#Ghost was on the lookout for a bitch for his boy so this works out

[auspicioustidings]

You being an animal welfare campaigner and hearing rumours about a dog fighting ring so trying to go get proof to take to the police. There's a dog fighting ring alright, just not the kind of dogs you were thinking. And the "dog" with the mohawk has taken a real liking to you.

[ushioink]

(Part 1 of Careful,)

The world’s a little quiet today, or maybe she thinks this way because the AC is on full mode. Her earphones are pressed on her ears, and her fingers are running over the laptop keyboard in light speed. Everything she’s doing is an example of tranquility. She’s trapped in this sphere of solitude, and she loves it. The library is entirely empty, too, considering it’s early in the morning for torture. But whatever, she likes when things are clear and monotonous.

Of course, every good thing is bound to the burden of decomposition, and so her quiet is disturbed. At first, it’s just a body that’s hovering over her table. A large body. Enough to darken her desk and wide enough to block the cool air of the AC gushing over her. She’s intending to ignore it, but she’s not exactly good at that. So she takes off her earphone and pauses her monstrous clicking. She looks up, glare taking place over the dead shapes of her bitch face, ready to confront the person stripping her of her cocoon. Only, she doesn’t see a stranger.

It’s a man, and she’s not familiar with men - usually she’s just a virgin in all aspects of the opposite sex - but he’s not a face well forgotten. He’s one of the dudes that people whispered about in the hallways, and even her, an antisocial not-give-a-shit girl has heard about him. She’s a bit mortified about his sudden station over her table, but she forgets about her curiosity to resume her glaring. He winces a little because of her harsh glaring, especially when she pulls her earphones so she can hear the sound of her eyes going absolutely still in the dangerous motion. Besides him stands another man, a taller one, and he, too, sparks recognition in her well-organized mind. But she doesn’t give this other man attention; she only looks at the shorter guy.

“I have a proposition.” He says, trying to keep his voice steady. She’s a little - a lot - annoyed about his demanding tone, as if he’s used to dropping requests that take no for an answer. So, she scoffs.

“No.”

His eyes, which were narrowed down in a way to intimidate her (as if) widen a little, and he splutter. “You didn’t even hear what I have to say!”

“Don’t care, still no.” She returns back to her speedy typing, just to have something to do and to irritate the guy. God knows how well-versed she is in the effects of ignorance. She hopes he too, is immensely annoyed by it.

His narrowed eyes go a little wide, before he narrows them again. He looks down at the unoccupied chair across her chair, then at her, who’s still pretending to be immersed in her ridiculous writing, before pulling the chair out from under the table and plopping his pretty little butt over it. She doesn’t give him the attention he desires, not even when he releases a big sigh of relief. She keeps on clicking on her keyboard, completely unbothered. This makes him annoyed for some reason. No other female has ignored him like that when he graced them with his pretty, dark presence, and no other person has taken it so far to pretend he doesn’t exist, either. He’s damn well-aware of what he does to people, both genders, whatnot with his beautiful kohl-ridden eyes, his thin, pink lips that perfectly curl into a pout that’s deadly, and his killer body. What’s wrong with this woman? He actually came here by the stupid, stupid convincing tactics of his friend to beg for help, and he’s being swiped off like dirt? Ridiculous!

He curls a fist over his mouth like a fake posh man and clears his throat, making her look at him with her deadly, iridescent eyes. “What if I offered you ten thousand dollars for catching a mice trap in the Dark Dungeons?”

The Dark Dungeons is a place in the university’s library where everyone just pretends doesn’t exist for some reason - probably because of all the boring past researchers of the graduated students stacked there - and ultimately ended up being deserted. A lot of students are scared to venter there alone, recapping fake tales about pale ghosts and demons that are there to hunt them. She’s not afraid of such stupidity.

“Okay,” she shrugs casually, pausing in her rapid typing and closing her laptop. The student blinks at the quick gesture. “Pay it in cash?”

He’s dumbfounded; of course he is. He hadn’t anticipated his dumb proposition (which isn’t even real) to be met with such ease. He continues to blink, “But you just said no.”

She shrugs again, crossing her fingers over her laptop like a CEO waiting for a colleague’s destruction. The fist he’s holding against his mouth is put down on the desk. He wipes his expression clear of his flabbergast. She doesn’t allow him to say anything, though. “It depends on the proposition, really, and my capabilities in doing it. I can catch a mice trap in the presumptuous Dark Dungeons, and I will agree on it for ten thousand dollars. This is, knowing you, the only good offer you’ll be willing to give. I don’t want to hear the rest, because I know the rest, and I refuse the rest beforehand.”

“So you know who I am?” He sounds delightfully surprised. It’s the only thing he caught from her monologue, the fact she knows who he is despite only discovering about her recently.

She gives him a look as if he’s an idiot. Then, she returns to her work and opens the laptop. His cheeks flush at that look, still surprised that she’s not even remotely affected by him. He finally gives his companion, a tall guy who casually slipped on the seat beside him and practically occupying the entire space with his large body, a helpless look; and his friend merely shrugs disinterestedly.

“Hey,” he changes tactics by knocking on her desk with his knuckles, his eyebrows slightly growing narrowed as he frowns.

The man’s a little bit upturned by the mischievous twinkle that goes on like a bell on her eyes as she ignores him, a spark that would have gone unnoticed if he hadn’t been sitting close to her. But it’s strange nevertheless to see her, a woman so poised, a woman full of confidence and empathy, show such molecular emotion. Mind blowing

“Look at me. Hey!”

She looks up at him, the twinkle shifting into deep, rooted annoyance. “Yes? Is there anything of significance that you want to tell aside offering a proposition to a complete stranger?”

He’s dumbfounded yet again. “Is that a way to talk to someone? What a potty mouth you have! Do you use it to kiss people?”

She’s the one dumbfounded now, fooled at her own game of ignorance. “Excu.. excuse me! Potty mouth! Me? I’m a polite person, thank you very much. I’m just in tune with reciprocation at the moment.”

He sounds extremely frustrated when he says, “What the fuck does that even mean?”

The companion of the rotten boy clears his throat before she can retaliate, and she gives him her attention for the first time since he sat himself next to his friend. His face is long and droopy, lazy, and his eyes are squinted as if he’s trying to make sense of her tiny figure sitting across. When he speaks, his voice is husky. “Yah, don’t yell. We’re in a library.”

They glare at him, their eyes holding icicles. He huffs. “The last time I’ve been here, the librarian kicked me out for knocking one of his shelves. If he knows that I’m here again, which he will by your loud voices, I’m going to be staked. I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve seen a lot of vampire movies. Staking seems really hurtful.”

They shoot him disbelieved eyes. He puts a hand over his chest. “I have a sensitive heart. A wooden stake will make my delicate organ scar. That’s not good on my resumé.”

The first guy gapes at his friend, whereas she shakes her head in disappointment of being a part of this conversation. She goes back to her work while poking her tongue on the insides of her cheek, trying to restrain her growing fury.

“What?” The tall companion looks at his friend weirdly, “You haven’t seen the resumés I’ve seen online. They have applications out of this world. What if my beautifully intricate heart is required? Don’t want it marred!”

“Why the fuck would anyone ask for an image of your heart, Yeol? What job even requires the internal lookout of your organs?” His friend rebuts.

“How’d I know? I’m not logged in to alljobs.com!���

“Maybe you should, so you’ll be prepared to have a reasonable answer to your dumb shenanigans!”

“Will you both just shut up!” She snaps, smashing her laptop closed (again). They turn to her, blinking. “Why the fuck you’d even sit in front of a person you don’t know and have this conversation while they’re listening?”

They look scorned, cheeks going red. They regretfully look down at their laps, fiddling with their fingers.

“Now,” she exhales from her nose angrily, resembling a red-faced dragon (she doesn’t actually blush, but the running fury that’s gobbling her up leaves her face looking like a swollen tomato). “What the fuck do you want?”

The smaller man opens his mouth to say his demands once again, but she rudely raises an open palm up, squinting. “Speak gently. And slowly. And politely.”

He glares but complies. “I have something to ask of you, a proposition. Actually, you’re not a stranger, at least not as if now. I know who you are.”

She quirks a sharp eyebrow up, unrelentingly and very judgmentally. She’s not the type of person to be swayed over anything, definitely not over this man, too.

He rolls his eyes. “You’re one of the smartest students in our batch, and I kinda have been going through a lot with one of my assignments, so this idiot here told me to ask you for help.” He points to his companion, who salutes mockingly using two of his fingers. “It’s about the aftermath of war, and the effects it leaves on the intermingled classes of eighteenth century China. I’m very bad at writing shit. I confuse my statements; I fail at rearranging my paragraphs; I suck at choosing intellectual perspectives; and I most definitely can’t be on the neutral side to the point of sounding extremely radical. Would you help me write my research? It’s worth a bit of my marks considering I didn’t take the midterm for, ahem, certain reasons,” there’s a soft hue of red that glows in his cheeks, and feeling his blush, he scratches them with his long nails awkwardly.

“No.” The cute color doesn’t deter her at all, and she begins to collect her laptop and books to leave. Or, pretending to. She does not have any thought about leaving, not even when there’s a handsome stranger trying to invade her tranquil space. But, regardless of her wants, such gesture made the man nervous. He snaps his head up, eyes wide, and pushes himself to his feet quickly to stop her from leaving.

“Why not?” He begins to be angry. “Is this because you know who I am? Does my... Does our reputation precedes us?”

She gives him a cooly leveled look. “I only give favors to friends. You’re not a friend. Very simply. I couldn’t care less about your reputation, which does in fact precedes you. People tend to talk about things they don’t understand. The juiciest the gossip, the more people want to talk about it.” She pauses a little, confusedly staring at them. “Don’t you guys know that? When you wear these clothes, pierce all parts of your body, flash all of your tattoos, and walk around intimidating people, they will talk badly about you. Huh, I thought you guys are smart enough to discover this much about the nature of people.”

Whereas he looks startled out of his way with the sincerity in her words, It’s the companion who takes the time to speak. He asks her, his eyebrow raised. “Why’d you think we’re smart?”

She smirks at him, and he’s surprised that it’s actually playful, not malicious. “It’s only those that rebel the constant demands of society that have their heads teetered towards either intelligence, or insanity.” She slings her bag on her shoulder, her face going back to its previous expressionless slate. “Bye now.”

She doesn’t leave. She merely just stands and watches them watching her. It takes the two university boys a second to understand the implications behind her words, and when they do, they groan. They stand up, albeit slowly, and the shorter one dares to shoot her a grumpy, malicious glare, before walking away. The taller one simply tilts his head downwards in a respectable nod before following his friend.

Once they leave, she smiles, and the curl of her lips makes her face radiant, a whole lot flowery than the actual blanket of monochromatic nothingness that usually sticks on her all the time. She sits back down on her seat, opens her laptop, and begins to type again.

-

Oh the long road. Oh the long road. She sighs in her head, her legs heavy and unbalanced, almost sending her to the ground with how weak they feel. After almost six hours in university, with three classes and breaks in between, she’s finally done with all the nonsense that she, daily, has to face. Actually, university hasn’t been on her mind before in high school when she was in her senior year for this exact reason. She is too lazy for something overloaded like university. But, if she is being honest with herself, she doesn’t see herself in any place besides university, especially if she wants to have a ‘decent’ job. So, she tries to succumb to the voice compelling her to move forward, and ignoring the one that tells her to fuck everything and flop on the ground, dead.

A sound calling her name stops her in her long, angry strides, and she turns to the back to see her friend, Sami, waving for her, smiling so preciously that actual stars appear on her eyes. She’s not oblivious to the crowd gathering behind Sami, all males (and some females) staring at her with eyes twinkling with hearts. She reluctantly wave back, and Sami comes running towards her, beaming once she’s standing in front of her.

“You’re heading home?” Her friend asks.

She hums without a verbal consent. Her friend beams again.

“Great!” Sami loops their arms together. “Lets go together, and while we’re on the way, buy me a cocktail.”

“Alcohol this early? And why should I buy you one?” She raises an eyebrow up in ridicule, even though she already knows the answer to her rather dumb question.

Sami rolls her eyes. “No, an actual cocktail, with fruits and all. And you should buy me one because I’m your humble friend who asks nothing of you at all.”

“You ask for things all the time,” she narrows her eyes, and points at Sami’s earrings. “I bought you those earrings,” she points at her bag. “And I bought you this bag. And those shoes. I might as well buy you a house to live in if I’m already this much husband material.”

Sami grins, beaming, and her grip over her arm tightens. “It’d be so great if my future husband actually pays for all of my things. I’ll be a pretty, studious, working housewife that do things for him and accommodate all of his precious needs. Aw, I miss him already.”

“You should be careful not to say this in front of another woman that isn’t me.”

Sami blinks cluelessly. “Why? I didn’t say anything infuriating, did I?”

She pats her head sympathetically, her hand calloused despite the gentle, sardonic gesture. “Not at all. Not at all.”

They walk out of the university’s large grounds with Sami the one doing most of the talking, the bouncing, and the gleeful intervals; her grip tight around her arm, and her soft laughter surrounding them whole. She wouldn’t say that she was entirely comfortable about the concept of having a friend, but it has been two years now since she knew Sami, and she began to understand that in order to enjoy something beautiful, you have to watch it burn first, which’s why she, despite not liking it, disposed herself of her antisocial behavior, and stuck around with Sami.

Upon the huge gates of the university, she catches sight of the two students who had interrupted her morning study with their obnoxious presence. They’re standing in front, one of them - the tall one - is leaning against the large beige wall beside the gates, and the nuisance - the one requesting - is crouching on the floor right beside him, a fake cigar made of paper in between his fingers. They’re already staring at her, anticipating her exit. When her eyes meet the dark ones of the crouching guy, he smirks, his pink lips thin and inviting. He puts the fake paper in his mouth, pretending to inhale, and then pulls it off to exhale loudly, his eyes suddenly half lidded. He’s staring at her. She stares back, then she narrows her eyes, ticking her chin to the side in a silent request for him to look away. His smirk widens, and he doesn’t look away; his eyes invading her soul to the point she feels something scratch at the surface of her skin, begging to be released.

She scoffs. And almost as if he’s hearing her, he waggles his eyebrows teasingly. She blanches, disgusted, and her facial expression catches Sami’s attention.

“Who’re you looking at?” Sami turns to follow her friend’s eyes before she can look away, furrowing her eyes upon seeing the two boys. She turns to her friend curiously; nervously. “Do you... do you know them?”

She’s quick to shake her head, “Nah, I don’t know them outside the rumors that I heard circulating about them. I think one of their names starts with a B? Or an H? Anyhow, I don’t know who they are.”

“Why are they looking at you?”

She shrugs. “Beats me. Probably think I’m a visible, touchable time loop or something. That’d be cool. Have you ever seen Doctor Strange?”

Sami stares at her as if she’s an alien. “What on earth are you talking about?”

She shakes her head. “Never mind. Let’s quicken our pace. Maybe we’ll lose them in the crowd.”

As if hearing their words, the two boys jump to their feet (the one standing merely bouncing around) and they follow after them like two little creeps. They don’t say anything for a while, like announce their already large presence, and she ticks her head backwards with raised eyebrows, meeting their amused - yet frustrated - faces. She tilts her head, silently asking them about what the fuck they’re doing, and the shorter one of the two shrugs, the taller one smirking a little, the cigarette roll that was wrapped around the other’s mouth now in his. She looks away.

Sami notices her friend’s head going forward and backward, and turn around to give them a funny look, a little nervous for some reason. She looks back at her friend and pulls at her sleeve, a frozen smile on her face. “They’re following us.”

“If there’s an ice cube, large enough to have legs and is following me, and the world is so flabbergasted by it’s appearance, but you’re only concerned about taking your way home without interruptions. Would something happen if I gave it attention? No, you know why?“ she leans closer to Sami and with her big, wide eyes, she whispers. “Because it’ll melt away.”

Sami shakes her head in exasperation. Even after two years of being friends with her; she’s never getting used to her random thought processes. Either-way, Sami doesn’t feel entitled enough to say anything against that, and although she releases a little grumble from her chest in irritation at the skin contact, she doesn’t remove her arm away. Smiling, she leans her head on her shoulder.

“Yah. You can’t just pretend we don’t exist.” The shorter one says, or yells really.

His friend scoffs, and it’s strangely shudder-inducing because of his low grating voice. “We’ll follow you home if destiny calls.”

Sami lifts her head to peek at them, then quickly looks at her calm, astute friend. “Are you not going to answer?”

“A bird could constantly peck on my window and I wouldn’t shoo it away. I’m too lazy.”

Sami’s eyes mellow down, and her lips smile. “But that’s exactly what you do, sweetie. You can’t handle disturbances, especially when it affects your general surroundings.”

“You’re right. I’m going to kick their ass.” She stops in her gait, turns around, and glares; Sami stopping next to her. The two university boys pause in their strides, blinking.

“Question, exactly why was I chosen among the high grades receiving bastards in our class?” She raises her eyebrows up. “Is it because you think I’m easy? Or I’m a woman? Is it because you think I’m nice?” She says nice as if it’s a heinous word created for her personal offense.

The boys share a confused look. Then, the tall one clears his throat, readying himself for the paragraph he’s about to spout. “I’ve never once thought you’re easy, and neither have Baekhyun. We’ve seen the way you talked back to the teachers, and man, do you have a temper. I’m actually a bit shaky right now because I’m asking this favor of you. I’m not a misogynist, man. Why’d you make me something I’m not. love women. I love all wonen. Perhaps a little too much,” Baekhyun, the short guy beside him, is nodding his head sadly, “I’d have told Baekhyun to choose Dahyeon if I thought she was as responsible as you are. But the girl’s a klutz. She ruined a paper of mine once. Won’t let her do it again,” he then tilts his head, his confused face getting graver. “I’m sure as fuck you’re not kind, or nice. I wouldn’t have already been going through emotional trauma just by the thought of approaching you, yet, here we are.”

“Here we are.” Baekhyun spreads his arm with a surrendering look flashing on his handsome face.

Sami turns to her friend and analyzes the stone cold expression on her face. She hesitates, for a second, before she says. “They do have a point. You’ve traumatized half of the population in this university.”

“We still have two more years for you to traumatize the rest.” Baekhyun comments cheekily. When she shoots him a glare, he winks. She’s a little surprised. She hadn’t met anyone who winked at her deadly stare-offs. People are terrified of her, not amused of her.

“How many pages do you want your assignment to be? Mine’s going to be a minimum of eight, considering it’s only a meager homework, so I’ll try to shove your own pages between my breaks to save time.”

Their eyes go wide. Baekhyun actually gulps, unprepared for the challenge. “You write eight pages for an assignment worth ten marks?”

She raises her eyebrows. “You’re here begging for help for this stupid assignment, so I guess we’re both pulling up our shits, right?”

He shuts up.

It’s the tall one that answers. “Any page number is fine. Take your pick.”

She nods, “You’ll have five pages, then. I take breaks in between my classes. I have two-to-three classes for five days aside Saturdays and Tuesdays, so we’ll write two pages every week until its due date in three weeks’ time,” she takes her phone and shoves it in the chest of the short guy. “Give me your number so I text you the hours I’m free on. I don’t give a shit if our schedules overlap. When I tell you to come, you come, with your laptop and all of your writing necessities with you. One mistake and you’re out, get it?”

