense and almost overwhelming.

The van swerved again, and I clutched onto Finn harder, my grip tightening. The adrenaline coursed through my veins, making every sensation feel heightened and surreal. I focused on Finn. He winced with each bump in the road but managed a small, confident smile. "You're doing great," he whispered, his breath hot on my neck. Determined, I steadied my hands and applied more pressure to his wound, my heart racing but resolute. This nightmare was far from over, but maybe with Finn, I would get through it.

The van sped out of the city, Michael expertly navigating the winding country roads. The tension began to ease as we left the danger behind. Finn's grip on my hand loosened. The adrenaline faded, and exhaustion set in. "You did great tonight," Finn said, his voice rough with emotion. "You were incredible." A blush crept up my neck, and my heart skipped a beat.

Anthony cleared his throat, interrupting the moment. "We're getting close to my parents' house. Just a few more minutes." His voice was steady, but there was an edge of nervousness.

As the van hurtled around a bend in the road, the sight of the mansion emerged, commanding attention against the backdrop of the night sky. Its imposing stone walls exuded a soft, golden glow, inviting yet ominous in the darkness. The driveway unfolded like a ribbon, leading us toward the grandeur of the estate, flanked by rows of Italian Cypress trees standing sentinel, their dark silhouettes adding to the air of mystery surrounding the mansion.

A grand fountain came into view, dominating the center of the circular driveway. Water danced down its intricate sides, splashing into a pristine marble basin below. The sight was a stark contrast to the chaos and peril we'd left behind, like stepping into an oasis of calm amidst the storm of violence and danger.

As I helped Finn out of the van and headed toward the imposing mansion, the weight of the journey pressed heavily upon me. The contrast between our harrowing escape and the tranquil opulence before me heightened my sense of urgency. With Finn leaning on me, we moved quickly, aware that my ordeal was far from over.

Chapter One

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

[ktzt96-blog]

Gong ShangJiao's weakness

<Gong San, who can call out Gong Er soft side>

Chapter 1 : Restless Nights

Yuanzhi had not slept well for two weeks. The battle with WuFone had left Gong Palace in disarray, both physically and mentally. In front of the mountain gate, the wounded lay in heaps, the damage was extensive, and the back mountain, once vibrant with life, now held only the remains of two houses: Yue and Xue.

The stress and worry gnawed at Yuanzhi, preventing him from finding peace. Even the slightest sound—the footfalls of a servant, the whisper of the wind—would jolt him awake. Another sleepless night had passed, and as dawn broke, he dressed and set off to find his brother. Jinfu, Shangjue’s personal guard, was injured and needed months to recover, adding to Yuanzhi’s sense of urgency.

"Where is my brother?" Yuanzhi demanded, his eyes dark with exhaustion.

"Young Master Zhi," a servant replied cautiously, "Master left the palace early and went to Sword Master."

Yuanzhi’s frustration bubbled over. "That Gong Ziyu is too much. Why does he summon my brother constantly? Doesn’t he know my brother has responsibilities?"

Muttering under his breath, Yuanzhi headed to Yu Palace. When he arrived, he saw JinFan standing guard at the door.

"Is my brother inside?"

"Young Master Zhi, Sword Master and Master Jiao are having an important meeting. Please wait in the guest room."

"Why? Did they say I’m not allowed in?" JinFan’s silence was answer enough. Yuanzhi tried to push past him, but JinFan blocked his way.

"What are you doing? Who are you to stop me? Do you think you’re someone important just because you’re engaged to Gong Zishang? Move when I tell you to!" JinFan stood firm, pretending not to hear him. Annoyed, Yuanzhi started to fight, but JinFan merely dodged his blows and continued to block the door.

In the midst of their struggle, Yuanzhi suddenly felt dizzy and lost his balance, tripping over his own feet. The door was ajar, and two figures emerged. One of them swiftly moved to support Yuanzhi.

When Yuanzhi saw his brother, he stopped his resistance and behaved. "Ge~"

"JinFan, don't bully my younger brother," Gong Ziyu said, though his tone was teasing. "Oh, now he’s also your younger brother," Gong Ziyu added with a smirk.

JinFan responded respectfully, "Sword Master, I did nothing to Young Master Zhi. He seemed weak from the beginning."

Feeling offended, Yuanzhi wanted to argue, but a stern look from Shangjue made him reconsider. "Yuanzhi," Shangjue called calmly, and Yuanzhi reluctantly bowed to Gong Ziyu.

"Sword Master."

"Why are you looking for me?" Shangjue asked, and Yuanzhi hesitated. He had no solid reason other than wanting to be near his brother.

"I was wondering if there’s anything I can help with at Jiao Palace," Yuanzhi said, his tone softening when he addressed Shangjue.

Gong Ziyu couldn’t resist teasing him further. "If Brother Yuanzhi has extra time, he can come help at Yu Palace."

Yuanzhi forced a smile. "There are plenty of people at Yu Palace. Even if I’m not helping, I believe Sword Master can manage."

Chapter 2 : Silent Comfort

Shangjue returned to his paperwork, his desk covered with reports and documents. There was little Yuanzhi could do to assist, but he refused to leave his brother’s side. He felt safe when he was with Shangjue, and as the minutes ticked by, he began to feel drowsy.

Noticing the sudden quiet, Shangjue looked up to find Yuanzhi asleep at the table. Gently, he approached and sat beside his brother, carefully laying Yuanzhi’s head on his lap. Each movement was tender, as if handling a fragile treasure.

Shangjue observed Yuanzhi’s pale, exhausted face, feeling a pang of guilt. He had been too busy to take care of his younger brother properly. Now, as Yuanzhi slept soundly, Shangjue smiled softly and stroked his brother’s forehead. Yuanzhi flinched slightly, and Shangjue held his breath, not wanting to wake him.

A knock at the door interrupted the moment. A servant announced that lunch was ready to be served.

"Tell everyone to go back. I will summon you when needed. And make sure no one makes any noise," Shangjue instructed.

The servant, confused, relayed the message to the others. That day, Jiao Palace was quieter than usual, a haven of peace in the aftermath of chaos, where two brothers found solace in each other’s presence.

Chapter 3: The Wedding Opposition

Gong Yuan Zhi stood in the grand hall of Gong Palace, his face set in a determined scowl. The air was thick with tension as he declared, "I oppose this wedding. I refuse to call Jin Fan my brother-in-law."

The elders and family members gathered in the hall exchanged worried glances. Gong Shang Jiao, Yuan Zhi's older brother, stepped forward, his expression a mix of anger and disbelief. "Yuan Zhi, this is absurd. What reason could you possibly have for opposing the marriage of Zi Sheng and Jin Fan?"

Yuan Zhi clenched his fists, his voice rising in frustration. "I just don't want it! He can’t be part of our family!"

"That is not a reason," Shang Jiao retorted, his patience wearing thin. "You’re being unreasonable."

Yuan Zhi opened his mouth to argue, but the words caught in his throat. He couldn't articulate the tangle of emotions and memories that had led him to this moment. Frustrated and feeling misunderstood, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the hall.

Later that evening, Shang Jiao found his younger brother sulking in their shared courtyard. The moonlight cast long shadows across the stone pathway, and the air was cool and still. Shang Jiao approached Yuan Zhi, his anger softened by concern.

"Yuan Zhi," he began gently, "talk to me. Why are you so opposed to this marriage?"

Yuan Zhi sighed, the fight gone out of him. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me," Shang Jiao encouraged, sitting beside him.

