#ghosti's fanfiction
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Awake - (Maknae Line)
separate members Ateez x (F)Reader
Summary: You went to sleep after a HUGE (not really) fight, only, when you went to sleep you were alone, not in the comforting arms of your lover.
Genre: Hurt + Comfort
Rating: PG-17
Warnings: None
Word Count: 9.5K
Est.Read Time: 47 min
Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet
Banner: @cafekitsune
Hyung Line: Here
A/N: A little update, this took forever- Also I no longer remember how to write a literature review, yet, it is due on Monday (fml) .I'll update my requests soon and upload the next chapter of Meow soon, too! (I AM SORRY SAN'S PART IS EXTREMELY LONG)
Choi San
“I…what?” you paused, looking up from the vacuum-packed pillow in your lap. Sitting at the center of his bed, surrounded by various items, you blinked at the man in the swivel chair.
“I said no, I'm not going to use or put any other pillows on my bed.” The beanie clad man spat back, crossing his arms over his chest, the black shirt clinging onto his form. An eerie silence settled between the two, neither making their next move, nor deciding to back down.
The evening had started extremely well. Tonight she was going to spend the night at his place, for the first time ever, which is why she was extremely excited and nervous. The two had spent a week planning the various activities for Friday night. He had volunteered to arrange the movies and bring the gaming console to his room, thrilled when she told him she'd bring the skincare products, claiming the two could do facials and wear face masks! It got better when he asked if perhaps they could play board games to which she instantly agreed, adding - “Let's bake too! I'll get the ingredients!”
Hence, as soon as you had entered his room, you had dumped the contents of your back on his bed, showing him the numerous facemasks, UNO cards, a board game, some hair accessories, makeup and an unhealthy amount of snack (yes, you were planning on doing cutesy couple things) you had brought, the ingredients for the ‘special Friday night brownie’ on the computer desk beside him. What you did not expect was for it to all go down hill once you took out the pillows.
“What’s that?” he asked, watching you pull a vacuumed white thing out of your bag, one after another. Placing them on his bed, before taking out two pillow covers. You smiled at him, before ripping off the seal of one of the pillows, pulling the plastic off, and watching as it fluffed up. “Pillows!” you smiled, “You only have one, the poor boy is all worn out, lumpy, and old, so I got two more! You can replace it with them!” looking at him, you pressed the cotton pillow, to show him, “They’re super soft and have memory foam, I got them, especially for your neck and shoulders!”
You grabbed the second one and placed it on your lap when he spoke, “No.”
“What?”
“I said no, I'm not going to use or put any other pillows on my bed.”
Blinking at him, you moved the sealed pillow aside and scooted closer to the edge of the bed, closer to him, trying not to push any of the multiple things you had brought off the bed. Feet pressing against the floor you looked up at him, hands on your knees, leaning closer, “Sannie…it’s just a pillow-”
That was perhaps all it took for the mood to go sour, real quick. He had got up from his seat and marched towards her, causing her eyes to widen in surprise, especially when he had stood right above her, hands on his hips, saying something she’d never even imagined, before reaching beside her - though she had flinched when his hand came closer, something he had noticed but chose to ignore- grabbing his pillow and pulling back. He stared at her, not even sparing her a glance as he walked out of the room, making sure to slam the door behind him as he did so, his words still ringing in her ears as she blinked down at her hands, wondering what she had said, if she had done something to offend him, if she really was inconsiderate.
“I didn’t know you could be so inconsiderate and spoiled- or maybe you’re just selfish.”
Honestly, you had thought of going after him, but you had never seen react like this- this uncharacteristic outburst was extremely new to you, the cold words thrown at you were worse, this wasn’t what you were used to. This wasn’t the same Sannie who would whisper sweet nothings in your ear when you were sad, this wasn’t the same Sannie who once came over when he found out you were sick, only leaving when you were asleep and well fed. This definitely wasn’t the same man who had taken hold of your heart, delicately placing it in his pocket- no, you really didn’t know who that was. Perhaps that’s why you didn’t go after him, at one point, you had thought of packing up and going home, but when you glanced at the clock 01.23 AM was not a very appropriate time to travel back home alone. With that you had neatly packed up everything but the essentials needed for your nightly routine,making sure all you’d have to do was change before leaving as soon as the sun woke up.
You peaked out the door to find complete darkness, sighing in relief as you took your essentials and walked down the hall towards the washroom, passing by Seonghwa’s room, making sure to be quiet when you noticed the light peaking through from under the door. If you focused, you could make out Seonghwa’s muffled voice, though it was like he was talking to himself, or he was on the phone, but he did not sound pleased at all. Due to which you tried to rush through your routine, making sure to be as quiet as before, slowly closing the door, your breath hitching at the soft click, a hand gripping the door handle, while your palm pressed against the wood, trying to listen to any sounds of movements, luckily there was nothing.
With a sigh you walked over to the mirror, grimacing at the sight, your new night suit was but a simple but a cute cotton outfit, a lavender camisole with a patching pair of loose fitted shorts, ensuring maximum comfort and well…it was supposed to ensure his liking as well. The mere thought of him squeezed your heart, wanting to go after him and sort it out- but no, you were a big girl and a smart one, no man could just say something so brash and throw a fit before leaving, not even the man who held your heart in his warm palm.