Baekhyun sweats, especially since her expression is deadly serious and her hand, which is still clutching her phone on his chest is cold, deadly so. He gulps anyway and nods. “Thank you, really. Appreciate it. Is there anything I can do for you to repay the favor?”

She smirks, and pulls her hand off of his chest after he accepts the phone. “A bad boy who knows how to say thank you? That’s a new one. And keep the favor until after you deliver your assignment. I’m not sure you’ll wanna give me any favors after I’m done with you. Say, are you willing to pay money?”

He pales. “I’m poor as fuck, ma’am, expected of a university student, right? Please say yes.”

She smirks again, amused of the panic in his eyes. “Relax, idiot. Just wanna check something.” She turns to the tall one. He’s staring right back at her, eyes wide and brown hair fluffy. For a bit, she’s taken aback by the actual fact of how gorgeous he is. Wide, almond eyes, soft hair, tall girth like a skyscraper, and she fucking loves skyscrapers, the taller, the better. He’s wearing a weird mesh of jeans, a t-shirt, and a jacket, but he’s also wearing a sweater on top. He must be sweating in there. His wide eyes turn a little confused when she merely gapes at him, and she notices. She clears her throat, and rolls her eyes so the spectators don’t notice she’s a weird bitch.

“What’s your name?” She asks coldly. There’s a strange warmth circulating her body, but of course, she ignores that.

“Sorry?” He splutters.

She lifts a sleek eyebrow up, holding herself from smirking widely. “Your name,” she points at Baekhyun, who’s blinking down at her phone like it’s a foreign industrial scam. “This moron’s Baekhyun. Kinda noticed you mention his name. What’s your name? I’m a bit curious to know about the chaperone’s name, considering they’re always so ignored and unappreciated in movies.”

He looks a bit flustered, as if he hasn’t noticed he has been a chaperone all this time. He wipes the slight vulnerability that flashed earlier, twirls the paper stick in his mouth, and gives her a mock salute. “Chanyeol, ma’am, but don’t bother memorizing it. We wouldn’t be seeing each other enough for the need of that.”

She doesn’t comment on his words even though she’s curious. She merely tells herself he’s as weird as she is, probably a little arrogant, but of course not as her. No one’s as arrogant as her. She sits on the throne of arrogance. Her parents once thought she had narcissistic syndrome, those assholes, but dismissed it later on when she gave them enough evidence she wasn’t. She pays attention to Baekhyun, coughing to alert him of the actual fact he has been taking too much time typing gibberish on her phone, and not his phone number. She swears to God he probably failed to reach her contacts. He looked like a dumb loser up close like that, but she didn’t want to judge him so severely. A guy who winks at her instead of shit his pants must be a dumbass, but again, she doesn’t want to judge.

Baekhyun looks up from her phone upon her cough, smirks his annoyingly attractive smirk, and juggle the phone towards her (after locking it, for some reason) she tries catching her phone, and thankfully she succeeds. She glares, about to scold him about the degrading act of her precious gadget, when he all but announces.

“We’ll go see our own way now. Thank you for such precious moment. Perhaps we’ll be able to create more while avoiding chopped heads, from your part, of course. May the grounds open up to present you with a fortunate gift,” he does a whole theatrics of bowing, while simultaneously taking a step back, bumping into an unamused Chanyeol. “Adios, my lady.”

He turns around to Chanyeol, who whispers something to him. They begin to walk away, and Baekhyun says something to the taller guy, in retaliation, which earns him an eye roll. Not taking this lightly, Baekhyun jumps - to reach the tall giant - so he can wrap his arm around his neck, and pulls him into a headlock. Chanyeol doesn’t fight. He lets himself be dragged like a deadweight doll, like he’s used to such abuse, and she shakes her head. Chanyeol seemed cool with his indifference, but perhaps he isn’t the one in total control here.

Sami calls her softly, and forgetting her only friend for a bit - the two boys have extremely large presence - she turns to her. She offers a small smile, showing a dimple to her left side, and Sami beams.

“I’m not even going to ask what the heck just happened,” she offers her a hand, Sami; and she looks at it weirdly. “Ready to go home?”

Sighing, she accepts the hand, and agrees to be dragged home. Sami looks down at their hands; and thinks a little, her brows going all intersected. She shrugs, cooly intertwining their fingers together. She doesn’t even blink at the gesture, having been used to it. Out of character, the only thing on her mind at the moment is those two, strange university men.

-

Author Note:

So?

We haven’t got anything grounded yet. We still have a lot to cover! The personality of ChanBaek is beautiful, stick to see our dumb yet gorgeous boys.

Also, if you haven’t noticed already, our OC is freaking DANGEROUS! Chanbaek are in for a ride!

[princessjungeun]

Behind The Mask: Yeji x Reader

This wasn’t requested by anyone but the trailer just- i have many ideas

Cw: Murder, blood, talk of drugs

Your head in your hands, you nervously paced around your bedroom. Never in your life have you messed up a job you were given, especially after you realized everyone who fucked up like you just did coincidentally went missing two hours later.

“Y/N calm down, you’re going to be fine. You’ve worked here since we were twelve. Never once have you messed up...so they can’t take it that bad right?” Your “brother” Felix tried to reassure you that you were going to be fine but in actuality he was just as worried as you were.

The worst part was that the job was simple, get the package, shoot the delivery kid, come home. However, you somehow managed to not only forget to get the package, you also didn’t shoot the delivery kid.

The empty warehouse downtown was like your second home honestly. You spent more time here rather than the actual house. Most of your jobs were assigned here as well.

Walking in you immediately saw familiar faces, some smoked, others drank, some talked, the occasional hookup happening in the corner.

“Hey babe.” A man walked up to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. You rolled your eyes, unwrapping his arm from you, “fuck off Kai...still not interested.” He smiled, running his thumb underneath your chin “your loss, you know where to find me when you change your mind pretty girl.”

Shuddering and letting out a light gag, you brushed off your shoulders, trying to rid yourself of his presence.

Finding the delivery point you waited around in a dark corner, mask on, hold up, gloves comfortably placed on your hands. From where you were you could see Felix in the back parking lot, leaning against his car cooly.

Keeping lookout was definitely a job Felix preferred instead of the actual dirty work. You watched your phone for his signal before making a move. Once he gave it you casually walked out to collect that package from the delivery kid.

Seeing your phone light up you read the message Felix send, indicating that the exchange was about to take place.

You waited for the other person to arrive, making sure your handgun was loaded, and the lock was off. In the low lit room you saw someone walk in, adorned in black jeans and an oversized sweatshirt, you could tell they were new at this. Hair flowing down their back their skin was the only thing light enough to see in the dim light.

“H-hello?” A somewhat deep voice, but feminine voice echoed throughout the room. You felt your heart sinking when you recognized the voice.

Heejin, your ex girlfriend.

Knowing Heejin won’t recognize your presence, you stepped forwards and asked “do you have what I need?” She nodded, pulling a thread at her sweater paws. Slipping out the small envelope she held you what you needed in her hands. You reached out for it and she drew her hand back, “give me what I need first.”

Without hesitation you pulled out your hand gun, pointing it at her. A look of fear washed over her face, her knees starting to shake beneath her. She held her hands up “please...please don’t. Whatever I’ll just go please!” Your finger slid over the trigger before hearing a weak cry slip past her lips “please...” The sound was all too familiar to you, as this was the same way you saw her, scared and confused when you broke up with her two years ago.

Seeing your hand freeze and start to tremble, she took this as a moment to dash out of sight. Springing as fast as her small legs could carry her, she ran away from you, the package you needed in hand. Chasing after her was pointless, she was already long gone.

You put your handgun away, and walked back to the car where Felix was waiting for you. Seeing that your hands were empty his face went pale. He himself had never not completed a job, however he knew some boys who did. They never returned to the house afterwards.

The drive home was silent, your hands trembled as you had to call your boss and tell them you hadn’t completed your job. Your stomach dropped when they ended the conversation with “I’ll see you at home.”

Felix and you took the longest way possible back to the house. He even went so far under the speed limit he almost got pulled over for it. But you both knew it was just best to stop stalling and rip off the bandage.

The second you got into the house Felix did his best to calm you down. But shortly after went to his boyfriend’s room, knowing that he was safe because he was only the driver.

You heard a loud knock at the door, heart pounding in your chest you opened it slowly. A tall thin boy with feline type features stood over you.

“Are you Y/N?”

You nodded and he grabbed your arm pulling you to the car. Shoving you in the backseat he simply said “you’re the one that has the boss all worked up huh?”

Swallowing thickly you responded “I-Yeah...I messed up.”

He looked at you in the rear view mirror, his eyes lingering for a second on your lips. Smirking slightly he responded “you’ll be fine...Yeji’ll like you.”

All you could think was “Who the hell is Yeji”

The drive felt like an eternity and by the time you reached the destination you didn’t know where you were at all.

The boy grabbed your arm and yanked you out of the car, putting an arm behind your back. Pushing you to walk, he left you from behind into the building. All the lights were off as he shoved you into a chair.

The cold metal against the back of your bare thighs you shifted uncomfortably. Your old gym shorts riding up as you moved in place. The boy tied your arms down at your sides with a rope.

The lights turned on and you heard was a voice, a female voice to be exact.

“So you’re the one who pussied out on a job?” Her tone was dull, emotionless, but that made it all the more terrifying.

“I asked you a question.” A thick silence fell over you two while she waited for an answer.

You responded “y-yes maam...”

She asked “why didn’t you finish the job?”

You replied “...it was my ex- i had to shoot my ex but i couldn’t.”

Her voice echoed through the room “hmmm...you loved her or something? Still emotionally attached to her? Do you still love her?”

Nervously you stuttered out “yeah- i mean just a little...I just didn’t expect to see her...I’m kind of scared...”

She chuckled lightly, “relax princess...i’m not gonna hurt you.”

As she spoke those few words you felt hands slide down your arms, her nails slightly scratching you.

Her lips by your ears she stated “well everyone makes mistakes pretty girl. I want you to pay in due time. Luckily i’m in a good mood. I’ll let you redeem yourself. Understand?”

You shook your head “not- um...not really no?”

She caressed the side of your face “you’re gonna be my bitch...untie her Hyunjin.”

Her voice was still blunt, no specific tone you could identify. However it still sent chills down your spine. The boy released your hands from the chair, forcing you to stand.

Pulling you along she spoke “Let’s go princess.”

Opening the passenger door she let you in first, as she walked around the front you got a good glimpse of her side profile.

She was beautiful, maybe even more. Her nose was sharp and pointed. Her jawline not extremely defined but it still added to her beauty.

Swinging open the door she got in, you watched as she slid one leg in after another. Noticing she had stilettos you wondered if she could drive with them on. But your thoughts were answered when she stepped on the gas, making you sink back into the seat.

Feeling a warm hand creep onto your thigh, you looked over at the girl. Her eyes glued to the road as she drove you both to who knows where. The cat shaped eyes slowly narrowed as she smirked, sliding her hand further up your exposed leg.

When you reached your destination you definitely didn’t know where you were. The gigantic mansion in front of you was something you’d only ever imagined in movies.

“Never seen a mansion before baby?” The girl asked, her hand holding onto yours. You shook your head no following her inside.

•

•

•

Laying in her gigantic California king bed, you faced her as she asked you a few questions. “So how’d a pretty little thing like you end up working for me hmm?” She brushed her finger underneath your chin gently.

Fumbling with your fingers underneath the covers you responded “I got kicked out when I was twelve...this woman told me she knew someone who could help me. I met some guy named Rain...he took me to this house. He told me I could live there if I did jobs here and there. I had nowhere to go so I agreed.”

Her features softened more than you’d seen that day. Eyes wandering everywhere but her face you picked at the skin on your thumb nervously.

Feeling a hand gently over yours, she asked “you have a question. What is it?”

Still looking down you responded “Well you’re so young...how- how am I working for you. How are we all working for you?”

Yeji simply stated “my dad ran this business. But I wanted it...so I killed him.”

Your eyes shot up to meet hers, she didn’t show any signs of remourse or regret from her actions. This slightly concerned you, how she could just talk so casually about something so horrible. However those worries disappeared when you felt her hand slipping behind your neck she pulled you just millimeters from her lips.

Her warm breath ghosted your lips “I always get what I want.”

She pressed her lips gently against yours, thumb grazing the back of your head.

As taken aback by her actions as you were, you didn’t stop her. This felt good...although you were terrified of this girl, you were still drawn to her.

•

•

•

Months passed and you were still Yeji’s....whatever she wanted to call you at this point. Sometimes it was “my girl” other times it was “just a friend”. However, the second you two got privacy you were the only thing that mattered to her.

Your coworkers so to speak we’re surprised at the two of you. Everyone who’s met Yeji is either a friend of her dad’s, or dead.

Since being “with” you, she was different to those around her. When she spoke it didn’t feel threatening. She smiled on very rare occasions, which never happened before.

Without a doubt at this point you loved her, and you could tell she felt something too.

•

•

•

“Baby....” She curled into your side, nuzzling her head into your neck. Holding her small frame flush against you, you hummed “mmmm?”

Yeji pulled away slightly, leaning up and kissing your lips gently. Looking into your eyes she told you “I love you princess.”

You smiled before kissing her again, this time more passionately.

She pushed you back down into the bed, slowly sliding over you finding her way on top. You slid a hand slowly along the small of her back and up, stopping at her waist.

Her hand found yours, interlocking your fingers as she pressed down more into the bed. A soft moan escaped your lips as she slipped her tongue into your mouth.

The two of you stayed like this for a while until you were both out of breath and tired.

After laying on your chest for a while, Yeji decided she wanted to sleep so she walked off into her large closet.

Talking to you from behind the door she asked “how did I get so lucky to meet you?”

You responded with a slight laugh “I should have fucked up a job sooner I guess.”

She asked “what was it you did again?”

Once again you replied “I couldn’t do it...it was my ex but I still loved her. I couldn’t kill someone I loved.”

Yeji walked from her closet, only in a long t shirt that stopped above her knees. “Love stopped you from doing it?”

Before you could respond she moved her hand from behind her back, “but it won’t stop me.”

Three shots fired hitting you straight in the head, killing you instantly. Your lifeless body bled out as she placed her pistol in her bedside drawer.

Stepping closer to you, her eyes narrowed, running her thumb along the top of your hand.

“I told you I wanted you to pay...And I always get what I want Princess.”

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Missin’ You is Terrible- Part 1: Missin’ You

Calum isn’t looking for deep feelings, just for some fun. But he’s pretty sure friends with benefits isn’t supposed to go like this. Black!Female Reader. 

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No one has my permission to repost this fic, including translations. All rights reserved. Copyright © be-ready-when-i-say-go.

_______________

I’m in your city. 

It is not his smoothest line. Even as he drafts the message, he wears a doopy ass grin, giggling to himself. He can imagine her eye roll, the purse of her lips, the tsk of her tongue sliding over the roof of her mouth and the back of her teeth. He watches the gray bubbles appear on his screen, the circles shifting from light gray to dark gray as he imagines her fingers tapping away at the screen. 

What’s that supposed to mean to me, Hood?

Calum scoffs. She likes giving him a hard time. I have a day off here too. 

You still haven’t answered my question.

She’s already starting. She’s going to make him say it, make him beg for it already. He’d normally hate this. He was normally direct. If he wanted sex, he’d say so. If he didn’t, he knew how to open his mouth. But she made this different. She made this fun. She’d play annoyed, unphased, but he knows that deep down her gut twisted just like his. He knows that no matter how many times she faked annoyance, she’d crack. Her giggle would escape her in tufts and she’d snort sometimes. But only sometimes. He can see the grin on her face, the way she’s tugging her lip between her teeth. 

Her teeth, fuck. He loves the feeling of her teeth grazing over his bottom lip. Even better than that though is the feeling of her teeth sinking into his flesh, his lip, tugging it a little. The mere thought leaves him nearly moaning in the dressing room. He taps away to reply, It means you should be at the show and pick me up tonight. 

Well lucky for you, a very nice man sent me tickets. I will be at the show. 

Calum stares at his screen. He waits. Is she going to confirm that she’ll pick him up? He asked her to the show, but didn’t really confirm if they would see each other. He wasn’t sure what her schedule would look like and didn’t want to be too demanding. He groans when nothing comes through for a solid minute or two. You’re an ass. 

But you like my ass. 

I do. I really fucking do. Calum bites down on his lips, inhaling deeply as the bubbles appear again. 

I’ll pick you up after the show. But you’re going to have to either get me access to the back of the venue or hike your cute ass to event parking. 

Calum pushes to his feet. He’d rather not be seen walking to her car. It’s nothing against her. He just knows the second fans catch an ounce of suspicious activity, they will run a mile with it. He’s always kept a low profile, no matter how hard it was. He presses the phone to his ear, reaching for his bag. He rips a page from his journal. She answers on the second ring. 

“What kind of car do you drive?” he asks. She rattles of the brand and make. Calum writes it down. “Plate number?”

“What’s this for? You know my car.”

“It’s for security, so they know I’m not walking to some fucking strangers car. They’ll probably escort me, but still they might ask or want need it to make sure who are who you say you are.”

“Just tell them it’s the hella attractive girl.”

Calum laughs. “Yeah because that narrows it down so well.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier if I got you from the hotel in the morning,” she offers. 

Calum shakes his head, walking to over to one of the bodyguards. “That’s too long.”

“You’ll be exhausted after your show.”

“I’m always exhausted, babycakes.”

She exhales hard, the phone crackle a little. He knows what that nickname does to her. “You’re in for it now,” she whispers. “You’re dead in the water, Hood.” The call ends. Calum’s not even shocked. He slides his phone back into his pocket, handing over the information he has. He describes her, maybe a little too in depth but the guard doesn’t say anything about it. 

They talk to the head coordinator and event staffing. It’s not until an hour or so after soundcheck that Calum gets confirmation that a someone will be on the lookout for her car and will escort him. He’d fight against this, but knows he’ll ultimately lose that battle. 

“You’ll be back to the hotel in time for the drive right?”

Calum nods. “Of course.”

Then with a bit of smirk and a wink, the guard adds, “Just don’t get into too much trouble.” The laugh bubbles up in his chest, spilling past his lips. Calum shakes his head at the antic. If he only knew how much trouble, Calum would be getting into. 

Calum’s not sitting on the couch, more like laying against it, though is butt is still technically in a sitting position, Michael giggling at him. He flips him off, teasingly. “Leave me alone, Clifford.” Then in responds slides in further from his barely upright position. 

“It’s your back you’re breaking,” Michael chuckles and then goes back to his phone. 

Calum’s phone vibrates against his stomach. He pushes back up to see the notification. New iMessage- A-1. It’s an inside joke. She’a A-1 and he’s Steak Sauce, though in her phone it’s spelt like S-O-S a joke off the band acronym. She was way too pleased with herself over the pun. Calum doesn’t have the heart to tell her how cheesy it is, so he lets himself forever reside in her contacts as SteakSOS and gets a chuckle every time he happens to see it. 