Taking a deep breath, Yuan Zhi started to explain. "Ge, you knew we had many conflicts back then. He always sided with Gong Zi Yu, and I hated him for it. He was always so condescending, treating me like a foolish child."

Shang Jiao listened patiently, piecing together the history he had only partially known. "Yuan Zhi, Jin Fan was fulfilling his duty. He was protecting Gong Zi Yu, just as any loyal guard would. He may have seemed harsh, but he was doing his job."

Yuan Zhi looked down, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know that now. But back then, I felt so disrespected. He treated me like I was nothing."

Shang Jiao placed a reassuring hand on his brother's shoulder. "People change, Yuan Zhi. Jin Fan understands that you were young and impulsive. He doesn't hold those times against you anymore. In fact, he wants to apologize."

"Apologize?" Yuan Zhi echoed, his surprise evident.

"Yes," Shang Jiao confirmed. "Jin Fan has seen how you've grown and matured. He respects you, and he regrets any hurt he caused. You should give him a chance."

Just then, Jin Fan approached the courtyard, having been summoned by Shang Jiao earlier. He stood a respectful distance away, waiting to be acknowledged.

"Jin Fan," Shang Jiao called, "come here."

Jin Fan stepped forward, his demeanor calm and sincere. "Young Master Yuan Zhi, I owe you an apology."

Yuan Zhi looked up, meeting Jin Fan's eyes for the first time in what felt like years. He saw not the condescending guard of his past, but a man willing to make amends.

"I apologize for any disrespect I showed you in the past," Jin Fan continued. "I was only doing my duty, but I see now that I could have handled things differently. I hope we can put the past behind us and move forward as family."

Yuan Zhi hesitated, the old wounds still tender but beginning to heal. He glanced at his brother, who gave him an encouraging nod. Taking a deep breath, Yuan Zhi stood and faced Jin Fan.

"Apology accepted," he said,

Jin Fan look of relief and gratitude crossing his face. "Thank you, Young Master Yuan Zhi."

Shang Jiao smiled, feeling a weight lift from his shoulders. "Good. Now, let’s prepare for the wedding with a united heart."

Chapter 4: The Reluctant Concession

The aftermath of the battle with WuFone had left Jiao Gong Palace in disarray. The once-mighty stronghold now lay vulnerable, with many of its trusted guards injured or incapacitated, including JinFu. The hallways were quieter, filled with a somber atmosphere as the injured were tended to and repairs were undertaken.

"Brother," Yuanzhi began, his voice steady despite the exhaustion lining his face. "I need to speak with you."

Shangjue looked up, his expression softening slightly at the sight of his younger brother. "What is it, Yuanzhi?"

"I want to accompany you on your next trip outside Gong Manor," Yuanzhi stated firmly. "With JinFu and many others injured, you need someone you can trust by your side."

Shangjue's eyes narrowed. "No, Yuanzhi. It's too dangerous. You need to stay here and rest."

"Rest? How can I rest knowing you’re out there with so few guards? Either you take me with you, or you don’t go at all," Yuanzhi declared, his voice rising with a mix of frustration and desperation.

Shangjue sighed, rubbing his temples. "Yuanzhi, you know I can't allow that. Your safety is my priority. You're not ready for the dangers out there."

"I’m seventeen, Shangjue! I’m not a child anymore. You always say you trust me, but when it comes down to it, you never let me prove myself," Yuanzhi argued, his eyes flashing with determination. "I’m going with you, or you’re not going either."

The standoff between the brothers intensified, neither willing to back down. Finally, Shangjue stood up, his expression hardening. "This is not a matter of trust, Yuanzhi. It’s about responsibility. I can’t focus on the mission if I’m constantly worried about you. And you're still a child"

"Then make it simple," Yuanzhi said stubbornly, his resolve unwavering. "Either take me with you or stay until JinFu is well enough to accompany you."

"You believe JinFu more than me," ShangJue said.

"No, Ge, it's not like that. You know what I said," Yuanzhi explained, his voice wavering as he was on the brink of tears.

"You can't handle…," Shangjue began softly.

"You never believe me," Yuanzhi said, hurt evident in his voice.

"No, Yuanzhi, I believe you. You're so good for your age, but you're just not ready for the outside world," Shangjue’s frustration grew, but he saw the determination in his brother’s eyes. He knew Yuanzhi wouldn't give up easily. The younger brother's health had already been fragile since the battle, and the last thing Shangjue wanted was for him to fall ill from stress and exhaustion.

"I'm not going to discuss this with you. Go back to your room," Shangjue commanded.

YuanZhi stomped out, feeling a mix of frustration and sadness. Days passed in uneasy silence between the brothers. Yuanzhi’s stubbornness turned to sulking protest, refusing to eat properly and overexerting himself. One afternoon, Shangjue found Yuanzhi collapsed in the training yard, his face pale and body trembling.

"Yuanzhi!" Shangjue cried out, rushing to his side. He lifted his brother gently, feeling the weight of guilt and worry pressing down on him. "Why do you do this to yourself?"

Yuanzhi’s eyelids fluttered open, his voice weak but defiant. "I… just want to be with you, Ge… to keep you safe." Then he fainted.

Shangjue’s heart ached at the sight of his brother’s frailty. He carried him back to his chamber, summoning the healer. As Yuanzhi rested, Shangjue sat by his bedside, the weight of his responsibilities and his love for his brother warring within him.

Yuanzhi's fever was high because he was already weak; he couldn't stand the fever. His consciousness was in and out, his dreams filled with the battle with WuFone. He dreamed of the moment his brother was lying in blood and unresponsive to his call. Shangjue tried to pull Yuanzhi out of the nightmares, his voice gentle but firm. "Yuanzhi, wake up. It's just a dream. I'm here."

The healer worked diligently, administering herbs and cooling compresses to bring down the fever. ShangJue remained by his brother's side, refusing to leave even for a moment. As the night wore on, Yuanzhi's fever gradually subsided, though his sleep remained fitful.

Shangjue's mind raced with thoughts of their recent battles and the ever-present threats they faced. He couldn't help but feel a deep sense of guilt for putting his brother in danger, for not protecting him better. He recalled Yuanzhi's words before he fainted, his desire to keep him safe. It was a role reversal that Shangjue found both touching and troubling.

As dawn approached, Yuanzhi's breathing evened out, and he finally fell into a deep, peaceful sleep. Shangjue allowed himself a moment of relief, though he knew their troubles were far from over. He stroked Yuanzhi's hair gently, whispering, "Rest now, my brother. I will find a way to make things right."

Yuanzhi murmured weakly, his eyelids drooping. His voice, barely a whisper, carried the weight of his exhaustion and vulnerability. "Ge.... don't leave me."

Shangjue's heart ached at the sight of his brother in such a state. He gently stroked Yuanzhi's hair, his touch light and reassuring his voice soft but filled with resolve. "I'll always be here."

"Ge..." Yuan Zhi began whimper again, his voice still weak .

"Shh, it's alright," Shangjue said softly. "You're safe, Yuanzhi. Just rest."

Yuanzhi's breathing gradually slowed, and he drifted back to sleep, the tension in his body easing. Shangjue watched over him, his mind filled with a mix of worry and determination.

The next morning, Yuanzhi awoke to find Shangjue still by his side. The elder brother had stayed awake, keeping watch through the night. Yuanzhi's heart swelled with gratitude and love. His expression a mix of relief and resignation.

"You win, Yuanzhi," Shang Jiao said softly. "But only until JinFu recovers. Then, I promise you, I will take every precaution to ensure your safety."