You had assumed that these thoughts were going to consume and feed off your sleep, but boy, were you wrong, as soon as your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light, off to dreaming about who knows what, but it was a pleasant dream, a very soft, warm and nice dream, maybe it was because of the new pillow, who knows- but it was a very life like dream, where you felt all fuzzy and secure, as if you were in a comforting hug, ones like he’d give you, a bit too…realistic.
Though she only jerked awake at the feeling of something trailing up her spine, a small gasp breaking the silence, as she tried to move away, only to be pulled closer, a groan from above her head vibrating through her whole being. Oh.
Letting out a sigh of relief, you tilted your head up, to the best of your ability, forcing the man’s chin off your head as he blinked down at you with droopy eyes, a sheepish pout, ever so visible even in the dim light. The thing trailing up your spine, was in fact, his fingers, his fingertips tracing your spine, in a soothing manner. Your own hand squeezed in between their bodies, trying to push him away but he didn't budge, only his palm pressed against the small of your back, trying to keep you near him.
“You don’t get to be mean, and assume a little skinship is gonna fix that.”
Your words were harsh, and your tone was even more harsh, but you wanted it to be, you wanted it to sting, enough for him to realise this wasn't a joke, he had ruined the entire night and the mood.
His grip loosened at your words, enough for you to slip away from you to move onto the other pillow, sighing at the cold sensation on your cheek, now at the same eye level as the moron who was on the other pillow- internally you wanted to be petty and snatch it from under his head, he didn't deserve it, but the sight of his mochi cheek smashed against the soft pillow had your inner girl squealing at at the sight.
“I…I've had this same pillow since my trainee days.” he mumbled, reaching behind him to pull out the lumpy, beat up, tired pillow and pulling it to his chest, hugging it closer, “I had it when I got picked…I had it when we went to Gangnam…when grandpa…passed and…well…I- did you think I was gonna...hurt you?” He whispered, referring to the way you had flinched, of course the guilt was eating him up, that's why he had gone to Seonghwa to talk about it- maybe he looked to scary for his own good, but hell, an angry Seonghwa was even more frightening, and that's whom he had to deal with.
With a deep breath you reached over and placed your hand on top of his hand, "It was...reflex...I knew you wouldn't...at least not physically," , noticing how his fingers gripped the pillow harder at contact, “Why…didn't you just…say that before?”
His breath hitched at your question, looking everywhere but at your face, the insecurities brewing inside as he chewed on his lower lip, unsure if he should answer you, what would you think about him if he told you? What if you find it weird, what if his insecurities and his past makes you question the worth of this relationshipz- he's not the boy he used to be, he's not sensitive or weak or-
“Sannie…” she whispered, slowly moving closer to him, her face on the same fluffy pillow he was on, the old pillow now squished between the two as she sighed, “You can tell me…” Her hand cupped his cheek, thumb stroking the warm skin, trying fo coax whatever it was out of him. She was still upset, but, she'd never seen him this conflicted.
“I just…” with a sigh he closed his eyes, thinking of what to say, only to end up blank. He opened his eyes to meet hers, mumbling, “Seonghwa yelled at me for what I said to you…he's right…I shouldn't have said that…I just…you don't really know…I mean I wasn't always…like this…this big or…manly or strong-” his grip on the pillow loosened, instead his arm wrapped around her, pulling her into him in one go, his lips curled into a small smile at her squeak, his pillow between the two, pressed to the max, “And when…you said its just a pillow I- I kind of…I mean its stupid but it scared me how I… if you were to realise I just grew bigger, I'm not that different, I'm still scared of bugs, I still hate vegetables and -”
“You really are a little dumb.” you cut him off, pressing a finger on his lips, to shush him, “I don't care if you're not all buff and big, I don't care if you were lanky and whiney- I just know you were San then and you are San now- as long as that big ol'heart of yours stays the same, I'm all yours.”
You felt his grip tighten around you, pressing your forehead against him as he relaxed against you, letting out a breath of relief.
“Sure, these big boys add a great amount to your aura points though.” You giggled, patting his muscular arms, “A softie with big guns is all a girl wants~” you smiled at the way his face contorted in confusion, only to quickly press your lips against him, laughing at his surprised squeak.
“I'll make it up to you…” he whispered, finally feeling the exhaustion of the entire confession settling in, moving to remove the pillow from between them but she stopped him, surprising him yet again as she smiled at him, one that had his heart beat so loud that's all he could hear.
“I said don't use it as a pillow because your neck will hurt, but I never said throw away a part of yourself- plus its nice…smells like you.” her fingers wrapped around his wrist and pulled his arm over the pillow and herself, snuggling closer to him, “You're lucky I was staying over for the whole weekend.”
With your head tucked under his chin, arm wrapped around him, smoothly rubbing his back, his wrapped around your waist, he sighed nuzzling into the new pillows, happy that they carried your scent more than his, “Lucky to have you in my life.”
Song Mingi
Of course you were mad at him, how could you not be? He was supposed to come home by 6- he was supposed to spend the evening with you, have dinner with you, watch a movie with you, and spend your anniversary together. Well technically, it was your 6 month anniversary, but hey, half a year meant something to you, and as much as you were mature and ‘a cold-hearted’ b*tch, as claimed by your male coworkers, you were just soft for the giant man child who somehow managed to thaw the glacier you had for a heart.