He slides to unlock the notification and a shaky breath leaves him. Fuck, fuck, of course. It shouldn’t even make him this hot and bothered, but what he did not think would happen is that he’d open that message to a video. It’s just a video of her hand, pulling up fishnet thigh highs. But her nails are shaped into a point and painted a pretty yellow against the warm red depths of her brown skin. He watches as she flexes, gripping at unclothed thigh before the video ends. He can feel the way the sharp point digging into his shoulders now. He can imagine that way her fingers feel dancing across his skin. 

He plays it again, there’s no sound--he’s thankful. Another message follows it. Did I spend two hours at a nail salon just to send you that? Yes I did. Did I spend another thirty minutes trying to fucking record one handed? Sure did, angel.

Angel. His heart nearly stops as he exhales shakily again at the nickname. “You alright?” Michael asks. His tone rings with amusement. When Calum meets his eye, he can see the smile decorating Michael’s face. He knows, Calum figures. It’s not like Calum’s exactly hidden this friendship, friends with benefits relationship, from the boys. But he tries not to make it so obvious. 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Calum says with a chuckle. It’s breathy and nowhere near convincing. But Michael doesn’t push it. He smiles with a nod. Whatever is happening, Michael knows Calum will be sporting marks come tomorrow. 

You’re not just trying to kill me. You’re trying to swallow me fucking hole huh? 

In more ways than one, she replies. 

Calum groans, throwing his head back into the cushions. “I hate her,” he laughs to himself. He sits there, reliving their last meeting. They were in his car, sitting at the edge of the beach, watching over into the water. Or more like the water was watching them fog up the windows. 

His brain wonders down all the random assortment of memories of them together. He lands on their first meeting. Calum started noticing her about a year and a half ago. She went to the same coffee shop that he frequented. She was always hunched over some stack of paper, always tapping away at her computer. He always wanted to ask her what she was doing. But he found himself afraid, always choosing to watch from afar as she typed away, as she scratched words onto the page. She looked endearing with three red pens stuck in her hair. 

Then one day, he caught her, head resting on her forearms. He didn’t want to disturb her, but he did notice some kids eyeing her things. So he went over and sat across from her while he waited for her drink. Make it seem like they were together. He didn’t have anything planned for the day. He just needed some coffee. He didn’t mean sitting there, just to make sure that her belongings didn’t get stolen. After about twenty minutes, he noticed her stirring, so he gathered his empty cup. Calum was sliding his phone back into his pocket when she spoke. “Well, I haven’t just woken up from a nap. I have died and gone to fucking heaven.”

He snapped his head at her, the heat flooding his cheeks. He couldn’t really blush, it never really showed up. But god, did his face feel warm. “I’m sorry. You were sleeping and some kids looked like they were planning something. I sat down to try to and deter them. They left, but then I was worried someone else would try and come up. So I figured I’d sit here until you woke up.”

“Thank you. You’re a literal angel.” 

They talked every all the time in the coffee shop. And then the coffee shop turned into bars. Bars turned into bedrooms. Bedrooms turned into the back of cars, the back of cars turned into her spending the night. Spending the night turned into baking at nearly two AM. Baking at nearly two AM turned into laying out in his backyard pondering the universe. Then she moved further up the Californian coast and out of the city to work for an independent publishing company; she’s happier there. Calum is glad for her. Just misses her two AM baking excursions. 

Now, they rarely get to see each other. Now it’s Calum texting her, I’m in your city as if he didn’t make that two hour drive anytime he wanted to see her. But it’s fun this way. Things feel more intense this way. They turn out all the stops. Which leads Calum here, eyes closed, grinning like an idiot, the ghost of her touch tickling his skin. He pops off the couch, heading to the bathroom, phone in hand. Payback’s a bitch, he hopes she knows that. 

He Facetimes her. No videos, no pictures. He has a strict rule against it. The call rings loudly, bouncing off the concrete walls. She picks up, only to see Calum’s tattooed hand rubbing over his crotch. He lets the sigh fall over his lips at the pressure. He’s needed this, he could feel tightness growing in his pants, the way his lower gut ached for release. He couldn’t give her that. But he could tease her; he could release some of the tension for his own benefit. A moan is building in him. He presses his lips together, refusing to crack just yet. But she knows. 

“Let me hear you, angel,” she commands. “If you’re going to sit there and be this much of a gotdamn tease, at least give me the satisfaction of hearing your sweet moans.”

Calum could. He could give her that. But he won’t. He ends the call, exhaling hard. His phone is about to explode with messages from her. One message comes in, he feels the phone shake in his hand. Then another comes in. Then another. A fourth. A fifth. A sixth one. Calum grins to himself, finally taking his hand away from his crotch and then running it through his hair. He’s in trouble now. 

It’s while the boys and he are eating a small dinner before the show that his phone buzzes again. It hasn’t buzzed in a while after her rant about him being “a motherfucking ass”. I’m at the venue. She describes where’s she’s parked, in a parking deck on the back side of the venue stating “if she were any higher up, she’d touch God and any further back she’d revert herself to the 1950’s��. Calum alerts a bodyguard who takes an event security guard to investigate where she is. 

That’s not very descriptive, you know, Calum replies. 

Another text comes in, about ten minutes later. Clearly it was, because I can spot two of your goons headed for my car. 

_________

Calum can’t spot her in the crowd. He tries, looking up the upper levels of the venue. But he can’t see anything clearly. He wishes he could but that’s not going to happen with lights. It’s when Luke gets a talking break that the flashing lights die down. But he can’t see through the haze. He takes out an inner ear, trying listen for her voice. But doesn’t catch anything. Then he gets to talk. “How are you guys doing tonight?” The crowd roars to life. He repeats the question. “I asked, how are you guys doing tonight!” he adds emphasis to the last word, shouting into the mic. 

Then he hears her, right as the crowd is starting to settle down. Just as clear as a bell, “I can’t scream any louder. I’m waiting for ‘Valentine’ to lose my shit.”

He laughs into the microphone, looking for her in the crowd again. He think he spots her, in a bright yellow shirt. “You’re going to be waiting a little bit then, ba-,” The nickname almost falls off his lips. He almost lets it slip through his lungs, but he catches it right on the edge of his tongue and swallows it back down. “But we’ll get there. I promise. Right now, we’re slowing it down. Is it okay to slow it down for second?” Calum jokes around a bit with the boys as Michael strums before launching into Amnesia.  

As they take their final bow, instruments still reverberating into the speakers, Calum looks out over the crowd for her one last time. He spots the yellow in the crowd again. But he can’t be sure it’s her. They exit the stage, the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. High fiving each other, still breathing hard after the show. He can’t wait to have her beneath his finger tips. Calum showers first. He knows he ought to eat something. But he’s not worried about that. He just needs her. He wonders to the bus, gathering the last of his things. He walks back with his traveler bag in his hand. 

Ashton whistles. “Uh huh, who are you going to see?” He can smell the cologne on Calum.

“Nobody, man. Nobody,” Calum returns, nothing sliding his phone into his pocket. 

“Nobody seems like a hell of a somebody

“Shut up,” Calum huffs, a chuckle falling from his lips as well. 

“Still a lot of foot traffic. Might as well eat, give it another half an hour or so,” the bodyguard warns. Calum wants to say fuck it, but figures if he does, he’ll be spotted. “We’ll go the second it dies down.”

Calum nods and manages to get through most of his second dinner. It’s as the first drop hits his stomach that realizes how fucking hungry he actually is. True to his word, the second the venue is cleared, Calum follows behind the guard. He can hear as the stage is torn down, people’s voices echoing. Outside near the buses, they cut across the back, jaywalk over the shockingly clear road. 

As they approach the top of the parking deck, Calum spots her figure in the shadows of the lamp posts. He grins, picking up his gait. He might as well run as the pace he’s half jogging. She pushes up from the hood of her car, starting towards him. Calum wraps her up in his arms, rocking the both of them side to side. She was in yellow. He buries his face into the crook of her neck, smiling against her skin, inhaling the faint scent of her hair products. Calum melts into her touch, the way she squeezes him, the hum of her effort falling over her lips. 

This is a goddamn home away from home, here in her arms, Calum thinks to himself. They release each other. Calum stares down at her, lips turned up into a smile. His hands slide down her side, stopping at her hips. Her nails drag over the veins in his hands. “It’s been too long,” he whispers. 

“Well Mr. Rockstar. My address is still the same.”

“I’m sorry.”

She grins, nails digging a little into the flesh of his hands. “You can make it up to me,” she states, pulling her hips from his grasp. Her boots make a soft clacking sound as she struts to her car, backwards. Her fingers slide over his. Calum hooks his middle finger around hers, so the contact isn’t lost. She readjusts the grip, hooking her pinky through his as they walk side by side. “You realize I nearly called you babycakes in front of the audience tonight right?” he asks, watch the light and shadows cross over her face. 

“I know.” 

“That would’ve been embarrassing.”

“For you, not for me.”

The inside of her car is warm, he notes. Very warm. She shrugs out of her jacket. “What were you cold or something?” he tease, poking at her thighs beneath the gaps in the fishnets. The black and white houndstooth pattern skirt looks flimsy. It’s all for the aesthetic, he figures, and he likes it. He just likes her, if he’s completely honest with himself. But he never is. Not in love anyway. He can’t afford to be completely honest. 

“I didn’t want to greet you with a cold car. And my legs are freezing. I didn’t think it’d get this cool.”

He rubs his palm over her inner thigh, after putting his seatbelt on. She doesn’t shudder, doesn’t moan. She just smiles, her cheeks lifting as her bottom lip falls victim to her teeth. Calum leaves his hand there, buried in the heat of her inner thighs meeting. She descends the parking structure. “Long way home or sit through traffic?” she asks stopped at the exit. 

“Long way,” he shrugs. He has nowhere to be right now of course. She squeezes his fingers with her thighs. 

Calum brushes his thumb over the skin, also brushing up against her thinly covered sex. She mashes her lips together, making a left turn. He can’t feel anything. He won’t push it now. He’ll wait. “What made you decide to wear yellow, huh?”

“Wanted to stand out.”

“I was looking for you, you know?”

“Bet my big mouth was the fastest way to look for me.”

He chuckles, “It was.” His thumb hooks into the side of her panties. Her gasp is audible, she grips tighter at the steering wheel. 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” she hisses softly. Calum doesn’t listen. He’s done with it. They’ve been driving for a few minutes now. He should’ve picked the traffic. At least she could’ve stopped. Not that going that way was completely risk free. Even though it would’ve been the tail end of it, they still could’ve gotten spotted together. 

Dragging his middle finger up, he groans at the slickness coating his finger. “You really did miss me.”

Her laugh strikes him odd. It’s sad, quiet. This is unlike her. But she doesn’t speak. Calum teases his finger at her entrance. Slowly, he lets the digit slip inside. She shifts, the softest sound leaving her parted lips. “Talk to me babycakes,” Calum urges, pushing his finger as deep as he can. He’s breathless at the feeling of her sitting on his digit.  She sits around his finger so well, pulling him deeper almost. He wishes it was his cock, but he’ll have to wait.

“I’d rather misbehave,” comes her response before she adds on, “Besides, you know it’s killing you. Have a taste.”

He already knows well enough what she taste like that slight saltiness. He can already taste it. He wonders if she remembers the way she tastes. Because if not he’s about to remind her. “Pull over,” he demands. 

“We’re on back roads. The shoulder is very narrow.”

“How much longer?” he asks, curling his finger. 

She hums, a chuckle falling over her throat. “Another ten, fifteen minutes if we don’t encounter any critters.”

Calum chuckles at the term. She might have left her home town, but her hometown has not left her. He decides not to risk it. “Can you handle this? Can you just still on my fingers?”

“Finger,” she corrects just like he knew she would. Calum pulls the one finger out before pushing a second one alongside it. Expelling all of the air in her lungs, she does her best not to make a sound. It’s not the first time he’s had his fingers deep in her while driving. Besides she has more important things to focus on like this fucking road. If she could spare the glance to Calum to throw daggers at him with her glare she would. 

But she keeps her eyes on the road, his fingers deep in her aching core. He must love this, she thinks. Loves her wrapped around his fingers, whether it’s her tongue or her heat, it doesn’t really matter. As long as she is somehow wrapped around his finger, he is in heaven. She tightens her pelvic muscles, squeezing around his digits. Calum groans, head falling into the headrest. His stomach jumps. 

“Do it again, please,” he breathes, rolling his head to look at her. She glances over. His face is a tad pink. He’s flushed already. She tightens around his fingers again. He is putty in her hands though his hands are the only that are milking her with his lazy curling inside. 

It’s the longest five more minutes to pull into the driveway of her house. It was left to her in her grandmother’s will. Also another reason why she moved. The house isn’t much, one story but with a lot of space. The engine cuts off and Calum is leaning over the console, fingers still buried in her. His mouth brushes over hers. He doesn’t have the words, the breathe to speak his next thought. But it’s like she knows as her mouth seals over his. She pushes all the right buttons as her teeth sink into his bottom on. Calum hisses, pushing his fingers particularly hard into her. Her legs fall even farther apart. 

Her nails dig into the muscles of his shoulders as they kiss. The points of pain are like small fires in his skin. Calum trails the tip of his tongue up her lips as he pulls away from the mess of lips, bites, teeth, and tongue. She pulls his fingers out of her, bringing his hand to her mouth. Through her lashes, she watches his face. Calum’s gaze is trained on the way his fingers glisten before the lights in the car go out. 

He laughs, a huff of a chuckle. It’s silenced as she sucks his digits into her mouth. Calum’s mouth falls open, a moan falling from his throat. She runs her tongue between his fingers, cleaning every inch of them. He wants to kiss her. But he doesn’t want her to stop sucking on his fingers. Calum leans in, pulling his fingers from inside her mouth, but leaves them resting against her pouty lips. 

“I wasn’t done,” she sighs. 

He doesn’t respond, instead he kisses her, the tips of his own fingers brushing against his lips too. It’s nice for a moment and then she brings one digit back into her mouth, leaving Calum’s lips hovering over hers yet again. This is ridiculous. He wants to kiss her, just wants to feel her supple lips against his again. Who gives fuck if his own finger is in the way? Calum kisses her, over his own knuckle as her tongue massages the pad of his finger. 

Calum’s not even sure when they made it inside her house. His senses too full of her, her scent, the way her skin feels, her moans, her groans, her sighs, the way his name sounds from her lips. He drops his bag in front of the her couch. “Thirsty?” she asks, toying out of her shoes. 

Calum unzips his boots, watching her hips as she walks to her kitchen. His socks are a little slippery against the tile she has down, but he manages to catch up to her, taking her hips into his hand and pulling her back into his chest. She grinds down into his crotch, feeling the bulge. Sliding them down to the hem of her skirt, he pushes it up until the band of her panties are exposed. “The only thing I need is you,” he whispers, yanking at the flimsy material. She shudders, but steps out of them. 

Calum steps away, hooking his pinky through hers. “Fix yourself. And c’mon.”

It takes  a few seconds for her to get the skirt back down her legs, but she follows behind Calum as he wanders down the main hallway.  As they enter her bedroom, she slides in behind Calum, wrapping her arms around his waist. Her fingers trail up underneath the sweatshirt. It should tickle, but Calum tenses for different. Her fingers trace the line of his pants and underwear until she pops the button. Her movements are slow but precise. 

She pulls the material up. Calum helps her pull it up and over his head. She tugs at the t-shirt too. “I’ll be underdressed,” Calum laughs. 

“Take it off, please?” She presses kisses through the cotton of the shirt. Calum pulls it up, tossing it to the heap with his sweatshirt. 

Her nails run down his back ad Calum shudders. The pain will be coming next and the anticipation is killing him. He needs it. He needs it like he needs her to suck on his fingers again; he needs it like he needs to kiss her. He needs the pain just like he needs her, to be beneath above, beside her. It does not matter. Her touch is light, the pads of her fingers just barely touching. Then her nails are digging into his lower back. He grunts, fingers curling into fists. She doesn’t let up either. 

With a growl, he spins around and pushes her into the wall. She collide with the wall with a particular loud thud. Calum cups the back of her head. “You okay?”

She nods. “But you’re not going to be,” she grin, hand running up his stomach and chest. 

“What does that mean?”

Her fingers dance across his lips and Calum opens his mouth. Her eyes twinkle. He knows what order is next. Two of her fingers slip over his tongue. “Suck,” she whispers, staring into his warm brown eyes. They’re hidden a little behind a cloud of tiredness, but a thick layer of lust. His moan shakes against her fingers, but he hollows his cheek, pulling his head back a little. The tip of his tongue tickles against webbing of her hands, but he loves it. He loves the weight of her fingers on his tongue. He the slight string as she runs the tops of her nails over the rough of his mouth. 

Calum grabs onto her wrist, holding her still, so he can run his tongue over each one of her digits. With her free hand, she reaches into his pants, grasping his length. Calum’s jaw falls slack at the grasps. He forgets all about her fingers in his mouth, placing his hands on the wall on either side of her head. She runs her hands down to his pants and pushes them down. Kneeling she tugs the pants down and helps him step out of them. “I am severely underdressed,” Calum pants. 

He reaches a hand down and tangles his fingers into her hair, pulling her gaze up to his. “Strip, leave the fishnets.”

Still on her knees, she buttons the blouse, letting the material fall down her arms. She sit on her but, pushing her hips up with her core and heels. The material slides down over her calves. She sits propped up against the wall, legs spread open for Calum. Her core is soaked, leaking, creating a shine to her skin. Calum groans, dropping to his knees between her legs. He goes to lean in when she stops him with a foot to his chest. Calum runs his fingers up her skin. She plays at the necklaces hanging from his chest with her toe. 

“Please don’t toy with me,” he begs, squeezing her thigh. “Please, babycakes.”

She drops her foot. Calum scoots back, pulling her into his lap. Her lips find his immediately. One and tangled in the hair at the back of her neck, Calum drifts his fingers to her clit. She shudders at the first contact, moving to his earlobe and biting down. “Fuck,” he whispers at the slight twinge of pain. 

“I wanna ride you,” she whispers, kissing down his neck. 

“Of course, babycakes. Just come around my fingers once. You know how much I love it.”

With a nod, she pushes off his lap. “I can do that, anytime, angel.” Pushing to his knees, Calum grabs her thighs and nudges her against the wall. Using his fingers he pulls back her labia and licks a stripe up her, sucking on her cit. “Goddamn,” she sighs. Calum inserts two fingers into her, pumping and curling at the inside of her. He needs her to unravel around his fingers. He needs to feel that squeeze one last time. He hasn’t felt that in so long. She moans from above him when he starts to kitten lick the bundle of nerves. 

Nails scratching at his scalp, Calum moans against her mound as she tightens her grip. Her legs tremble. He presses her harder into the wall, curls faster, hits deeper inside her. “Fuck. Calum.” Her voice is strained. The muscle in her legs starts jumping, legs bouncing. Calum grins. This is it. This is it. She comes around him, a grunt falling over her lips. “Cal--” she chokes on her own breathe. 

She contracts and releases around his finger. Calum groans, slowly his lapping. But leaves his fingers buried deep in her heat. When he pulls his fingers out, she sags, sliding down the wall. Fuck, she can’t breathe. God. She feels like she’s floating. It shouldn’t take thing long to come back down. Calum strokes her cheek with his clean hand, kissing across her face. If it doesn’t work, he’ll find a way to do a cold compress. “Come back to me, babycakes. Deep breathe.”