Yuanzhi managed a weak smile, his eyes shining with gratitude. "Thank you, Ge. I knew I'd win as always."

Shangjue nodded, squeezing his brother’s hand gently. "Foolish child. Bullying the whole manor was not enough, now you're starting to bully me too. Just promise me you’ll rest and regain your strength. We’ll face whatever comes together."

Yuanzhi, his heart swelling with affection and relief, whispered, "I promise, Ge. We'll face everything together."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx.........................................xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

[umbra-by-jacqui-natla]

Chapter Twenty Eight

Eddie and Carrie finally arrived at the MNBN building. The journey had been long, and they had walked for what felt like hours, yet surprisingly, neither of them felt the least bit tired. Eddie's clothes were drenched in sweat, giving the impression that he had been exerting himself all night, while Carrie looked as if she had just emerged from a ditch, her appearance disheveled and her clothes streaked with dirt.

As they stood at the entrance, a sudden ringing broke the silence. Eddie reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, the screen lighting up with Anne's name. The sight of her name made his pulse race, a reaction he couldn't control. Despite the thrill he felt, Eddie sighed and reluctantly pressed the red icon to reject the call.

"Who is Anne?" Venom's voice echoed in Eddie's mind. "Your pulse has quickened."

"That is none of your damn business," Eddie snapped, his tone bitter and defensive.

"Everything of yours is my business, Eddie. We have no secrets," Venom retorted with a hint of amusement.

Carrie, overhearing the internal conversation, interjected, addressing both of them. "Then you know exactly why we're going here before we get to your rocket, yeah?"

"Of course," Umbra responded in Carrie's mind, her voice calm and rational. "We've agreed to do so. We're not unreasonable."

The air around them felt thick with tension and unspoken words as Eddie and Carrie exchanged glances, each understanding the gravity of their mission. Despite the chaotic state of their appearances, they were driven by a shared sense of purpose and urgency. The MNBN building loomed before them, a symbol of the next step in their journey, laden with challenges and the hope of resolution.

Then, another buzzed occurred, coming from Eddie's phone again. He took his phone out, seeing Anne's name again. Reluctantly, after a whisper of cursing, he answered. "Yeah?"

"Eddie," Anne said at the other end. "Where are you? I need to see you."

"No, no, you can't see me," Eddie breathed.

"Eddie, I need you to tell me where you and Carrie are. We're coming to get you."

“No, you cannot come anywh— what do you mean we're coming and I've never mentioned Carrie."

"Listen," he heard Estelle's voice at the other side too. "Carrie texted me that she's with you to sort out something."

Eddie looked at Carrie, a tint of annoyance creeping through. "Carrie, did you text Estelle about this?"

Carrie met Eddie's gaze, her eyes wide and unyielding. "I don't want her to worry about me, okay," she said, her voice steady but tinged with defiance. "I couldn't just leave her hanging. Besides, she put up with me for nearly six years."

Eddie sighed, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

"Eddie, I need to talk Carrie," Estelle spoke up. "It concerns her journal."

Carrie stiffened at the mention of her journal. She hadn't expected Estelle to find it, let alone bring it up now. Eddie noticed the shift in Carrie's demeanor and turned away from her to continue the call. "Alright, alright. Meet us at the MNBN building. But be careful, alright?"

"We're on our way," Anne replied before the call ended.

Eddie pocketed his phone and turned to Carrie, his eyes narrowing. "Your journal? What's in it that's so important?"

Carrie hesitated, her gaze dropping to the ground. "Just... some stuff I wrote."

"Like what?" Venom asked.

"L-Like what?" Eddie copied.

Carrie was silent for a moment before answering. "Does the phrase 'black dawn, black moon' mean anything to Venom? Or Umbra at least?"

Silence fell between them for a while until Venom spoke up inside Eddie. "We'll tell you everything once we sort this out."

Eddie could feel Venom's unease echoing within him, a faint, gnawing worry that matched his own apprehension. Carrie remained quiet, her lips pressed into a thin line as they both turned to face the imposing entrance of the MNBN building once more.

The heavy glass doors slid open with a hiss, revealing a stark, modern lobby bathed in sterile white light. The contrast between their disheveled appearances and the pristine surroundings was striking, almost jarring. Eddie's heart pounded as they stepped inside, the weight of their mission pressing down on him like a physical force.

Upon entering the building, they were greeted by a suited, slightly overweight man with a tan complexion. His thinning black hair, along with a black mustache and goatee, gave him a distinctive appearance as he was leaving the receptionist's desk. Eddie immediately recognized him, but instead of being happy to see the man, he was filled with worry.

"Richard," Eddie said airlessly, opening the door. "Hey, Richard..."

"No!" the man, identified as Richard, said loudly. At first, he didn't realize it was Eddie until he had taken a couple of steps away from the desk. "Eddie? What are you-? Who's she-?"

"She's a friend and we gotta go up there," Eddie said, practically begging at this point, desperation evident in his voice.

"You know you're not supposed to be here, Eddie," Richard replied sternly, his gaze shifting to Carrie. "And ma'am, I'm sorry you got dragged into this."

Carrie squared her shoulders, her expression hardening with resolve. "I wasn't dragged into anything. I'm here because I need to be."

Richard's eyes flicked back to Eddie, uncertainty flickering across his face. "What's this about? You know how much trouble you're already in, Eddie."

"We don't have time for explanations, Richard," Eddie said, urgency lacing his voice. "We need to get upstairs. Now. I got to get up there, man."

"Look, I got love for you, bro," Richard said, his tone softening slightly, "but no can do."

"There's no such thing as can't," Eddie insisted, hoping his message would resonate with Richard like in old times.

"I'm sorry, man," Richard replied, shaking his head with a mix of regret and determination.

Eddie sighed, seemingly giving up, and took out his phone. "Okay, okay... Uh... Can you, uh, just give him this? He needs to see what's on it."

Carrie, standing silently, deduced that they were referring to Richard's boss. She observed the tension between the two men, feeling the gravity of the situation.

"Eddie, please. I really need this job," was all Richard could say, his voice tinged with desperation and a plea for understanding.

"Let's eat his brains," Venom growled inside him and Eddie's blue eyes briefly turned white with the black tendrils taking over.

"No!" Eddie shouted, moving away from Richard with his phone still in his hand. "You do not touch him! He is my friend."

"What's wrong with you?" Richard asked, now getting worried for his former colleague.

"He works three jobs just so that he can support his family," Eddie told the symbiote inside of him.

Umbra intervened in Carrie's mind, her voice soothing yet insistent. "Carrie, tell them we have no intention of harming him. We just need access."

Carrie took a step forward, her gaze fixed on Eddie. "We'll... find another way."

"That's the exact opposite of what I said."

"Umbra, please," Carrie mentally pleaded, her frustration mingling with desperation.

"Eddie, what's going on?" Richard inquired, his brow furrowed in concern. He took a step closer, trying to read Eddie's tense expression.

"We're leaving," Eddie said as he headed for the door. His movements were hurried, almost frantic, as if he were running from something unseen but very real. The urgency in his voice left little room for argument.

"We?" Venom asked, his voice dripping with curiosity and a hint of menace.

"Yeah," Eddie replied, his voice steady but his eyes betraying a storm of emotions. He glanced back at Richard, his gaze momentarily softening before he turned his attention back to the door.

"What's going on, Eddie?" Richard proceeded forward, his tone more insistent. He reached out a hand, trying to grasp Eddie's shoulder to halt his progress. The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with unspoken fears and unresolved questions.