So, when you had texted him earlier today he had instantly replied with an excited confirmation, what you did not think that after that he wouldn’t respond to you. You tried calling too, but his phone went straight to voicemail, so you waited and waited and waited- until you got a little notification of a certain white haired man doing a live, one that wasn’t scheduled. Were you upset because he was doing his job? No. Were you upset he didn’t tell you? Yes. He should’ve been decent enough to at least text you that he was going to be late, that he had work- you’d never asked him to prioritise you over his work, you knew what you were getting into, and with your workaholic personality, he knew yours, which is why he should have known that you would have understood wherever he was coming from.
Naturally she was furious when he stepped into the apartment, though being Mingi, he had no clue what she was upset about, even after he saw the cold pizza, the melted candles and small gift that lay wrapped in glossy paper. Instead he had walked over to her with a smile, ready to hug her- wrong move.
"I SAID DON'T TOUCH ME!"
Her voice boomed across the hall, followed by the echo of her slap resonated in the confines of his aching heart, staring down at her with utter shock, a whimper at the tip of his tongue, an apology right after but hey- this was Song Mingi, and using his actual emotional maturity was never his first move.
Hence the platinum blonde gasped, giving her an offended look and mumbling, "Why are you being so pissy? It's literally a pizza, not some homemade meal." He eyed the table before turning to her, though she looked as if she were about to explode- somewhere deep down he was kind of afraid, he’d never seen her this angry, she was often quite calm and composed, extremely reserved. That would explain why her reaction caught him off guard, especially when he tried to talk to her, tried to hold her hand so she’d stop leaving every damn room she walked into.
“Look, I have a job!!” he called out walking after her, into the kitchen, “You of all people should know that, I can’t just leave my fans because you wanna celebrate some made up event!”
“Its not made up Mingi!” you turned around and glared at him, “I- I asked you two days ago about this, I told you it meant something to me and- I just, I can’t believe you didn’t even think of texting me! What’s the difference between you and any other guy from my office if you can’t communicate properly!”
Granted, if he took a minute to process her words, but sometimes she was so complicated. Moreover, he knew what he got into once he began to chase after her for months, he knew what he was getting into when she directly told him about her issues and insecurities, her reserved attitude and persona, one that she often let go off when she was with her giant, lovable dummy. If he kept all those factors in mind, and just took a moment to think, he would have understood the premise of her argument, but he really didn’t want to, or perhaps he just didn’t take it seriously, either way, his next words were the reason for which he was back in his form, wondering why the hell he didn’t think of apologising like a normal person.
“They’re lucky because they don't have a Runik's cube for a girlfriend.”
That was all it took for the bomb to go off;
"GET YOUR FAKE GOJO LOOKIN ASS OUT OF MY APARTMENT!”
“W-what-” his question was cut off when she shoved him away, going to grab the nearest object which happened to be the very present she had spent most of her salary on, swinging it right at his face- screw his job. But the bastard was quick when he ducked and tried to get to her, only to get whacked in the head with a candle, “Babe-”
“I SAID LEAVE!” you yelled, staring at him through bleary eyes, trying to keep the whirlwind of emotions, taking a deep breath as you pointed towards the door, feeling the cold slither up your fingertips, choosing the words that would end it all, whoever said dating was fun, was wrong, you’d rather stay single than feel any similar form of pain, though you did feel like you should have the final say in this. It didnt matter that the tall man in front of you looked like he was fumbling with the pieces of your so called relationship, tripping over his words has he tried to sprout out an apology, “Leave, let me relieve you of this burden.”
For you, the conversation had ended there, especially when he was standing outside, not sparing him a moment as you slammed the door on his face. After that, like any San individual you had cleared up the table, initially thinking of throwing out the pizza, but then it hit you - “I work hard to earn too, its not just him.” So you kept that, threw away the candles and the other decorations (stabbed the balloons-naturally). Honestly, you didn't know where his gift went, probably smashed into pieces after it ‘boinked’ off his stupid, giant head. After that you had washed up (cried in the shower for about an hour or so), stumbled towards your bed and knocked out as soon as your head hit the pillow.
The worst kind of ‘black-out’ sleep known to man, is what you endured that night, only to wake up when the fire alarm went off, fighting off the blankets, almost tumbling to your demise several times before entering the kitchen, coughing as the smoke entered your lungs. You opened the nearest window and turned around to bump into a softer form, arms wrapping around your form, before you were dragged out of the apartment and into the balcony, wheezing for your life, taking in as much clean air in one go as possible.
Mingi rubbed her back in a circular motion, a hand holding onto hers, helping her sit down on one of the stools, pulling one closer and sitting right next to her as he held her hand, thinking of going back inside to get her water, though when he felt her squeeze his hand he face turned to meet hers, blinking at her stoic face. Damn, she’s still mad at him.
As soon as clarity hit, she had realised, this moron was back, not only that, it was still night out, so he had graciously trespassed into her apartment, set something on fire, almost killed her and then dragged her out on the balcony, of all the idiots she could’ve picked from to date, she chose the their leader.
“What are you doing here?”
“I was…trying to make you breakfast.”
“I told you its over-the hell? What time is it?”
She got up only to feel him tug her back down, this time onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist so she couldn’t escape, as she glared down at him, “Let go.”