Her eyes slowly blink back open. Calum grins. “There you are.”

She laughs. “Unfortunately.”

“I need some help.”

Inhaling deeply, she lets her close drift close before opening them and exhaling. “What’s up, angel?” 

Calum taps his fingers coated in her arousal against her lips. “Can you help me clean these?” 

She opens her mouth, resting her tongue flat against his fingers. Calum bends down, licking off the otherside. Together they clean his fingers, tongue brushing every so often. Calum pulls his hand away. She captures his lip between her teeth again, pullling hard. He groans. “Can I ride you now?”

“I would say you you don’t have to ask twice, but you just did.”

He’s always like this. Always still sassy. “Just get the fuck on the bed.”

Calum stands first, helping her up. “You sure you can handle it.”

Playfully slapping his ass, she laughs. “I’m sure I can.” He acts like he hates this, sending a glare to her over his shoulder. But Calum loves this, loves that they can still be playful in sex. Opening her bedside drawer, he pulls out a condom. Her birth control is right on top of the nightstand. She’s still taking it. When he turns around, she’s sitting on the edge of the bed. She’s just watching him. Her gaze makes his gut flip again. What is she looking at? 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he chuckles, tearing opening the package. 

“You said no to pictures. Lay back,” she comments, patting the mattress. Calum rolls the latex on and reclines into her plush pillows. 

“Tell me,” he starts, watching her crawling up the length of body, pausing to kissing his thighs. “What were thinking about in the ride over here? When I asked--” the question stops on his tongue as her lips near his crotch. “When I asked if you missed me?”

“I’ll explain later, okay?” she whispers, lips ghosting over his cock. Calum goes to speak again until her nails dig into his hips. He moans. She continues to kiss up his body. She kisses and sucks a hickey onto his each collarbone. 

“Please, God, please,” he whines. That’s all she needs before sinking down onto his length. “Fuck,” Calum swears, grabbing onto her hips. She grinds her hips against his, holding herself up by pressing her hands onto his chest. 

“Tell me, angel, how’s the view?” she grins. 

Calum reaches up for one of her breast, rolling the brown bud between his fingers. “It’s like heaven,” he pants. Calum wants more, but he knows to wait this out. His body feels like it’s on fire, but it’s a fire that continues to get stronger. Moving his fingers from her breast to her clit, he tries to help build her to faster to her second orgasm. The moment he touches her nerve, she snatches the hand away. 

All movement is paused. “You want to fuck me huh? Is that what you want to do?”

“I want you to feel good. I--I want to make love to you.”

The phrase leaves her speechless. This hasn’t been about love. Or at least not on the surface, not with a label. It’s been a physical connection for sure. But the mental one has also been under the surface. Always felt, never talked about. Calum sees the shock on her face and takes this moment to get the upper hand. He hugs her close, before rolling them over. Her beneath him, still buried in her velvet heat. 

“Can I?” he asks. 

She nods. “Yes-yes.”

Calum kisses her, open mouthed before pulling out and slowly thrusting back inside her. She releases a small sigh in his ear as he thrusts inside. That’s a new sound. He thrusts slowly back into her. She releases it again. “Shit, you make the most beautiful sounds,” he whispers. He can’t get deep like this. So he pauses and places a pillow under her hips, brushing her knees to her chest. 

She grips the sheets as Calum re enters her. “God, fuck.” She can feel him everywhere. Not just inside her, his body is pressed firmly against her. She can feel his chest against his, his breath ghosting over her skin as his face is buried her into neck. His hips roll at just the right angle that he brushes over her cit. 

With very little warning, she cums beneath him, muscles tensing. Calum lifts his head to watch her face. The way her eyes screw up shut, the o she makes with her lips, the way her back arches off the bed. He loves this. He loves watching this. If he could record it, he would. To watch it over and over and over. Calum’s own orgams washes over him. He gives a final two thrusts before spilling over into the condom. 

They stay meshed together, the metal brushing over her brown skin. He loves the way it looks. God, how he could stay here forever. But he can’t. “Can I kiss you?” she asks, not sheepish, but concerned, but hesitant, unsure. 

“Of course.”

This kiss isn’t a clash of teeth, tongue or biting. It’s slow, and sensual. Almost loving. They part, Calum slowly pulling out of her. She pulls him alongside her into the bathroom. They clean themselves up, use the restroom. She leans up against the counter as Calum washes his hands. “I didn’t answer you when you asked if I miss you because I don’t just miss sex with you. I miss having you around.”

Calum pauses, hands still resting under the warm water. “I miss you too,” he whispers. 

She shakes her head. “Not the same way.” She shouldn’t have been vulnerable with him. He can’t do it. It’s not his fault, fully. It’s the road, it’s the constant travel. It’s the always being away. It’s the past too. It’s the people before, it’s the cruelty of being of being so invasive, it’s this life as a person of color. It’s not all his fault, but some of it was, like the shutting people out, bottling up. 

Calum quickly dries his hands, before following into the bedroom. She starts picking up her clothes and his. Calum stands bare at the threshold. “I know how you like your tea. 2 parts honey, one part sugar. You prefer black fruity teas. You despise coffee. But drink it because it’s the only thing that keeps you up for deadlines. You edit in coffee shops, but like writing in your backyard best. You prefer early morning to late nights. You like tequila over vodka which I’ll never understand. You hate twisting your hair, but like the way the curls look in the morning. You do pineapples when you’re lazy. You still can’t perfect the slicked down ponytail, but you still try. You’ve thought about doing a blow out but are too scared it’ll ruin your curl pattern again. You prefer shea butter moisturizers. You shop black owned every chance you get. You hate the fashion world, but still like designer shoes. 

“You’ll shop a sale every chance you get. You donate half your closet twice a year to the domestic abuse shelter in honor of the women in your family. You volunteer at hospitals during Christmas because you like walking in as Storm and having the other black kids staring up at you in awe. You wished you cosplayed more. You play the piano well for someone that’s never learned a scale. Your voice is so fucking soulful and if I could get you to sing on one our songs, I think I’d die in the studio before you ever opened your mouth. I miss you too. I am listening. You’re one of the first people I want to tell good news too. You’re the first person I think of when I see a cute dog. I miss not being to talk in my backyard.”

“Then why the hell didn’t you say anything.”

“I didn’t know how. I hate being so far away from you. I like this--being normal. I wish I didn’t have to miss you. But I’d rather miss you than not have you at all.”

[blackmissfrizzle]

Unveiled

Summary: They boys find out about the reader’s true lineage. Based on episodes 2x21 & 22

Characters: Dean Winchester x black!reader

A/N: So, I’m basically doing a series rewrite of my favorite episodes. This is is based on the the reader’s and Dean’s relationship through the years. Its based on A Match Made in Hell Series.  I’m not doing this in a linear order, but I’ll make a separate masterlist for this series and put the fics in order

One minute you were in a diner with Sam, grabbing Dean a pie and the next you and Sam were in some ghost town with the other psychics like Sam. Most of them were freaking out and getting on your nerves. One even died because of her stupidity. She tried leaving and a demon killed her for it. Now you were stuck with Ava, the girl who had similar powers to Sam and been missing for weeks; Jake, the super strong dude; and Andy, the pothead who could control people with his mind.  

Finally, you were able to find a house and set up camp there. To make it easier, you and Sam decided to switch off on keeping watch. So, while he and Jake were on the lookout, you took a little nap.

“Wake up, sleepy head.” You heard. Opening your eyes, you saw yellow eyes staring back at you. Immediately, you called for Sam, but when he didn’t come running to help.

“This is a dream, isn’t it?” You asked. Your dad would do this all the time with you. He knew if he talked to you in person you would attack him, so visiting you in your dreams was the safest option.

Yellow Eyes or Azazel as you knew him outstretched his hand to help you get up, but you slap it instead and got up on your own. “Oh, look at Ms. Independent.”

“What do you want Azazel?”

“Uncle Azazel,” he corrected you.

“I’m not calling you that.” You brushed past him, going outside for some much-needed air.

Azazel followed you outside mumbling about how disrespectful this new generation is. “How’s our boy, Sammy doing?”

Giving him the evil eye, you replied, “Fine, despite being kidnapped!”

“Kidnapped? Sweetheart, this is a competition!”

“For what?”

Yellow Eyes turned to dramatically and waved some jazz hands. “For the best and brightest soldier!” He continued to tell you that he just needed one of these psychic kids to lead his demon army not multiple like you and the boys thought. And to top it off, he was rooting for Sam. The demon went as far as killing sweet Jessica because Sam was getting soft.

“Okay, only the strongest win. You know if I really wanted to, I could kill all of them, so what am I doing here?” To you it made no sense for you to be there. Sam and the others may have demon blood in them, but you were half-demon and much more powerful.

“My sweet girl, you’re not here to compete. You’ll work with the winner. That’s why I’m going for Sam. You two are a well-oiled machine. Both of you have the brains and the brawn.” In the middle of cussing him out, Sam woke you up, telling you that Ava was missing.

Eventually, her screams alerted you and you and Sam found a dead Andy, but something wasn’t right. Why did Ava go out of the house? Why was the salt line by the window broken?

Ava tried her white woman tears, but they weren’t working on you and Sam. Soon, as she stopped the fake crying, she admitted everything. She wasn’t missing for 5 months; she was here the whole time killing others. What a fucking psycho!

Jake snapped her neck just as she was conjuring a demon to kill you and Sam. But now he was tripping as well. Azazel got to him and told him only one of them could get out and for some strange reason, he believed he was the one.

“Listen dumbass, Yellow Eyes is not to be trusted. Come with me and Sam, and all three of us can kill him!” Behind you Sam put his knife on the ground as a sign of good faith and never in your life had you wanted to slap Sam silly before this. In your gut, you knew you couldn’t trust Jake and here goes Sam being all kind-hearted. “Sam, don’t,” you cautioned him.

“Its all good, Y/N/N. Look,” he pointed to a Jake putting down his own weapon. But as fast as he put down the weapon was as fast as he knocked you and Sam across the yard. Damn, that nigga really was strong.

Luckily, for Sam he wasn’t as hurt as you and was able to fight off Jake. You on the other hand got a piece of the broken fence piercing your side.

The fight didn’t sound like it was going too well. Bones were cracking and they weren’t Sam’s. You got up in time to see Sam standing over a knocked out Jake. He had the crowbar in his hand, ready to deliver a fatal blow, but he decided to let him live.

Sam walked to you and let you lean on him even though he was injured as well. “You good, Y/N.”

You lifted your shirt to show him your wound. “It’ll be a bitch to pull out the splinters and I’ll probably need stiches, but other than that I should be good.”

“Sam!!! Y/N!!!!” Dean’s voice called out to you. Sam and you traded looks, and hobbled towards the sound of Dean’s voice.

There he was with Bobby. Both looked ragged, but happy to see you and Sam. “Dean,” Sam said with a sigh of relief.

“Sam, Y/N, look out!” Dean warned, but it was too late. Jake stabbed Sam in the back and by the sound of it, it was fatal.

Surprisingly, Jake didn’t try to fight you. He threw you over shoulder and ran, and in your state and his super strength you couldn’t fight him off.

The last thing you saw was Bobby running after you and behind him your dead best friend being held by his heartbroken brother.

—

My eyes never left the colt since Azazel gave it to Jake. The very moment he said it could kill him, you had to restrain yourself because Azazel threatened to kill Jake’s family. Even if you hated him, you couldn’t endanger his family.

The whole walk to the middle of cemetery was Jake practicing his powers, which he was picking up incredibly fast. Ava was right the learning curve is insane.

Clicking of guns caught your attention when you and Jake reached the crypt. Finally, the cavalry was here.

“Sam,” you questioned. It was impossible for him to be alive…unless Dean did the unthinkable. One look at him and you knew he made a crossroads deal. Fucking idiot! This family doesn’t know when to stop sacrificing themselves for each other.

Being too focused on Sam’s resurrection left you unaware of the conversation going on around you. Jake was prattling on about how Ava was right, but you couldn’t focus once again because your eyes caught the crypt.

Almost instantly you knew what it was. A damn gate to hell and the colt was the key. Luck wasn’t on your side, but when was it ever? Jake forced Ellen to put the gun to the side of your head while he ran to unlock the gate.

“Forget about me! He’s opening a damn hellgate!” Dean and Bobby wrestled the gun out of Ellen’s hands while Sam went after Jake.

Sam was able to kill Jake, but not before the gate opened. Though with Jake dead, you, Bobby, Ellen, and Sam were able to close it.

—

*Dean’s POV*

He’s here and so is the colt. I may be going to hell but imma take that yellow-eyed some of bitch with me.

“I got to thank you. You see, demons can’t resurrect people unless a deal is made. I know- red tape, it’ll make you nuts. Right, Y/N/N?” With a snap of his fingers, Y/N was beside him.

Thing is she didn’t look even one bit afraid and seemed too familiar with the demon. “Thanks to you Dean, I got the perfect pair.”

“What in the hell are you talking about?” I yelled at him. He put his dirty hands on Y/N, who was begging him ‘please don’t.’

“Sweetie, you didn’t tell him?” He asked her, almost as if he cared. “Well, Dean-o, thanks to you I couldn’t have done it without your self-loathing, self-destructive desire to sacrifice yourself for your family! But I also, many years ago I have to thank the beautiful conception of a lovely human woman and one of the best damn demons to make this beauty.” His hands framed a Y/N’s face.

The tears on her face confirmed it was true. “You lying bitch!” I couldn’t believe I trusted her.

My thoughts on how Y/N betrayed us overcame and I didn’t notice that Yellow-Eyes was about to kill me, but Y/N stopped him. He slammed her to the ground, before he could incapacitate her further, a soul from hell grabbed him. Not just any soul, dad.

Dad gave me the jump I needed. Yellow-Eyes was distracted enough for me to put a bullet in him. It was finally over; we got the demon that ruined our family. Now I just gotta deal with one more demon bitch.

—

*Reader’s POV*

You were fucked. Dean had to have told Sam the truth about you. You slipped away while they reveled in killing the monster that took away their family.

“Where you going, bitch?” The rage in Dean’s voice made no effort to hide.

“Dean,” Sam tried to reprimand him. He knew in his hearts of hearts that you had a good explanation. Yeah, it hurt that kept a secret and lied, but none of your behavior ever hinted to you being a danger to the brothers.

Lifting your hands in surrender, you turned around to face the boys. “I know you’re pissed, but this is the last time that I will allow you to call me a bitch.” Dean could be mad all he wanted to, but you refused to be disrespected. Especially, when he didn’t know the whole story.

Sam made an effort to get closer to you, but Dean pulled him back, as if you were a danger to him. “Y/N/N, why? Why lie to us?”

“Doesn’t matter why. She still lied.” You tried pleading to Dean with your eyes, but it wasn’t working. His anger blinding him from listening to you. “The only reason, I’m giving you a head start is because you tried to warn us about the gate and helped with Yellow-Eyes. You got to the count of 3 and if you’re still here I’m putting a bullet through you.”

Dean didn’t give empty threats, but you tested him anyway. Standing there firmly until he pulled the trigger of his gun on 3. In the nick of time, you teleported back home before the bullet could pierce you.

In the comfort of your solitude, you broke down and cried, letting a crowd of emotions run through. In a day, you found your best friend alive only for your other friend to make a deal; the hellgate opened releasing a slew of demons; Azazel revealed your secret and died; and probably the most heartbreaking you lost your best friends.

Tags:  @titty-teetee @cocooned-butterfly @nervouspetsonanime @thefaithfulwriter @meishaabae @dannixchristian @blacknthemix @mml232

[yakumtsaki]

I taste just like ice cream, bitch I am so icy, heart cold like an ice queen, that's why they don't like me 🎵

-What the hell was that.

Traditionally I start Union updates with semi-relevant song lyrics.

-Why did you start an update at all.

Because it’s time, Shajar! I took a holy oath in my 2020 simming goals post to update Unions once a month, and I’m already a month late.

-But nothing interesting is happening. 

That’s never stopped me before. Now listen to Rico Nasty, cry some more about Sophie blowing you off, and shut up.

-Ugh please, I couldn’t be more over Sonia if I tried. I hardly ever texted her links to wedding pinterest boards and quizzes to determine if our parenting styles are compatible. 

Did she ever reply? 

-She did once and said ‘who dis’. Of course the letters unscrambled spell out ‘do wish’, meaning she did wish me to keep messaging her. I just don’t know where it all went wrong. 

-Hey there, 17 year old girl, maybe you’ve had enough neat whiskey for the night? We’re actually running out of bottles. 

-Beat it, ponytail, I need to dull my pain. I’ve just been stabbed right in the gut by the love of my life. Just like my style idol and general role model, space opera fascist Kylo Ren.

Shaj I really hate seeing you like this, and not just because the red neon light is super unflattering on your complexion.

-You can fuck right off too, I was perfectly happy with my dads who hate me and my imbecile sister and my brother who might as well not exist, noogie-ing people all day AND night long, but you had to be all ‘OMG IT’S SOPHIE MIGUEL SHAJAR GO TALK TO HER’. Life-ruining-moron. 

But I was totally right about you two hitting it off, I mean look how sad you are now that she dumped- yea never mind, that’s not a good argument.

-Look what I can do even though I’ve had 46 whiskeys!! How you like me now, Sophie???

-You’re paying for all these broken glasses, I’m going to need your name and a credit card.

-Yes, fair enough, my name is Cyneswith Union-

-I LOOK GOOD ENOUGH TO EAT

Yea, you really should eat something to soak up all the alcohol. And not to kick you when you’re down, but you should also disregard all those cliches about ~a smile being the most beautiful thing you can wear~ because MAN. Watch out Joaquin, there’s a new Joker on the prowl. 

-So.. 20 lobsters thermidor and our most expensive appetizers?

-Aha.

-Would you mind settling your bill now?

-Of course not! My name is Cyneswith Union and this is the credit card my parents got me when I was 6 because we’re super duper best friends! I love my parents! They don’t care about their other daughter at all, even when their other daughter is going through a really hard time because she got the emotional equivalent of a lightsaber wound in the gut. You know what, let me also get 20 bottles of your most overpriced champagne to go with the lobsters.

Feeling better?

-Well it’s hard to feel bad when you’re spending your parents’ money recklessly and with malice aforethought.

It sure is. Alright well, the sun is coming up, maybe we should head home.

-What’s the rush? What is going to happen if I don’t go home, my parents will get worried? LOL

God your life sucks. Ok let’s hit a couple more places.

-Greetings. Welcome to our establishment. I am a human employee from this planet.

Great, nice to meet you.

-I just want there to be no doubt that I am indeed an earthling, born and raised under the earth’s exosphere and not above it.

Leave us alone.

-And I’m the resident community lot sim with that one face template you hate! There must be one of us on every lot you visit!

-And I am here in my revealing outfit to use the dance sphere and make everyone uncomfortable!

You’re actually pretty, I need to keep you in mind for after Don Oates takes a wrecking ball to our genetics, but yea, let’s bounce, Shajar.

Time to visit the happiest place on earth, Deh'Javu Modern Art Museum, home to my favorite piece of art in any medium, The Toilet of Fire. Shove that Fountain up your ass, Duchamp. How we feeling, Shaj?