"Just stay back!" Eddie shouted, his hand stretched out in a gesture of both warning and desperation. His eyes were wide, a mixture of fear and determination flashing across his face. The forcefulness of his shout echoed through the room, freezing Richard in his tracks.

Richard's hand paused mid-air, hovering inches away from Eddie's shoulder. The weight of Eddie's desperation was heavy, almost suffocating. Richard withdrew his hand, his face etched with worry and confusion.

"Eddie, I'm just trying to help," Richard said, his voice softer now, almost pleading.

"I know, Rich," Eddie replied, his voice cracking. "But this is bigger than us. Bigger than you can imagine. Just... trust me."

Richard nodded slowly, understanding dawning in his eyes, though uncertainty still lingered. "Alright, Eddie. But if you need anything, anything at all, you know where to find me."

Eddie gave a small nod, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Thanks, man. I appreciate it."

Eddie and Carrie walked out of the building and through the door as Eddie let out a curse under his breath. As the door closed behind them, Eddie and Carrie found themselves back in the harsh, unforgiving reality of the city streets. The MNBN building stood tall and imposing behind them, a fortress they needed to infiltrate but had been momentarily thwarted from entering.

Eddie's frustration was evident, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "We need another plan," he muttered, more to himself than to Carrie. "We need to get up there."

Carrie, sensing his turmoil, placed a hand on his arm. "We'll figure it out, Eddie.

"You want up?" Venom suggested slyly, making Eddie and Carrie look up at the tallest part of the building. "Well, why didn't you just say?"

Eddie let out a nervous laugh. "You're not serious," he said, staring up at the building. His pulse quickened at the thought of scaling the towering structure.

Venom's laughter echoed in his mind. "Do you want to get in or not?"

Carrie glanced at Eddie, her eyes narrowing. "Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?"

Eddie sighed, running a hand through his sweat-drenched hair. "Yeah, unfortunately, I am."

Without another word, Venom began to envelop Eddie, the familiar sensation of the symbiote's transformation washing over him. The black tendrils slithered up his body, covering him completely in a matter of seconds. Eddie felt the rush of power and agility coursing through him, the symbiote enhancing his every move.

Carrie watched in awe, a mixture of fear and admiration on her face. Umbra's presence within her stirred, urging her to be ready for whatever was to come.

"We'll follow," Umbra's voice echoed in Carrie's mind. "Just stay close."

Eddie, now fully transformed into Venom, turned to Carrie. "Hold on tight."

Carrie didn't hesitate. She wrapped her arms around Venom's muscular frame, her grip firm but not constricting. Venom's claws extended, and with a powerful leap, they launched into the air, heading straight for the side of the building.

The city blurred around them as they ascended, Venom's claws digging into the concrete with ease. The wind whipped past them, adding to the adrenaline rush. Carrie held on, her heart pounding in her chest, her mind racing with a mixture of fear and exhilaration.

Within moments, they reached the upper floors of the MNBN building. Venom's claws found purchase on a narrow ledge, and he landed at the top of the pointed building spine, allowing Carrie to catch her breath.

"Impressive," Umbra remarked, her voice filled with genuine admiration. "This whole world is."

"Hmm," Venom responded as if in agreement with her. "It is peaceful up here."

"Surprisingly, it is," Carrie responded, her voice barely above a whisper as she gazed out at the city below. The view was breathtaking, the lights of the city sparkling like stars against the night sky.

"I'm not very good with heights," Eddie admitted.

"Your world is not so ugly after all," Venom said in admiration yet grimly bitter. "I'm almost sorry to see it end."

The gravity of Venom's words hit Eddie like a punch to the gut, and Carrie tightened her grip, her eyes wide with fear and curiosity.

"What do you mean by that, Venom?" Carrie asked, her voice trembling slightly despite her attempts to keep it steady.

"What does that mean?" Eddie repeated, his voice edged with both frustration and fear, his eyes searching the darkness within himself where Venom resided.

Before Venom could even answer, a loud, roaring noise split the air. A soaring airplane flew overhead, its lights casting eerie shadows on the building's facade. The symbiote let out a distorted scream that reverberated through Eddie's mind like a thousand nails scraping against a chalkboard. Eddie came back to the surface, his own scream mingling with Venom's as they both lost their grip and balance, toppling off the building's edge, plummeting towards the ground.

Carrie's heart lurched violently as the sensation of freefall took hold. The air rushed past them in a deafening roar, the city below coming into sharp, terrifying focus. Her scream was ripped from her throat, lost in the cacophony of wind and the distant sounds of the bustling city below. The wind whistled strong past their ears, its icy fingers clawing at their skin and clothes as they hurtled towards the pavement.

"Do something!" Carrie screamed, her voice barely audible over the roar of the wind, her eyes wide with panic. Her mind raced, thoughts of the inevitable impact sending waves of terror through her body.

"Where'd you go? Where did you go?" Eddie yelled, his voice a mixture of panic and desperation as he flailed, reaching out for Venom. The symbiote's presence had vanished, leaving him feeling naked and vulnerable in the face of their impending doom. The ground rushed up to meet them with alarming speed, the details of the street below growing sharper and more distinct.

In those frantic moments, Eddie's thoughts were a chaotic jumble. His pulse thundered in his ears, drowning out almost everything but the sound of Carrie's screams and the rushing wind. He struggled to focus, to summon Venom's power back to the forefront. "Venom! Come on, man, we need you!" he shouted, his voice cracking with fear and urgency.

The wind's force was relentless, buffeting them as they fell. Carrie clung to Eddie, her grip tightening as she fought to stay conscious, the dizzying speed of their descent threatening to overwhelm her. Her mind flashed to all the things she had yet to do, all the words left unspoken, and a deep sense of helplessness began to creep in.

Suddenly, with a shuddering gasp, Eddie felt the familiar surge of the symbiote's presence. Venom's black tendrils exploded from within him, wrapping around his limbs and extending outward, reaching for anything to arrest their fall. The sensation was like a tidal wave of power coursing through his veins, and Eddie latched onto it with all his might.

"Hang on, Carrie!" he yelled, his voice now infused with a desperate determination. Venom's claws extended, finding purchase on the building's surface, tearing into the concrete with a visceral, grinding sound. But Carrie was still falling. "Carrie!"

Eddie's heart pounded as he realized the imminent danger Carrie was in. "Venom, we have to save her!" He shouted, his voice laced with desperation.

Venom growled in agreement, tendrils extending and whipping towards Carrie with lightning speed. As the ground rushed up to meet them, one of the tendrils finally made contact, wrapping around Carrie's waist and yanking her back towards Eddie. The sudden jerk halted her freefall, but the force of it nearly knocked the wind out of her.

Eddie's muscles burned with the effort as he pulled Carrie towards him, Venom's tendrils retracting and securing their hold on the building. Venom's grip held firm, its claws digging into the concrete wall.

"I got us," Venom said nonchalantly.

Carrie clung to Eddie, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Tha... Thanks," she managed to say between gulps of air.

Eddie held Carrie tightly against him, relief flooding through him as they clung to the side of the building, suspended high above the city streets. Venom's tendrils remained securely anchored, providing them with a precarious but stable foothold.

"We need to move," Umbra's voice echoed urgently in Carrie's mind. "Find a way inside before it's too late."

"Right, okay," Carrie managed to say and looked up. "Where's your boss's office?"

Eddie scanned the side of the building, his eyes searching for any openings or ledges that could provide access. "It's on the 27th floor," he said, his voice steadying as the initial shock of their fall began to fade. "Jack likes the view because it never gets old."