“No…” shaking his head he buried his face in her neck, “ its 5 something, I…I’m sorry.” he whispered, feeling her stiffen in his hold, he knew a mere apology wouldn’t be enough, but he had to start somewhere, especially when he had gone back to the apartment and narrated the entire incident to his two bros- both thus throwing him back out, San adding an, “And don’t come back until you fix your mess, you ungrateful idiot.” Truthfully, he didn’t need to tell him that he had f*cked up, he was well aware of that fact, he just needed a push- that and he was terrified of her, he’d only seen her get angry at her coworkers when they’d mess up work, or that one time she got mad at a couple of highschoolers who thought kicking a puppy was fun, he’d never been the one at the receiving end of her wrath, until today. Perhaps that’s why he had assumed he was all forgiven, all safe, he had some form of immunity, thus, giving him the privilege of being mean to her- well, that theory was stupid. Wat made him assume he could just be mean to her because he felt like it? Since when was he, someone who knows what it felt like to be neglected, begin to neglect his own loved ones? She never fell in love with a man who was like this- what was he doing?
She was about to push him off, especially after he didn’t bother adding anything after his sorry, no explanation, nothing, only to stop when she felt something damp on her skin, realising that he in fact was not rocking them back and forth, but the man child was crying.
“Dude…are you…crying?” she asked, gripping her shoulders as she pushed him away, earning a whine, as the bigger man tried to cover his face with his hands, “Song Mingi, what is wrong with you-”
“I’m sorry, okay!” his whimper had her freezing, eying his face, “I- I didn’t mean it! I don’t know why I said it, okay? It wasn’t cool and I-I know tha- I just- you’ve never, I mean- angry- upset because of me-” his words when she squeezed his cheeks, cupping his warm face, glaring down at him, frowning at the wetness.
“The Song Mingi I fell in love with was a softie- not a red flag like Gojo.”
He could only nod at her statement, fingers gripping onto her harder, cherishing the lack of past tense in her statement.
“Am I going to get him back, or is this the new you?”
She moved her hands to let him speak, only he pulled her flush against him, instinctively her arms wrapped around his shoulders, sighing when she felt his hold tighten. Her small squeak echoed in the quiet of the early morning, blending in with the soft symphony of the birds that had woken up before the sun, as he stood up, slowly walking back inside the apartment. With her legs wrapped around his waist, she blinked up at him, catching his little pout, only to sigh, as he carried her to her bedroom, only stopping at the edge of his bed.
“Can I…sleep with you?”
She hummed for a moment, biting her lip to hide her smile, when she noticed him frown at the time she was taking to answer his question, “What if I say no-SONG MINGI!”
He rolled his eyes at your little scream, he didn’t put his entire body weight on you, though, he did roll around until both of you were wrapped in a soft cocoon, with your back pressed against his warm, broad chest, his arm wrapped around you, as he shamelessly draped a heavy leg over yours. For a while, the two of you lay there silently, watching as the golden beams of the warm morning sun, sifted through the slits of the curtains, creating an luminous mosaic across the opposite wall, the song of the world waking up around you was slowly lulling you to sleep, and just when it became just right, he instantly broke the peaceful atmosphere, “Thank you for the ring.”
“Oh.” so it didnt vanish, he had taken it,
“Most welcome…”you whispered, trying to cling onto the strings of tranquility that were wrapped around you, “Did you take it before I threw you out?”
“Mhmm…is it…a couple ring?” he asked, though a moment later he got no response, causing him to peer down at her, and let out a chuckle, she had fallen asleep- she must’ve been tired, especially after all the stupid things he did yesterday, though his smile widened after his hand trailed down her arm, hand clasping hers, almost shivering with joy at the feeling of the cold metal on her finger.
Jung Wooyoung
Wooyoung had a sharp tongue, he knew that, the guys knew that, hell, you knew that too, but did that mean you were prepared for it? No, of course not, you were his little, itty-bitty, cute pookie- don't hate the name, hate the man who had bestowed it upon you.
He gave you the name when you called him to your apartment for the first time, mind you, it wasn't what Wooyoung was expecting. The first time you had invited him over for the night had him rolling on the ground like a dog, his shy and quiet little girlfriend was willingly fueling his weird side, he couldn't wait to barge into her private space, ask her all sort of questions, learn more about her, tease her, test her limits, take in her reactions, in every sense; physical and psychological.
The moment she had opened the door and his eyes landed on her cotton baby pink shorts, he felt himself shiver with excitement, trying not to howl like a mad dog, scaring her away- though that entire fantasy was short lived when he realised by ‘sleep over’ she literally meant ‘sleep over’, like a …slumber party. So yes, that night they didn't do what he thought they would, but they did; give each other facials, watch a movie while wearing her newly bought sheet masks, paint each other’s nails (well he just made a mess of hers) and do each other's hair, honestly the night ended with him going straight to dreamland once she began to brush his hair, only waking up in the morning to find her snuggled with him, clinging onto him. He liked it, never thought he would, but the moment his eyes noticed the way she was gripping onto his shirt, his heart leaped with joy- it felt nice being loved like this, being needed. Hence, sleepovers like these had become a norm, so much so that sometimes she'd go over to his place unannounced, and surprise him with her little surprise sleepover, one he'd often love it. Instantly attacking her with unlimited smooches, hugging and squeezing her till the air in her lungs would run out.