-This trash can reminds of Sophie :( She used to go around town throwing money she stole from charities in trash cans and then send them riddles for where to find them :(

Enough with Sophie, we’ll find you someone better! Like..

..your aunt! Get the hell out of here Brit Brit, you’re taking up townie space. 

-I won’t be long, Gunther’s amazing close-up portrait of my hair was rejected by the museum so I’m here to set this shithole on fire. 

In other words Gunther just painted a canvas black and called it a day?

-His art doesn’t cater to plebs. Yes, offense.

Our old friend Ugly Teen Townie is here so finally we can have some fun. Shajar had gone almost 12 hours(!) without noogieing someone and I was starting to worry for her health.

-Yes, yes, I’m starting to feel like myself again..

Good for you, Shaj!

-Hope you’ve made peace with your God, Ugly Teen Townie, this water balloon is filled with horse feces! 

-WHERE DID YOU EVEN GET HORSE SHIT

-I ordered it from some guy named Leod McGreggor.

-How about a another joke, MuRRAY?

-What?!

-Now you say, ‘no, I think we’ve had enough of your jokes’. Say it!

-No, I think we’ve had enough of your jokes.

-What do you get when you cross a mentally-ill loner with a society that abandons him and treats him like trash? Now you say ‘call the police, Gene!’

-Call the police, Gene!

-I'll tell you what you get..

-YOU GET WHAT YOU FUCKING DESERVE. HAHA oh man! Good stuff. 

Alright I’m starting to feel bad for Ugly Teen Townie, first he had to come to all the toddler birthday parties during the Victoria/Komei era and now this, he has suffered enough at this family’s hands. Time to go home, Shaj.

-Not so fast!

Wow, the Countess and Mrs. Crumplebottom on the same lot, top 10 anime crossovers.

-I have been sent here by the Limp Dick Vamps United organization to recruit Shajar Union.

Ugh you people are still around? Haven’t heard of you losers since the Count wouldn’t let Victoria bang him, which I’m still annoyed about. 

-Indeed we are, and it’s clear Shajar is ready to join us, dedicating her life to evil deeds without romantic distractions. I have no idea what Crumplebottom is doing here.

-I’m here to recruit Shajar to my own organization, Bitter Sims Worldwide Alliance. We’re always on the lookout for new members who want to spread their misery to their fellow Sim. 

It sounds like it’d be more effective if you guys just merged your organizations.

-I will NEVER merge my organization with someone who displays her bosom like a common whore. 

-Eat a dick, Crumplebottom!

-MAKE ME, FANGTOOTH

-Alright here I am, what the fuck do you want?

-Shajar, it is a pleasure to meet you! Ardent admirer of your work.

-What work, freakshow?

-Torturing everyone around you, what else!

-What? I don’t torture people around me, if anything they torture me.

-Why don’t you talk to me about it?

-I’d rather not, you look like a bejeweled snowman.

-Look deep into my eyes, Shajar..

-And now look deep into my razor sharp teeth..

-Ugh fine, let’s talk. 

-Is that Victoria and Komei’s teen granddaughter hanging out with a vampire?

Yes it is Kennedy, keep it moving.

-God, wtf is wrong with this family. 

Nothing now that you’ve been removed from our social circle, go away! Just kidding, you’re an icon and I’m marrying you in at some point. 

-Hard pass. 

Your loss, hombre. 

-It definitely isn’t.

-If I had known your turn on was vampires I would had set you two up!

STOP SETTING UP TEENS WITH ADULTS, LAKSHMI. And Shajar’s turn ons isn’t vampires, it’s fitness/fatness. Body positive queen. 

-Well, Shajar, you alphabetically listing all the people who have wronged you while I was trying to kill Crumplebottom telepathically has made for a very productive conversation. We’ll be in touch. 

-Thanks, Countess, it’s been real.

Shajar!!! Who cares about Sophie when you might bag a hot, rich vamp??

-Meh.

I’m gonna need you to be more excited about this prospect because a vampire spouse might just be enough of a draw to beat the comedic factor of fucking Don Oates turning us into an unintentional uglacy and I’m doing whatever I can to avoid my fate.

Ugh.

UGH

UGHHHHHHH

LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOO VICTORIA

-GET FUCKED, BROKEN FACED WEIRDO

God I miss you Vic 💔

-Donnie-bear, not to be not-nice, but mopping your pee off my front lawn is not exactly what I pictured doing during this date.

This guy won’t even mop up his own piss, what a catch.

Wow, manipulative much?? You are a piss piece of work, Donaldo.

-Don’t think we forgot about you, you 10-nice-point disgrace!

-VICTOR NO

-GET THAT MOP READY

-Finally, some peace and quiet.. Just me, alone with my broken heart, pondering my hopeless, loveless future..

-💗💗💗OMG SIS THERE YOU ARE. DONNIE AND I MADE OUT!!! 💗💗💗 But then grandma’s ghost scared him into soiling himself. 

-Good for grandma, hopefully next time she gives him a stroke. Now shut up and let’s eat in silence while I ponder my hopeless, loveless future.

-Okie dokie! 💗💗💗

-Um, I think mine has vomit in it.

-Yea I did that, but it’s just whiskey and lobster, if anything it increased in value. 

-Awww thanks sis! 💗💗💗

-Stop patronizing me, you little bitch. God I want to poke your eye out with this chopstick so badly.

-I love you too Shaj! 💗💗💗

And I hate both of you. Where’s your brother, I haven’t paid attention to him in 3 days. 

-He went upstairs, I think he’s pusshurt we forgot his birthday LOL

IT’S HIS BIRTHDAY????

-Don’t feel bad, I forgot it too! 💗💗💗

GODDAMMIT. WULF! WULF WHERE ARE YOU

-I’m here, I just grew up and dare I say it could not have gone better! 

Really?? Finally some good news! Let me look upon you-

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

AHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA

WULF WHAT THE FUCK

-I was Mozart musical genius boy but now I’m a sk8ter boi! Character development!

Ok this is the most iconic birthday look since Gunther grew up in the pirate costume, we’re obviously keeping it. 

-Great! And as if the fact I’m a Wyatt face template with 0 Jojo genes wasn’t enough to make me unelectable, I also rolled family! :D I’m doing everything I can to ensure I live that sweet motherlode spare life! 

Honestly you should had picked another outfit cause now that you’re dressed like this I unironically want you to win. Hoisted with your own petard.

[in-tua-deep]

Ok so imagine that instead of running away as a kid, Five stays. However when Ben is supposed to die, it's Five instead and so Ben lives but Five's now a ghost and only Klaus can see him. What do you think would be the reason Five ends up dying, and how do you think the others would react?

OOF you just come into my house?? and hit me with that?? absolutely illegal

So Five stays. Five stays and they’re what, fifteen? They go on a mission, and one of them doesn’t come home.

It was supposed to be Ben. It wasn’t.

Five can jump through space, can warp into position, he’s frightening adept at it since he abandoned time travel and focused entirely on improving everything else he could about himself. He’s very very good at his job, and he’s the only one that notices something is about to happen

Maybe Ben has lost control of his powers, and Five is the only one to notice. Five sees Ben tearing himself apart and realizes that he’s the only one who can get close enough to knock Ben out, so he jumps and he manages but he’s not quite fast enough and Ben is out and the tentacles are retreating but not before one can grab him and hurl him into the wall with a sharp crack and then - darkness.

Maybe it’s not Ben’s powers at all. Maybe it’s a bank robber they didn’t account for, one who is frightened and has a gun and who has seen these terrible frightening children murder their fellows and they have a spouse and children and they don’t want to die here over money so they pull up their gun and they take the shot (at Ben, at the biggest danger) and Five sees them from the corner of his eye and without even thinking about it he - jumps. In front of Ben. He takes the bullet because Ben is the best of them, is the kindest of them, and he doesn’t have a single consideration for his own life only for Ben’s.

Maybe it’s something different, but no matter what it is the facts remain the same: Five sees a danger, Five is the only one who can reach his brother in time, Five acts without even thinking, Five dies

Five pops up again, gasping and realizing very quickly that he’s dead. He’s incorporeal, he’s standing at the scene of his own murder, people pass through him when he tries to get attention. But it’s established in the show that they can use their powers as ghosts so Five does what he does best: he jumps. He goes home. He realizes that one of his siblings can see ghosts, and he finds Klaus.

And Five isn’t Ben. He isn’t soft, he’s always been hard angles and sharp words - so when Klaus hesitates to tell the others about Five, Five offers proof. Various pieces of blackmail he’s gathered on the others over the years just in case, things that Klaus would never know. He bugs Klaus into calling a family meeting without Reginald and makes Klaus translate his comments because he’ll be fucking damned if Ben blames himself for Five’s choices. That’s not allowed to happen.

“But Klaus, I thought you couldn’t see ghosts when high?” One of them ask, because they aren’t blind and they know Klaus does drugs to deal with his powers.

“I mean, it’s Five.” Klaus says despondently, looking at where Five is waving his hand through Luther’s head with a fascinated stare, “If anyone could decide to defy all the rules it’s fucking him.” and they accept that because of course they would

and because this is me and i make the rules in my aus I say that this brings them closer together as a whole because Five isn’t Ben, he isn’t content just interacting with Klaus. He doesn’t stick to Klaus’s side by glue, he’s floating through the halls of the manor and then pops up in Klaus’s room like “Hey bitch go to Vanya’s room she’s sad and I want to give her the book on music theory that’s under my bed so up an’ at ‘em you get to me my legs”

“what if i don’t want to?” Klaus asks, only once

“then you get to hear the dulcet tones of me singing the song that’ll get on your nerves until you do” Five threatens, with a look that says it is NOT an empty threat so Klaus hops to

Five pushes at the boundaries of what he can do as a ghost. Ben can pick up books in the show, right? Five pick up books and throws them. He shakes cabinets when he’s angry. He’s basically a weak poltergeist with a very limited ability to interact with his surrounding - maybe he can only interact with objects he had a connection with in life? But in the mansion there are plenty objects he has enough of a connection with to manipulate SO the whole family gets to deal with shit being thrown at them by an irritable Five

Five debates haunting the shit out of Reggie but Klaus begs him not to, because then their dad would just make Klaus try control Five or blame him for it, so Five deals with just making sarcastic comments whenever Reginald is talking and also petty shit like,, giving him bunny ears or sticking his limbs through Reginald’s chest or hell even just gently breakdancing while Reggie is lecturing and Klaus has to really fucking try to not bust out laughing which is its own issues

Klaus gets special training in the mausoleum, and Five gets to go with. Five doesn’t know how to help with this, and maybe in another world Ben curls up next to Klaus and tries to softly comfort him but that’s never been Five’s style. He yells. He’s gonna be the SCARIEST FUCKING GHOST FIRST OF ALL HOW DARE THESE GHOSTLY LOSERS TRY AND FREAK OUT HIS BROTHER. Five is gonna find out whether a ghost can kill another ghost by being a a rabid chihuahua at these ghosts. He’s going to sing backstreet boys songs at the top of his fucking lungs to drown out these weirdos and make Klaus laugh. Maybe he jumps out of the room and jumps back with a flashlight or a book or something else in the manor that he can interact with, to keep Klaus entertained

Five has always had the attitude of being proactive about these things

Five goes on missions with them, Luther makes a dumb fucking plan and gets shivers down his spine and is immediately like “Klaus tell Five to stop sticking his limbs in my body” “Five says he will when you stop having little bitch ass plans” “I’m pretty sure he didn’t say that” “Actually that was a direct quote and also he’s flipping you off right now”

They get older. Klaus gets taller. Diego’s voice drops. Luther packs on more muscle. Five stays the same.

He’s dead, of course he wouldn’t grow. 

That doesn’t stop him from yeeting books off the shelves in a tantrum when he realizes that he’s doomed to be the shortest of the siblings except for Vanya for all eternity. 

(”Klaus what the fuck is wrong with Five now?” Diego asks. It’s the middle of the night. Books are flying off the shelves. Klaus is so tired, so very tired. “Five has realized that he is dead.” “…Yes?” “Dead people do not grow.” “Just say it Klaus.” “Five has realized he’s not going to get taller and is permanently fifteen and is angry about this.” “…alright well good luck with that, I guess.”)

They’re on a mission. They’re on a mission and Five is the ultimate lookout because he isn’t stopped by little things like walls or people seeing him or whatever. Five sees something about to happen, and he yells and something happens and Klaus’s hands are blue and Five zips through space and reaches his sibling (let’s say Diego why not) and he pulls even though he knows he’ll go right through but the guy is right there and he can’t watch his brother die and - 

Five does not go through Diego. Five pulls Diego to the side and the blow that should have killed him misses, and Diego lives, and Five touched him.

(Five is the scariest ghost around, and the other ghosts haven’t been bothering Klaus - so he’d been weaning himself off of the drugs for a while now, Five often needed him to do things that were difficult to do when drugged out of his mind and Klaus figured it was an even trade for Five scaring off the other ghosts so - he’s sober)

Diego has a knife, and he killed the guy, but his eyes are locked with Five’s the entire time because he can see Five. 

the whole family is shocked, even when Klaus gasps and the blue from his hands vanishes and so does Five to everyone but him. they look at each other and just stare. 

“tell luther if he tells dad i’m going to flood his bathroom again” five says, just a little hysterically. “what the FUCK klaus” says the rest of the family

they get home, and somehow Reginald finds out and he has a whole speech about Number Four’s potential and shit and the fact that he can summon Number Five and how perhaps it wasn’t as much of a loss as he thought if Five was still around as a ghost and later they all gather in one of the rooms which has become a commonplace occurrence when Five wants a family meeting and he’s always been willing to pull the ‘dead’ card

(before they gather, Klaus and Five sit in Klaus’s room practicing making Five corporeal and the first thing he does is hurl himself into Klaus’s arms and hug him. Because he’s still 15, he hasn’t touched anyone else since he died and his inability to touch his siblings hurt no matter how many times he poked fun of it by walking through them)

so they have a meeting, and blue glows across Klaus’s hands and Five is visible and the first thing Five says to his family in years is - “Me and Klaus are leaving, who’s coming with?”

Because they’re almost eighteen now, close enough to leave and not have it look too suspicious. And maybe Five didn’t run this plan by Klaus first because Klaus is shocked but Five doesn’t even blink because - Dad knows. Dad is going to want to train Klaus further and experiment with his powers and if that fucking mausoleum is any indication then Reggie has no idea how Klaus’s powers work or how to train them without hurting Klaus. And also Five has spent years now being technically out from under his dad’s thumb, there’s no way he’s sliding back under it

maybe luther protests, but Five is just like “Look, if Dad makes Klaus make me corporeal in his vicinity i’m going to snap his neck simple as that. I’m a vengeful ass ghost, okay? What’re you gonna do about it? Kill me twice?”

and they’re closer than in the original timeline. Five has floated through the halls and seen every instance of them being sad and made Klaus intervene - everyone in this room has had Klaus pull them close and hug them or listen to their problems or give them company or provide them with random books that Five probably picked out - and and and they all care for each other and know each other more than before. And Five includes Vanya, so she’s always there and Five WILL pull the dead card to keep her there because he wants her there and - 

they all agree. Diego is instantly in, he was planning on ditching as soon as he turned 18 anyway. Ben is in, because he’s close with Klaus and with Five. Vanya hesitantly pledges her support, because she’s so tired of Reginald calling her ordinary. Allison shrugs and says she’s in because it’s not like she wasn’t also planning on leaving when she was old enough, okay? Luther is shocked they’re all willing to ditch so easily but… at the same time… Five and Klaus have, over the years, opened his eyes to more than one glaring issue with their father so… tentatively he’s like “okay, i guess someone has to be the leader”

and they gather what they can, and they leave, they leave reginald a note which basically lets him know they’re leaving willingly and not to look for them or anything since they’re almost 18 anyway etc etc. and they go out into the world

they get jobs! they support each other! and maybe the shitty apartments that are all they can afford are too small for 8 people to share, but at least rent goes 7 ways (and it’s not like Five eats or anything) and they can shove blankets and pillows on the floor in front of their shitty TV and eat their shitty pizza and laugh as they watch all the movies they were never allowed back home

Luther gets a job as a mechanic, because he’s always been good at things like that. He remembers wanting to be an astronaut as a kid. He remembers studying rocket ships with wide eyes and putting together model planes and he’s good with his hands and strong and he’s surprisingly good at it. His boss definitely knows Luther is a runaway but has a soft spot for him and is full of gruff advice and gentle praise that Luther flourishes under.

Diego decides to try for the academy with the support of his siblings behind him, and he doesn’t drop out. He meets Eudora and the others all tease him about it. There has been at least one occasion that Five followed him to the academy without Diego’s know how and then told Klaus all about Diego’s awkward flirting

Allison gets into the theater scene and tries out for parts that she gets without even rumoring anyone. Because at the end of the day, she’s good - she’s a good actor. She ends up getting some small parts in movies as well, and the others proudly go see her in theaters and have any movie with her as even a background character in a place of pride on their shelves.

Klaus isn’t ambitious like the rest of the siblings, but he ends up working in a yarn shop run by several old ladies who he’s pretty sure adopted him the moment he said about not having parents in the interview. They teach him know to knit and let him do it between customers at the register. Five likes to run around the yarn shop and try bat balls of yarn off the counters like an asshole cat in between suggesting patterns and critiquing Klaus’s yarn choices. Eventually, Klaus sets up Five with his own set of knitting needles and the old ladies look at the needles clacking and apparently knitting by themselves and Klaus ends up telling them about his dead 15 yr old brother because I mean. He’s from the Umbrella Academy it’s not exactly like he’s an unknown with his powers, and that means that the old ladies absolutely fuss over this child ghost and help him with his technique

(that year, all of his siblings receive knitted socks and hats and scarves from Five on their shared birthday and Five is so pleased to be able to contribute something to the family again, even if they’re all still at a loss of what to give their ghostly brother)

Ben ends up going to college and going on to medical school because he deserves it and he gets scholarships to help out but all of the siblings chip in to put the siblings who want to through school, and Ben gets a part time job as a barista or something between his demanding classes but at the end of the day he wants to help people (he doesn’t want to be useless, like he was the day that Five died, wants to be able to save lives instead of just taking them - because the Horror doesn’t define who he is, and it never has)

Vanya goes to school as well!! She’s a violin prodigy! and they leave without telling their dad beforehand so she goes to get her pills refilled only to find out that they don’t have these pills actually what the fuck are they I’m assuming they’re special and Reginald supplied them somehow idk, and it’s not like the family can afford medication in THIS economy anyway so maybe she just stops taking them and hopes she can handle her anxiety without

and that’s how they find out Vanya has powers oops

OH you know what Vanya absolutely trains her powers with Five and Klaus making him corporeal because, as Five so eloquently puts it when they drive into the countryside, “What’s she gonna do? Kill me twice? as if” and that’s how Vanya learns how to control her powers and she still gets to go to school and she gets to join the orchestra and be first chair because fuck it she’s a goddamn prodigy and passionate about her craft and i love her, she deserved the world

they all grow and they change and they stick together as well as they can with all their varying schedules. they grow, except for Five who is still fifteen years old and who managed to save his family at the cost of his own life. 

