#because I would kill to just be able to tag people like I used to and throw up headcanons

[carpkoinobori]

[⟢] cop car — karina x reader

[𖤐] 1/1 [please be aware this is all fiction! none of this is real and idols behavior is not accurately represented.]

song(s): cop car - mitski | no te pido mas - helenita vargas | de oro - la familia andre | la murga - willie colón | la cuchilla - las hermanas calle

summary: you grew up desperate and made your way to the top, even started working for DAS. but your first assignment shouldn’t have been this— they sent you to die. your body lived, though. you didnt.

pairing: patrón!karina x halcón!reader (also x teniente!giselle)

tags: angst, like horrible angst, toxic and I mean Very Toxic yuri, major character death, implied sexual content, this is DARK, set in 1970-90’s colombia, kind of ambiguous but happy ending? reader is lowk stupid and a bop

wc: 10.9k

cw: karina is horribly manipulative, cartels, guns, selling, making, and use of drugs, use of weapons, murder, bombs, death, etc. this is about the colombian cartel ok shit is fucked.

ex: before there’s any outrage I AM COLOMBIAN. all information is acquired through primary sources (ex: family who literally lived through it). most info will be accurate, but my family specifically lived in medellín, calí, and barranquilla. this is set in bogotá. apologies for any city-based in accuracies.

a/n: this is for you aettudae my #1 ❤️

1964, Cundinamarca, Colombia Local time: 1:00 A.M. Location: a small town in Soacha, Cundinamarca, Colombia Objective: . . .

You were born on the outskirts of the city. Bogotá, the capital— the inside was rich, used to be filled with tourists, big buildings and fancy cars. The outside was él pueblo, where you’d wake up at three in the morning, walk to the nearest bus stop, which was probably a few kilometers away, take the buses that never ran on time with the rest of the exhausted men and women heading to work— work for rich people that ran the city till nightfall, get on another bus, and walk a few kilometers home, every day, constantly, while getting paid barely enough to support your family.

That was if you didn’t get robbed, or blown up in the middle of the city, of course— political unrest stemming from La Violencia had made FARC, and the cartel had begun to ramp up production and organization, planting car bombs under public buses and cars. The country was rife with bombings and gang violence till the late 90’s.

But right now, it was in the very early morning.

You would be born in 1964 to a poor family living in Soacha, Cundinamarca, Colombia, right on the outskirts of Bogotá. Your mother would be killed in 1970. Your father would be killed en la cantina, at night, in 1972.

You had been working since 12, anyway. Being told of your pathetic father’s death by a police officer who clearly did not care was when it was decided— you would not die in this town. You would make a name for yourself.

You were right, of course. You did make a name for yourself— you took down one of the most prominent cartel leaders in the country.

Or, at least, that’s what the media thought.

LA VERDAD DE LO QUE PASÓ EN 1993 —————————————————————— THE TRUTH OF WHAT HAPPENED IN 1993.

1985, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 2:00 P.M. Location: Departamento Administrativo de Seguridad | Administrative Department of Security (DAS) HQ Objective: Enter the meeting

You made it into DAS at 21.

Really, it was probably just because the high-rank workers felt bad for you. They understood— a girl from the outer part near Bogotá, no parents— you just wanted to make the country better for people like you.

You were given small jobs like paperwork and editing documents, until now. They were calling you in for your first meeting. Despite your usually serious nature, you couldn’t help a bubble of excitement. You’d finally be able to help like you’d always wanted.

which is why it was confusing why everyone was so somber when you walked in.

“Good morning,” you greeted, taking a seat.

“Good morning, y/n,” replied the woman who headed the ground-team. All your coworkers around her looked solemn, and you stared at them all puzzled.

“Your first assignment will be to infiltrate a specific branch of the Bogotá cartel— we fear they might be working with either FARC or plan to merge with another faction, and they’re already quite dangerous as it is— we don’t need more of them,”

the room was silent. You knew what this was— your first year on the job with barely any training. They were sending you to die, just to get some information.

You sat up straight, squaring your shoulders. You would get the information to help your people. You would live.

“I understand,” you replied, with a nod, standing to collect your file.

The woman handing it to you leaned in, a pained look in her eyes “Perdón,”

1985, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 10:54 P.M. Location: Una cantina Objective: Scout an in to the “organization”

The woman in charge of the specific section of the widespread cartel that was causing so much destruction frequented a specific bar. You had been given her file— she was beautiful, with dark hair and pale skin, but she didn’t seem to be colombian. It didn’t really matter, to you— you weren’t here to ask her why she’d made these choices— you needed to infiltrate one of the largest cartels in Bogotá, on your first job.

you sighed, your head in your hands, the bartender giving you a cursory glance. The place was seedy, filled with alcoholics and sex-workers, as well as probably cartel members, which is why you were here.

You sat up, looking around. It was said Karina frequented this bar. You prayed she’d show up, making the sign of the cross.

God delivered— she walked in, with two other people you didn’t quite recognize— one had dark hair, as well, with big eyes, although her face was serious. The other was lithe, thin— her hair was shorter, and lighter in color, more similar to a brown.

You knew what you’d have to do to start getting information. It made you feel a little sick— a part of you, though, was grateful Karina was so beautiful. Her smile was cocky and smug, that of someone who knew she was untouchable. She made conversation with her two accompanies, talking and laughing and drinking. You waited for an hour or so, that she was now most definitely more than tipsy.

you walked over, wearing a short, tight black dress that let you fit the bill of another profession, looking at her through half lidded eyes.

another thing about the cartel. if they wanted a girl, they’d have her. The club was a dangerous place, the bar was a dangerous place— she’d seen a man get shot at a hamburger cart. The cartel was ruining the country.

you pushed down your sudden wave of resentment, focused on flirting with Karina. Her friend, the long haired girl, stared at you for a long time, scrutinizing. You wouldn’t know what that meant, for a while.

Karina grinned, tilting her head. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“I don’t see why not,” you smiled, voice practiced to be smooth and flirty. You didn’t drink, usually, but you needed the courage.

She handed you a shot of aguardiente. It was dry and burned your throat, but it was good. You made conversation. “What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” You smiled, putting a hand on her arm. “Seems a bit.. dirty,”

Karina smiled, predatorily, teeth glinting in the low yellowed light. “Just trying to relax. You don’t seem like the type of girl to frequent this place. Why are you here?” She asked back.

“Oh, just.. trying to have a little fun,” you replied, lowly, voice ghosting over her ear. She seemed to like that answer.

“Yeah? Why don’t you come home with me, then?”

Your smile widened, although your eyes with still half lidded, touches fleeting. You still played your part.

“I will,”

you ended up going home with Karina. It took months to get her to trust you, but you had finally managed to get her to let you start working. All it took was a sob-story, a fake name, and she allowed you to work in her jurisdiction.

and so began the first objective: names. You needed names.

1985, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 4:33 P.M. Location: currently, a safehouse for the cartel Objective: Find the key members of the cartel

Karina had a home, of course, a large one— you had seen parts of the inside many a time. Of course, they also had some warehouses where they kept goods, where some of the members could crash for a night. You usually stayed with Karina, following her orders.

Some of the members used fake names. You had managed to catch onto one— Ning Yizhou, or NingNing. It was kind of stupid to put part of your real name in your fake name, but plenty of members didn’t use false names at all. You supposed it was just because they didn’t have much to hide.

The name was quietly recorded into your notebook— in code, of course, specifically pigpen-cipher, although you mixed it in with a few different things, referencing dice code as well to make it more confusing— the members of the organization sometimes forgot to call out their chosen names for each other, slipping up. You didn’t mind, though, it made your life easier.

The group had a whole network across Bogotá, planning to move into Medellín, which you felt was not a good idea, but had said nothing.

at one point, Karina brought you all out to eat at a very nice restaurant. You had become a favorite of sorts, for her. She didn’t suspect a thing, thank god.

They began to make small talk, conversations imbued with remarks about the ‘business’, people causing problems, supply and demand, and those annoying Americans.

the waiter came, and everyone quieted.

”Una cerveza, porfa,” Karina was first.

“Dame un refresco, por favor,” Giselle.

You felt something.. off. Obviously, Giselle wasn’t colombian. None of these four women were. But they all learned Spanish here. None of them really spoke Spanish beforehand. Giselle was speaking very.. correctly. Or, at-least, not using slang from colombia. Had she learned Spanish in Mexico? Castellano? Was she part of another gang?

you hadn’t noticed it was your turn to order with all the thoughts running through your mind. You looked at the waiter, glancing at Giselle.

“Si me haces el favor, una gaseosa,”

Giselle didn’t seem fazed by it. but something was off about her. Something was very, very off.

“Karina,” you called, walking into her office. She seemed to be writing something down. Most likely something about funds or money. She did have people in the banks to clean her money for her, but she didn’t like others running her finances. Too much of a chance for embezzlement. A part of you liked she was smart with her business.

“Winter told me you called for me?” You murmured, leaning against the side of her desk, tilting your head, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Ah, yes,” she affirmed, turning in her chair to you. “I have a job I need you to complete. You’ll be going with Winter,” she informed. “It’s nothing that difficult. You’ll both be going on some runs. It’ll just be delivering a few.. products, to a contact. It’ll be a long drive, maybe a few hours. She’ll come get you at four in the morning, exactly,”

Your face stayed carefully blank, but you plastered a content smile onto it. “Of course, I’m glad to be of any help. Speaking of help, Karina, you seem a little stressed..” you smiled wider, voice imbued with a sultry tone.

Karina was honestly a bit foolish. Smart with money, bad with people. Perfect for you.

She still suspected nothing, you thought, as she kissed you, hungrily.

the night ended with her paperwork left unfinished, and you asleep in her bed.

Winter was probably not going to be happy.

Winter was waiting outside the room for you, arms crossed and leaning on the wall. You had dressed into something casual— just jeans and a shirt. You glanced over at her with a blank expression. “What do we need to deliver?”

She seemed to be thinking, before pushing off the wall, and beginning to walk. You followed.

“Guerrilla wants some weapons. We’re just there to deliver,” she muttered, cigarette hanging half out of her mouth, unlit. You made your way to the car, getting in the passenger, the supplies in the back. “It’ll be a long drive up the mountain. Let’s try not to get stopped, yeah?” She muttered, starting the ignition.

You drove in silence, for a bit. The humidity of the air was starting to get to you. You hated the heat.

Winter didn’t talk to you, much. You didn’t think she liked you. You were pretty sure it was because she believed you weren’t worthy to be in the gang— you were just Karina’s plaything.

you didn’t really care what she thought, though. You had a job to do.

after a few hours, you had made it sufficiently up the mountain to the trade-off point. You stepped out of the car.

It was still foggy, from the rain and the altitude. You almost felt a bit lightheaded— but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. The plants and mosquitos were certainly bothersome, but you said nothing. Helping Winter lug up all the weapons was definitely hard— you weren’t very strong. Winter stared at you in annoyance, mumbling curses, most likely about you, under her breath.

the trade off was successful, but then, yet again, you had to make your way down the mountain with duffel bags of money. It was heavy. Putting it away in the trunk was simple enough. You collapsed back into the passenger, wiping the sweat from your forehead. You felt gross.

“Why was that so heavy?” You muttered, under your breath. Winter closed the door of the driver’s side.

“It’s not that heavy, you’re just weak,” she spat, annoyed. “You made us take an extra half hour. You’re not efficient,” she continued.

“It’s hardly my fault, Winter! This was my first job, I don’t-”

“I don’t know why Karina thought it’d be a good idea to let you help, you’re absolutely shit at it,” she retorted, acidly. “The only thing you’re good at is being her whore,” she cursed, as a snide closing remark.

You turned to her as she drove. You may be making sacrifices to get information, but Winter had no idea what you were working towards. It was an insult to your pride. Yet, you couldn’t think of a retort.

“I’ll work harder,” you muttered. “I want to be useful,”

she scoffed, but at least you said you’d try. She still didn’t like you, though. “Face it, sweetheart,” she began. “You’re not cut out for this life,”

When you arrived back to the warehouse, Ningning spotted Winter before you. You were taking some of the bags out, but could still here from the inside.

“Kim Minjeong! What took you so long?” She chided.

Winter rolled her eyes with a scoff. “Quiet down, Ning. Karina’s toy isn’t supposed to know our names until she proves herself. And anyway, she’s nearly useless. She’s the reason I took longer,”

you obviously pretended not to hear as you hauled money bags inside.

Two names down. Two to go.

Giselle and Karina were two harder to find out then the other two. You were sure with enough time, Karina would tell you her real name. She seemed on the verge of it, anyway, with how much she wanted to hear it fall from your lips.

Giselle, though.. you had no contact with her. She was always off, managing distribution or making sure people stayed in line. You never saw her around much.

but slowly, you began to become part of the group. You mostly helped on small runs, with either Winter or Ning. Ning didn’t really care what name you called her, writing it off as semantics that didn’t matter. Winter, of course, took herself very seriously, so you continued to have to address her formally. She was such a pain, but honestly, you didn’t mind much.

what you had to focus on now, most of all, was getting Karina to trust you.

that came in the form of another run. Although this time, it went so, so wrong.

You were meant to drop off a shipment near Medellín. You didn’t think anything would happen, really— the mountains were a bit far out from Bogotá, and it was closer to the border anyway.

You had been given a gun. It was handed to you by Ning a few weeks prior, under the orders of Karina. You knew how to use one, and no one asked why.

the drive there was mostly silent. Winter still wasn’t very warm to you, yet, she didn’t hate you. You had begun to earn your place, and she respected the effort, if anything.