Unfortunately, tonight was not one of those nights, in fact, when he had walked into his room, the sight of you actually irked him- unsure of why, but your shy smile and gentle eyes just had just made his blood boil. Perhaps it was the stress of the entire day, or the argument he had with San over something stupid, or how Mingi ate his chicken piece, or because Jongho kept on humming a silly tune even on the ride back home. The point is, he was not pleased, and like the love-struck puppy you were, you didn’t register his loud sigh or the way he dropped his bag on the floor, instead, you chose to slide his swivel chair to him, smiling up at him and reaching for his hand, “Hey.”
“Hey,” he said before slipping his hand out of yours and going to his cupboard, all the while struggling to take off his sweatshirt and tossing it somewhere once he was done. He could hear the squeak of the wheel as he turned around and looked at you, taking in the way you were pouting at him, somewhere deep down he found you adorable, but on the surface, he really couldn’t deal with you right now- he just wanted to be alone. Moving around you, he went back out of the room, leaving you confused and a bit hurt. It wasn’t like Wooyoung to react like this, to completely leave you hanging. Sure, he had moments where his social battery would run out, when he’d just come to her apartment and lay on her bed, idly scrolling on his phone, just making enough space for her, when she’d come and lay with him, letting her snuggle into his while he continued doing what he was quietly, neither saying a word- but he had never ignored her.
He looked tired…like he was tired of her? Shaking your head at the thought, you instantly thought of ways to make him feel better, considering his flatmates were outside and he was still in the shower (probably), you looked around his room, you could tidy it up, and you did, and once you were done, you picked up his jacket to hang it in his cupboard only to frown at the mess inside; hang clothes, fold them neatly, align the shoes- as long as Youngie Is less stressed and feels better, that was your goal.
By the time you were done, it had already been an hour. You were hanging the last jacket when the man walked back in, staring at you with the same unreadable expression, completely ignoring your cute smile, watching as you closed the cupboard. You were about to ask him what was bothering him when he tossed the wet towel on the chair and walked out of the room again, but this time you trailed after him, asking him all sorts of questions, just to get him to finally say something.
“How was your day?”
“Fine.”
He walked into the kitchen, you just followed.
“Did you take a rest between practice?”
“Yeah.”
He opened the fridge to take out last night’s pizza, well, this was it then, he turned around and almost cursed, she was standing there with a plate for him. He took it, mumbling a thanks, before putting it in the microwave. Standing there, arms crossed as he glared at the device to bloody hurry up.
“How was the photoshoot?”
“Fine. Nothing new.”
“I brought face masks, wanna wear one later?”
“No.”
“Oh,okay …I got my bonus today.”
“Great.”
“Wanna spend it with me on cute things?”
“No.” he mumbled, “Invest it.” he sighed, before opening the microwave, taking the plate and turning around, only to sigh when he saw her holding a chair out for him, pouting when he frowned at her. Truth be told, he’d never reacted like this, she wasn’t sure what to do? He’d often match her energy- or ‘her freak’, as he’d say. Maybe being nice to him would make him feel better? She sat down on the chair beside him, facing him, though he just started to eat quietly, not really saying anything.
“You want some tea?”
“No.”
“Oh…” you mumbled, looking at your lap, taking a moment to think, before looking up at him, again, watching him take a bite, he was chewing quietly when you gently reached over to tuck some of the stray wet strands behind his ear- though he didn’t seem pleased, in fact, he just let out an irritated huff and turned his head to look at you. You quickly recoiled, mumbling an apology, new tactic, stay quiet, maybe just staying by him would make him feel better. Therefore, you watched him go about his business, watching him wash the plate and put it on the rack before going out of the kitchen.
He finally sat down in front of the TV, rubbing his aching neck, waiting for the damn thing to turn on when he felt the sofa dip, feeling her sitting close to him. He side eyed her before putting on a game, whatever, he’d watch the match on repeat. Hunched forward, elbows on his knees, frowning as he stared at the screen. Okay, so she said she wouldn’t touch him, but if he was in pain, maybe she could help out, massage his shoulders or neck? She moved closer to him, enough for her fingers to graze his arm, “Youngie… you need me to massage it?”
“What I need is for you to not act like an attention deprived clingy girlfriend for a while.”
She froze at his words, slowly watching him get up and walk away mumbling something else about wanting to be left alone, or how he never had a moment of peace- honestly it didn’t matter anymore, his previous sentence had done enough damage. If he wanted to be left alone so be it, she was going to give him exactly what he wanted. Once she heard the door slam shut she sniffled, finally letting the fat tears roll down her flushed cheeks, wiping her nose with the back of her sleeve, his words kept repeating in her mind, over and over again. Without glancing at the time, she decided to go to the only place she'd be able to cry in peace, without giving him the satisfaction of the hurt of his words- that and she wanted to fulfil his wish, she was going to give him some peace and quiet.
Slamming the door shut behind him he mumbled something about being smothered by her as he flopped down on the bed, turning to the side to face the wall as he huffed, closing his eyes. Moments passed but sleep was not something he was blessed with, instead he kept on tossing and turning, finally turning to other side, often her side, of the bed, glaring at it. Why wasn't she here? she’s the one who wanted to spend time with him, rudely showing up here unannounced, interrupting his normal routine, talking away when he was eating, even offering to massage his neck. Was she a masseuse!?