But it’s okay. He hands Luther wrenches at his work and freaks out the other mechanics. He talks to ghosts for Diego so that Klaus doesn’t have to (because Klaus has always has a weaker stomach for blood and things than Five, and Five is dead he can see ghosts too that��s a thing). He haunts Allison’s sets until she puts her hands on her hips and scolds him about messing with her co-workers. He knits in Klaus’s shops and shows off socks and scarves to little old ladies with a pride he isn’t sure what to do with. He helps Ben study by holding up flashcards even if he isn’t visible. He goes to all of Vanya’s rehearsals and prods at the harps and pianos with curious ghostly fingers. 

He’s a constant presence in their lives, and they love him. And he loves them.

Five doesn’t leave. Ben lives. Five dies. Everything changes, but the one thing that will never change is that they are a family. No matter what, they have each other - in life and in death.

[inagetawaycarxo]

Not As It Seems | Finn Balor {Apocalypse AU}

✧ Pairings: Finn Balor x Reader, Rhys {OC} x Reader, Finn Balor x Unnamed OC {mostly I just refer to her as Finn’s girlfriend}

✧ Featuring: OC’s a lot of unnamed OC’s

✧ Summary: you save Finn from a zombie attack.

✧ WARNINGS: fluff, angst, blood, death, zombies, zombie-related themes, swearing, idk, other things I failed to mention, Finn crying, the reader is kind of a cold stone bitch tbh, so is Rhys, gore, reader might be a Winchester, stealing stuff, everyone is pretty much an asshole in this fic, I don’t even know what this is lol.

✧ Word Count: 5.5k

✧ A/N: This fic is for @moxleysbaby Alternative Universe Writing Challenge, honestly this is the first time I have done a writing challenge on Tumblr. Hope you like it. Also, y/n/n= your nickname.

The sound of the car tyres on the gravel road came to a complete stop. The engine cut off, three doors opening, three people hopping out of the car, then closing the doors.

The guy let out a grunt of annoyance, clearly not happy about being out in an abandoned town on the weekend.

“Come on babe, it will be fun.” A feminine voice spoke, grabbing his hand and intertwining their fingers together, as they walked into the abandoned town, looking at the buildings, while their friend took pictures of all the buildings.

“Yeah, Finn, it will be fun.” Another female voice spoke, looking up from her camera to look at him, Finn poked his tongue out at her, making her do the same action.

“Cause, visiting an abandoned town, on a Saturday afternoon was totally on my to-do list.” The guy called Finn grumbled, as they walked further into the town, their friend continued to take photos of the abandoned buildings.

“I could be doing other things on a Saturday afternoon.” Finn whined, his gaze drifting to his girlfriend, she turned her head to look at him, making Finn send her a wink, which made her blush, she then let out a giggle, clutching his hand tighter, while swinging their hands back and forth. Their friend that was ahead of them let out an annoyed sigh, while she rolled her eyes.

“Ew.” She whined, turning around to see the couple staring at each other. They both let out a chuckle at their friends’ reaction. She turned her head back in front of her, rolling her eyes once more as Finn and his girlfriend continued to stare at each other.

Finn leaned his head down towards her, pressing a tender kiss on her cheek, which made her giggle. Finn smiled at her as he pulled away, gripping her hand tighter, he pulled it up to his mouth, pressing a soft tender kiss on the back of her hand, which made her heart swell.

“While you two are being all lovey-dovey I’m going to go explore this apartment.” Their friend spoke, turning back to look at them, then looking at the apartment.

Just as she was about to enter the apartment her friend spoke, making her stop halfway through the doorway, turning around to face them.

“Wait, we’ll come with you.” her friend spoke, making Finn let out an annoyed huff.

“As long as I don’t have to witness you’s two making out with each other or finding a room and getting it on.” She spoke, making her friends chuckle.

“Don’t be so dramatic, we aren’t going to ditch you to get it on, we are just going to explore the apartment with you.” Her friend spoke, while Finn frowned, he really didn’t want to explore any of the buildings here, he just wanted to go home.

“Good, let’s go.” She responded, walking into the apartment entrance.

Finn and his girlfriend followed their friend, walking into the apartment entrance holding each other’s hands. The apartment smelled musty, the wallpaper on the wall peeling off.

The three of them walked up the stairs until they reached the first floor, all the doors to the rooms where all opened, some items where scattered on the ground.

“Looks like they all left in a hurry.” Finn spoke.

“I wonder what happened to this town.” Finn’s girlfriend spoke, as she let go of Finn's hand, wondering further down the hallway slowly looking into the rooms as she walked past the open doors, looking into the unoccupied rooms in amazement. Which made Finn pout at the loss of contact.

“Maybe, the town had to be evacuated, they ran out of resources, nuclear power plant explosion.” Their friend spoke.

“Wouldn’t we have seen the nuclear power plant when we drove in?” Finn asked, still standing in the same spot, leaving him alone in the hallway by his lonesome self.

His friend shrugged her shoulders, going into a room, he heard the shutter of the camera.

“Natural or manmade disasters kept happening, maybe that’s another reason this town is a ghost town.” Their friend spoke, as the sound of the camera shutter continued.

Finn let out an annoyed huff, going into the first apartment room, standing in the middle of the room. His eyes scanned the room, the room was small, the kitchen was small, the kitchen counters were only on one wall, there were two doors to his left side, probably bedrooms he thought to himself. The place was a mess, the circular table was flipped over. Cutlery, newspapers and magazines, as well as books and DVDs, and other things lay scattered on the floor, the place looked like it had been robbed.

Finn took a step to the closed door, his hand wrapping around the doorknob, turning the knob, the door opened with a loud creak, making Finn cringe, the room was dark and smelled like dust and mould, Finn’s hand slipped away from the doorknob, his hand slipped into his back pocket grabbing his iPhone and slipping it out of the pocket, he quickly pressed the home button, making the screen light up, his fingertips moved up on the bottom of the screen, making some application apps show up, Finn’s finger pressed the torch application. Smiling to himself, as the led light lit up the dark room.

Finn took a step into the room, it was a kid’s room, to be more specific it was a six-year-old boy’s room.

Finn's eyes scanned the room, his phone moving around the room. His eyes landed on a box of Legos, making his eyes lit up with excitement. He quickly walked over to it, opening it up, his hands getting covered with dust, not that he cared about that, he sat on the dirty carpet floor, putting his phone down beside him making sure the light coming from the phone faced upwards, his hands grabbed some Lego pieces out of the box, and put them onto his lap.

He was so caught up in playing with Legos that he didn’t notice a presence behind him, that presences being his girlfriend, she rolled her eyes at him, of course, he would have to find Legos and play with them, he’d probably take them back with him, when they leave.

She walked over to him resting her hand on his shoulder and crouching down beside him, which made him jump, he turned his head to face her, his eyes widened like a deer caught in the headlights, before his facial features softened, as he saw his girlfriend beside him, smiling softly at him.

“We are going to explore the next floor, did you want to come with or are you quite content with playing with Legos?” she asked, her thumbing rubbing his shoulder softly.

“Nah, I’m pretty content staying here, and playing with the Legos.” He replied, looking back at the Lego pieces he put together.

“Okay, we will come and get you when we are finished.” She responded, leaning close to him, and pressing a tender kiss against his cheek, pulling away from him and standing back up and walking out of the room, joining her friend who was waiting outside for her.

“Is he coming?” her friend asked her.

“Nah, he's pretty content on playing with the Legos he found.” She responded.

Her friend rolled her eyes.

“Of course, he had to find Legos, he is such a dork.” her friend grumbled.

“True but my dork, come on let's go up, we will have to take the stairs though, you know since the elevator doesn’t work.” She spoke.

“Ugh, stairs.” Her friend whined as they started to walk towards the stairs that led up to the next floor.

“Don’t be such a wuss, its only stairs.” She chuckled, then laughed at her friend, when they both started to ascend the stairs, all the while her friend whining with every step she took…

・。・゜☆・。・。☆・゜・。・゜。・。・゜☆・。・。 MEANWHILE

Rhys walked cautiously towards the ghost town, while you followed close behind him, keeping a lookout for any walkers, your shotgun held up in front of you, your finger hovering over the trigger ready to press down on it, if you saw one of those meat puppets.

The two of you’s stopped when you’s reached the car, Rhys turned his head to look at you, raising his eyebrow at you.

“So, the kid was right.” Rhys spoke, while you just shrugged your shoulders. He then turned his attention back to the black SUV.

“Fucking tourist.” Rhys muttered under his breath. He leaned his face to the car window, peering into it.

“Let’s just raid the car, get the things we need and go back to the bunker.” He spoke, opening the passenger side door, and opening his backup up, he started to put items in his backup.

Just as you were about to reply and open the back door to the passenger side, you and Rhys heard a blood-curdling scream, then another one following after it. Your hand slipped from the door handle, just as you passed Rhys, he grabbed your forearm, spinning you around to face him. He gave you a stern look before speaking.

“Y/n.” Rhys warned, giving a look that said leave it alone.

“I can't just let it slide Rhys, just keep watch and I’ll handle it.” You grumbled, giving him a stern look.

“Fine, but if you don’t come back in four to five minutes, I’m coming in, I don’t care about keeping watch for those meat puppets, I’m not going to risk your life for their life, you mean a lot more to me than they do.” Rhys spoke, making the stern expression you gave him drop, you looked at him with a sad smile, before responding.

“I know, I promise I will be back in five minutes and if not, you can come in.” you spoke, Rhys gave you a smile, though you could tell it was fake, you knew he couldn’t care less about those tourists.

Rhys let go of your forearm, then avoided all eye contact with you, clearly pissed you were going in there alone.

You let out a sigh, giving him one last reassuring smile, before walking towards the apartment building, your shotgun in front of you.

you quickly entered the apartment building, hearing muffled crying and feet shuffling on the floor above you. You gripped the handle of the shotgun tightly, as you walked to the stairs. Slowly but cautiously ascending the stairs to the first floor, the shotgun aimed in front of you, just as you took a step forward, you heard a spitty hiss than an annoying moan, from above you. Your eyes narrowed as you walked rather quickly towards the stairs that lead to the second floor, you ascended the stairs rather quickly.

You glared at the zombie in front of, slamming its decaying body against a closed door, all the while moaning and hissing. God, you hated zombies.

“Hey, lame brains.” You shouted, making the zombie stop slamming its decaying body against the door, it turned its decaying head towards you, making you cringe at the sight of it before it could even turn its body fully around to face you or even shuffle towards you at a snail's pace, you lifted the shotgun up in front of you aiming the barrel of the gun at its forehead, then pulled the trigger, the zombie crashed to the floor as blood poured out of the wound.

“Sucker.” You smirked, you lowered your gun with a satisfied smile on your face. But it suddenly dropped into a frown when you heard muffled sobs and whimpering. You rolled your eyes, god people could be so dumb sometimes.

You took small steps towards the closed door, knocking on it softly.

“It’s okay, you can come out now, I killed the meat puppet.” You spoke.

You heard the lock unclicking, then the sound of the door creaking as it slowly opened, you came face to face with a guy with blue eyes.

“Were any of you scratched or bitten?” you asked them dryly, eyeing them suspiciously, your eyes caught sight of a scratch mark on one of the girls and a bite mark on the other, you could already tell by the pale look on there faces that the virus was taking effect, you had to take action before it was too late.

Without hesitation, you raised your shotgun in front of you aiming at the girl with the bite mark, before pulling the trigger, the bullet went straight into her forehead, making her head slump, she fell, her blood spluttered straight onto the girl next to her, making the girl let out a shriek, honestly the shriek gave you a god damn headache.

The guy looked utterly shocked but came to his senses when he saw you raise the gun at the other girl.

He quickly stood in front of the barrel, making you glare at him

“Don’t try to be the hero moron, her fate was sealed the moment she got scratched, she’s turning into them now, so might as well put her out of her misery.” You growled.

“I don’t care, I love her, and I will not let you shoot her, you already killed my friend, if you want to kill her then you will have to go through me.” He threatened.

“That can be arranged.” You responded coldly.

You aimed the shotgun towards his kneecap, pulling the trigger, the guy let out a groan of pain, doubling over and clutching his blown knee cap. You, on the other hand, weren’t fazed at all, your attention was on the girl who was pleading and begging for mercy, you raised the gun towards her head and pulled the trigger, making the girl let out a choked gasp as the bullet hit.

Finn noticed this and quickly tackled you to the ground, with all the strength he could muster up, he pinned your hands above your head, straddling your waist, as you wiggled underneath him, his eyes burned with hatred as he looked down at you, his mouth set into a thin line, while he clenched his jaw.

You stopped moving underneath him, smirking up at him, which made him even angrier.

“Do it, kill me, I dare you to, it might bring you satisfaction watching the person that killed your lover die, but it’s definitely not going to bring her back, I did you a favour, watching the ones you love get shot is much easier than watching them turn into those meat puppets.” You growled, narrowing your eyes at him, almost challenging him.

He let go of your hands and wrapped his hands around your throat, choking you to the point where he cut off oxygen, making you choke, your hands gripped his wrist trying to pry him off of you.

“You did me a favour?” he snapped.

“You killed my girlfriend and best friend, right in front of me, you’re a god, damn sociopath.” He growled, tightening his grip around your neck, making you gasp.

You couldn’t really answer him back, or insult him, but you were fading quickly, your lungs burned from the lack of air you were receiving, black spots started to appear across your vision, your eyes watering, your body went limp. Your eyes fluttering closed, before you could even pass out, you felt his grip on your neck being released.

You opened your eyes, gasping for air, then coughing. You looked up to see Rhys pinning the guy to the wall, one of his hands gripped the guy's throat, while he gave him a murderous look. If looks alone could kill, then that guy who choked you would be dead.

“Listening here, you fuckin’ douchebag, if you ever fucking put your hands around my girl's throat again, I’ll torture you in ways you’ve never imagined.” Rhys spat out. His hand tightened around the guy's neck, making the guy choke.

You let out a huff, getting up slowly and picking your shotgun up then walking towards him. You put your hand on Rhys' shoulder, rubbing it softly. Rhys turned his head back towards you, his gaze softening as he looked at you.

“Let’s get out of here, he can go back home, and we can go back to our hideout before more of those meat puppets come.” You spoke with a raspy voice.

Rhys thought about it for a second, his eyebrows furrowed slightly, but then his expression started to change once he looked at the guy, he was strangling, his facial expression turned into anger again. Making you slightly panic.

“He hurt you.” He growled through gritted teeth, tightening his grip. You could tell the guy was slowly slipping into unconscious.

“Rhys.” You pleaded, but he wasn’t listening, all his attention was on the guy he was strangling the living daylights out of.

“Please, I want to go back to the bunker, I don’t want to stick around here and wait for more zombies to come and trust me there will be more of those meat puppets.” You pleaded again, making Rhys stop.

He let out a sigh, before slowly releasing his grip on the dudes’ neck, making the guy drop to the floor, grasping his neck and coughing.

“If I ever see you again, I will put a bullet in that pretty little head of yours, you understand me.” Rhys threatened, making the guy nodded his head frantically, Rhys gave him one last murderous look, before turning around towards you, his eyes scanning the marks on your neck, he gave you a pained look, but then it turned into a look of rage, whilst his fingertips touched the marks. You could tell he was thinking about hurting that guy again.

“Let’s go.” You sighed before he could even think about turning back around, and hurting that guy again, your hand wrapped around Rhys wrist, pulling him out of the room and down the stairs, then down the other stairs then exiting the apartment.

Your eyes widen as you heard that annoying moan and shuffling of feet. You turned your head to the direction of the sound, letting out a curse as you saw a herd of them making there way over to the guy's car, now he couldn’t go back at all, and you knew for sure he couldn’t defend himself from a herd of zombies, so he definitely had to come back to the bunker with Rhys and you.

“Let’s go.” Rhys spoke, noticing the herd of zombies as well, his hand holding yours while he intertwined his fingers with yours, you dug your feet into the ground when he tried to flee with you, making him turn around towards you giving you a questioning look.

“Wait, we can’t just leave him inside, he can’t defend for himself, heck he couldn’t even defend himself, his girlfriend and friend from one of them, what makes you think he is going to survive a herd of them.” You spoke, making Rhys give you a ‘are you serious’ look.

“So, I don’t care about him, he literally tried to kill you about five minutes ago, and you want to save his ass?” Rhys shouted, staring at you like you have grown two heads.

“And failed, the idiot can’t even strangle a person right, I bet he would have let go once my eyes closed.” You responded.

“Don’t bet on your life y/n.” Rhys scolded you, slightly looking behind you, then looking back at you.

He let out a scoff, letting go of your hand, then ran his hand through his hair.

“Fine, I’ll go get him, stay here.” He huffed, turning back around and walking into the apartment, but stopped at the doorway when he saw the guy he was meant to get, walking slowly down the stairs.

Rhys rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed he had to save this wankers ass.

“I’m sorry about this, well not really, it’s just easier if you aren’t struggling.” Rhys spoke, walking up to the guy and slamming his head rather forcefully against the stair rail. Finn quickly blacked out, making Rhys smile.

Rhys picked the guys body up, slugging it across his shoulder and walking out of the apartment, he took ahold of your hand and pulled you away from the oncoming herd of zombies.

The two of you ran into the forest, dodging tree branches as you’s both ran faster, the two of you’s only slowed down once you’s reached the familiar sight of the bunker. The two of you’s made a beeline to it, opening the door and going inside.

Rhys shot you look of annoyance.

“You better hope he doesn’t put any of the other people here at risk, cause if he does, no matter what you try to say to change my mind on killing him it won’t work.” Rhys growled, walking down the stairs and leaving you all alone at the top of them.

You let out a sigh, running your fingers through your hair.

“What if I made a mistake bringing that dude here, I mean he did try to kill me, though it’s understandable I did kill his best friend and girlfriend, still what if he strangles the other people in the bunker, I mean grief does change people.” You thought to yourself.

“I have to put him in check.” you muttered to yourself, you quickly walked down the stairs, the shotgun still gripped tightly in your left hand. You grabbed the first person you come across.

“Do you know where Rhys went with that guy?” you asked the woman, the woman only gave you a confused stare, having no clue what you were talking about.

“The dungeon.” A young boy spoke, making you let go of the woman to turn to the young boy, you gave him a thankful smile.

“Thank you.” You spoke, making the young boy smile. Before you could turn around you felt hands wrap around your leg. You looked down to see the young boy holding onto your leg, looking up at you with scared eyes.

“Y/n/n, is the guy that Rhys took to the dungeon a bad guy?” he asked you, as your fingers ran through his hair trying to soothe him.

“I don’t know, I hope not, but if he is, I promise I won’t let him hurt or and anybody here.” You answered the young boy smiled up at you, happy with your answer. He hugged your leg before letting go and running off.

You let out a sigh, before quickly rushing off towards the dungeon, you opened the door to see Rhys towering above the guy. He was tied up to a chair his head slumped downwards.

You walked over towards the table, that held the weapons. You gently put the shotgun on the table picking up the revolver, staring at it intently.

“I got this, Rhys, I’ll threaten him, and if he retaliates or hurts anyone else in this bunker or even betrays me, then I’ll kill him, with no hesitation.” You spoke.