Then, Venom took over and started climbing. Once they reached the window of the 27th floor, Venom didn't hesitate. With a powerful thrust, they crashed through the window, glass shattering in an explosive rain around them as they landed inside the dimly lit office. The room was eerily quiet, the only sound the faint hum of the city outside and the distant wail of sirens. They quickly rose to their feet, brushing off shards of glass that clung to their skin, and took in their surroundings with heightened senses.

"Again?" Eddie grunted, inhaling sharply as the adrenaline coursed through his veins. "You're gonna get me killed."

"You die, I die," Venom's voice resonated in his head, a deep growl that Eddie had grown accustomed to.

"Yeah, well, you can always just shed my carcass and exchange it for another one whenever you need," Eddie muttered, his voice tinged with a mix of frustration and resignation.

"Why would I do that? You are far too good of a match to throw away so soon. Plus, I am starting to like you. You and I are not so different," Venom replied, his tone oddly sincere.

Eddie stared into the darkness of the office, feeling the weight of Venom's words settling over him like a heavy cloak. It was unsettling, yet strangely comforting to know that Venom saw something in him worth keeping. The room around them was sleek and modern, filled with the muted tones of expensive wood and brushed steel. A large mahogany desk sat in front of the broken glass window, shards covering it and the chair. The air carried an oppressive stillness, a foreboding sense of what was to come, as if the very walls were holding their breath.

"Thank you," Eddie replied to Venom as he walked to the desk.

"That sounds weirdly nice," Carrie commented, her voice breaking the heavy silence.

"That's Venom for you," Umbra replied ethereally soft in her mind. She floated just above the floor, her presence a whisper of shadows that seemed to blend with the dim light. "He has a way of surprising you, even when you think you know him."

Carrie nodded, her eyes darting around the room. The tension in the air was palpable, and she could feel the underlying menace that seemed to seep from every corner. It was clear that whatever awaited them in this office, it was not going to be a warm welcome.

Eddie found a piece of paper and a black pen, writing down as quick as he could: DO THE RIGHT THING - - - > SHITHEAD!!!

"Okay," he muttered to himself, drawing the three lines under 'SHITHEAD' and placed his phone on the desk next to the note. "Here's your evidence."

Eddie sighed deeply, his head leaning back.

"Okay, are we now going to deal with Drake?" Carrie asked, her arms folded and looking on at him.

"Yeah, we will," Eddie replied with Carrie walking over to him, his blue eyes looking straight on to the night.

"Jump," Venom spoke, making Eddie's eyes widened.

"Nope, we'll take the elevator," Eddie declared and started walking away from the desk.

Carrie stood there, her eyes gazing at the written note. And then, the words started to move, reshaping and rewritten into a new message.

There it was again, echoing in her mind like a haunting melody she couldn't quite grasp. The poem had been tormenting Carrie for months, each line dripping with mystery and confusion. It was as if the words held a secret she was desperate to uncover, yet they slipped through her mental fingers every time she tried to grasp them. If only she had her journal with her, she could have written it down, dissected it, and perhaps made some sense of the relentless verses. She cursed herself for leaving it at home, a tool now as vital as air. But then remembered that Estelle got it, which made herself cursed again for leaving it behind.

"Don't worry, Carrie," Umbra's voice whispered reassuringly in her mind, a gentle presence in the chaos. "I got it memorized, but this is odd."

"What do you mean?" Carrie whispered back, her voice barely audible, not wanting to break the fragile thread of connection.

"That was never a part of it. At least that's what I remember," Umbra responded, a hint of confusion tinged with concern lacing her tone.

Carrie's heart skipped a beat. "You're saying it's an added verse? A new verse?" she asked, her voice a mix of excitement and apprehension. The idea of the poem evolving, changing like a living entity, both thrilled and terrified her.

"Exactly," Umbra replied, her tone thoughtful. "Now go with Eddie and I'll try my best to explain everything to you."

Carrie nodded, a sense of urgency propelling her forward as she turned to follow Eddie. She caught up to him just as they reached the elevator. The sleek, metallic doors slid open with a soft chime, and they stepped inside, the polished interior reflecting their tense expressions. Eddie pressed the button for the ground floor, and the elevator began its descent, the soft hum of the machinery filling the silence.

"So, what's going on?" Carrie asked, breaking the silence.

"Um, what?" Eddie said, puzzled by her question. "Or are asking Venom? Or Umbra?"

"Both," she replied. "What's with the whole 'black dawn, black moon' thing? What's that?"

"It's a poem for me and the symbiotes," Umbra explained. "It's like a story."

"Right," Eddie said, glancing at Carrie, "but what's the story?"

"It's a prophecy," Venom replied in Eddie's mind, his voice a low growl. "A warning from our world."

"A warning about what?" Carrie pressed, her curiosity piqued.

"A great conflict," Umbra interjected. "It foretells a battle that will decide the fate of our kind and yours."

Carrie's eyes widened. "A battle? Between symbiotes and humans?"

"Yes and no," Venom said cryptically. "It's more complex than that. The poem speaks of choices, of right and wrong, of light and darkness. It's about the balance of power and the consequences of imbalance."

Eddie leaned against the elevator wall, processing the information. "So, this 'black dawn, black moon' is like a warning for both our worlds?"

"Exactly," Umbra confirmed. "It's a reminder that the actions of individuals can tip the scales, for better or worse. The added verse you saw indicates that the prophecy is unfolding, that the conflict is imminent."

Carrie shivered. "And what about 'Riot burns, revolution's doom'? What does that mean?"

Venom's voice turned grim. "Riot is one of us. A symbiote, like me, but far more dangerous. If he's involved, it means chaos and destruction."

"Riot seeks power at any cost," Umbra added. "He believes in domination and control, not coexistence."

The elevator doors opened, revealing the pristine lobby once again. Eddie and Carrie stepped out, the weight of the prophecy heavy on their minds.

"So, what do we do?" Carrie asked, her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her. Her eyes darted around the dimly lit room, searching for any sign of an escape route. The air was thick with tension, and the faint hum of electricity buzzing through the walls seemed to amplify the urgency of their situation.

But before an answer came, a faint chatter echoed across the hallway. It started as a distant murmur but quickly grew louder, punctuated by the unmistakable clinking of metal and the sharp, mechanical sounds of weapons being readied. The sound of weapons powering up perched their ears and they looked over, realizing the SWAT team had arrived at the building. The tension in the room skyrocketed as their worst fears were confirmed. The SWAT team moved with military precision, their boots pounding against the floor in a synchronized rhythm that reverberated through the walls. The sight of their dark uniforms and the glint of their tactical gear under the flickering fluorescent lights sent a shiver down Carrie's spine.

"Hands!" The SWAT leader shouted at them, his voice booming and authoritative. "On the ground! Now!" The command sliced through the air like a knife, leaving no room for hesitation.

"Shit," Umbra cursed in Carrie's mind as they rose their hands up. The word echoed in her thoughts, a bitter acknowledgment of the peril they were in. She felt the adrenaline surge through her veins, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure the SWAT team could hear it.

"Guys, you do not want to do this," Eddie said to them. "Trust me." His voice was calm but carried a weight of experience and desperation. Eddie stepped forward slightly, his hands raised in a gesture of peace. He knew the stakes were high, and one wrong move could turn the situation deadly. His eyes met the SWAT leader's, trying to convey a silent plea for understanding.

Carrie watched him, her breath caught in her throat, hoping against hope that his words would reach through the chaos and find some semblance of reason.

"Mask!" The leader called out.

"Copy!" The officers chanted, putting on their gas masks.