With a huff he sat up and glared around the room, spotting her pink small suitcase, neatly placed at the corner of the room. His eyes flickered to the desk, organised and clean. On it where a variety of neatly stacked face masks, some nail polishes and her makeup pouch. Sliding off the bed, he walked out of the room, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants as he continued grumbling. Granted he was still annoyed but he did need her to sleep and- where was she?
Confused, he looked around the living room, then walked into the kitchen, wondering if she was making tea. She was nowhere in sight. He made his was down the hall to look for her in the washroom, knocking when the door wouldn't open, “You in there?”
“Yes, now scram.”
Ignoring Jongho he walked back into his room, perhaps she had gone back into the room- the panic was beginning to settle in as he slammed open the door to be met with a clean room. Shit. Shit, shit, shit! Where did she go?! His panic began to morph into guilt once the memories of his behaviour with her began to play at the back of his mind.
“Cupcake!?”
Grabbing his phone he went through his contact, tapping on her contact ID 🧚♀Bby Gurl🧚♀️. He pressed the phone against his ear, chewing on his lower lip as he waited for her to pick up, but when he heard the muffled sound of her ringer coming from her PURSE!? Cue Wooyoung going into full panic mode as he ran to her purse, flipping it over on his desk, staring at the phone. Shit. Where did she go?! It was- oh hell no, it was 2 am. He wracked his brain for what could he have said, it was something mean, but truth be told he didn't remember- a toxic trait, he knows, and he's not proud of it, especially since he used it to hurt her.
Deciding it was time to find her, he opened his cupboard to take out a jacket, only to feel his gut clench…she had organised his cupboard too. What the hell Wooyoung? She wasn't your maid, she was only being nice to you! The image of her small frown flashed before his eyes as he zipped up his jacket. He grimaced at the thought of tone he had used with her, how he had ignored her when she tried to touch him, since when he was against skinship? Pulling the door open he came face to face with none other than-
“Mind telling me why I found her crying in the parking lot?”
“Hongjoong move I- What?” his eyes almost popped out of their sockets as he saw his girl standing there behind Hongjoong, staring at the ground with bloodshot eyes.
“I- HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND!?”
You flinched at his tone, whining and hiding behind the man who had spent almost an hour trying to convince you to come back to the apartment. Hongjoong was parking his car when he saw someone sitting there on the concrete ground, next to a very familiar car. You hadn’t said much to him, only that you left your keys upstairs and if he could be kind enough to get them- he wasn’t an idiot, one look at your pink nose and puffy eyes, he knew this had Wooyoung written all over it. Hence, he had to spend an hour trying to convince you to at least come upstairs, it was already too late to go back home.
“Wooyoung.” the older one warned, eying his bandmate who could only sigh and nod, letting him know that his defences were down and he was no longer in the mood for hurting her in any manner, in fact, he wanted nothing more to apologize and beg for her forgiveness. Though, perhaps that’s not how Hongjoong saw it, for he let the girl go into her boyfriend’s room before closing the door so he could have a heart-to-heart talk with this moron.
Once the door closed you walked over to your makeup pouch, taking out your wet wipes and removing the mascara and makeup that had smeared because of all the crying. You quickly changed your clothes, glancing at the door every five seconds in case he was coming in, you were in no mood to talk to him. As soon as you were done you turned off the lights- yeah, you wanted him to trip and land on his stupidly handsome face- and jumped onto the bed, cocooning yourself in his blanket. No, you did not plan on sharing it, though the fact that you were now surrounded by him had a very paradoxical effect; on one hand, you were extremely furious at the man, wanting nothing more than to avoid him for the rest of your life, on the other hand, being surrounded by his being, in his sheets, made you feel safer, made you feel warmer, you liked it- you hated it- you liked it- you hated it- you loved him.
Yet, for some unforsaken reason, he thought shaking you awake from a blissful slumber would be a wonderful idea. As soon as Hongjoong was done with his lecture, he slipped back into the room to talk to her but found her asleep. A part of him wanted her to rest, especially when he removed the blanket from her face, sighing in guilt as he noticed how tired she looked, her brows furrowed even in her sleep- no, he wasn't going be one of those couples that went to bed after a fight.
Her world shook as she gasped, hand grabbing whatever was shaking her, until she flung the hand off her shoulder and turned to the other side mumbling, “Stop it…I'm tired.”
“And I'm sorry.”
You had heard him loud and clear, you even her the guilt in his tone, but did you care? No. you weren't going to be a clingy deprived girlfriend, so you did what he wanted, and ignored him as you closed your eyes again. Trying to ignore him when he apologised again, this type pressing his cheek against yours, rubbing it against yours, and throwing his leg over yours, basically laying half on top of you, “I really am sorry.”
With a huff you shoved him off and sat up, back against the headrest as you glared at him with your arms crossed, cheeks puffed out and-
Oh my god, Wooyoung, she’s pouting. He internally screamed, taking in your droopy eyes, your puffed out rosy cheeks and the way you were pouting- his cutie really was something. He tried to reach for your cheek but you slapped his hand away, causing him to yelp and frown, “I am apologising here.”
“Don’t talk to me, you’re horrible and mean! I just wanna go to sleep, stop pretending you like me!”