Rhys turned his head to look at you. Your back was faced towards him, as you continued to look at the revolver. Rhys rolled his eyes at you, not that you could see it.

“What if, he just lies and agrees then when you undo the ropes, he attacks you and kills you.” Rhys grumbled.

“He won’t if he's smart then he will choose to be in my good books.” You replied dryly.

“He tried to kill you, y/n, he strangled you, he had his hands wrapped tightly around your throat, he was choking the living daylights out of you, and you want him to agree to be in your good books. Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds, did you lose brain cells while being choked? He should be dead, heck we should have left him in that god damn apartment, or you should have put a god damn bullet in his headfirst, then killed those bitches that were with him, not bring him here-” Rhys ranted.

“Besides…. They all show mercy when you play Russian roulette with them.” You smirked, interrupting Rhys from his tirade, you grabbed a bullet for the revolver, you finally turned to face him, Rhys angry expression dropped into a smug look.

“Fine, but I’m waiting by the door inside this room, I don’t trust him, if he is capable of strangling you then he is capable of much worse.” Rhys huffed, while you continued to smirk.

“Oh, he won’t ever cross me again.” You smirked, smiling at him.

Just as Rhys was about to respond, a loud gasp cut him off, your head, as well as Rhys, turned towards the guy that was slowly lifting his head up, letting out small whimpers and coughs.

He tried to move, but he couldn’t he was restrained, his eyes widen, as he looked down, noticing ropes wrapped around him, his head snapped up to see you and Rhys, he glared at the both of you’s, but his eyes caught sight on what was in your hands, a revolver. His heart quickened, but a glare remained on his face still, he couldn’t show you’s two any sort of fear, though on the inside he was scared shitless.

“I’m going to give you one warning boy, and you better be wise and show mercy.” You spoke, still standing next to the table.

“You killed my girlfriend and best friend, and you want me to show mercy, go to hell.” He spat out, making you chuckle darkly. Finn gulped, as you took a step forward.

“Figured you’d say that, so let’s play a little game.” You taunted, as you stood in front of him. Finn looked up at you, slightly trembling as he looked into your eyes, they looked dead, void of emotion.

You let out a hum as you looked down at the revolver, putting one bullet into the chamber then, clicking it back in, you spun the cylinder, all the while smirking while doing it.

He gulped when he felt the barrel of the gun being pressed to his forehead, he closed his eyes tightly waiting for the bullet to enter his skull, but nothing came, only a click.

You let out a tsk sound, before pulling the trigger again, and getting the same response, this only made you smirk. Finn shook in fear, his heart thumped harder against his ribcage, his whole body trembled, while he started to regret ever coming to this ghost town, he started to regret his actions of strangling you.

“You’ll be amazed by how many people show mercy when their life is about to end.” You chuckled, pulling the trigger again, only to hear a click.

“They beg for mercy, they plead for you to spare their miserable life, they even cry, or they give up information, it’s quite pathetic really.” You ranted, pulling the trigger again, making Finn sob, tears fell from his eyes, but he didn’t plead for mercy, which only added more fuel to the fire.

“You know boy, I didn’t feel an ounce of regret for shooting your best friend and girlfriend, though I do regret not killing you, maybe I should have let Rhys kill you, you’re lucky I had sympathy for you and took you in, I should have left you there, but I didn’t because I’m not that evil, but yet I have this nagging feeling that you  are you going to kill me in this bunker all because I killed your girlfriend and best friend, cause they got bitten and scratched.” Continuing your rant, pulling the trigger again, but no bullet came out.

“It’s not my fault you three stumbled across this town, heck I don’t blame you for exploring it, the government hide this from everyone, so well, taking us off the maps, avoiding the problem, but the fact that you strangled me really pisses me off, if I didn’t kill them, then they would have killed you in an instant, they don’t remember their lives before they turned into zombies, so you could try to reassure them, talk them out of it, but they cant register a word you are saying, all they care about is eating you alive.” You hummed, smirking at the cylinder as you noticed that it was finally on the bullet.

“So, moron, since you aren’t going to show me any mercy, might as well just end your life quickly, you’ll be with your girlfriend and best friend in no time, and I’ll be still killing zombies.” You concluded, just as your finger touched the trigger, He spoke up.

“M-mercy, I show mercy, I yield, I-I’m s-sorry, I regret strangling you, I’m sorry please don’t hurt me, please, I won't ever hurt you again, please, I won't kill you, please, j-just spare my life.” He pleaded, his voice shuttering.

You let out a content hum, lowering the gun to your side, you lowered your head down towards his ear, making him whimper.

“If you ever betray me or retaliate, I will put a bullet in that pretty little head of yours or feed you to those meat puppets.” You hissed, pulling away from him, you gave him one last cold glare before you turned around, walking towards the table, where you got the revolver from you put it down, and turned back around towards him, a smirk graced your face, making him tremble even more.

“Rhys here will show you to the kitchen, you must be pretty hungry and thirsty after all that chaos.” You spoke, you turned around to Rhys, then turned back to the guy again, he honestly looked like he was about to pass out.

“Oh, I forget to ask, what was your name again?” you asked, titling your head to the side and waiting for his response.

“F-Finn.” He gasped out, avoiding eye contact with you.

“Well Finn, you are in safe hands now, though you will have to start training, Rhys can help you with that.” You replied, turning back around and walking towards the door, as you passed Rhys you gave him smug look, silently telling him ‘told you he would show mercy’. Rhys just rolled his eyes, as you walked out the door.

Rhys turned his attention to this Finn guy, glaring at him, but Finn avoided all eye contact with him.

Rhys took slow intimidating steps towards Finn until he reached him, he gripped Finn’s throat tightly, making Finn gasp for air, tears falling from his eyes even more.

“Listen here you ungrateful little shit, if you ever, ever, you hear me, hurt my girl or even think of hurting her, or betray her, I’ll make your life so miserable you’ll want to end your own life.” Rhys growled.

“I, s-said m-mercy.” Finn choked out, as best as he could.

“Actions speak louder than words, buddy, and if all your words where lies, then I will gladly kill you, your life means nothing to me.” He hissed, squeezing Finn’s neck a little tighter.

“I-I w-wont h-hurt h-her, I-I p-promise.” Finn choked out.

“Good, now let’s get you something to eat.” Rhys grumbled, letting go of Finn’s neck, Rhys took out his pocketknife, opening it up in front of Finn, all the while smiling down at him. Finn gulped while trying to breath normal again.

Rhys cut the ropes, once he finished cutting all of the ropes, he then put his pocket knife back in his back pocket, gripping Finn’s shoulder roughly and pulling him up, Rhys pushed Finn in front of him, making Finn stumble a bit before he gained his balance, Finn turned his head to the side to see Rhys giving Finn an annoyed look.

“Let’s go.” Rhys grumbled, pushing Finn out of the room.

He should have stayed home, he should have tried harder to try to persuade his girlfriend and bestie to stay home, he should have explored the second floor with them, he should have been the one scratched or bitten by that zombie, he should have never strangled you, well he should have just put a bullet in your skull, but still, then he would have regretted it you were only doing what you were used to, but that still didn’t make him forgive you, you shot them without hesitation, if he would have run away then he would have never be stuck here with a couple who were sociopaths, in the middle of nowhere. Why isn’t the government helping them? Do they know there are people still human in this town, that they need their help?”

He had to get out of this bunker, he had to get away from you and Rhys, so if that meant faking an alliance and faking being nice to you’s two then so be it, he still didn’t regret strangling you, you did kill his girlfriend and best friend, and for that, he would never forgive you, so if playing you and Rhys for fools was his only way out of this bunker then he would play you’s two for fools...

[a-taller-tale]

Subterfuge

″Blood Gulch” square for Red Team Bingo Read on Ao3 Summary: Set after the events of Season 1. The pink guy is in Blue Base. Church always liked that guy. Ships: Churchnut, Chex

Church had been planning on his usual morning routine. Take a mug of coffee out of the base and pretend coffee had any effect on him whatsoever. Maybe look at the view the His and Her set of graves had of the base. Stare into the sun and contemplate why he was stuck in fucking purgatory with a bunch of assholes instead of being in heaven with Tex.

Well, maybe she was in hell. She was kind of a bitch.

Church had been planning on his usual morning routine. Take a mug of coffee out of the base and pretend coffee had any effect on him whatsoever. Maybe look at the view the His and Her set of graves had of the base. Stare into the sun and contemplate why he was stuck in fucking purgatory with a bunch of assholes instead of being in heaven with Tex.

Well, maybe she was in hell. She was kind of a bitch.

Church’s philosophy as leader of Blue Team was to let the two morons sleep as long as possible to extend the few hours of fucking peace to be had in this canyon. Once Tucker or Caboose got up they’d probably have Caboose play “the lifting game” to get all the supplies from the last drop into the base while he and Tucker shot the shit.

The Red sergeant was working on some new robots since they were missing Lopez. Lopez, the robot Church had decided to possess permanently so he didn’t have to project for all of these motherfuckers all the time. It took a lot of ghost energy or whatever. So Church was looking forward to a quiet morning wallowing in silence.

He was really over playing lookout for the Reds to attack at this point anyway. Even when they did manage to get their shit together to make a run on Blue Base they fucking sucked at it. Half the time they came over the orange one forgot to bring extra ammo.

Last time the orange guy—Grif—waited until the others weren’t looking and gave him a surreptitious thumbs up. Seemed like Church wasn’t the only one done with the whole war game. He’d sighed and given him a thumbs up back. Early retreats were less hassle anyway.

Going from the hall to the kitchen Church almost tripped over somebody’s mess. “Jesus Christ…” Church muttered to himself. He was going to fucking lose it. Was he immortal? Would he have to deal with this bullshit until they all died?

What if they came back as ghosts too?

That was a horrifying thought. Fucking eternity with all the goddamn questions. ‘Are we best friends?’ ‘Can I use the sniper rifle?’ ‘Do you really like me?’ ‘What are they talking about now?’

Hopefully they slept past noon— “Oh, hey Donut.” ...That was going to be difficult with a Red in his kitchen humming the opening number to the musical Hairspray.

“Good morning to you too! Appletini?” Donut held out a glass with a bright green tint to it, drinking his own red one. The pink guy wasn’t even in his goddamn armor. He was wearing civvies and had somehow managed to get their flag and fold it into something resembling a kitchen apron.

“It’s seven in the morning. Where did you even get the—? No. Forget it. Get the fuck out of our base.”

Donut fluttered his eyelashes and leaned back against the counter. The Red was attractive, especially considering the other specimens there were to choose from around here. Donut looked like he could be a glossy ad for a preppy college, aside from the massive burn scar from a sticky on the right side of his face.

Oh, right.

“You’re the one who killed Tex.” Church folded his arms. “I’m still pissed.”

He should kill him, right? Defend her honor? He looked back down the hallway nervously. But Caboose was such a light sleeper.

“Who? The girl in black armor? She tried to kill me first. Although I guess I should thank her. The boys who fixed me up stripped me right out of that boring regulation red. That color didn’t go with my complexion at all. Where is she anyway?”

“Dead. Because you killed her.”

“Oh! Riiiiiight.” He ignored Church’s threat to boot him and took some another sip of his drink. “It’s a pear orange cranberry bellini martini. My own recipe. Maybe you’d like something Red better.” He raised one perfect eyebrow.

“It’s pink.”

Donut sniffed, offended. “Okay, no one can resist my cookies. Citrus orange ginger, fresh out of the oven.”

Fuck, he wished he wasn’t in a robot body now. The pink guy’s cookies were the best. “I’m uh… on a diet.”

Donut stuck his bottom lip out. “Well, I’ll get out of your hair then. You make sure you save some cookies for Caboose and tell him we’re still on for nail night.”

“Right.” Wait. “What—”

Suddenly Donut was in his face. “Goodbye kiss?”

“What the—? You killed my girlfriend!” Church screeched before remembering he was trying to be quiet. He listened tensely, but didn’t hear anyone moving.

Donut smiled, immediately catching on to his train of thought. “Kiss me or I’ll scream.”

Alright, what Tex didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. She was in the afterlife with angels and shit and he was stuck here with loud annoying idiots and three more hours of peace and quiet were worth a little peck.

Donut hung off of Church like he was a completely romanced heroine from an ancient black and white movie. Church peeked one eye open. Yup, he even had one leg quirked up behind him. It wasn’t like that with Tex. Tex always— Tex kissed—

Huh.

He actually couldn’t remember the way Tex kissed. Or the last time they’d kissed at all. But they must have. She was his girlfriend!

Being a ghost came with a depressing amount of memory problems.

Luckily, Donut was a surprisingly good kisser. Church’s sensors were going wild with enough input that he wasn’t as bothered by his missing memories suddenly.

With a few soft pecks, Donut pulled back. Church opened his eyes slowly, only to be met with a perfect smile full of shining white teeth. “I knew it,” he said with a feral grin.

“What?”

“A-hah! You fiend! You scoundrel!” Donut pointed in his face. “I’d know those lips anywhere! You stole Lopez!”

“Wait, you ‘know his lips?’” What the fuck was going on? How would the Reds aside from Sarge know Lopez had a realistic human body under his armor anyway? The robot kit was supposed to be standard military equipment.

“A teammate makes it his business to know any of their lips anywhere for just these types of situations!”

“I should be offended you weren’t actually interested in kissing me,” Church said flatly.

“You’re the enemy. It’s called subterfuge. This was a mission for information and you just handed it to me.” His tone said the ‘kissing your enemy’ thing was definitely doing something for him.

“Alright, you need to shut the fuck up and go back to Red Base.” The Reds were so fucking loud.

Donut drained the last of his bellini martini and smashed the glass on the floor, before whipping around dramatically. “You haven’t seen the last of Double-O-Donut!”

“Ugh, GET OUT.”

“Someday I will free you, Lopez!” Donut said, clutching his fist to his heart. “Don’t stop believing! Never stop!” With a last toss of his head, Donut pulled the Blue flag off of himself to flutter over the broken glass and walked off like any path he took was a runway.

Church heard the Warthog start up to drive Donut the five feet back to the other base, suspicious Donut only made the martinis so he could smash one dramatically and leave glass all over the floor.

Church sighed. The guys were definitely awake after all of that. At least one of them could clean up the glass or something. Tucker appeared first, reaching around Church to grab one of the cookies. “Dude, were you just making out with one of the Reds? You know that’s gay, right?”

“Yes, I know two guys kissing is gay. Shut up Tucker.” Church stuffed two cookies in his mouth stubbornly even though he’d just have to clean them out of this body later.

“Hey, I’m all for you having a boyfriend if he cooks for us. These cookies are awesome. And I still have dibs on the girl Red if we’re allowed to date them.”

“The girl one?”

“Yeah, the pink one. It’s a chick color! What’re you stupid?”

Yeah, okay. “Sure, Tucker. You can have the pink one.” He stuffed another cookie in his mouth.

Donut made his way back to Red Base, having had a fantastic morning. He’d always had a thing for ghosts, but he and Church’s irresistible chemistry would just have to wait. Donut had a rescue mission to plan, and Double-O-Donut always gets his man!

[jamalgreene325-blog]

We plan to hit him hard and send a message to stay out of Harlem. He has a brother running one of his stash houses on University Avenue and 183rd Street; he also has a crew working out of the Forrest Projects and a few other spots. Do we have your approval, boss?”

“Yeah, you do. I have to send word to the Commission about what’s happening out here and to watch their asses in there, in case Tone has some associates inside with Shine and the rest of the crew who might want some payback. This is an all-out war now. Prince, handle your business.”

Prince called out for Ray, Kareem, and Kwan. “Kwan, we’re out. We have work to put in.”

“I am sending Asia,” Aisha said. “She is going along to watch your backs.”

The men got hooded up and loaded their weapons. Then they loaded up into three black on black Navigators with tinted windows. As they were driving along, everybody was wearing black, black ski masks and hats. Everyone was rechecking their automatic weapons and ammo. Prince had a few grenades. He passed them out for extra killing power. Then he pulled out a remote control.

They ride into the Bronx, to the danger zone first. Prince pulled up around University Avenue. He sent Rae Kwan and his men to the Forrest Projects on Tinton Avenue. Prince surrounded the block on University. As he had suspected, a crew was out there selling dope and coke in front of the projects. The night was deathly silent. Danger filled the air. Project window lights were on. People were watching television, unaware of what was about to happen. Customers were copping their drugs coming and going without a care in the world on their way to get high. Some were rushing away, not paying attention to anything, except the drugs in their hands and the thrill they hoped to experience. The crew of the Spanish cats mixed with a few brothers. They acted like nothing had happened. Music from the radio was playing hip-hop music. Prince had Asia driving. No one suspected a thing. She drove around the block again, taking notice of the people around and who was who. The lookouts were not paying serious attention to the female driving a Navigator.

“Hey, ma!” one of them yelled. “We have what you want!” he yelled and grabbed his crotch.

“Too small!” Asia yelled back. “You’re too short to ride this ride, baby boy!”

The back windows slowly rolled down, and the sunroof opened, but it was too late for them to react. As Ray pointed his automatic out of the window, the Spanish guy yelled,

“Oh, shit!”

Prince popped out of the sunroof, too.

“This is from Black Sunday, bitches!” he yelled, and guns started blazing.

Bodies started falling to the ground, screaming in pain. Prince threw a grenade into one of the cars parked with three people inside, smoking weed. The explosion made a loud noise, breaking several car windows and tearing apart the bodies of the gunmen. Blood and guts flew out. Alarms started sounding, and the earth shook from the explosion. It was like Viet Nam in this small hood tonight. The police received a call that all hell had broken loose on University Avenue, and like any other incident in the hood, they reacted slowly because getting there and rendering aid was not a chief concern of theirs. It was only those niggers and Germans killing themselves again.

Asia backed up the SUV, and Prince burst another round. Money and blood were running into the streets, down to the curbs, and into the drains. One of the young men tried running into the project building. Asia aimed and caught him directly in the head. His brains came spilling out onto the ground and the grass, which turned red with blood. One of his sneakers fell off, showing a hole in his sock. Then Asia sped off toward the Bronx Expressway into the night and on to the next spot. As they are driving away, you could hear the cries and screams back off in the distance. You could see cars ablaze.

Prince called ahead to the other vehicles parked along Tinton Avenue, next to the private house across the street from the Forrest Projects. In the dark, Rae Kwan was holding up his binoculars and spotted men racing to their cars. They had been alerted by phone. Prince told his men, “Hit ’em hard now before they can gather and prepare.”

Rae Kwan sped out from their position, lights off as they came in closer. He turned on his bright lights, blinding the young Spanish crew. They tried to put up their hands to prevent the lights from blinding them. They put their hands over their eyes to block out the bright glare of the high beams, and then the sound of automatic weapons firing broke out. The men tried to scatter for cover, but they were caught in the crossfire. Ghost blasted one of the young hustlers as he attempted to run in front of him. When the blast hit him, he was knocked off his feet, taking off half of his shoulder. Flesh and bone were torn from his shoulder. As he fell, he pissed in his pants from the blast and the shock hitting him.

King Tone’s crew had underestimated Black Sunday’s response. They were celebrating a false victory prematurely, and now it was payback time. The police knew the Forrest Projects were a red zone, so they were not in a hurry to invade no man’s land. That part of the hood was another Viet Nam.