You drove, and the closer you got to the warehouse, the more dread washed into your bones. “Winter,” you called, under your breath. “I think we’re being watched,”

“We’ve been down this route a million times, y/n. We’re fine, no one would-”

a gunshot rang out through the silence.

It missed Winter by a centimeter, hitting the windshield. You cursed the fact these jeeps didn’t have roofs or side-door windows. Minjeong sped up, of course— if she braked they’d fire again. It was all a blur, from there. You got out of the car, your back against the corrugated metal of the drop off point’s doors. You stared around you, pointing at an old building. “There, Winter- it’s a-”

“Snipers,” she finished, eyes wide with panic. “Hijueputa! I fucking knew we should’ve stayed away from Medellín-”

“No fucking time for that, Winter, get down-”

bullets cut through the air. You dragged Winter behind the Jeep’s metal body, looking over it and shooting wherever the bullets rained from.

there was maybe three people, four, even. Winter focused on the right, you focused on the left. You only had a pistol on you, but luckily you had enough rounds. You aimed straight at one man’s head— it was a straight shot, and you saw the blood spew out from his forehead. It was a mess of blood and bits of brain as far as you could see, his body slumping over the sandbags where he was hiding. They turned red, quickly.

You peeked over the jeep, again, about to shoot the second man on the left when—

a sharp pain was felt in your right shoulder. The force of it sent you nearly falling back, but you caught yourself. You looked straight ahead.

the sniper.

You were panicking and filled with adrenaline— you set the gun on the other man, watching him rise slowly, and—

straight into the neck, blood rushed out of the wound, and you heard a disgusting gargling noise. Blood, in some areas, was highly pressurized— it would shoot out like a fountain.

Winter had managed to shoot the sniper, finally, which was a miracle considering the distance. Right now, you didn’t care about the logistics of how, all you knew was that this was a trap. More people were coming. “Winter, we have to go,” you demanded, looking over at her.

She was bleeding from her thigh and side. Fucking hell.

you shoved her into the passenger seat, ignoring the warmth you could feel trickling down your shoulder, the way it hurt to move your arm. You started the car, and drove straight out of there. You drove as fast as you could, making it back in just around two hours and a half. You had tied your jacket around Winter’s leg, and her own around her side, the other girl groaning in pain throughout the ride. “Ya, Winter, cállate!” You spat, stressed and frazzled. “You’re gonna be fine, you’re gonna be okay-” you continued, clenching your jaw to not scream from the burning in your shoulder.

When you made it back, you stumbled out of the car, glass shards all over the hood, opening the doors. “Ning,” you called, knowing she’d always be near, most likely cleaning some blood after an interrogation or packing some coke. “Ning, it was a trap- help, please, Winter got shot,” you continued, calling out desperately. Ning appeared a few seconds after, eyes wide, rushing to the car. She helped Winter inside, laying her on the couch. She had lost a bit of blood, but the bullet hadn’t hit a major artery. You knew the bullet shouldn’t have hit her heart, either. Ning looked at you, seriously. “Go get Karina. And Giselle,”

you did as told.

you rushed to Karina’s office, the older woman looking at you with a bored expression, gaze lingering on your shoulder.

She didn’t ask any questions, just raised an eyebrow. “It was a trap,” you replied, panting, ignoring your own bleeding shoulder. “Winter.. she needs- she needs a hospital,”

Karina looked unsurprised. “Oh, yes,” she replied, holding your gaze. “How unfortunate of an event,”

Her words were.. slow. Almost mocking or sarcastic— you didn’t have time to decipher what they meant. She brushed past you, making her way to Winter, calmly

“Ning, how bad is it?” She questioned, leaning over the other girl’s body. There was no hint of worry or concern on her face, just curiosity.

“Not fatal, but serious. It didn’t hit the femoral artery, but I suspect it either fracture or grazed her femur. For the side wound, I don’t think it hit anything major, maybe a rib, but no organs. Even so, she needs medical attention now, Karina— speaking of, where is Giselle?” She continued, exasperated and stressed.

“She should be on her way. She was coming back from a job, already. She should be here soon,” was Karina’s nonchalant reply.

you decided that she couldn’t really be waited on, and Karina was clearly unhelpful.

“Do you guys have an operating table? You know what— get me a table. Just get me a table,” you demanded, reaching for some surgical gloves.

They laid Winter on the table, turning on all the lights. You positioned a lamp right over her, and stared at the bullet wounds.

there were only 2. You could do this, you had been taught first aid. This couldn’t be that hard.

You began to clean the wounds with running alcohol and cotton balls, trying to wipe away the blood that wouldn’t stop, and clean the wounds. You had grabbed a pair of tweezers, planning on just yanking out the bullet yourself when Giselle slammed the doors open, staring at the scene in shock.

“What the fuck are you all doing?” She shrieked, rushing over and moving you away. “Do you have any surgical training at all? You could kill her!” She exclaimed.

“Well, you weren’t exactly coming very quickly,” you retorted, now insulted. “I’m sure it’s not that hard to remove a bullet, just take it out-”

“Are you an idiot?” She exclaimed, shocked. “Get out of the way, this is why I’m here. I’ll deal with this,”

she pushed you away, putting on her own pair of blue surgical gloves, and a mask. She moved the lamp to the wound on Winter’s chest, inspecting it. She took hold of the tweezers, cleaning the wound once again with an alcohol wipe— but there was no time for painkillers. She extracted the bullet carefully, holding Winter down so she wouldn’t squirm and hurt herself, followed by her stitching up the wound. It took around twenty minutes for the bullet hole to be stitched up.

she repeated the same process with the second, before cleaning the wounds, again, and beginning to wrap them with gauze. Winter looked pale, and in pain, but she tried to show no sign of it on her face. Once Giselle finished with her, she turned over to you.

“Sit,” she instructed, voice flat and providing no room for judgement.

Karina had shrugged, disappearing back to her office, while Ning had left to go help Winter, leaving you alone with Giselle. She removed your shirt, unclipping your bra with practiced ease, and inspecting the wound. It had started to really hurt, now, the adrenaline having worn off.

“Don’t you have painkillers?” You asked, petulantly.

“No,” she muttered back. “You can handle it. You’re part of a gang, now, there’s going to be pain,” she reminded, harshly.

She cleaned the wound with alcohol, a hiss leaving your mouth at the sting. Your breath hitched when the tweezers made their way into the wound on your shoulder, clenching your jaw in pain. Giselle looked at you, coldly. “Don’t scream,” were her final words before she removed the bullet, cleanly, in one piece.

you gasped in pain, breathing heavily as the wound began to bleed again. Giselle held your other shoulder, keeping you in place as she sewed it shut, cleaning it again, and wrapping it with gauze. “Fuck,” you hissed, wincing at the sting of alcohol.

“Stop squirming,” she growled, and it made you sit still, albeit breathing hard and cursing under your breath. She handed you two pills— painkillers— and a glass of water, after the fact.

“Don’t take baths, you’ll reopen the wound, make sure to shower. Someone will have to help you redress the wound and make sure it doesn’t get infected. Karina isn’t good with wounds, and Ning will handle Winter. I’ll keep an eye on you myself,” she muttered, and it felt more like a threat than anything.

you took the pills, drinking the water to wash them down.

you glanced over to her.

“What are you, a doctor?” You asked, curious albeit a bit sarcastic.

“Yes, technically, I am,” she responded back, flatly. “Worked in el campo for my residency, saw the Guerrilla, saw the way people were living— got into this business, just as it started. That’s all,” she finished, succinctly.

you felt like the story was too practiced. Too simple. You began to suspect that something was off with Giselle— something most definitely was. The way she was never with the rest of the group, her detachment, her strange accent— she was suspicious, and it occurred to you that if you could reveal whatever it was, you’d secure yourself a spot in the gang and officially cement your place, as well as weakening the structure and trust of the organization. It was perfect. This was a great chance, an amazing opportunity. You were sure to take it.

That is, of course, if everything went according to plan.

(It never did)

You couldn’t shake the feeling that Karina had something to do with this. She seemed so dismissive, so.. unimpressed. What was it? Why was she so cold?

You sat at the edge of Winter’s bed, the other girl listening to your ramblings and theories half-heartedly, dazed. Ning was leaning against the wall, the both of you speaking lowly, so as to not be heard.

“She was testing you,” Ningning informed, after mulling on it for a bit.

“What?” You blinked, the words like a shock to your system. “She sent one of her men— along with the newest recruit— into a trap, with only two pistols against a sniper and three other men, all to test.. no, why would she do that? She wouldn’t endanger her own members,” you dismissed, shaking your head.

“She would,” Ning informed, flatly. “Karina’s our boss, yes, we respect her. But she didn’t get to where she is by playing nice,” she reminded. “Karina will do whatever she has to do to ensure her business, first and foremost. That is what is the most important to her. Plus, the government has been far too close to us, lately,” Ning scoffed, shaking her head with her arms crossed. “She’s probably become more careful— which isn’t good if you’re new. You’re probably in for it,” The dark haired girl guessed, meeting your gaze. “I wouldn’t be surprised if we got dragged into it, too. We’re disposable. Just pawns in this game,” she continued, pushing off the wall and reaching the door, hand resting on the handle. “But I hope you make it out,” she added. “You’ve been helpful,” was her final compliment, before she exited.

You stared at your hands. You had thought— genuinely— that Karina was kind, maybe misunderstood. You really thought you were smarter than her.

you now realized that Karina was extremely intelligent. She didn’t care what sacrifices had to be made— she’d protect what was hers, what she’d built. Worst of all, she might even know you were an informant already, she might just be playing with you.

you had walked right into the lion’s den, without even knowing. All the while, you thought you were one step ahead, that you were in control.

your head fell to your hands, a choked sob leaving your body.

you were going to die here.

Every single one of you was going to die here.

1985, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 6:25 P.M. Location: currently, a safehouse for the cartel Objective: Find the key members of the cartel

it had been a week since the incident. Winter had given you her real name— Kim Minjeong. Why? She said you had earned it, after saving her life.

Things had been tense, to say the least. Ning was considerably angry with Karina, which the older girl did not like. Giselle had been speaking to Karina more often, yet, she was also out the same amount of time.

Minjeong had told you that there had been talk of working more closely with the guerrilla, and that information worried you. The guerrilla was already enough trouble on its own— with the resources from the cartel, it’d be a horrible force for the government.

It was early November, already, and Giselle had seemed beyond tense, pacing whenever you caught a glimpse of her in her room, always thinking to herself, it seemed.

she was changing your bandages, now, a distant look on her face. The movements were practiced, almost like she was working on autopilot.

“Hey,” you called. “Giselle,”

“What?” She responded, flatly. “What is it?”

“Why do you seem so mad lately?” Was your question. She kept a blank, annoyed look on her face. She continued to clean your wound, but eventually responded. “Nothing. Just some negotiations that have been going in circles for days, now. Don’t worry about it,” she dismissed, stepping back once she had finished, moving to get some gauze.

“Really?” You hummed. “Anything to do with the guerrilla?”

Giselle stared, clenching her jaw. She began to bandage you, but spoke lowly. “Don’t talk about them. You have no idea what they’re like. You shouldn’t know any of this, anyway. I’m sure Karina wouldn’t like that,” she added, dangerously.

After the events that transpired on your last run, you had grown wary of Karina. You tried not to make it obvious, but everyone could tell, and the girl delighted in it. She loved the power and control, of course. Her smile was unsettling.

you quieted, after that comment. Giselle finished bandaging you, stepping away. “Stay out of things that don’t concern you,” she advised, but took a second to add something on. “Don’t worry too much. I don’t think she’ll kill you,” Giselle paused, a smile blooming on her face, “Yet,” she added, walking out.

Not very comforting in the slightest, but you should figure out what you could while you were here. You sighed, laying back on the bed.

Giselle was definitely lying about something— you just needed to find out what.

The guerrilla had led a siege on el Palacio de Justicia. It lasted two days, with many deaths. You saw the current news on it, even contacted your people in DAS about it— they had strictly warned you not to unless information was found, but those were your people. They could’ve died.

Giselle watched the news over your shoulder, or listened to it while she fixed your bandages. Minjeong had been getting better, too, her leg much better. Ning watched as well, her arms crossed.

Karina didn’t comment on it. Almost like she knew it would happen.

a suspicious amount of money was given to the guerilla by Karina a few weeks prior. You felt a shudder run through you, which Giselle responded to with a bark of “Stop squirming”.

later, Karina called you into her office.

“Y/n,” she smiled, tilting her head. “You seem.. on edge. May I ask why?” She was being overly formal, and it unsettled you.

“Ever since the attack, I keep feeling like it’ll happen again,” you began, rambling— it wasn’t a lie, per se, but it wasn’t the whole truth. The fear in your eyes and shakiness of your movement confirmed that, at least, it was partially true. “Im scared, that they’ll come here, and kill us. I don’t know what to do,”

Karina’s smile stayed in place, as she ushered you to sit down on the couch, there. “Don’t worry, corazón,” she assured, a hand running through your hair. You began to relax— maybe she wasn’t so scary, after all— It was understandable, maybe it wasn’t actually a test, maybe-

“As long as you’re loyal, nothing bad will happen to you,” she continued, hand tightening in your hair. “If you were to sell us out, then, you understand. I couldn’t promise your protection,” her hand strengthening its grip on your hair, speaking into your ear.