Horrible and mean…well, he’s heard worse, so he’d take it. He was mean to you, incredibly mean, and his attitude towards you was horrible. You were right about that, but you were terribly wrong about the last part. Extremely wrong, if he says so himself.
He looked at her intently, almost too intently, and he figured out he’d been giving her the ‘I’m a bastard’ stare when her form, faltered, her eyes began to water, as she bit her lip and broke the stare off, instead, dipping her head in shame like she was the one who was at fault here. Man, what was wrong with him today?
Her grip tightened on the cotton, pulling the blanket closer as if it were to bring her some form of comfort, if he wanted to break up with her that was fine, she just never thought her first break-up would be this nasty. She had mentioned a few times to him how this was her first relationship and although he seemed a bit hesitant, he had explained to her how his job made certain normal couple activities difficult for him sometimes, and if she’d want their relationship to flourish, she’d have to accept this fact. And she did, everything was fine, it was all going well, then what could she have possibly done for him to lash out at her like that? Maybe she was never cut out for this-
“That’s not true…” he whispered, placing his hands on hers, slowly unclenching her fists, his grip tightening on her hands when he heard her whimper, frowning at the way she hiccupped an apology again, looking up at him this time, as if she were trying to cling onto something that had slipped through her fingers. “That’s not true…and that’s not right,” with a heavy sigh he pulled her closer, wrapping her arms around his neck, manoeuvring them, till he was in her position, and now she was on his lap, arms around his neck, clinging onto him, dampening his shirt as loud sobs wracked through her petite frame, mumbling nonsense that he couldn’t interpret, “And…I’m sorry I made you think like that today.” Gently, he pressed his lips against her head, rubbing her back in a soothing motion, slowly giving her a squeeze every so often, pulling her closer, if possible. By the time she had calmed down, a bit, he slowly pushed her off his chest so he could look at her, but she never met his gaze, causing him to gently grip her chin, making her look up at him, “Hey…don’t look away,” he smiled at her, “Don’t hide that pretty face from me.” His smile faltered when he noticed her lower lip tremble, sighing as he cupped her face with both hands, “I am truly, extremely sorry for what I did and said today,” leaning closer he pressed his lips against her forehead, “Nothing I said or did today was triggered because of you being here- there is no explanation for my behaviour other than the fact that I handled my emotions poorly, and took it all out on that one person,” he paused to give her a smile, especially when he felt her grip tighten on his shirt, “the only person, who is concerned about my wellbeing and livelihood, and wants nothing but my love in return.”
“Woo…” she sniffed, pouting at him as she tugged on his shirt, “What made you so upset today?”
He could chuckle at the way she was still worried about him, of course, leave it to his little love bug to be more concerned about ‘why’ he did what he did, just as soon as he apologises. Shaking his head in disbelief he booped her nose, shrugging, “Never mind that, do you want something to eat? I’ll whip up something real good, an apology feast for my lovely pookie.” His laugh bounced off the walls of his room once he noticed her visibly cringing at the nickname, “No? Well, how about I make sweet love to you, enough to have you screaming for more-” her hands clasped over his mouth, muffling his stupidity as she sighed in relief, resting her forehead against and closing her eyes to recover from the blush.
When she felt him tap her waist she moved her hands and sighed, “Just hold me close.”
“Well, don’t need to ask me twice.” Wooyoung declared before pushing her off him cackling when he heard her squeak, wiggling her eyebrows at her, admiring how she almost bounced on his bed, before laying down, pulling her closer. His smile widened when she snuggled into him, gripping onto the back of his shirt, before her lips gently pressed against his skin, admiring the warmth, basking in his presence. He pulled up the blanket, covering them both, before placing his chin on top of her head, sighing in relief, trying to rid of the bad memories of the day. Letting the tranquil love envelope the two, enjoying just being there…that is until a soft whisper broke the silence, followed by another;
“Make it up to me tomorrow.”
“I’ll make it up to you for the rest of your life”
Choi Jongho
Okay, yes, he was a bastard, he was well aware of that, but right now, the charming man had something else on his mind. What you ask, oh its simple, it was the same question almost every guy in the world had, the same dilemma every man in the world suffers through, an event every man self-induces; the, ‘How do I make my girlfriend feel better after I brought up her insecurities’. Now, one may wonder, what did this sweet little lad do? How could he possibly manage to upset his girl, his daisy, his lover, his sweety- well, it all started when he came down with a little cold, and the dictator Kim Hongjoong banned him from the studio and the dorm, which meant there would be no one acting at his every whim, hence, the little lad had to go to the next best thing, go to the only person who made his heart flutter like he just devoured some mentos after chugging a cola- his girlfriend.
It all started fine, with you opening the door, ready to go for a nightly jog when you saw your cute boy standing at the door, with his nose all pink and stuffy and his pout making your heart clench. Next thing he knew he was pulled inside and tucked into your fluffy, soft bed, being taken care of like there was no tomorrow. You were kind and sweet and ever caring, you’d always been like that, even before the two had started dating.
You were so kind to him that you actually had the poor boy chasing you for almost a year. Now why is that one may wonder, simple, you were older than him- two years to be precise. The two of you had met by complete accident, you were out for your nightly jog and you had somehow managed to trip on the cracked footpath. Honestly you had thought no one was around so you hobbled to the nearest bench, trying to untie your shoe, when you heard someone clear their throat, causing you to freeze. He was big, you could tell and it wasn't just because of that hoodie and cap or mask- no, he looked borderline threatening. With an audible gulp you whispered, “Y-yes?”