The sergeant said, “Let the niggers and spics kill themselves!”

If it was in Midtown or on Pleasant Avenue, it would have been an immediate response to shots fired. Instead, they had allowed terror to reign. A few of the Death Squad were experienced from having fought in Desert Storm. They felt

[jamalgreene325-blog]

You were busy with your business. The Commission was under investigation, concerning mob activities, and then they fell. So your mind was on other things. You overlooked our activities.”  

“Baby girl, this is not the life I wanted for you, not this way. You have a sharp business mind.”  

Aisha paused, turned around, and it clicked in her mind. Everything became clear. All the trips, fancy clothes while growing up in school, the money Mama had whenever he came around. She let on then, but she didn’t tell her. In her heart, she suddenly knew he was their father; that was the only thing that made any sense out of the situation.  

Prince and Hakim felt the closeness between them at that moment. Hakim was puzzled by Mr. Big’s reaction to Aisha. “Boss,” Hakim said, interrupting the special moment.  

Big was about to tell her he was her father, but that would put her in greater danger. That was why he’d stayed out of her mother’s life all those years ago. That was why he pulled Jamal off the corner and stopped him from working in the projects. It was his way of protecting them, the whole family. Mr. Big kept his love for their mother a well-kept and deeply hidden secret that had consequences. He had to keep away from the ones he loved the most. Some renegade crews didn’t respect civilians, and he couldn’t put their lives in danger for his desires. The commission had taught him that.  

Then a call came in on Hakim’s cell phone. “Excuse me, boss. I have to take this call.” Hakim exited the room.  

“Prince, tell me your plans and what you need from me.”  

“Nothing, boss. I have already set plans into motion. As soon as I roll out and get a few of the things I need, then we’re out on the hunt for King Tone. He has a spot on Hunt’s Point, a strip club. We plan to hit him hard and send a message to stay out of Harlem. He has a brother running one of his stash houses on University Avenue and 183rd Street; he also has a crew working out of the Forrest Projects and a few other spots. Do we have your approval, boss?”  

“Yeah, you do. I have to send word to the Commission about what’s happening out here and to watch their asses in there, in case Tone has some associates inside with Shine and the rest of the crew who might want some payback. This is an all-out war now. Prince, handle your business.”  

Prince called out for Ray, Kareem, and Kwan. “Kwan, we’re out. We have work to put in.”  

“I am sending Asia,” Aisha said. “She is going along to watch your backs.”  

The men got hooded up and loaded their weapons. Then they loaded up into three black on black Navigators with tinted windows. As they were driving along, everybody was wearing black, black ski masks and hats. Everyone was rechecking their automatic weapons and ammo. Prince had a few grenades. He passed them out for extra killing power. Then he pulled out a remote control.  

They ride into the Bronx, to the danger zone first. Prince pulled up around University Avenue. He sent Rae Kwan and his men to the Forrest Projects on Tinton Avenue. Prince surrounded the block on University. As he had suspected, a crew was out there selling dope and coke in front of the projects. The night was deathly silent. Danger filled the air. Project window lights were on. People were watching television, unaware of what was about to happen. Customers were copping their drugs coming and going without a care in the world on their way to get high. Some were rushing away, not paying attention to anything, except the drugs in their hands and the thrill they hoped to experience. The crew of the Spanish cats mixed with a few brothers. They acted like nothing had happened. Music from the radio was playing hip-hop music. Prince had Asia driving. No one suspected a thing. She drove around the block again, taking notice of the people around and who was who. The lookouts were not paying serious attention to the female driving a Navigator.  

“Hey, ma!” one of them yelled. “We have what you want!” he yelled and grabbed his crotch.  

“Too small!” Asia yelled back. “You’re too short to ride this ride, baby boy!”  

The back windows slowly rolled down, and the sunroof opened, but it was too late for them to react. As Ray pointed his automatic out of the window, the Spanish guy yelled,  

“Oh, shit!”  

Prince popped out of the sunroof, too.  

“This is from Black Sunday, bitches!” he yelled, and guns started blazing.

Bodies started falling to the ground, screaming in pain. Prince threw a grenade into one of the cars parked with three people inside, smoking weed. The explosion made a loud noise, breaking several car windows and tearing apart the bodies of the gunmen. Blood and guts flew out. Alarms started sounding, and the earth shook from the explosion. It was like Viet Nam in this small hood tonight. The police received a call that all hell had broken loose on University Avenue, and like any other incident in the hood, they reacted slowly because getting there and rendering aid was not a chief concern of theirs. It was only those niggers and Germans killing themselves again.  

Asia backed up the SUV, and Prince burst another round. Money and blood were running into the streets, down to the curbs, and into the drains. One of the young men tried running into the project building. Asia aimed and caught him directly in the head. His brains came spilling out onto the ground and the grass, which turned red with blood. One of his sneakers fell off, showing a hole in his sock. Then Asia sped off toward the Bronx Expressway into the night and on to the next spot. As they are driving away, you could hear the cries and screams back off in the distance. You could see cars ablaze.  

Prince called ahead to the other vehicles parked along Tinton Avenue, next to the private house across the street from the Forrest Projects. In the dark, Rae Kwan was holding up his binoculars and spotted men racing to their cars. They had been alerted by phone. Prince told his men, “Hit ’em hard now before they can gather and prepare.”  

Rae Kwan sped out from their position, lights off as they came in closer. He turned on his bright lights, blinding the young Spanish crew. They tried to put up their hands to prevent the lights from blinding them. They put their hands over their eyes to block out the bright glare of the high beams, and then the sound of automatic weapons firing broke out. The men tried to scatter for cover, but they were caught in the crossfire. Ghost blasted one of the young hustlers as he attempted to run in front of him. When the blast hit him, he was knocked off his feet, taking off half of his shoulder. Flesh and bone were torn from his shoulder. As he fell, he pissed in his pants from the blast and the shock hitting him.  King Tone’s crew had underestimated Black Sunday’s response. They were celebrating a false victory prematurely, and now it was payback time. The police knew the Forrest Projects were a red zone, so they were not in a hurry to invade no man’s land. That part of the hood was another Viet Nam.  

The sergeant said, “Let the niggers and spics kill themselves!”  

If it was in Midtown or on Pleasant Avenue, it would have been an immediate response to shots fired. Instead, they had allowed terror to reign. A few of the Death Squad were experienced from having fought in Desert Storm. They felt intoxicated from the blood bath they were laying down. Smoke came out of the barrels of their weapons

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“Yeah, you do. I have to send word to the Commission about what’s happening out here and to watch their asses in there, in case Tone has some associates inside with Shine and the rest of the crew who might want some payback. This is an all-out war now. Prince, handle your business.”

Prince called out for Ray, Kareem, and Kwan. “Kwan, we’re out. We have work to put in.”

“I am sending Asia,” Aisha said. “She is going along to watch your backs.”

The men got hooded up and loaded their weapons. Then they loaded up into three black on black Navigators with tinted windows. As they were driving along, everybody was wearing black, black ski masks and hats. Everyone was rechecking their automatic weapons and ammo. Prince had a few grenades. He passed them out for extra killing power. Then he pulled out a remote control.

They ride into the Bronx, to the danger zone first. Prince pulled up around University Avenue. He sent Rae Kwan and his men to the Forrest Projects on Tinton Avenue. Prince surrounded the block on University. As he had suspected, a crew was out there selling dope and coke in front of the projects. The night was deathly silent. Danger filled the air. Project window lights were on. People were watching television, unaware of what was about to happen. Customers were copping their drugs coming and going without a care in the world on their way to get high. Some were rushing away, not paying attention to anything, except the drugs in their hands and the thrill they hoped to experience. The crew of the Spanish cats mixed with a few brothers. They acted like nothing had happened. Music from the radio was playing hip-hop music. Prince had Asia driving. No one suspected a thing. She drove around the block again, taking notice of the people around and who was who. The lookouts were not paying serious attention to the female driving a Navigator.

“Hey, ma!” one of them yelled. “We have what you want!” he yelled and grabbed his crotch.

“Too small!” Asia yelled back. “You’re too short to ride this ride, baby boy!”

The back windows slowly rolled down, and the sunroof opened, but it was too late for them to react. As Ray pointed his automatic out of the window, the Spanish guy yelled, “Oh, shit!”

Prince popped out of the sunroof, too.

“This is from Black Sunday, bitches!” he yelled, and guns started blazing.

Bodies started falling to the ground, screaming in pain. Prince threw a grenade into one of the cars parked with three people inside, smoking weed. The explosion made a loud noise, breaking several car windows and tearing apart the bodies of the gunmen. Blood and guts flew out. Alarms started sounding, and the earth shook from the explosion. It was like Viet Nam in this small hood tonight. The police received a call that all hell had broken loose on University Avenue, and like any other incident in the hood, they reacted slowly because getting there and rendering aid was not a chief concern of theirs. It was only those niggers and Germans killing themselves again.

Asia backed up the SUV, and Prince burst another round. Money and blood were running into the streets, down to the curbs, and into the drains. One of the young men tried running into the project building. Asia aimed and caught him directly in the head. His brains came spilling out onto the ground and the grass, which turned red with blood. One of his sneakers fell off, showing a hole in his sock. Then Asia sped off toward the Bronx Expressway into the night and on to the next spot. As they are driving away, you could hear the cries and screams back off in the distance. You could see cars ablaze.

Prince called ahead to the other vehicles parked along Tinton Avenue, next to the private house across the street from the Forrest Projects. In the dark, Rae Kwan was holding up his binoculars and spotted men racing to their cars. They had been alerted by phone. Prince told his men, “Hit ’em hard now before they can gather and prepare.”

Rae Kwan sped out from their position, lights off as they came in closer. He turned on his bright lights, blinding the young Spanish crew. They tried to put up their hands to prevent the lights from blinding them. They put their hands over their eyes to block out the bright glare of the high beams, and then the sound of automatic weapons firing broke out. The men tried to scatter for cover, but they were caught in the crossfire. Ghost blasted one of the young hustlers as he attempted to run in front of him. When the blast hit him, he was knocked off his feet, taking off half of his shoulder. Flesh and bone were torn from his shoulder. As he fell, he pissed in his pants from the blast and the shock hitting him.

 King Tone’s crew had underestimated Black Sunday’s response. They were celebrating a false victory prematurely, and now it was payback time. The police knew the Forrest Projects were a red zone, so they were not in a hurry to invade no man’s land. That part of the hood was another Viet Nam.

The sergeant said, “Let the niggers and spics kill themselves!”

If it was in Midtown or on Pleasant Avenue, it would have been an immediate response to shots fired. Instead, they had allowed terror to reign. A few of the Death Squad were experienced from having fought in Desert Storm. They felt intoxicated from the blood bath they were laying down. Smoke came out of the barrels of their weapons. Rae Kwan’s team jumped back inside of their vehicles and sped off.

Rae Kwan met up with Prince on Boston Road, heading eastwards toward Chino’s spot. Chino was another one of King Tone’s soldiers. He was his top man and brother. They missed him on University, so they set out to catch him near Sound View, near the Bruckner Expressway. They had a little shack over there near the gas station. He often took hookers and strippers up there for entertainment. The perfect spot to catch a trick was on Hunt’s Point.

When Prince and his team pulled up, they didn’t see Chino’s car, so they parked down the block in the darkest area of the block, so they would not be noticed. Asia got out and walked to the corner. The crew saw her and yelled toward her. She was dressed in the tightest fitting stretch pants she had with a black Sean John V-neck sweater, showing off the top part of her breasts with a small rose tattoo.

Prince sat in the car, laughing. Like ants to honey, he thought.

  Just then, Chino pulled up, and his headlights flashed on Asia. “Damn!” he said while exiting the car. “What’s up, chica?”

“What’s up with you, papi?” she replied. She knew him from the photo Aisha had shown her. “You going out, papi?” she asked.

“Oh, you’re in the business?” he replied.

“Sure. Now, are we going out? Time is money, papi,” Asia answered.

“Slow down, chica. Money is no problem. See,” he said as he pulled out a knot.

“Oh, you must be the man,” Asia said and smiled.

“Step up to my place, pretty lady,” he said in broken English. He patted Asia’s ass.

Prince thought, Jamal was right. Pussy will kill you every time, if you let it. Prince signaled the team from the other direction into action. They set out together in slow motion, so as not to attract too much attention. Asia was standing on the second-floor landing. Suddenly the lights came on. Chino turned to see what was going on. Asia whipped out her .38. He heard a click, and that was the last thing he ever saw or heard.

The crew was startled by the swiftness of her actions and attempted to run over, seeing Chino collapse in front of their eyes. As they attempted to cross the street, they were caught in a hail of bullets. Asia ducked behind the garbage cans, unable to return fire. Bullets were hitting all around her, off the stoop and off the garbage cans.

“Kill that bitch!” Pinky yelled. “Kill her!”

Prince let off hot rocks, hitting Pinky in the legs, bringing him down to his knees. Prince ran over him. “Get in the car!” he yelled. “Get in the car!” as his crew finished off the rest of them. “You’re lucky,” Prince told Asia. “You could have been killed.”

“That’s the nature of the business we are in,” Asia said, looking him straight in the eyes without blinking.

“What would I have told Aisha?” he asked, and they both laughed.

“No man can resist a piece of pretty ass,” she told him.

“That’s keeping it one hundred,” Prince replied.

\

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Prince called out for Ray, Kareem, and Kwan. “Kwan, we’re out. We have work to put in.”

“I am sending Asia,” Aisha said. “She is going along to watch your backs.”

The men got hooded up and loaded their weapons. Then they loaded up into three black on black Navigators with tinted windows. As they were driving along, everybody was wearing black, black ski masks and hats. Everyone was rechecking their automatic weapons and ammo. Prince had a few grenades. He passed them out for extra killing power. Then he pulled out a remote control.

They ride into the Bronx, to the danger zone first. Prince pulled up around University Avenue. He sent Rae Kwan and his men to the Forrest Projects on Tinton Avenue. Prince surrounded the block on University. As he had suspected, a crew was out there selling dope and coke in front of the projects. The night was deathly silent. Danger filled the air. Project window lights were on. People were watching television, unaware of what was about to happen. Customers were copping their drugs coming and going without a care in the world on their way to get high. Some were rushing away, not paying attention to anything, except the drugs in their hands and the thrill they hoped to experience. The crew of the Spanish cats mixed with a few brothers. They acted like nothing had happened. Music from the radio was playing hip-hop music. Prince had Asia driving. No one suspected a thing. She drove around the block again, taking notice of the people around and who was who. The lookouts were not paying serious attention to the female driving a Navigator.

“Hey, ma!” one of them yelled. “We have what you want!” he yelled and grabbed his crotch.

“Too small!” Asia yelled back. “You’re too short to ride this ride, baby boy!”

The back windows slowly rolled down, and the sunroof opened, but it was too late for them to react. As Ray pointed his automatic out of the window, the Spanish guy yelled, “Oh, shit!”

Prince popped out of the sunroof, too.

“This is from Black Sunday, bitches!” he yelled, and guns started blazing.

Bodies started falling to the ground, screaming in pain. Prince threw a grenade into one of the cars parked with three people inside, smoking weed. The explosion made a loud noise, breaking several car windows and tearing apart the bodies of the gunmen. Blood and guts flew out. Alarms started sounding, and the earth shook from the explosion. It was like Viet Nam in this small hood tonight. The police received a call that all hell had broken loose on University Avenue, and like any other incident in the hood, they reacted slowly because getting there and rendering aid was not a chief concern of theirs. It was only those niggers and Germans killing themselves again.

Asia backed up the SUV, and Prince burst another round. Money and blood were running into the streets, down to the curbs, and into the drains. One of the young men tried running into the project building. Asia aimed and caught him directly in the head. His brains came spilling out onto the ground and the grass, which turned red with blood. One of his sneakers fell off, showing a hole in his sock. Then Asia sped off toward the Bronx Expressway into the night and on to the next spot. As they are driving away, you could hear the cries and screams back off in the distance. You could see cars ablaze.

Prince called ahead to the other vehicles parked along Tinton Avenue, next to the private house across the street from the Forrest Projects. In the dark, Rae Kwan was holding up his binoculars and spotted men racing to their cars. They had been alerted by phone. Prince told his men, “Hit ’em hard now before they can gather and prepare.”

Rae Kwan sped out from their position, lights off as they came in closer. He turned on his bright lights, blinding the young Spanish crew. They tried to put up their hands to prevent the lights from blinding them. They put their hands over their eyes to block out the bright glare of the high beams, and then the sound of automatic weapons firing broke out. The men tried to scatter for cover, but they were caught in the crossfire. Ghost blasted one of the young hustlers as he attempted to run in front of him. When the blast hit him, he was knocked off his feet, taking off half of his shoulder. Flesh and bone were torn from his shoulder. As he fell, he pissed in his pants from the blast and the shock hitting him.

King Tone’s crew had underestimated Black Sunday’s response. They were celebrating a false victory prematurely, and now it was payback time. The police knew the Forrest Projects were a red zone, so they were not in a hurry to invade no man’s land. That part of the hood was another Viet Nam.

The sergeant said, “Let the niggers and spics kill themselves!”

If it was in Midtown or on Pleasant Avenue, it would have been an immediate response to shots fired. Instead, they had allowed terror to reign. A few of the Death Squad were experienced from having fought in Desert Storm. They felt intoxicated from the blood bath they were laying down. Smoke came out of the barrels of their weapons. Rae Kwan’s team jumped back inside of their vehicles and sped off.

Rae Kwan met up with Prince on Boston Road, heading eastwards toward Chino’s spot. Chino was another one of King Tone’s soldiers. He was his top man and brother. They missed him on University, so they set out to catch him near Sound View, near the Bruckner Expressway. They had a little shack over there near the gas station. He often took hookers and strippers up there for entertainment. The perfect spot to catch a trick was on Hunt’s Point.

When Prince and his team pulled up, they didn’t see Chino’s car, so they parked down the block in the darkest area of the block, so they would not be noticed. Asia got out and walked to the corner. The crew saw her and yelled toward her. She was dressed in the tightest fitting stretch pants she had with a black Sean John V-neck sweater, showing off the top part of her breasts with a small rose tattoo.

Prince sat in the car, laughing. Like ants to honey, he thought.

Just then, Chino pulled up, and his headlights flashed on Asia. “Damn!” he said while exiting the car. “What’s up, chica?”

“What’s up with you, papi?” she replied. She knew him from the photo Aisha had shown her. “You going out, papi?” she asked.

“Oh, you’re in the business?” he replied.

“Sure. Now, are we going out? Time is money, papi,” Asia answered.

“Slow down, chica. Money is no problem. See,” he said as he pulled out a knot.

“Oh, you must be the man,” Asia said and smiled.

“Step up to my place, pretty lady,” he said in broken English. He patted Asia’s ass.

Prince thought, Jamal was right. Pussy will kill you every time, if you let it. Prince signaled the team from the other direction into action. They set out together in slow motion, so as not to attract too much attention. Asia was standing on the second-floor landing. Suddenly the lights came on. Chino turned to see what was going on. Asia whipped out her .38. He heard a click, and that was the last thing he ever saw or heard.

The crew was startled by the swiftness of her actions and attempted to run over, seeing Chino collapse in front of t