“Now, why don’t we get your mind off it?” She offered, looking into your eyes with a faux-sweet expression.

you complied, obviously. Despite the fear, there was a part of you that was drawn to her. She was threatening to kill you if you betrayed her, yet, you still kissed her, desperately.

she kissed back, of course, hungrily and heatedly.

That’s how most of the both of your talks ended, anyway.

1986, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 12:01 AM Location: una discoteca Objective: Find the key members of the cartel

It was 1986, now— had just turned into the new year. You were at a club, celebrating another year alive.

You had no idea where the other three girls went, thoroughly tipsy and entranced with Karina.

Karina was a bad person, you knew this. She was ruthless, and you should be scared of her.

but right now, with her hands on your hips, in the flashing lights of the club, you couldn’t quite remember that.

The two of you stumbled into the quieter, back parts of the club where there were rooms. Karina knew this place better than you, anyway.

it was still loud, and you could barely hear anything. She pressed you against the wall, tugging your hair, beginning to suck and bite at your neck.

she was most definitely drunk, you could tell by the flush to her face and how her words were looser than normal.

You knew you should’ve taken advantage of this, but you couldn’t. Your body felt hot, and instead of finding information, like you should have, you fell right back into Karina like a rat to a glue-trap.

you were pathetic.

and you knew it.

1986, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 2:23 AM Location: a safehouse for the cartel Objective: Find the key members of the cartel

Karina had called you into her office, except this time, Giselle was there.

You were beyond exhausted, but did not complain.

They were both intimidating. Giselle was staring at you, coldly, arms crossed, while Karina had an amused expression on her face, grinning, head tilted into her hand.

“Y/n, I have a job for you,” she called, in a cheery voice.

“It shouldn’t be too hard, but you’ll be working with Giselle from now on. It’ll be good for you,” she continued, standing up and walking towards you. “She’ll keep you safe— won’t you, Gigi?” She asked, almost mockingly, a saccharine expression in her face.

“You’ll have a body by the end of the day. That’s all you want her for, anyway,” Giselle retorted, irritated.

“How great! Come now, y/n, Giselle will explain,” Karina beckoned, quite happy today. Some expansion into the U.S. had gone well, you knew that much, but there was no reason she should be so.. animated.

Karina handed you a semiautomatic pistol, which you stared down at. She then smiled, handing you a small box of bullets. She still kept a smile on her face, remarking, “You know, these are special. They’re hollow point bullets— Ningning made them,”

“What? She made them?” You knew of hollow-point bullets, they weren’t a secret, just uncommon.

“Drill a hole into them, cut an X to make some petals, and there you have it— well, I’d ask Ningning, of course, I’m not a weapons specialist. It’s quite easy,”

“But why? They don’t-”

“Effectiveness. They leave a bigger exit wound, and leave shrapnel inside the body at times,” Giselle interrupted. “In other words, pain. They’re used to inflict pain,”

Karina smiled, sadistic as ever, as she watched Giselle load some rifles.

“Today, we have a few hits to get done,” Giselle informed. “You’ll be coming with me. You know how to shoot a rifle?” She asked, glancing over at your horrified expression.

“No, I-”

“What about a pistol?”

You nodded.

“Perfect!” Karina exclaimed. “You can help with the interrogation, then. Giselle, I’ll meet you at the location. Try not to dirty her too much, hm?” Karina advised, slinking away.

“That’s why she’s so happy?” You asked, in shock. “Because-”

“Because she gets to kill someone? Yeah, that’s why. She’s sick in the head. You knew what you were getting into,”

you stared at Giselle in silence. The other girl was grabbing some sniper-rifle that you had never seen before, and several rounds of ammunition.

she loaded it into the car, and you two began the drive.

you held the pistol in your hands shakily, silent for most of the ride.

once you got to the location, you watched Giselle pray. You had heard of hitmen praying before their job, and you still couldn’t understand. They prayed to God to protect them, yet, they were about to take a life.

“Why are you praying?” You asked, suddenly, acidly. “We’re about to kill people, God wouldn’t-”

“It’s my job,” she interrupted, which was a common occurrence with Giselle. “It’s my job, and I’m just asking Him to keep me alive until it’s over,” she spat, coolly. “You don’t know what I’ve had to do. But you will, soon. So just shut up, will you?” She got out of the car, slamming the door shut. You scrambled after her, and the both of you hauled the equipment up the boarded-up, run-down building, up several flights of stairs, finally beginning to set it up after a few stories, looking down at a busy road.

“Why are we killing him?” You murmured your question, watching as Giselle began to adjust the rifle.

“He owes Karina money, and he won’t pay it. He also stole some of our goods and has been cutting pure cocaine with some other shit, I didn’t really care enough to figure out what. His other friend is the one we’ll be interrogating. He’ll die no matter what he says,” Giselle shrugged, watching the empty street, the morning finally coming through the sky, although the dark, clouded sky blocked the bright sun.

“How long will we be here?”

“However long it takes,”

It turns out that “however long it takes” meant almost eight hours. You were bored to death, yet still terrified. You were about to kill someone. And you had been here, waiting on edge for it to happen, for almost eight hours. You felt like you were going to burst into tears.

“Giselle, how much longer is this gonna take?” You complained, although a bit shaky.

“Trust me, I don’t want to be here either,” she drawled. “But he should be here, soon. He works near here,”

It took maybe another half hour before he appeared. Giselle saw him before you did, obviously— you didn’t even know what he looked like— but she didn’t immediately shoot. Her eyes stared down at him through the scope, her fingers brushing against the trigger. He was wide open, walking slowly without a car in the world. He stopped for a second, someone crossing in front of him—

click.

you heard the gun go off before you looked down.

Giselle had shot him perfectly in the side of the head. You couldn’t see a lot, obviously, you were pretty high up, but you saw enough.

his body crumpled to the ground, immediately, blood pooling around him. People screamed, cars stopped, and they all were looking around frantically trying to find the shooter. Giselle moved the gun and herself away from the window, to the side where they weren’t visible.

“Come on, hurry up— we gotta go,” she urged.

“Hold on, won’t they see us step out of the building? Isn’t this a bad idea?”

“They won’t catch us, there’s too much chaos going down there. Now come on, let’s go,”

The drive to the warehouse was relatively silent.

Giselle was tense, but that wasn’t new. She always was. But she seemed almost.. solemn. Quiet.

you both arrived, stepping out of the car, into the meeting point. Giselle had her own pistol, you also kept yours on hand.

when you entered, there was a man tied there. Giselle tensed when she saw him, but said nothing. You figured it was because of Karina, standing behind him with the same placid, content smile. It was eerie.

“Giselle, Y/n! You’ve made it,” she smiled. “I take it the job went well?”

“It was all fine,” Giselle replied. “Nothing out of the ordinary happened,”

“That’s great, really, it’s good! I’m quite happy today, Y/n, because we have a special guest. I know I said he owed me money— in a way he does— but this is something far more important. He works with the Americans! Isn’t that just amazing?” She continued, happily, waving her gun around in the air as she spoke. “I’m sure we’ll get some good information out of him,”

“So, the both of you, come! Let’s begin,” Karina gestured to the man, in the dim lights.

you figured, well— the show must go on.

The man was tied to a chair, that much was obvious. The floor was concrete, and there were boarded up windows and maybe one or two hanging lightbulbs. It was a bit dark.

the walls were steel, corrugated iron, and it gave a prison-like feel. the man was looking around, wildly, straining against his restraints.

“Hey,” Karina called, walking closer to him.

“You’re going to tell me everything there is to know about those Americans, okay? And then I’ll let you go. As long as you don’t lie,” she assured, pausing. “Now talk,” she demanded.

“They’ve noticed the supply into their country. They’re working on stopping it. They’ve already sent a few agents to infiltrate a few different parts of the cartel—”

“Which ones?” Was her sharp, quick reply.

“Medellín, primarily, but they’ve been looking to Bogotá. I don’t know much more than that, I don’t even know who the agents are, I-”

“Ning!” Karina barked, the dark haired girl appearing out of the dark. She held a pistol in her hand, jaw clenched, staring up at Karina.. defiantly, almost. “Won’t you be a dear and deal with him, for me?”

Ning glanced to the man. His eyes widened, and he began to thrash. “No! I don’t know anything, I swear, I don’t know any agents! I don’t know anything!” He pleaded, desperately. Ning looked away, aiming the gun.

You heard a whispered ‘I’m sorry’, and she made the shot.

Through the head, perfectly center. Ning placed a hand over her mouth, the smell of blood biting and metallic, letting out a choked sob.

Karina looked over at Ning. “Now, Ning-ie, there’s a bus waiting for you outside. You’ll take that back to our meeting point, won’t you? So you won’t get caught?”

Ning nodded, wiping her eyes of tears. She went over to Giselle, they exchanged some words, hugged— she came over to you.

“Y/n.. I’m sorry. There’s no way to get you out, now. Be careful, don’t.. don’t trust anyone, don’t- just.. be careful, okay?” she advised, lowly, hugging you, still crying faintly.

“Ning, what- I don’t understand, why’re you acting like this?”

“You’ll tell Minjeong I’ll miss her, right? I wanted to say goodbye, properly, but.. I didn’t have time. I left a note,” she added, slipping it into your pocket inconspicuously, pulling away from the hug. “Give it to her, for me. You were fun to be around, I’ll miss you too. Don’t lose yourself, stay focused. It was nice to know you, y/n,”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll tell her- I’ll give it to her- Ning, why are you acting like this? What’s going on?”

Ning smiled, laughing wetly, still crying. “You’ll find out, later. You’ll find out..”

Karina walked Ning out of the warehouse. You and Giselle trailed behind, still a few paces away. The bus was parked right outside, filled with people.

Karina hugged Ning, whispered something to her which made Ning clench her fists and cry harder— you don’t know from what.

Ning got on the bus with a smile, crying— though you still didn’t know why— and waved goodbye.

You looked to Giselle, confused, watching the bus continue on, further down the street, already maybe a mile or two away from you. “What was that abou-”

your ears rang. You heard it before it registered.

the bus had exploded.

there was carnage, everywhere. Parts of it had been thrown into different buildings. There were body parts strewn across the street, a crater in the asphalt, fire, along the metal— cars had been crushed, it was now chaos in the streets. You had almost been pushed back from the force, nicking yourself with the small, sharp pieces of metal. Karina was still standing, her suit dusty and filled with ash.

“Karina, what- what did you do?” you cried, confused and distraught yet again, feeling the tears build in your eyes.

Karina cooed, crouching down over you, thumbing the skin under your eye. “Oh, mi amor, don’t cry,” she reassured. “Ning was working with the Americans. The man in the warehouse knew, and was helping her sneak information along our supply chain! Don’t worry, the traitor is gone,” she ran a hand through your now dirty hair, cleaning a cut on your face with her finger. She smiled, pressing a kiss to your cheek, speaking lowly into your ear.

“I’m tired of these Americans trying to ruin my business. They keep putting themselves where they don’t belong. Don’t worry, mi cielo, you’ll be safe as long as you’re loyal to me, and as long as you listen. I know you will. Because you’re trustworthy, aren’t you?” She smiled, looking down at you.

you nodded, dazed. Karina had just killed Ning. Ning was dead. You had to get out of here. You figured hundreds were injured. You had to leave.

Giselle was even farther back, looking at Karina with contempt.

you didn’t notice, though. You were too busy watching the flames dance in the street.

1987, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 9:46 P.M Location: a safehouse for the cartel Objective: Find the key members of the cartel

it had been almost a year since the incident.

ever since Ning died, things had been different. Minjeong had been quieter, and angrier. Everything set her off, she came back covered in blood most of the time. You didn’t want to ask where she’d been— you’d just sit with her, quietly. Sometimes you heard her cry at night.

Giselle had been even more cagey, always out, defensive, on high-alert constantly.

and Karina.. well, you’d been spending a lot of time with Karina. You knew she was bad, you did, but there was something about her. It was just something about her, something that drew you in, and you hated yourself for it.

like right now. You were in her office, again, as she kissed you hungrily, hands gripping your hips in a bruising grasp.

your mind drifted. You reported back to DAS every so often, but you did inform them that you had to be very careful, that your reports would be sporadic. Truthfully, they didn’t event think you’d make it this far, do they were okay with waiting. They seemed to have several informants, anyway.

”y/n,” Karina growled, lowly, sucking and biting harshly at your neck. “You seem distracted. Focus on me, no? You promised you’d help me..” she murmured, almost a pleading sound to her voice. You weren’t stupid, though. Karina didn’t beg, she didn’t plead. This was mocking. You sucked it up, though.

you tried to focus on her, you did, but everything was beginning to get to you. DAS weighed heavily on your mind, and Minjeong’s grief did, too, and Giselle’s odd behavior, her accent, even the way she dressed— she didn’t seem like she was from here. She didn’t seem like she’d been her a long while.

“Y/n,” Karina snapped, annoyed. “Focus, will you? Or maybe you’ll end up like that bastard traitor,” she remarked, acidly, far too much emotion for the situation. Karina had been angrier lately, too. It must be the stress of the betrayal. Surely that’s why— it shook her to her core that there was a rat in her ranks. She had gotten paranoid.

the mention of Ning made you emotional, though. You felt tears prick at your eyes.

she looked down, and let out a laugh. “Oh, I love when you cry, baby,” she grinned, voice rough. “It makes you look so good. But not right now.. maybe in a bit. Stop being such a pussy,” she instructed, to which you nodded shakily.

and like that is how your work went, for a bit.

it wasn’t until late 1988 everything began to change.