The sight of their dark uniforms and the glint of their weapons under the sterile lights filled Eddie and Carrie with a sense of dread. Time seemed to slow as the team fanned out, methodically sweeping the area.

"All right, we did warn you," Carrie said to them. Then, she and Eddie looked at each other before shouting, "Mask!"

"Copy," Venom and Umbra said in union and they took over.

Venom took tall in his symbiote form, the ceiling lights shining on his black gooey skin, with dark gray veins detailing his muscular body and his large pupil-less eyes stared at them. Umbra stood beside him with her usual flawless beauty and the light shone on her white face, which made looked even more outworldly. Her black eyes watched them, her red irises glowing with great intensity, and her long white hair floating around her. She was in her black, goo-like armor, which matched the symbiote.

"What the hell are those things?" one of the officers shouted which was followed by more shouting indistinctly.

Then, they shot fire at them. The bullets ricocheted off Venom and Umbra, their forms impervious to the onslaught. The SWAT team's initial confidence shattered as their weapons proved ineffective. The scene erupted into chaos, the air thick with the acrid smell of gunpowder and the desperate shouts of the officers.

Venom snarled as he caught one of the bullets mid-air and crushed it in his powerful grip. He turned his head to Umbra and gave her a nod. Umbra's eyes narrowed as she extended her hand, a dark tendril shooting out and wrapping around the closest SWAT officer. The tendril lifted him effortlessly off the ground, his mask falling away as he struggled in its grip.

An officer threw a smoke bomb at Umbra but Venom caught it with his large clawed hand. The smoke freed, and the symbiote's tongue came out, smiling.

"What the hell?" One of the officer called out worriedly.

"Hold your fire!" Another officer shouted.

Umbra, with her tendril, threw the officer down with the officer screaming. Then, her other tendrils shot out, smashing every light bulb in sight until there was darkness.

"Flares!" an officer shouted.

"Copy that!" came the immediate response as the officers reached for their flares. In the stifling darkness, the sudden bursts of red and orange light cast long, flickering shadows on the walls, distorting everything and everyone in the room. 

But the flares only seemed to make Venom and Umbra more mencing. Umbra's pale face and glowing red eyes stood out starkly against the dark, her presence an eerie beacon in the gloom. Venom's massive form loomed like a nightmare brought to life, his eyes reflecting the fire light with a malevolent gleam.

"Retreat and regroup!" the SWAT leader barked, his voice tinged with a new edge if uncertainty. 

"He's there! He's there!" one of the officers yelled out. 

"Reload!" the leader commanded more loudly.

"Anybody see them?" another officer asked through the shouting. 

Before the team could act, Venom lunged forward with terrifying speed, covering the distances in a heartbeat. With a swift, powerful swipe of his arm, he sent two of them crashing into the wall, their bodies crumpling upon impact. 

"Move, move, move!" The leader commanded and they charged on. 

Umbra's tendrils writhed and lashed out, ensnaring another officer's leg and yanking him off his feet. The man screamed as he was dragged towards her, the sound cutting through the chaos like a knife. In a fluid motion, she released him, sending him sprawling across the floor. Then, her tendrils snaked through the air towards the team's communication equipment. One officer managed to pull out his radio, but before he could speak, a tendrils wrapped around it, crushing it to pieces. The officer's eyes widened in fear as he looked up at her, realizing how outmatched they were. 

Venom, meanwhile, was a whirlwind of motion, deflecting bullets and disarmjng officers with brutal efficiency. His roar filled the air, a primal sound that sent shivers down the spines of even the most seasoned SWAT members. 

"Stand down! Stand down!" the leader shouted, his voice desperate. But it was too late; the team was already in disarray, their formation broken, their confidence shattered. 

"Let's finish this," Umbra said, her voice cold and decisive. She raised her arms, and dark energy crackled around her fingers. Venom mirrored her, his own strength surging to the surface. 

Together, they unleashed their combined fury. Umbra's energy exploded outward in a wave, knocking the remaining officers off their feet and sending their equipment flying. 

"Wait, we're supposed to stop them," Carrie spoke up inside Umbra. "That's too far!" 

Umbra snarled. "You weren't thinking that in Chamberlain." 

Venom followed with a guttarl roar as he picked up an officer from his leg, hanging him upside down and licked his lips. 

"No! We do not eat policemen!" Eddie shouted from inside Venom. 

But before anything else happened, a scream echoed the building.

Link to Chapter Twenty Nine

[mccdreamys-writes]

smiles for miles – 19. soaring

in my brain, dial it up, everything i want to say. - Luke Combs, One Number Away

S E P T E M B E R   2 3 R D   2 0 1 1

As I slowly started to wake up, my mind felt like it was swimming in confusion, unable to distinguish between dreams and reality. But then, I heard voices in the distance, familiar and comforting. It was my team.

As the fog in my mind began to clear, one thought broke through with crystal-clear clarity. "Maile," I said, her name coming out like a sigh of relief as I realized she was safe.

My teammates shared knowing looks, understanding the seriousness of the situation. "Hey there, sleepyhead," Morgan said with a chuckle, his voice warm and comforting, like a familiar tune filling the room.

"Where am I? And where's Maile?" I demanded, the urgency thick in my voice as I tried to make sense of what was happening.

"We're working on a case," Rossi replied calmly, meeting my eyes with a serious look. "And Maile is safe in the hospital," he added, trying to ease my worry.

Frustration surged through me, and I turned to Morgan with a fierce glare, my anger and defiance evident. "I said I wasn't going," I insisted, my voice echoing with determination. "Maile needs me there."

But Morgan didn't back down, his determination matching mine. He shook his head solemnly, assuring me that Maile was okay. "No, we need you here," he said firmly, his words grounding me in the midst of my chaotic emotions. "She's fine."

His assumption sparked a surge of defiance within me, fueling a determination to speak up. "You don't get to make that call," I countered, my voice firm with a sense of justice. "Maile's hurt and scared," I added, showing how much I cared about her.

But as I spoke, the weight of my own words hit me. "Wait, how did I even get here?" I asked suddenly, pieces of the puzzle starting to click into place in my mind.

Morgan's laughter filled the room, breaking the tension with its thunderous sound. His amusement was clear in the lines around his eyes and the curve of his lips. "That was all Maile," he admitted, revealing the truth behind my sudden arrival, and it shattered the illusion of control I thought I had.

Confusion swirled in my mind like a thick fog, making it hard to grasp what Morgan was saying. "What?" I blurted out, disbelief and confusion coloring my voice as I tried to understand.

He nodded solemnly, handing me a file that felt heavy with significance. As he settled across from me, his expression serious, I felt a wave of disbelief wash over me.

"It was her idea to bring you onto the jet while you were asleep," he explained, his words hanging in the air with weight.

She did that? The realization hit me like a lightning bolt, suddenly everything clicking into place. But with understanding came a flood of questions, each one adding another layer to the complex web of our shared experiences.

Why would she do that? The question nagged at me, lingering like an unsolved puzzle in my mind, begging for an answer.

"You sure had a strong grip," Morgan chuckled, breaking the tension with his light-hearted comment. His words served as a gentle reminder of the strong connection between us, even in the face of challenges. "Wouldn't let go of her hand."

Despite my lingering uncertainty, I took comfort in the trust I had in Maile's judgment. If she had arranged for my rescue and reassured them about her own safety, then I had to trust that she knew what she was doing.

With a firm nod, I prepared myself for the task ahead, determined to push aside any doubts and focus on the job at hand. "So, what's the situation?" I asked, my voice steady as I settled into the familiar routine of our work.