Karina had been busy, lately. A lot of men came to her office, ones you didn't recognize and some you did, vaguely, from other meetings.

Karina had been overtly paranoid about informants— It was a miracle she hadn't discovered you, yet— or maybe she had. Maybe she was just waiting for the right time, playing with you, maybe-

"Y/n!" She called, in a sing-song tone.

You entered her office, quietly.

"I need your help for another job. A big one. If you do this, then it'll officially make you a part of us! Isn't that fantastic, baby?"

Karina had her hands on your hips, the same practiced smile she always wore on her face.

"Yes.. fantastic, it really is," you replied, in a murmur. "But what will I be doing?"

"You know the DAS building, here, in Bogotá? Well, amor, we'll be getting rid of it,"

"rid of it?" You tried to school your expression, but the shock and horror was plainly visible on your face. You felt sick.

"Rid of it. As in, you know— the building. I have a few ways to make sure it stays gone for quite a while. It’ll take nearly a year, I predict, but it’ll get done. You’ll be going to a few meetings with Giselle and me to make sure you can help. Is that okay, y/n?” She asked, in a faux-concerned tone. You both knew she wasn’t asking whether or not you’d do it, you had to. It was a rhetorical question. You would say yes, either way.

“Yes. It’s.. it’s fine,” you murmured.

“Good. Now, you can go. I’m sure there’s something for you to do to make yourself useful around here,”

MEETING ONE 1988, Medellín, Colombia Local time: 4:52 P.M. Location: a small town up in the mountains; el campo Objective: Find the key members of the cartel.

Driving with Giselle was really not a good time. The songs on the radio were good, though.

the other girl was so frustrated, for some reason.

“Giselle,” you chanced. “I don’t mean to pry, but seriously— why are you so.. stressed?”

“We’re about to blow up Colombia’s national security headquarters, I think anyone would be stressed,”

You eyed her, not quite convinced.

“You know, anytime we carry out a job you’re so on edge,” you commented. she whipped her head around, knuckles turning white as she gripped the steering wheel.

“Are you accusing me of something, y/l/n?”

“No,” you replied, slowly. “Not at all,”

the meeting took place up in the mountains.

the negotiations were mostly handled by Giselle, but she looked nearly ready to scream.

“We’re paying you what you’ve asked, just give us the supply,” she repeated, voice low.

“I think it’s fair to ask for a little more, linda,”

Giselle was seething. Honestly, these men had rifles, machine guns— you weren’t about to fight them. you took out your pistol.

you pointed it right at the 500kg of dynamite.

“Take the money,” you instructed, eyes wide. You looked crazed, most likely.

they stared at you.

“I said take the FUCKING MONEY! You think I won’t do it? We can add on 130,000 more pesos, but that’s it.”

They agreed.

Giselle was silent, in the car drive. You stared at your hands.

“You would’ve done it,” she murmured.

“I would have,” you agreed, and it came with a sick sense of realization. You would have killed everyone in there, including yourself. You would have done it. Who were you? What had you become?

Giselle laughed, one of the only times you had ever seen her show a positive emotion.

“Oh, God,” she snickered. “You really didn’t think when you signed up for this, huh?” She commented. Your eyes widened, but you schooled them back into place.

no, she couldn’t mean what you thought. She couldn’t.

“Careful, baby,” she hummed. “You don’t wanna become something you can’t come back from,”

well, that’s fucking ominous.

Your next meeting was scheduled in the following weeks. You felt like Giselle was.. watching you. Her gaze never left you, but whenever you looked back, she was always just staring out a window, or at something on the wall. It was unnerving.

The second meeting went smoothly, but ended late. Giselle was driving once again, smoking.

“Do you have another?” You asked, suddenly, glancing at her against the dark backdrop of the night.

“Another what?” She questioned, looking over at you for only a moment, before focusing on the old, pot-hole filled road again.

“A cigarette. And a light,” you clarified, holding out a hand.

“I have a cigarette,” she confirmed, handing you one. “But no light. Sorry,” she shrugged, seemingly unbothered.

“Oh, fuck off Giselle. Just light it with yours,”

She rolled her eyes. “Why should I? Don’t you have a lighter?”

“I didn’t bring my lighter, I didn’t think I needed it,” you shot back.

She sighed, annoyed, but complying. She kept one hand on the wheel, barely glancing at the road, lit cigarette half in her mouth, being held in place by her hand. You kept your own firmly between your lips, not wanting it to fall.

she pressed the lit end to your own, eyes dark, and you couldn’t help but stare into them.

the end finally caught a spark, lighting up, and you both stared for a second more before breaking away.

You took a long drag, averting your eyes from her gaze, glad the dark of the night would hide your blush.

“Thanks,” you muttered, gazing out into the fields.

“Don’t mention it,”

MEETING THREE 1988, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 2:31 A.M. Location: Karina’s office Objective: Find the key members of the cartel.

It happened so very late, and you struggled to stay awake. You felt your eyes closing, but Giselle would push you, and you’d spring back up.

Karina was arguing with a man about the price of the job. She was aggravated, he wasn’t taking the accepted offer.

The meeting had started off very casual— she even offered him some of their supply. You didn’t take any, neither did Giselle, but Karina and the man each did a line, snorting it off the table.

You watched the cross that hung from her neck dangle along the table, occasionally tapping the wood. The other man wore one as well, as did Giselle, as did you— you felt just a bit guilty about it. Hopefully, He’d forgive you for your wrongdoings. Hitmen prayed to God and so did drug lords— as did nuns, priests, politicians— all prayed, all believed. At least, most did. They claimed so.

You were shaken from your thoughts by a loud crash. Karina had pushed the man against the wall, yelling, now— “¡Me estás sacando la piedra!”

Giselle never said anything like that. Come to think of it, she cursed under her breath, you weren’t even sure what language it was. you shouldn’t be thinking of Giselle, though, not when this man seemed like he would die. That shook you out of your stationary position.

you jumped up, rushing towards her. “Karina! Karina, let him go!” You demanded, trying to pull her off. Giselle followed suit, prying her off him. Karina was panting, she looked crazed. Blood trickled out of her nose, and you wondered how much of her supply she was doing.

“You don’t understand,” she growled, clutching her desk. “Just take the money,” she began, again, and the man finally nodded. She practically threw the money at him, watching as he scrambled out. She let out a frustrated sound, slamming her hands on the desk.

“Giselle, get out. Y/n. Stay,” she demanded, not turning around.

Giselle hesitated, for a moment, it was barely noticeable.

but she left.

Karina turned to you, and like so many times before— you were truly, deeply scared. And yet..

you fell right back into her, letting her kiss you, use you, until she was fine again.

1989, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 3:13 A.M. Location: An old, unused road in the mountainside Objective: Find the key members of the cartel.

The meetings happened in quick succession. They took place all throughout the rest of 1988, and into early 1989. It wasn’t until September that things really began to change.

Minjeong was always out. She avoided Karina, and only spoke with Giselle sparsely.

You and Giselle were in the car, currently. The final meeting had just occurred, and the both of you had gotten tired of driving.

you were both just sitting there, with the car off. Giselle spoke, suddenly.

“How do you do it?” She questioned. “How do you put up with her?”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Karina. I just.. sometimes, she’s too much. Especially lately. She’s paranoid,”

“I don’t know, I just-” you couldn’t say it was because it was your job. You couldn’t say it was because a part of you wanted her. You weren’t sure how to even reply to that. “I just do,”

Giselle seemed like she wanted to say something, but she closed her mouth. It was silent till she spoke again. “I don’t understand you. I mean, you’re like me, but.. you’re just so.. different— naive,”

“I am not naive!” You protested, even though you knew very well you were.

“Yes you are! I know you’re- I-” she wasn’t being very coherent, aggravated, fingers flexing like she was antsy.

“I’m what? What am I? Just spit it out, Giselle! I’m tired of-”

She cut you off, kissing you. You were surprised, for a moment, but quickly reciprocated. Her fingers curled in your hair, pulling you closer. You braced yourself on the dash, trying not to touch the wheel or anything else that could move the car.

“You’re so fucking infuriating,” Giselle muttered, pulling you into the backseat with her. “You just have no idea what’s going on, do you?”

You panted, now slightly confused. “What?”

“Nevermind,” she groaned, pulling you closer once again.

She pulled you onto her lap, and you snaked your hands into her hair, tugging at it, blunt nails scratching at her scalp.

You didn’t really feel bad about it, is what you’d realize later, when you were driving back in silence.

You kind of wanted her to do it again.

You and Giselle didn’t talk about anything that had happened. Partly because you didn’t want to, and partly because you feared what Karina would do if she found out. The weeks leading up to what you found to be a tragedy were tense. Minjeong was out more often than not, as was Giselle. You couldn’t warn anyone, because Karina had such a close eye on you, lately. She just wouldn’t leave you alone.

December came quicker than you would wish.

It was night when you heard Minjeong speaking to Karina.

“Jimin, you can’t do this,” she murmured, lowly, voice laced with an unseen anger.

“Why are you so tense, Minjeong? I thought you always agreed with me..” she sighed, and you could hear her walking through the thin walls.

“I can’t let you kill so many people, it’s just- it’s insane! You’re being irrational— you’ve snorted half of your own fucking supply!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Karina— Jimin, you’ve learned— spat, and the unmistakable sound of a slap resounded through the warehouse, Karina breathing hard. You heard a struggle, and panting. “I’ll kill you, Minjeong, don’t think I won’t. I’ve kept you around out of pity— and of course, you’ve always been so obedient. Why are you so hellbent on rebelling now?” She whined, in a mocking manner.

“You killed Ningning— how am I supposed to be loyal to someone who kills her own men?” Minjeong replied, voice breathy, as if she couldn’t breathe.

There was silence.

“You’ll learn. Now, leave here. If you argue against me again, I’ll feed you to the wolves,” Jimin growled, and the sound of Minjeong hitting the floor was heard all throughout the warehouse. “Get out of my sight,”

1989, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 11:13 A.M. Location: a safehouse for the cartel Objective: Find the key members of the cartel.

Karina was, and always will be, a mystery.

you had found out now that Karina’s name was Yu Jimin. You had asked Minjeong, shortly after what happened. You went to sleep, and awoke to the sound of the radio, blaring.

“El edificio del Departamento Administrativo de Seguridad ha sido bombardeado.”

you woke up with a start. You knew it’d happen. But there was a sense of true hatred, in that moment.

you walked out of your room.

you walked into Karina’s office.

“Yu Jimin,”

she whipped around, smile morphing into a frown in seconds.

“How do you know that name?”

“Minjeong,”

She saw the gun in your hand.

“Oh, won’t you put that down?”

You stared at her.

She smiled, then.

“You know, I knew you worked for them,” she began, nonchalantly.

“What?”

all that work, all that secrecy— it meant nothing, in the end? She knew, she always knew?

“I saw you searching for our names. You were just so.. you seemed like you’d work for the government. And then I found that little phone you had! It’s been disconnected for years. They haven’t received a single message,”

You stared, still, dumbfounded. Suddenly, this made it all the worse. She did this, forced you to help— knowing? You raised the pistol.

“Giselle,” Karina called, and the other girl appeared a few seconds later. She stared at the scene in front of her, looking between the two of you.

“Get rid of her for me, will you?” Karina dismissed, shrugging off the threat.

Giselle slowly took out her own gun. She pointed it at you, and yet—

“Yu Jimin, you’re under arrest for drug trafficking, terrorism, murder, smuggling, and-”

“What? What are you talking about?” Her eyes widened, as she shot up to her feet, gripping at her desk.

“My name is Aeri Uchinaga. I work for the FBI-”

“It was you!” She shrieked, nearly mad. “You were the mole? But you- you’ve killed in my name! Won’t you be implicit?”

“I’ll be pardoned by the state, most likely,” she informed.

it all made sense now. The strange accent, the tray she was so tense, constantly— you were a bit proud of yourself for noticing all the off things about her, but now was not the time.

you stared at Karina. You wanted to shoot her.

“She could leave,” you pointed out.

Giselle glanced over at you. “She could,”

you aimed at her leg. Just a bit off from the major artery in the thigh.

a click.

The aftermath was severe. The building was destroyed, most of your department had dissolved. Minjeong was working with the police, you had found out— although you hadn’t heard from her since the arresting.

you weren’t sure what to do, anymore. You had dedicated so much to this— and it was all for nothing. Essentially, you had failed.

You were currently living with Aeri, actually. You were a valuable witness— you had seen and done things that would hopefully be able to incriminate Karina, more than all the other records there was of her actions.

Aeri wasn’t as mean as she had been. She was actually quite quiet— but not mean. You two spoke about it. A lot had happened, and you both lived through it. You could relate to each other.

it would take time, though.

1993, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 11:13 A.M. Location: Washington, D.C. Objective: . . .

It had been 4 years since Yu Jimin had been arrested. She was facing many, many charges— although you tried not to keep up with the news. There was to much going on.

currently, you were with Aeri. You and Aeri had gotten much closer in the following years— how could you not? You spent almost every waking moment together.

Aeri had some work to do, so you were waiting. It was quite simple, really.

You had been offered a position, here— in D.C. You’d work on other jobs, similar to this, but far more investigative. It sounded.. good. You’d like to help people, thats alway’s something you’ve wanted.

You were shaken out of your thoughts by Aeri.

“Hey,” she called, to get your attention. “Let’s go, they’ve got some questions to ask you before you can get hired. You know how government jobs are,” she shrugged, leading you down a winding hallway.

“Yeah,” you replied, your hand in hers. “They kind of suck,”

“They do,” she agreed, with a sigh. “They kind of do,”

A/N: I HATE HOW THIS CAME OUT 😭😭 it took me so long but it’s done. I kind of just wanted to get it over with. I don’t have much to say, honestly I might delete this. I had a good idea for it but just couldn’t find the words to execute it. sorry </3 expect a better work soon. I’m hoping to finish up some less heavy ideas before returning to my cold war AU. In any case, asks are appreciated, and I’m open to requests! thank you for reading this mess </3 also aeri being endgame is payback for you (aettudae) making her married to a man in honeycomb. that should be ME.

EXTRA: when you read ‘mi amor’ keep in mind I’m imagining to pronounced like one word, so more like ‘mia-mor’. ‘mia’ kind of sounds like ‘mya’. this will make sense to spanish speakers.

[cent-scratchnsniff]

here together

[torchstelechos]

While objectively this wouldn't work at ALL I do think it would be funny if LBH also had a System. Mainly little annoying ass blurbs that pop up like achievement unlocked! The Endless Abyss Greets You! and LBH is just like. Hmmm. I do not like that. But obviously they wouldn’t be helpful, right? In the Water Prison arc I think he would get a pop up that’s basically “Achievement Unlocked! No Matter The Universe, We Find Ourselves Here Again!” and hes just fucking FUMING at this point internally but after he leaves he gets a few new ones and he looks over as they scroll in the air and promptly chokes on his own spit; Achievement Unlocked! You Call This A Fan Service Scene? Achievement Unlocked! No Answer, No Problem! We’ll Just Act It Out! Achievement Unlocked! Ripping Him A New One...? Achievement Unlocked! UST Over 1000+ Points! For every choice SQQ makes LBH gets like fifteen pop ups and if LBH knew what an adblocker was he would have installed one ages ago. But alas, he just gets more pop ups.

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

.

[neverendingford]

.

[woebegonewings]

Also like, trying to not make TLoU AU Kseniya just…wildly overpowered is fucking hard. Because yeah sure, chronic pain and looks visibly infected (meaning anyone with half a brain cell and a gun will shoot on sight) and blind; that all sucks…

…but she can fucking talk to cordyceps. She can talk to the Infected. Her and Pierce run across three Clickers? No problem, just let Kseniya casually walk up to them and make them go away. Because unlike Ellie the Infected read her as one of them, so not only will they not attack her but they’ll treat her like any other Infected. Cordyceps isn’t inherently evil or violent—it’s a fungus, it can’t have morality. It’s doing what every fungus wants to do: survive, propagate, and make more of itself. It just mutated into something that can use humans to do that, not because it hates humanity but just because that’s how it went.

So if Kseniya’s like “yeah no, not a viable host, sorry!” the Clickers will wander off and leave Pierce be.

That is UNBELIEVABLY overpowered in a TLoU context. 50% of the threat to their survival is just…gone! Poof!

[causalitylinked]

tell me something nobody knows about you. (akira)

            DO REVENGE. » still accepting!

"Aah? And why is that any of your business?" Akira bluntly questions. Truth be told, he doesn't think he was seriously that interesting of a person, it would warrant her sudden curiosity... but even so, he'll pause to actually think long and hard about the question she asks; only, it didn't manage to outwardly show on his impassive features, so as far as Ryu could probably tell, he was probably staring off into space.

"...Fine. My old man was a murderer, but he went and kicked the bucket before he could even be charged for his crimes," Akira tells her at long last upon figuring that would probably scare her off from further probing into his past. "I never got to meet the sorry bastard, though, so to me, he's just some guy that knocked my mom up." Naturally, he neglects to tell her Yakumo Miroku would probably have never committed the crimes in the first place had he known of his existence, for as far as he was concerned, he had already told her quite a generous amount.

...Whether or not Ryu actually believed him, however, was entirely up to her.

@aaternum

[doomednarrative]

Could never understand being a Michinaga hater the guy has carried the Entire series for me at this point

[pan-de-queer]

their story, esp the first part of the post before same sex marriage was legalized in the usa, reminds me of this post by Filipino musican Nica del Rosario, a queer singer who was introducing her newest song

[Image ID: First picture is a screenshot of Twitter user Nica del Rosario with two screenshot images of a message written on a note app.

Second and third pictures are the message itself which reads:

The night before our flight back home to Manila after getting married in Sydney, we had to fill out an online tracing form called One Health Pass (PSA: fill this out in advance if you're traveling home so you don't get stuck in the long line of people at the airport).

As I was going through mine, I stopped at one question: marital status. It stared right back at me, almost mockingly, like it knew that despite our magical, joyful wedding just a couple of days before, I had to begrudgingly mark myself as "single".

It was a small, simple action, but it crushed my heart like a stone. It represented the reality that was waiting for us back in Manila: that the vows we exchanged in Sydney will not be honored in the place we call home. The joy of getting to legally commit ourselves to spending the rest of our lives together is mixed with the bitterness that according to the laws where we reside, that doesn't mean anything.

But to us, it means everything. Remembering that moment in our hotel room, filling out that form, spurred me to write this song. Because despite that small yet sad moment, there's comfort in the fact that we're married in Australia, in the US, in Canada, and several other countries. There's comfort in the fact that we share a love that some people spend lifetimes trying to look for. There's comfort in the life and the family that we built together.

I don't know when our laws here will change; maybe we'll be like those old lady couples in the US rushing to the courthouses on the day that same sex marriage was legalized in all 50 states. Maybe it will come in 10 years. Maybe we won't live to see it. But we have today, and our love and our family. And for now, that is enough.

"*Balang Araw" is for every person in our community who continue to hope and fight for what we stand for: to be treated as human beings, to be given the same rights as everyone else. *Makukuha rin natin ang ating "balang araw", pero sa ngayon, mahalin muna natin ang isa't isa. /.End ID]

Translations:

Balang Araw = someday

Makukuha rin natin ang ating "balang araw", pero sa ngayon, mahalin muna natin ang isa't isa = We'll also get our "someday", but for now, let's first love one another.

everytime I remember that lesbian couple that have a marble statue of the two of them embracing and sleeping on a bed together over where their graves will be because the artists didn’t believe they would be able to be married before they died, so what they couldn’t have in life they could have in death, I fucking breakdown

[tealeavesandthorns]

//Okay I think the answer to my angsting over my wishlist/wanted/ideas thing is to have a wishlist tag maybe.

I'm always too nervous to ask people about stuff and I'm too nervous to post shippy stuff in case people think I'm trying to push something on them. I over explain myself and then it gets long and rambly and people stop paying attention anyway. So maybe just a tag and then I can ramble in the tags of the post about cute ideas and stuff.

[sadesluvr]

Beautiful Liar

After you boyfriend Randy is tragically murdered, Billy is determined to be the shoulder you cry on.

A/N: Been sitting on this idea for a while. Please read the tags, and minors DNI!

Word count: 3.6K

Tags: SMUT / DUB-CON / Dacryphilia / Manipulation / Grief / Unprotected sex / Creampies / Loss of virginity / Corruption kink / Gaslighting / Misogyny / Reader has a vagina / Fingering

Randy Meeks was dead, and there was no way to change that.  

He’d been murdered, brutally; his body in tatters, bloody mess left on the stockroom floor of the video store he’d worked at. Police had said it was a homicide, just another in a series of attacks by the infamous masked ‘Ghostface’ killer that had been running around Woodsboro. The whole town, your friend group included, had been speculating the person – or people’s - identity, wondering if they were male or female, old or young, insider or outsider...either way, the sole question was why. Why Woodsboro? Why now? Why your friends?  

The simple answer – in Randy’s case at least – was that you were living in a classic horror movie, in which none of you would get out of alive unless you followed the rules, (which was the sole reason why you hadn’t slept with him during your relationship) but that particular answer was far from satisfying to you. First Sidney’s mother had disappeared, next was Casey and her boyfriend, soon followed by Sidney’s father, Tatum, Randy and Sidney herself, leaving only you to remain. You were, as Randy would dub it, ‘the final girl’. 

And you hated it. Randy painted these women as strong, brave, heroic, even, but you were far from it; instead worn down and shattered by the massacre of those closest to you over the past six months. There was a reason that the term was only reserved for the movies; it was too difficult, maybe even downright impossible to be able to fight back in real life, especially when it had happened so constantly and so close to home. There were few words you had to speak anymore, and when you did you found that they were only able to materialise around Billy Loomis. 

Billy, and his friend Stu Macher were the only of those that remained. Randy would’ve chalked it down to it being intentional, but the only pattern you could see was that they were killing ‘boy-girl-boy-girl’, which meant either of the two could’ve been next. 

So, imagine your shock – and horror – when Stu had gone missing, leaving nothing but a bloodied shoe in his wake. It was the only death of your friends that you hadn’t been to; no morgue visits or ceremonies, with Billy choosing to spend the day with you after he claimed that the Macher’s had just wanted family at his funeral. You would’ve been hurt, but considering you’d spent the past few months feeling like a curse, you were rather happy to keep your distance. 

“Thanks for staying with me…” you sighed, rubbing your red eyes. You’d been crying over Randy again, and although Billy wasn’t someone who liked dealing with emotions, he’d been a shoulder to cry on – literally – his silence giving you space to vent. “I’m sorry, I’m such a mess…” 

“I think you’re taking this too hard,” he said simply, watching you intently as you tried to compose yourself. “None of this is your fault. There are psychos everywhere.” 

“Yeah, but why us? How am I still here?” you gasped, the question blatantly rhetorical.  

“Luck. And skill. You’ve been in the right place at the right time,” he sniffed. “Maybe the killer doesn’t want you dead...” 

“Oh, that’s comforting.” You scoffed, dabbing at your nose with a tissue. He didn’t reply, but he tapped his finger impatiently along the edge of the sofa as his eyes roamed your body.  

You used to be such a sweet little thing; always dolled up in your signature clothes and makeup, but now you were timid, a recluse, even, walking around in Randy’s old shirts and running on two hours of sleep (if that). He couldn’t argue – solely because he’d been the one to cause this - but in time he’d get you back to the way you were. In fact, he might’ve even enjoyed this broken version of you even more; with swollen lips, a melancholy glow, and a psyche that was desperate for affection that only your former boyfriend could’ve given to you. 

Killing Randy had been exhilarating. It’d been all too easy, the boy practically boasted about his job (and therefore his schedule), and then it had been down to hiding in the stock room on his late shift, only to lunge at him from the shadows, pointed blade digging in and ravaging his pale flesh, all the while he screamed – even cried – your name. That was your knight in shining armour, a guy who’d failed to follow the rules he swore to live by. Pathetic. 

He’d shown him his face right before he died, remembering the way his eyes, though dull and rubber like a fish, had seemingly shone with recognition. He’d put the pieces together, simply far too late. 

“Don’t worry, Randy,” he’d said. “I’ll take good care of your little girlfriend.” 

Even in his moribund state, the nerd had known what he’d meant, his eyes flickering with worry just as the life had snapped out of him, the whole situation comically cinematic. All that was next was to kill Sidney, the girl that Randy adored before you’d even transferred to Woodsboro. It was simple; Sidney was collateral, and you were a spoil of war. And there was no one left to save you. 

“I think you should go outside,” Billy said bluntly. “Being inside all day isn’t good for your head.” 

You sighed and wiped your face, glancing around your living room. Truthfully, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d opened the curtains; much less when was the last time you’d gotten off the couch. The television was always on, and you’d done nothing but aimlessly flick through the channels, both avoiding yet drawing yourself to the news, hoping there’d be an update on the killer. It struck you as odd that it had all gone silent. 

“Like...Where?” you said incredulously, and Billy resisted the urge to sigh. 

“We could go to the movies,” he suggested. “It’ll be on me. I’ll even let you watch those terrible romance ones with the sappy endings.” 

You seemed to perk up at this, glancing over at the time on the clock across the room. It was 6:15, and if you showered quick enough (and found some clean, unwrinkled clothes) you could make it to a random seven o’clock screening. It was kind enough that Billy was here with you, but offering to take you to a romance film took selfishness out of the question – he was a true friend, treating you in the same way he had Sidney.

You, like many others, had joked about how perfect he was, often wishing that Randy had been the same way. He’d been nice, without a doubt, but sometimes he was erratic and clingy (some would say annoying), whereas Billy was far more level-headed and relaxed, evident through his constant support. It was time for you to smile, even if it would be temporary. 

“Okay...” You whispered with a weak smile, standing to your feet. “Give me a minute, I’m just gonna freshen up.”   

Billy’s deep brown eyes followed your figure as you walked past him and disappeared up the stairs. Sitting for a moment, he stared at the blaring screen of the television before shutting it off. Considering your state, he’d been surprised that it had been that easy, but apparently all it took for a girl to come around was the promise of a free outing and cliche love stories. The silence was telling – your parents weren’t around – and he pondered your reaction to his arrival in your bedroom...for company, of course. 

Pushing himself up from the couch, he followed you, his shoes barely making a noise as he made his way up the steps before stopping at your bedroom door, being a gentleman and taking his shoes off before he entered. A crack of light from the doorway of the bathroom told him that it was occupied, and so he took it as a signal to enter your threshold, wasting no time in rummaging through your drawers.  

He ran his lithe fingers over the outlines of your bra, following the soft cotton and curved shape as he imagined holding your tits in his hands, groping and tugging on them as you rode his cock, screaming and moaning his name so loudly that you forgot all about your idiot boyfriend.