As JJ's words sank in, a heavy sense of seriousness washed over us. Three young lives taken in a senseless act of violence, their innocence lost to a cruel twist of fate. The image of them by the peaceful lake, their vitality snuffed out in an instant, lingered in my mind like a haunting specter.

Garcia's voice wavered as she relayed the grim details from the coroner's report. "The first boy died five days before, the second three days before, and the third just a day before they were found," she explained, the weight of the words hanging in the air.

As the reality of the situation hit us, a sense of urgency took hold. "And now Kingsland PD just called, saying three more boys were reported missing," JJ added, her voice filled with grim determination.

Texas, I thought to myself, the idea flashing through my mind like a distant light in the growing darkness. While I didn't have any strong feelings about the state overall, I knew there were pockets of beauty and strength waiting to be uncovered within its vast landscape.

"If he's sticking to his pattern, we've got one day to find them," Rossi stated firmly, emphasizing the urgency of our mission. "Before the first boy ends up dead."

Hotch's voice cut through the noise of the plane's engines, his words carrying a sense of determination that filled the cramped cabin. "We've still got about three hours until we touch down," he announced, his tone authoritative. "When we get there, Morgan and Reid will head to the morgue. Dave and Blake, you'll go to the crime scene. JJ and I will be at the precinct. Get some rest if you can," he added, his instructions carrying the weight of command.

As the team settled in for the rest of the flight, Morgan attempted to strike up a conversation again. "I'm sorry I had to do it this way," he admitted, his voice carrying a sincerity that filled the small space of the cabin. His words lingered in the air, delicate and uncertain, trying to bridge the gap between us.

Intrigued, I turned to him with a curious expression, eager to hear more. "How'd you pull it off?" I asked, the question hanging between us like a secret waiting to be shared.

Morgan chuckled, the sound breaking the silence with warmth. "Remember the jello?" he said, a playful glint in his eye revealing his cunning.

I nodded, a smile playing at my lips as the memory resurfaced. How could I not, it happened only yesterday.

"She mentioned you're a deep sleeper," Morgan started, his voice cutting through the quiet of the cabin with a steady rhythm. "So, she thought it'd be smart to get you on the plane around 5 AM this morning while you were still out." His words carried a hint of admiration for Maile's cleverness, showing how dedicated she was to our mission.

I chuckled softly, shaking my head with a mix of amusement and affection. The idea of Maile keeping watch over me while I slept might sound odd to some, but to me, it felt reassuring, like having someone looking out for me, even in my dreams.

Her careful planning to get me on the plane showed how much she cared about my safety. Despite the possibility that her actions could be seen as intrusive, I couldn't help but feel thankful for her presence and the lengths she went to ensure I was okay.

Truth be told, the job I had wasn't just about making money—it was my anchor, tying me to a sense of purpose and belonging. But despite my passion for the work, fear wanted me to keep close to Maile, afraid of losing her again after so long apart.

The idea of being apart from her again was too much to handle, sending chills of fear down my spine. Without her, I felt lost, like I was drifting in a sea of uncertainty and longing. The thought of going back to that emptiness was something I couldn't bear to think about.

A playful smirk crossed Morgan's face as he brought up the topic, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. "So, anything happened between you two yet?" he joked, a mischievous tone in his voice.

I shot him a cautious look, silently urging him to be careful with his words. "Hey, Morgan," I warned, my voice carrying a hint of caution, signaling him to steer clear of sensitive topics.

But he didn't back down, brushing off my warning with a grin. "Come on, just curious," he insisted, his amusement evident in his widening smile.

"Why would anything have happened?" I responded defensively, a hint of vulnerability creeping into my voice as I tried to shield myself from his probing question.

Leaning in closer, Morgan lowered his voice to a secretive tone, as if sharing a hidden truth. "Well, 'cause she said she loved you and you said you loved her back," he revealed, his words hanging in the air like a lingering echo of a secret shared.

In response, I leaned back in my seat, a defensive barrier rising between us as I crossed my arms protectively. It was a familiar stance, a shield I'd adopted from past hurts, a silent signal of my reluctance to open up to more pain.

"You say you love Garcia, and she says it back. So, anything going on between you two?" I challenged, my voice steady and unyielding as I turned the tables, daring him to a verbal sparring match.

"Touche," he admitted, his expression softening as he acknowledged the strength of my argument.

"But I'm not in love with Penelope," he clarified, his tone tinged with a hint of amusement.

I raised an eyebrow, a silent challenge hanging in the air between us. "And who said I'm in love with Maile?" I retorted, skepticism coloring my words.

Morgan's laughter filled the space between us, warm and infectious. "Come on, Alex, everything about you screams it," he insisted, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I've met your dad, your brother. You love them, yet you are completely different with Maile, a person you once described as family."

"That doesn't mean I'm in love with her," I countered firmly, my words a shield against the vulnerability threatening to break through. Despite the truth pulsing beneath the surface, I refused to let it overpower me, determined to keep my emotions in check.

Determined to shift the focus, I steered the conversation in a different direction, countering Morgan's probing with a question of my own. "Do you ever call your family 'baby girl'?" I asked casually, masking my true intentions behind a seemingly innocent inquiry.

A moment of thoughtful silence settled over us, my question hanging in the air like a weight. With a deep breath, Morgan conceded, his admission confirming the validity of my observation.

"No, I don't," he admitted, his voice carrying a hint of resignation as he acknowledged the truth of my point.

"Exactly," I responded triumphantly, a sense of satisfaction coursing through me as I seized upon his response as validation of my own beliefs.

Defeated, Morgan stood up from his seat with a sigh, the lingering weight of our playful banter still palpable in the air. "Alright, you win this round," he admitted, his words carrying a hint of playful defiance. "But don't think this is the end of it, Dr. Blake," he teased, a mischievous twinkle in his eye suggesting future battles to come.

I couldn't help but chuckle at his jest, the laughter bubbling up from within me like a spring of joy. "Thanks, Morgan," I said sincerely, feeling a warmth spread through me as I appreciated the bond that held us together.

"Anytime," he replied with a grin, making his way down the narrow aisle of the plane. As he disappeared from view, a sense of gratitude washed over me, a silent recognition of the strong friendship that united our team.

As the gentle ring of my phone broke the silence of the room, I glanced at the screen, curious about the unknown number flashing before me. Despite the uncertainty, a spark of interest pushed me to pick up, my voice steady as I greeted the caller in a professional tone.  "Blake."

A gasp echoed through the line, filled with surprise that sent a thrill of anticipation through me. "Oh, wow," came the whispered response, the voice tinged with a mix of wonder and amusement.

"Maile?" I cautiously guessed, the name slipping from my lips like a hopeful whisper as I dared to imagine the unexpected possibility.

"You're all business, huh?" she teased, a playful edge in her voice. "Never thought I'd get the full 'Dr. Blake treatment' from the SSA." There was a pause, broken only by the soft sound of her laughter drifting through the phone.

My heart skipped a beat at the sound, a rush of warmth flooding through me. 'Shit!' I thought, taken aback by how her laughter could affect me so deeply. It was like every interaction with Maile had this undeniable power over me. Why did her laughter, her teasing, feel so charming?

"Hey there, Alex," she greeted warmly, her voice like a familiar embrace, still carrying traces of her laughter like a lingering melody.

"How did you get my number?" I inquired, my curiosity piqued by the sudden call. "Not that it's not alright, of course. Just wondering."