It was the same with your panties, except he wanted to cut them off you, to watch as your legs trembled from trying to avoid the blade; only to get nipped, ruby rivulets trickling down your thighs. He’d rub it, smear the substance across your skin as he tried to soothe you, your fluids coating his skin and fingernails, only to been mixed with the translucent l cream of your orgasm – over and over and over again.  

Sitting down on the edge of your bed, he waited for you to come in, raising his brows at your squeal upon seeing him. You were only in a dressing gown, with your bra peeking out of the sides of the fluffy material. If he wasn’t already hard, he certainly was now. 

“Billy!” You gasped. “I told you to wait downstairs!” 

“I got bored,” he shrugged. “I wanted to see more of you.” 

You gave him a pointed look as you scraped your earrings off the dresser, clipping them on as you paced around the room in search of an outfit.  

“You know me,” you chuckled. “We’ve been friends for a year.” 

“Yeah, but do you ever really know someone?” He said softly, his gaze locked on your own as he cocked his head, blinking slowly at your confused expression. There was something unsettling about his tone, and you couldn’t help but think back to one of Randy’s many pained rants: “Never trust anyone. Everyone’s a suspect, even the love interest!” Did he know something you didn’t, or was he just being his typical, elusive self?

“I mean, come on now, Y/N. Look around. There’s no one left…just us. I think it’s time we got to know each-other.” 

Pulling on some pants under your gown, you frowned. 

“What’re you saying?” 

“We should be closer than we are,” he said softly, reaching out a hand to fiddle with the strap of your gown leisurely, his eye contact fleeting, but coy. “How else are we going to get through this?” 

Your eyes widened, and you gave Billy a once over as you contemplated the implications of his words. He’d never really been that much of the touchy type up until now, and it couldn’t be coincidental that all of a sudden he’d become so close to you. Perhaps it was the stress; the trauma of losing his friends that made him feel like he needed to fill the void. Or maybe it was genuine, that he wanted to stick through this real-life tragedy with you. Why else would he stay the long nights and weekends, watching TV with you or offering you his snacks?  

“Y-You’re a good friend,” you stammered. “Really. But I just don’t know if I can let anyone close to me anymore. What if you get killed!?” You choked, and Billy pulled you to the side of him, pressing your head into the crook of his neck as you sobbed. Tracing small circles on your back, he let you fix yourself before he pulled away, staring into your eyes as he spoke. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly. “I promise. And you know why?” 

You shook your head. 

“I spoke to Randy a few days before he died. He was  paranoid – you know how he was – I guess you could say that he had a sense he was going to die…” Billy paused, eyes flickering with recognition before he swallowed and continued. “…He said that if anything were to happen to him, that I should be the one to take care of you. He knew how close you were with Sidney, and she’d have wanted the same.” 

Shakily, your lips parted as you took a breath. Sidney, like many others, had always gushed about how sweet Billy was – particularly how patient he’d been when it’d come to having sex. It would only be logical for them to say that, given the fact that Stu was the only other candidate. No one else would’ve stuck beside you, putting up with your weeks of moping and incessant crying. It was only right that you started giving him some thanks. After all, he was all you had left. 

“O-okay,” you smiled softly before wrinkling your nose. You were so close to Billy that strands of his hair was grazing against your face, and you could smell the faint scent of his cologne – icy, yet comforting. “I’m sorry,” you sighed. “I guess I got so wrapped up in thinking about Randy that I haven’t really been grateful to you. Come on, let’s go out —“ 

“This isn’t about the movies.” Billy interjected, his brows slightly  wrinkled. “This is about you. You’re a girl, and you have needs.”  

You froze, always worried it would come to this.  

“I can’t let you do that,” you said affirmatively. “You were with Sidney, she was my friend —“ 

“She’s gone now,” he said, zero inklings of emotion detected within his voice. “Just like Randy’s gone. I have needs too, you know. You’re not really being a good friend by ignoring them.” 

“Billy…” 

“You mean a lot to me,” he continued, placing a hand on your thigh, rubbing it in a slow but enticing manner. “I think about you a lot. I want to do more to help you…but you’re not letting me.” 

You knew it was wrong to go there, but part of you knew that he had a point. There was no use in festering in misery; Randy, Sidney and the rest of your friends were gone for good, and there was ultimately nothing that would change that. All you could do was focus on what you had now, and that was Billy; patient, willing, and ready to carry out the wishes of your deceased friends. You just had to let him in. 

Silently, you nodded, and he took that as confirmation to kiss you. His lips were warm and wanting, but certainly felt unfamiliar, and you found that it took you a while to find a suitable rhythm. Billy wasted no time in pushing you back onto the bed, kissing down your neck as he straddled you, the faint outline of his hardening cock brushing against your covered leg. His hands lingered on the tie of your robe, glancing down at it with a smirk before pulling it undone, exposing your semi-nude torso to the cool air of the bedroom. 

Your heart leapt out of your chest; not because what you were doing was taboo, but because you’d never done it before. You were about to lose your virginity to your dead friend’s boyfriend – something that your cloudy mind couldn’t comprehend.  

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, leaving love bits on your chest as his fingers slipped under your bra and pinching and rubbing at the surrounding skin and sensitive nipples. “Randy didn’t know what he had…” 

Letting out a moan, you allowed yourself to be consumed by him, pushing off his open button-up so that he was left in his white shirt. He didn’t look much, but his arms were surprisingly muscular, and you found yourself tracing along the outlines of his skin, inadvertently pulling him closer.  

Billy pulled away, a smirk visible on his face as he unzipped his pants, sliding his trousers to his ankles before readjusting himself on the bed. Taking your hand, he guided you off the bed and brought you to your feet. 

“Strip for me,” he lulled, watching you intently for a reaction. “I want to see how pretty you are…” 

Nervously, you peeled the robe off your body, dropping it to the floor at the edge of your bed before undoing your pants, all under the watchful, jaded eyes of Billy Loomis. As cliched as it sounded, you felt like a bride on her wedding night, nerves released by Billy’s soothing coos and gentle touch. He patted the bed – yours, which you seemed to forget – and you laid down, taking laboured breaths as his brown locks disappeared between your thighs, skin breaking into goosebumps as he slid your panties down your legs. 

“You’re wet...” he hummed, placing his index and middle together before rubbing your hood in small, deliberate circles. “I think you wanted me more than you let on.” 

“B-Billy...” you gasped, shutting your eyes at the pleasurable sensation. “I-I’ve never...” 

“Shh, I know, I know...” he whispered, his touch becoming rougher as he prodded and spread your lips apart, admiring your insides like some sort of fucked-up doctor. “ ‘M gonna make you feel good, but you need a little practise first...” 

Billy began to finger you, withdrawing his digits every so often to admire the way the slickness of your arousal coated his skin, glossy and translucent, the feeling second only to the blood of his victims on his skin. As he curled his fingers within you, he found that you began to shake and clench; your orgasm abruptly evident.

As much as he wanted to indulge in it, he wanted to savour you – and so pulled his fingers out, earning a breathy whine from you. Hastily, he lowered his boxers, his erect cock jutting out like a weapon as he stalked you, pushing your body deep into the pillows as he straddled you. 

“D-Do you have protection...?” you whispered meekly, and Billy could’ve came right there and then at the sight of you, lips parted and begging to be kissed as you gazed at him through your lashes.  

“No...” he replied, watching the fear wash over your face. “But it’s ok. I was safe with Sidney, and you’ve never had sex, right? That means you’re good.” 

Biting your lip, you debated protesting, but found it wasn't worth it. You wanted him – needed this – and you were already sinning by fucking your dead friends’ boyfriend. What did unprotected sex have on that? 

“You’re right,” you said with a small smile, puffing your cheeks as you prepared for him to enter you. “Be gentle...” 

“I wouldn’t dream of hurting you,” he said firmly, eyes unblinking as he adjusted himself at your entrance, the edge of his cock grazing against your folds. “We’re in this together, remember?” 

You knew he meant it when he kissed you upon his penetration, his lips swallowing your whine as he entered you. He wasn’t by any means a stallion – simply averaged sized – but he filled you almost instantly, a dull ache forming around your walls as he began to thrust his hips up into you. If this was what sex was like; rhythmic, passionate, if not a little sharp-edged, then you were partially sad that you hadn’t got to experience it with Randy...the remaining deeply selfish part of you glad that it was with Billy. 

He seemed to know every part of you, where to kiss, where to rub, where to hold – when to slow down and when to quicken, all adorned with his sweet nothings that he spoke into your neck, ever so occasionally peering up at you through his lashes, his exact thoughts elusive to you. He cared, right? Why else would he hold you so close to him, kiss your collarbone, rub and soothe your thighs as he rolled his hips deeper, your pelvises slapping against each other in the heat of the moment? 

“You’re so tight,” he moaned as your lips gripped his bare shaft. “So good to me...Taking me so well...” 

You whined, the sound getting lost under the slight creaking of the bed and the rustle of your bedsheets, tightening your arms around his neck as you drew him closer into you and running a hand through his hair. Billy was thankful, thankful that you couldn’t see his shit-eating smirk from this position onto of you, but much more for Randy; as if he hadn’t had been such a paranoid nerd, he wouldn’t have had the opportunity to imprint himself on you forever. 

His strokes were deep and fulfilling, the head of his cock beginning to buck up into your g-spot, pleasure made more overwhelming as he reached down again to rub at your clit. It was dark, somewhat twisted, but it was perfect; and you could actually feel your anxieties disappear entirely. Who was Randy? Had you ever really loved him? 

Even amongst your white haze as you got closer to the heat of your orgasm, you were able to make out the sound of a lock opening. Your eyes shot open, trying to piece together footsteps and visible signs of entry – Billy had been the only one to come in, perhaps he’d forgotten to lock the door? Or maybe it was your parents, home early from their outing? Worse, maybe it was the killer, dead on arrival like the Grim Reaper as soon as you’d gone against the rules and had sex. 

“Billy —“ you gasped, squeezing your eyes shut as his cock hit your sensitive spot. “The door…I-I think someone’s here…” 

“Shh, you’re okay…” he murmured into your ear. “I didn’t hear anything…” 

A plunging, shaking feeling consumed you as you came, half-lidded eyes making out the shape of a gloved hand and knife creeping from behind the door. Instinctively, you opened your mouth to scream, but nothing came from it. All you could do was lie there, throat parched and the air knocked out of your lungs as you watched the figure enter the room; not hooded, masked or even bloody – but taking the shape and form of a tall, lanky boy with blonde hair. 

Stu was alive, and Billy had lied to you. 

[frickingnerd]

who's the father?

pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader x izuku midoriya

summary: you end up pregnant and refuse to tell your brother, katsuki, who the father is. because it's none other than izuku…

tags: aged up characters, lots of swearing, confession about who the father is, silly & wholesome fluff, older brother!katsuki, use of y/n, izuku & reader hooking up / dating, younger sister!reader

your parents had always thought that katsuki was the problem child out of the two of you. that if it was one of their kids, katsuki would be the one that accidentally got a girl pregnant.

and yet here you were, trying to find the right words to explain to your brother that you were pregnant, while keeping the identity of the kid's father a secret.

“you have to be fucking kidding me!”

katsuki groaned and shook his head as you told him the news. “can't you be at least a little careful? fuck, mom and dad are going to kill you–!!”

you sighed, already a few tears in your eyes, which you quickly wiped away. that stupid pregnancy was really making you more emotional than usual.

“i know, i know. i fucked up, kats… just please, help me calm them down when i tell them about this”

katsuki thought for a moment, before he rolled his eyes.

“fine! but you gotta tell me all about the baby or else i won't be able to back you up. like, who's the father?”

you immediately went silent and looked away.

“y/n! do you not know who the fucking father is!?”

katsuki ruffled his hand through his hair in frustration and sighed.

“i do know who the father is!”

you snapped back at him, causing your brother to raise an eyebrow.

“well, then hurry up and tell me who the fuck he is!”

you hesitated and shook your head.

“you'll kill him, katsuki! i know you!”

“idiot, i won't kill anyone for you. just mess him up a little…”

knowing your brother, it was clear he wasn't joking. he'd gladly get in a fight with whichever guy got you pregnant.

“katsuki!”

“fine, fine… no violence, got it. just tell me his name!”

“but you gotta promise you won't hurt him…”

katsuki hesitated and rolled his eyes, nodding softly.

“yeah, i promise. now hurry the fuck up and tell me his name!”

you paused and took a deep breath.

“alright… it's izuku!”

for a moment, katsuki was completely quiet, processing your words, until he finally snapped.

“DEKU!? you've been fucking DEKU of all people? and you're pregnant from HIM!?”

a lot of thoughts went through katsuki's head all at once, until he realized the most terrifying thing about that.

“wait, if you'll have his child, then… then he'll be family–!”

katsuki almost fainted at that realization.

“no, that's it! i'm killing him! ain't no way my little sister is going to be with him!”

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

my kingdom for a function that will let you choose to exclude specific, individual posts from searches without having to shadowban your entire blog. i cannot overstate how much of this webbed site's most vicious drama this would have averted over the years. PLEASE staff for the love of god do this one thing i beg you it is not too late

[chaosandmarigolds]

Dreamscape

(canon? whats that? we go with vibes in this house. Fem!reader, based off an amazing!! ask....um this is just sadness, I'm sorry.....if you want to add more sadness listen to Chasing Cars (yeah I cry to that song 99% of the time sorry))

One day..