Her explanation poured out in a rush, like a waterfall of words. "Well, Morgan gave me a card from someone named Penelope. So, I called her, then she said she'd come visit me tomorrow and bring cupcakes. Then she told me all about you and the team, and finally after about forty minutes gave me your phone number," she explained, her words tumbling out in a breathless flurry.

As she rambled on, I found myself drawn in by the rhythm of her voice, the way her words seemed to dance together. It was like listening to a familiar song, one that brought me comfort with every note.

"How are you feeling?" I inquired, my voice laced with genuine concern as I awaited her response.

In the brief pause that followed, I could hear the gentle clink of a spoon against the sides of a container, followed by Maile's muffled voice as she spoke with her mouth full. "Quite alright," she replied between bites of jello. "I do miss you."

A playful smile spread across my face as I teased her back. "Already?" I joked, feigning disbelief. "How did you manage all these years without me?"

There was a moment of silence, the weight of Maile's words hanging in the air. "Barely," she confessed, her voice carrying the weight of our time spent apart.

Her admission stirred a pang of regret within me, a painful reminder of the void that had shadowed our lives during our time apart. Why had I brought up such a tender subject? I berated myself inwardly, feeling the sting of remorse gnawing at my conscience.

Before I could dwell on my misstep, Maile swiftly shifted the mood, her voice brimming with cheerful energy as she guided the conversation towards lighter topics. "Anyway," she launched into a spirited monologue, her words offering a welcome break from the somber atmosphere. "I'm bored, and I figured you're still on the plane. So, what's new? How are you holding up? You're not upset about the whole sleeping kidnapping thing, are you?"

A soft chuckle escaped me, the warmth of fondness and affection infusing my laughter. "No, not at all," I reassured her, my voice carrying a sense of comfort despite the physical distance between us. "I've got about another hour on the flight. And yeah, I miss you too."

A grin crept onto my face as Maile's words resonated through the phone, her teasing tone offering a welcome break from the weight of our earlier discussion. "Good," she remarked, her voice light with amusement. "But don't miss me too hard. You've got bad guys... or bad gals, to catch."

I chuckled softly at her jest, imagining her playful expression. "Always watching my back," I remarked, a sense of appreciation coloring my words as I acknowledged her constant support.

Even though she couldn't see it, I shook my head with a smile, silently acknowledging her playful banter. In that moment, despite the physical distance, I felt an even stronger connection to her, our bond transcending the mere exchange of words over the phone.

As the faint knock echoed through the phone, my heart quickened, my senses sharp as I strained to discern who stood outside Maile's door.

"Who is it?" I asked, tension tight in my voice, waiting for her response.

But silence greeted me instead of an immediate answer, the absence of sound stretching out between us like an unspoken barrier.

"Maile?" I called again, worry clawing at me with each passing second of quiet.

"Sorry, Alex," her voice finally came, tinged with regret. "I've got to go."

And just like that, the call ended, leaving me unsettled. Staring at my phone's blank screen, a sense of unease settled over me, questions swirling like leaves in a gust of wind.

[casspurrjoybell-25]

The Healer of Shakkara - Book One

*Warning Adult Content*

Chapter 27 - Healer - Part 1

"Galen. Galen, wait," Sevhalim's call reached him from a distance but Galen knew he had only moments before he lost his chance.

Bursting into the room where Iksthanis lay, he dashed to the unconscious man's side.

Startled by the sudden commotion, Zenír leaped up from his chair.

"Galen? Is something wrong?" he asked, reaching for the polished wooden staff someone had given him to aid his movements.

"You could say that," Galen gasped as he pulled the sheets covering the injured man aside.

"What has happened?"

"There is no time. Listen, Zenír... if you want Iksthanis to live, then let me work and keep the others away as long as you can."

Zenír nodded slowly, his unfocused gaze troubled but determined.

"You have a good heart, Galen," he said. "I will trust it."

Taking up his staff, he went to the door and stood with the length of wood held lightly in his hand.

Though sightless, he was no invalid.

His staff was weapon as much as walking-aid... yet Galen doubted he'd be able to hold Sevhalim off for long.

Thus, he wasted no time and turned his attention to Iksthanis.

As Sevhalim himself had taught him to do, he let his focus sink deep while the rest of the world fell away, until there was nothing but the bright star burning at his core.

Opening his eyes, he looked upon Iksthanis.

The man's body appeared almost translucent, the brightness of his life flickering with the fragile light of a candle burning low, while areas of darkness showed where injuries lay.

Shadow shrouded one side of his chest, much of his abdomen, his left leg and a portion of his skull.

One glance told Galen it was too much... they had waited too long already and if he healed Iksthanis now, the effort would consume him.

If he could control it, though, perhaps he might ensure the other man's recovery while holding back enough to sustain himself as well.

It wasn't a perfect solution and he wasn't certain he could manage it but it beat the alternatives and he had to try.

Shouts and rapid footsteps told him he was out of time and he heard Zenír raise a brave challenge in the hall, answered by Sevhalim.

"Get out of the way, Zen," Sevhalim demanded.

"He isn't ready for this. I'm telling you..."

Shutting out the sounds, Galen concentrated on the power resting within him like a banked fire and stirred it to life with an indrawn breath.

Answering magic pulsed hot at his core and Iksthanis' need called to it like thirsty roots craving rain.

He breathed in again and the heat intensified, flowing down his arms to his hands and gathering there as if eager to be poured forth upon the injured man.

He felt a sense of fullness in his heart and in his whole body... like an irresistible urge to shout or move or run and the only way to satisfy it was to release the magic and pour forth into Iksthanis.

More shouts and a soft 'thud' in the hallway signaled Zenír's defeat and Sevhalim appeared in the doorway, wild-eyed and breathless and froze at whatever he saw on Galen's face.

"Galen," he gasped, reached towards him.

"Galen... wait. Please, trust me."

Oddly, Galen felt no sense of urgency at all and regarded him with calm dispassion.

"I'm sorry," he said. "But I don't."

Shutting his eyes, he let the magic go.

It seemed almost to delight in its release and Galen saw at once that his plan was no good... he had as much chance of controlling the flow of power as he did of damming a river with his hands.

It was all or nothing and so he gave himself over to the fire.

As if from a slight remove, he watched the power at his heart flare with the brightness of a star and when someone screamed, he realized, distantly, that it was himself.

His vision went white and although he felt nothing, he had the sense that every nerve in his body lit with agony.

Distantly, he saw himself... the pretty Pyrran boy named Galen, now a young man beautiful of form but beneath this fragile façade of flesh, he was something else entirely.

The magic within him... the fire that burned him... was not his own.

It belonged to Sakkara... world-mother and world-father, creator and destroyer, whose vast power lay at his fingertips.

He was as a lightning rod, he saw... a sacrificial offering through which immense power might pass from one medium to another, sparing the destruction of lesser forms... a living conduit whose life was the price of transference.

This, he understood even as all understanding fell away, was what it meant to be a P'Yrha.

And yet, even as he surrendered to pure immolation, a different sort of fire, cool and blue as water, embraced him, caught him in gentle arms and held him safe.

The blue fire rose around him like a protective cage and Galen felt the flow of magic slow and then equalize.

Peace and stillness filled him, as if he stood at the center of a vast, calm sea.

Opening his eyes, he saw Iksthanis's body glowed with the soft light of life and health, while his own form remained miraculously whole and unharmed.

Oddly, the glow of blue fire remained and then, as his senses returned to him in full, Galen understood.

The blue fire that had mingled with his own belonged to another and the arms that held him were real.

He just had time to understand this... that it was Sevhalim that held him and that he had used the power of the Hand to save him... before he fell into the waiting dark.