With a grumble, he adjusted to the sudden shift of your body weight, to where you were essentially laying over him, and out of pure habit he wrapped his arm over the small of your back- only for you to whisper a soft ‘sorry’ before standing up all the way. Which caused him to think, it was a Saturday and there weren’t any Ops he had been assigned, so there was no purpose in waking up before the sun. So with a tilt of the head, he moves to sit up, watching as you tug out the duffle bag from the couch.

Maybe when the war is over…

“Love?”

You almost jump as your fiance calls the nickname and you turn around, giving him a little smile, “Good morning.”

Simon gives you a look as he turns on the lamp and watches your mannerisms, the timidness behind every movement, “Wha’s goin on?” A valid question, what had happened was that you and Johnny were assigned to what Price lightly put as a ‘suicide mission,’ and what you didn’t want to happen was for Simon to force then add himself to it- as it would then decrease your chances of survival by that much. So you falter for a moment, trying to avert your gaze. With a panicked breath you motion to the kitchenette, “I’ll make tea! Oh! And let’s use the special type, the one we got from Inida? Yeah! Yeah-”

Of course, the echoed whisper of your name made you stop your walk and you slowly turned to face him, your face downturned, you were an awful lair, you were never sent to integrations because you hated to see people hurt. And it killed you to see him searching for an answer, to see him scared for your sake- and for the great and terrifying Simon Riley…that was saying something.

Once the smoke settles…

“You’re not going.”

“It doesn’t-” You groan and throw your head into your hands, “It doesn’t work like that, you know that.”

“No, you’re not going, ‘ll take the spot,” He was grasping at broken shards of sense because he knew the choice was set in stone that not even a sword made of the purest of intentions couldn’t crack it. “Let me talk to-”

“SIMON.”

You take a sharp breath and look at him from across the room, by that time you were fully dressed, hair tied back, boots laced up. Engangment ring which was supposed to be switched out in less than a week hanging onto your dog tags. It took a moment to find the words but they were able to come after a moment, “There is no talking to Laswell or the Captain, there is no loophole, there is no replacing, there is nothing you can do. I have it covered. I do not need you to come and save me when I can save myself.”

Maybe once we got ourselves picked up…

The silence was stiff, and he then finally relented, slowly walking over to you, tucking the tags into your shirt, voice hushed, “Johnny ‘ll take care of ya.”

“I did…I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know.” He pressed his lip to the crown of your head, “Jus lemme think I can save you from everythin.”

You stay silent, then with a short step you move to allow him to hold you, “You can.”

We can move somewhere far away, within the groves of tranquility …

You give Johnny a dull laugh as you walk down the rusted corridor, his laugh echoing through your earpiece. It was nice, laughing for what felt like the first time in forty or so hours, the mission was not even close to being finished and you were already running on steam. So obviously it was time for some lame jokes, “As much as fireworks sound fun, I don’t think I want that in my wedding.”

“Gah,” He chuckled from his spot, waiting for you to clear the hallway so he could follow, “Ghosty woulda lemme.”

“Oh yeah, Ghost would have loved it,” You return with a bitten-back laugh, and then turn the corner, leading with your gun, eyes looking over the blood splatters on the ground and you then whisper, “Clear.”

Before you could even blink the hiss of a gunshot hissed into your earpiece burning with such a pain you had to rip it out, hand going to your ear.

With a staggering step to catch your balance and blink the tears out of your eyes you were then met with a gun being shoved to the back of your head.

You never thought blinding light could hold such peace.

I would prefer our home to not be the shadows cast by the towering and rickety oaks, rather it be in the sun, lightened by new lives we could live

The carrier came back with supplies, no saved hostage, just two bodies left mangled by the enemy no captain even- the craft had been on autopilot.

A message, a warning left within that metal body.

The silence as the door swung itself open. They had all seen death, they had seen things no human should have seen.

There was something about the sight of their teammates laying tossed on the floor of an aircraft that made Kyle turn away

That made Price need a day before he filed the paperwork.

Something about it ruined Simon.

A large house ideally, so that way we can have as many kids and dogs as we want, something to usher in a new meaning behind our names

Silence is what he use to hold peace in, yet all he could hear when there was silence was the what-ifs, did you scream? Was it quick? Did it hurt? Why didn’t he go? Why did he let it happen?

That day he lost the only people he had loved and it was cursing him, bottles couldn’t cure it, opioids didn’t numb more than he had already been, nothing was saving him. He summed that up by saying maybe he didn’t deserve saving.

A garden, lively with bees and colorful with every flower I can manage to grow,

He couldn’t bring himself to go through your things, he was the next of kin, as for Johnny- all of his things had been shipped back to his family, yours? They sat where you had left them that morning you left, your notebook collecting desk on the coffee table, mug still half-filled with water. Lipstick stain still on his balaclava from the last time he took you out on a proper date.

In a drunken stupor, he grabbed the notebook, for the intention of tossing it away, forcing himself to forget every tiny detail of what was. But something told him to open up the pages, so for a millionth of a second he did, yet the sight of your handwriting which you would jokingly name ‘chicken scratch’ forever ingrained on the pages caused something in him to break all over again.

A porch where we can dance in the moonlight

“Riley.” John seemed shocked by the sight of the former lieutenant on his doorstep, sure he had offered ‘anything’ after the deaths, yet he never expected for Simon to take him up on it. For the first time in two years, for the first time since he had to discharge him, he saw what he thought was a completely sober man before him.

It was taking every ounce of Simon to not just turn away, to say it was a bad idea and run, run away from the emotions, but he was going to this…he had to. “You wanna build a house?”

A library so I can put all of those books you bought me, somewhere we can escape the haunting reality of the past

A year, he and John spent a year of work on the house once Simon found the perfect lot of land not too far out of London. Weekends spent from morning to dusk, John’s kids helping when they were in town and Eliza, John’s wife, coming by with food and to do the painting. The foundation has your name forever printed within it.

All of it sounds so poetic when I scribble them down, but the reality is as long as I have your love I am home

A garden he tended every morning and dusk to make sure they were perfectly planted, large enough to where the neighbors would come by to pick bouquets. He would watch the child run through the stone pathways, wondering what could have been.

The library was filled with novels he swore to collect, writing your name as the owner as he placed them in the rows of the shelving he took careful time carving.

I will love you forever and always, Ghost-boy

“You built a good home,” Kyle had told him, close to ten years after all of it had happened, sitting beside him on the porch. He knew it was probably the only thing that kept him alive this long, so he was thankful for it.

Simon nodded slowly, “Thank you.”

(annnyway, that’s all! Any and all comments, feedback and all that mean so much! Thanks for the ask!! <3)

[harrywavycurly]

Loving a Killer: Tuesdays are for Dancing

Masterlist: Here

Pairing: Killer!Harry x wife!reader

Tag List: @umadirectioner

CW: Language, mentions of ways to harm someone, mentions of weapons, mentions of drugs (it’s a pain medication that Harry doesn’t know about), threats, and as always Harry and Mitch kill people for a living in this series.

A/N: I had to come up with a way to introduce y’all to Niall and this just seemed to fit? It’s dramatic but in a fun-ish way or at least in a fun way for this series.

Summary: Mitch gets a call while him and Harry are at work and it leads so some dramatic events that let us get introduced to your nosey cubical mate that is the one and only Niall Horan✨

“I say we use the zip ties on his ankles.” Harry suggests as he places a hand on his hip while running his free one through his hair as he stands in front of a fold out table littered with different objects he packed with him for this evening’s job. “Makes it easier to move him to the trunk if his ankles are tied together and the zip ties haven’t let us down before unlike the-”

“I get it okay? Rope only works in the movies but how was I supposed to know that?” Mitch says in an attempt to defend his choice of wanting to use rope on a man’s hands and feet a few jobs ago, but it ended up being a massive issue because the rope kept coming undone as they moved the body from the living room to the car and then to the woods to be disposed of.

“It could’ve worked if you knew how to properly tie a knot.” Harry states as he reaches for the bundle of zip ties while Mitch just rolls his eyes as he walks over to the man lying on his back in the middle of the basement.

“Let me guess-” Harry turns to look over his shoulder as Mitch bends down and grabs the knife from next to the man’s wrist, placing it in his open duffle bag near the table. “You know how to tie a perfect knot?” He questions making Harry just shrug as he looks back at the table so he can count out four zip ties, deciding it’s best to do the wrists as well just to be safe.

“I mean I’ve been known to be able to tie a decent knot or at least one someone can’t wiggle their way out of.” Mitch doesn’t miss the slight suggestive tone to Harry’s voice as he talks or the small smirk that tugs at his lips when he turns to hand him two zip ties so he can get started on tying the man’s wrists together while Harry works on his ankles.

“Really? She’s into being-” Before Harry can even shoot him a warning glare to watch what comes out of his mouth next, Mitch’s brows are pinching together as he moves the zip ties to one hand so he can reach into his back pocket of his jeans for his phone. “Uh hello?” Harry raises an eyebrow as he begins to zip tie the man’s ankles while keeping a watchful eye on his bestfriend who in all the years he’s been working with him can count on three fingers the times he’s ever answered the phone while on a job.

“Yes-yeah he’s with me.” Mitch gives Harry a quick glance making Harry get an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. “What? Uh-uhm okay yeah yeah we will uh-yeah be right there uh huh-bye.” Harry is already done with the man’s ankles and standing up by the time Mitch is hanging up and sliding his phone back into his jeans.

“What happened?” Mitch runs a hand over his face with his free hand before he looks at Harry who is packing his backpack up, preparing to leave the moment Mitch explains what the phone call was about because he can just tell whatever it was about isn’t good.

“That was Niall-”

“Niall? As in my wife’s coworker Niall?”

“Uh yeah so apparently she goes to-”

“To dance lessons on Tuesdays? Yeah because that’s the night we work late and she doesn’t like to be home alone at night that much. Now what the fuck happened? Why did he call you?”

“Well if you would just let me talk I would happily tell you.” Harry sends Mitch a glare as he shoves the last of his stuff into his backpack but Mitch just ignores him as he quickly finishes zip tying the man’s wrists together.

“Niall went with her tonight because he was bored and I guess something happened and he thinks her toe is broken? But she’s okay and-and Harry dude where are you going? I drove us here you asshole!” Mitch shouts as he scrambles to get to his feet and grab his duffle bag before Harry is at the top of the stairs that lead to the kitchen of the man’s house.

The thing is Mitch knows Harry well enough to know he will absolutely leave him here if he doesn’t make it to the car fast enough so Mitch skips every other step and barley makes it into the passenger seat before Harry is putting the car into reserve and heading towards where he already knows you’re at. Harry doesn’t bother looking at how fast he’s going or how quickly the lights change from yellow to red as he runs through them. The only thing running through his mind is getting to you as fast as he can because until his eyes land on you and he sees for himself just how badly you’re hurt or hopefully how not hurt you really are, he can’t focus on much else.

“Traffic laws are still in effect by the way and I’m pretty sure you’ve already broken three of them.” Mitch reminds his friend who he knows is just in a panicked and probably slightly angry state of mind over the fact you got hurt and he wasn’t there to stop it from happening or make you feel better the moment it happened.

“Yeah well coming from someone who just stabbed a man not even two hours ago I think traffic laws are the least of our worries.” Harry argues with a casual tone that makes Mitch just let out a chuckle as he shakes his head.

“You just always have to be right don’t you?” This gets a small smile out of Harry as he briefly looks over at Mitch with a shrug.

“So…Niall has your number?” Mitch lets out a sigh and rolls his eyes making Harry grin because he can see the tiniest hint of a smile wanting to form on his face, he knew the two of them hit it off when they met a few weeks ago at the festival but he hadn’t heard much else about it because well Mitch isn’t one to share details about his personal life unless Harry really pushes for them.

Mitch knows Harry is only asking about Niall as a way to distract himself so his mind won’t wonder off to the darkest corners and start imagining the worst possible scenarios the two of them could be headed towards even though the only injury either of them know you might have is a broken toe. So Mitch decides that he’ll be nice, he will let Harry in on some bits of information regarding the Irish brunette man he was forced to meet at an event he only agreed to go to because of the promise of cookies and the chance to indulge in carving into something for fun and not for work, Mitch has always enjoyed a good pumpkin carving contest. But he also isn’t going to give this information up easily, so he thinks of something Harry can do for him in exchange for it.

“I’ll tell you about it if you actually stop at the next red light.” Mitch offers causing Harry to let out a huff as he reluctantly lets off the gas just a bit, his way of silently agreeing to the terms his bestfriend gave him making Mitch loosen the death like grip he has on the passenger side door handle.

Niall is a ball of nerves as he looks at the door of the bar waiting for it to burst open and to see your husband walk through it, he chews on his bottom lip as he looks down at his phone and sees it’s been five minutes since he’s called Mitch so he knows that’s probably way too soon for Harry to arrive considering both of them were at work when he called. He wouldn’t feel so nervous if the last few times he saw Harry he was just a little more friendly because the thing Niall doesn’t understand is how someone who works with computers and is a certified tech nerd can be so terrifying but that’s exactly what Harry is to Niall, terrifying. He knows the moment Mitch and Harry walk through the door he is going to be getting some hard glares and probably a nasty comment or two so he’s just trying to prepare himself the best he can.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t a good color I just said it’s unusual that’s all.” Niall’s head shoots up at the sound of Mitch’s voice as his eyes land on the door just in time to see Mitch walk through it with Harry following close behind him.

Now Niall has seen Harry before, he’s met him three or four times in casual settings and once at an office party but he’s never seen him look quite like this. The sleeves of his all black button up are rolled up to his elbows letting him get an eyeful of the tattoos that decorate his forearms and hands, it’s tucked into well fitting black trousers that are held up with a thin black belt while his hair is pushed back and his usual glasses are gone making Niall assume he has contacts in. It’s as if his attire just adds another layer of his already intimidating personality making Niall swallow down his nerves as Harry’s eyes finally land on him.

“Where is she?” Niall feels his eyes go wide at how harsh and deep Harry’s voice is as he walks towards where he’s standing near the end of the bar. He opens his mouth to say something but it’s as if all of a sudden Niall doesn’t knows how to form actual words so he just kind of stands there opening and closing his mouth for a moment making Harry’s jaw clench as his eyes narrow in one of the harshest glares Niall has ever been on the receiving end of.

“She’s in my office.” Harry’s glare softens as he looks away from Niall and towards Jeff who is standing behind the bar cleaning some glasses.

“Thanks.” Harry calls over his shoulder as he rushes past Niall and towards the back office of the bar and that’s when Niall lets out a deep sigh as he turns to rest his hands on the top of the bar finally feeling like he can somewhat breathe now that Harry is out of the room.

“Don’t take it personally he’s like that with everyone.” Mitch explains as he comes up to stand next to Niall so he can place a reassuring hand on his back.

“Is he always so-so intense?” Mitch just shrugs as Niall turns his head to look at him with a raised brow. “Nice to see you again by the way. This isn’t exactly how I imagined it going but I’ll take what I can get.” Niall jokes or at least tries to as an attempt to lighten the mood and he thinks it’s worked when he hears a soft chuckle come from Mitch’s mouth.

“Harry just really loves his wife that’s all.” Mitch explains as he looks around Niall and signals Jeff who just gives him a nod and a smile before turning around to start making Mitch’s usual drink. Niall just rolls his eyes as he turns his body so he’s now facing Mitch with his elbow on the bar and his hands clasped together in front of him.

“Oh come on the man looked like he wanted to kill-”

“What the fuck did you give her?” Harry’s voice is loud and full of anger that’s directed towards the man standing in front of Mitch as he comes barreling out of Jeff’s office. Niall doesn’t have time to do anything before Harry has a fistful of his shirt and is shoving his back into the bar with one hand while his other hand slams down onto the top of the bar allowing him to lean over Niall as he speaks. “You have five seconds to tell me why my wife is in that office acting loopy and dazed out of her fucking mind.” Mitch doesn’t even flinch at how harsh Harry’s tone is as his grip on Niall’s shirt tightens, Mitch just places a hand on Harry’s shoulder which he instantly shrugs off making Mitch roll his eyes.

“Harry you’ve got to-”

“Tell me to calm down and I swear I’ll break his nose right now.” Harry threatens as he quickly turns to give Mitch a look that makes the long haired man let out a sigh as he runs a hand through his hair. “You now have three seconds.” He states as his attention goes back to Niall who is trying his hardest not to freak out at the fact he just heard Harry casually mention breaking his nose.

“She uhm said she-she was in pain so I gave her something to make her feel better that’s all.” Niall explains the best he can with how he’s bent over the bar.

“You don’t know me very well Niall but you should know that I hate to repeat myself.” Niall closes his eyes after Harry’s statement half expecting to feel a blow to his face giving him the broken nose he heard him mention just a moment before. “So just know I’m only going to ask you one more time.” Niall slowly opens his eyes as Harry’s grip on his shirt loosens but only slightly. “What did you give her?” Mitch looks at Niall over Harry’s shoulder and raises an eyebrow at him and that’s when Niall realizes he might’ve made a mistake.

“I gave her a pain pill I had saved over from my knee surgery that I just keep around for emergencies.” Harry quirks a brow at Niall’s admission as his eyes momentarily glance down to his knees and Mitch knows he’s storing that information for later just incase he needs to use it against the man he still has in his harsh grip. “I just wanted her to feel better I’m sorry.” He blurts out making Harry let out a scoff as he gives Niall a shove as he releases his hold on his shirt.

“Oh well she’s feeling wonderful Niall so wonderful she can’t tell even me what actually hurts or what happened.” Harry says with a dark chuckle as he runs a hand through his hair while he turns to take a step away from Niall. “All she knows is that she feels nice and floaty.” He says as he glares at Niall over his shoulder, Niall stands up and fixes his shirt with a sigh as he glances towards the office door he knows you’re currently behind.

“I’m sorry-” Niall’s apology is cut off by Harry just ignoring him as he heads back towards the office, Mitch just gives Niall a sympathetic look as he follows behind.

“I know he seems like a massive jackass and for the most part he is but maybe if you go back there,” Jeff’s voice causes Niall to spin around and face the bar as he places a shot of whiskey down in front of him, Niall follows Jeff’s head tilt in the direction of his office. “You’ll see him in a different light.” He finishes explaining as Niall reaches down for the shot glass.

“I’d rather not get my ass kicked but thanks.” Niall answers before downing the shot and handing the empty glass to Jeff who just laughs.

“He won’t even notice you’re in the room.”

“Trust me he’ll notice. He fucking hates me man. I practically drugged his wife.”

“If you’re in the same room as her then no. He won’t.” With that Jeff turns and heads towards the opposite end of the bar leaving Niall standing there with no other option really than to just suck it up and honestly he doesn’t want to seem like a horrible friend so he needs to at least go check and see how you’re doing.

Mitch turns to look at the door when he sees it open and he gives Niall a small smile as he leans against the doorframe a few feet from where Mitch is leaning against the wall closest to the door. Harry doesn’t pay him any attention as he kneels down in front of the small couch in Jeff’s office, right in front of where your left foot is propped up on a pillow.

“Baby can you tell me if this hurts?” Niall feels his mouth slightly drop open at the tone of Harry’s voice, it’s soft and gentle, not a trace of the anger Niall heard earlier and the way he’s looking at you is as if he thinks even too harsh of a glance could break you.

“Sweetheart.” Harry’s face breaks out into a playful smile as he looks over at you and sees your eyes are closed but he knows by the way you’re breathing that you’re not asleep, just acting like you are.

“You sound like my husband.” Mitch chuckles as you let out a sigh while still keeping your eyes closed while Harry just playfully rolls his eyes at you as he gently reaches over and puts his hand on top of your foot. “But you can’t actually be him because it’s Tuesday and Tuesdays are for dancing.” Harry just nods with a smile still on his face as he puts a little bit of pressure on your foot while looking at your face for any signs of discomfort.

“Oh is he not allowed to come to these dancing Tuesdays?” Harry asks as he moves his hand further down your foot, still applying pressure and seeing if you show any signs of pain. When you give him a small pout he immediately removes his hand from your foot and rests it on your ankle. “Did that hurt baby?” Harry questions with a furrowed brow as you slowly open your eyes.

“He works late Tuesdays and comes home when I’m asleep.” You mumble sadly making Harry return your pout as he stands up and places a hand on the back of the couch so he can lean down and place a kiss to your forehead. “You wanna know a secret?” Harry just lets out a soft chuckle as he nods his head while you try to sit up onto your elbows. “Sometimes I’m not asleep and I just act like I am.” You whisper making Harry smile at the little giggle you let out when you fall back onto the couch after telling him your secret.

“That’s so sneaky of you love.” He teases making you smile as you reach up and place a hand on his cheek. “I’m sure your husband hates Tuesdays and coming home so late he has to eat dinner all alone and can’t even get a goodnight kiss.” He explains as he places a kiss to the inside of your wrist before you pull your hand away from his face.

“You always get a goodnight kiss.” You argue making Harry laugh as he leans down to place a quick kiss to your lips in an attempt to get rid of your fake pout.

“Do I? Are you sure?” He asks as he pulls away making you roll your eyes and let out a huff as you cross your arms over your chest.

“Yes I’m sure because you wake me up and beg me for one because you’ll have bad dreams if you don’t get it.” Harry just nods as he quickly leans down and kisses your cheeks before standing up and turning to grab your purse and shoes off the floor.

“That’s right sweetheart your goodnight kisses keep the bad dreams away so if I have to beg for them then so be it.” You smile as you watch him gather your things into your purse and toss the bag over his shoulder before he turns back around so he facing you.

“Hi.” You mumble as you look up at him causing a dimpled grin to take over his face as he looks down at you.

“Hi baby.” He says as he holds out his hands for you to take to help you sit up. “Ready to go home?” You just nod your head and before you can even ask him for your shoes you feel one of his arms under your knees and another under your arms scooping you into his arms. Niall moves out of the way before Harry has to tell him to allowing room for the two of them to exit the office and when you see Niall you give him a big smile and a wave.

“Bye Niall! See you tomorrow!” Niall just laughs and waves back at you while Harry ignores the interaction as he heads for the door to the bar with the keys to your car in his hand.

Harry knows he’s going to have to smooth things over with Niall at some point but not tonight, not when he’s still not even sure what exactly happened or what exactly on your foot hurts. As much as he hates to say it, he can admit he understands why Niall did what he did because he saw his friend in pain and wanted to help so he did what he thought would make you feel better. He just hopes that Niall will keep his moment of anger between the two of them because he just made you a promise about threatening people and he knows you’ll be beyond upset with him if you find out he threatened your cubical mate. But he will find a time to worry about that later because right now all he wants to worry about is getting you home and then figuring out which movie you want to watch in bed while he makes you dinner and gets you situated before he has to unfortunately return to the man in the basement to finish his job for the evening but he decides that can at least wait until you’ve gone to sleep.

With Harry gone Mitch takes a moment and looks over at Niall who he can tell is struggling with understanding how that man was the same man who had him bent over a bar as he casually threatened to break his nose not even five minutes ago. It’s something everyone who meets Harry goes through because they all come to learn that there’s two sides to Harry and only one person gets the side that involves gentle touches and soft voices and that person is you. But Mitch knows that since Niall is your coworker he gets told stories about the softer side of Harry and even though the past few times he’s been around him while Harry hasn’t been the friendliest he wasn’t ever blatantly an asshole, so meeting the rougher side of him full force tonight was probably a bit much.

“It’s weird right?” Mitch asks breaking Niall out of his trance as he stares at the door you and Harry just went through. “Seeing him like that with her?”

“Is he a Gemini or something?” Niall asks with a more than serious expression on his face as he looks from the door to Mitch who just laughs and shakes his head as he reaches over and puts a hand on Niall’s shoulder. “Like with the two people in one body kinda thing?” He adds with a quirked brow making Mitch just give his shoulder a little squeeze.

“Nope he’s an Aquarius.”

[saytrrose]

A post that Freakshow Au + Sm-Baby Fans NEED TO HEAR. READ IT.

—————

I cannot stand the people on tumblr in Mushys comments accusing her of so many horrible things. People have been stating that Mushy has been drawing “non-con” and supporting “abuse”. I will not go into too much detail on how it is affecting her and why but it is incredibly overwhelming for her, and she is not comfortable posting for the time being- and you people are making it hard for her to enjoy it anymore.

Mushy is portraying the au and characters how they would canonly work and that does not make her a bad person. The large amount of people trying to say that she has been drawing non-con of the late absolutely SICKENS me. You clearly do not have any understanding for that terminology and should not be throwing it around. Maybe if people paid attention to the au, the lore and how they are characterized you would come to the conclusion that NO ONE WANTS TO BE IN THE FREAKSHOW AU.

If you need a reminder of the definition, The TADC Freakshow Au is an Au where a horrible virus infects the Ai and twists their reality into a horror mindscape. THIS IS NOT CAINE OR ABLES FAULT. Caine and Able ARE AI. They are corrupted by the virus unwillingly and what Able puts Pomni through in the Able-Owned Pomni Au is yes, considered psychological abuse. HOWEVER why in gods name would you assume she supports that shit? Do you people just assume whenever someone draws a death scene they support murder?? or when someone depicts a scene of an animal getting hurt in a fanfic or movie that director/writer supports animal abuse?? Does that seriously go through your head?

EVERYONE in the Freakshow au in under some sort of psychological abuse- HELL in the original show they are. Like did you even watch it? And back to Freakshow, it’s a HORROR AU. People are killed left and right and no one seems to have a problem with that hm? THIS IS FICTION. PEOPLE NEED TO LEARN THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN FICTION AND REALITY BECAUSE WHEN YOU DO NOT DO SO YOU HURT PEOPLE IN REAL LIFE. Not the people producing fictional content, YOU.

People are quite literally, harassing Mushy right now and it is heartbreaking to see my friend experience this. If you do not like certain content that Mushy creates, BLOCK her or BLOCK her tags. People asking for her to tag her art with “abuse” makes her highly uncomfortable. If you do not like this, simply take responsibility for your own viewing and stop interacting.

People need to stop assuming that Mushy is also not trying to find comfort in drawing certain topics. You people need to stop assuming that Mushy lives some sort of cheery happy go lucky life. She experiences a lot, she is going through A LOT right now and you people dog piling these accusations onto her is not only just disrespectful as a person in general, but as her follower. It is truly just disappointing to see just how rude people can be when they are supposed to be your biggest supporters.

A tag MIGHT be arranged, something as simple as “Able-Owned Au” and if this is done then block it. It is that easy. It is so so easy and simple to take initiative for yourself and what you see and how you feel about it by limiting it on your own end than going out of your way to make someone feel horrible about themselves.

Mushys blog is HER blog. She can draw whatever she would like to and if anyone has an issue with this you can very kindly, FUCK OFF. The block button exists, use it. The block tags method exists, use it.

Stop harassing creators.