“Do you need help with that?” He asked, lowering his mask a bit and standing up before crouching next to your foot, causing you to flinch and shake your head but he was already slipping it off your foot, trying to not react to your bright yellow, Pikachu themed sock.
“You should be careful” he mumbled, inspecting the damage, “I think you just sprained it, if you want I could take you to an ER near by-”
“No thank you!” You cut him off, he was cute, there was no doubt in that, he looked sweet but hey, he was a guy and he was a guy who looked big enough to kill yo-
“My name's Jongho.” He sighed, and looked around, before sitting next to her, “And you are, strange nighters jogger?”
You blinked at him and sighed out your name, before mumbling, “What's an Ateez member doing out here in the middle of the night?”
His blood ran cold at the mention of his band, causing him to slowly side eye her, though she looked as composed as ever, like she had just talked about the weather.
“I…uh-”
“Don't worry,” she mumbled, before sitting straight and stretching her, “Okay, I'm gonna go now.”
“Let me help you out.”
Honestly, the words had left him sooner than he could process them, his body had moved on its own, and in a matter of minutes she found herself sitting in an apartment she had never dreamt of before too, pressing an ice pack on her ankle, listening to Jongho and another man, Hongjoong battle it out.
“I’m sorry, but a random stranger?”
“Technically I see her jogging every day- or well at night.”
“So??”
“Technically she’s hurt.”
“Technically, Choi Jongho this isn’t a hospital.”
“Technically, it's rude to discuss someone in front of them, pretending they can’t hear you.”
That had led the older man to apologise and leave them alone. That very statement had led Jongho to believe that he had found someone who could ‘match his freak’. So, after a year of jogging with her, he had finally managed to woo her. He liked their dynamic, he was the eldest in his home, he was bossy and of course mature, hence, he had assumed he’d prefer someone younger than him, someone more timid and shy, someone who’d be impressed by him- though the only thing she was severely impressed with was his potential to snap several apples in half, which was great, because she loved eating apples and he loved snapping them in half- he loved you.
Then, how come, you were now sitting on the same bench, where you had met the moron, questioning your entire relationship- oh yeah, because when you forced him to drink his soup so he’d get better quicker, he decided to be a brat and snap at her;
“If I wanted to be coddled, I would’ve gone to my mom, you’re older, but not that old.”
Sure, leave it to Choi Jongho to bring up your insecurities because- well, not really, Jongho was often very sweet and considerate, he was attentive and mindful of both his actions, and his words, so if he had decided to let out something so bitter and rude, it really did mean he was sick. But did that make it any better? Did that mean he could just bring up something they’d discuss in the late hours of the night, alone with one another, surrounded by one another, vulnerable to one another. It was during these hours he had confessed how he was afraid she’d leave him for someone older, smarter, more mature, only for his whispers to turn into a snort when she told him how she was afraid that he’d leave her for someone younger than him, someone sweeter, and cuter, more shy and more timid. The two had slept better that night, snuggled up against each other, she loved how he had held her tighter than night, he had loved how she had let them sleep in the next morning, only to spend a few more minutes together.
So, no, he could not just say whatever he wanted because he was sick-
“You wanna get sick too?”
She flinched at the question, before letting out a small sigh at the familiarity of the voice, though she never turned to look at him, instead decided to leave.
He turned to glance at you when you had ignored him, only for him to panic when you stood up to leave, instinctively reaching over and gripping your wrist he met your cold glare. For once he felt as if being cute was not going to make the cut, that you were not going to ‘act mature’ or ‘overtly understanding’, for once, he was scared. Though his grip never faltered, instead, you heard a meek, “Please,” so soft that if the world around the two of you was not deathly silent, you would’ve missed it. With a sigh you sat back down, but kept your distance, choosing to stare at the empty park, rather than looking at your lover, who was scooting closer to you. You let him, you let him, till his arm brushed against yours, the two of you staring at the empty park together, both waiting for the other to speak- technically you were waiting for an apology, while he was waiting for you to give him the signal to speak, he was too afraid to say anything else which could be more stupid than his last statement.
So, like a pair of fools, the two of you sat there, out in the cold, silently, for god knows how long. Honestly, you were surprised with his patience sometimes, you were also a bit disappointed he chose not to speak, but then again since when was speaking about your feelings his or your strongest trait- oh shit.You gasped when you felt his head drop on your shoulder, suddenly turning to the man, cupping his cold cheeks, as you shook him, “Jongho? Jong? Jongho wake up, come on, this isn’t funny- shit.”
.
With a groan he turned to his side, snuggling closer to the source of the warmth- oh he was back in his bed. HE WAS BACK IN HIS BED?? Sitting up he looked around in the dimly lit room, noting how the door was slightly open, deciding to go outside to look for her when she walked in holding a tray, eying him before mumbling something about laying back down. Honestly, it was difficult for him to process whatever she was saying next…he remembered fainting, well, actually he felt sleepy so he had just closed his eyes for a moment, and right now, he was more amazed by the sheer physical strength this woman possessed. Lord forgive if she were to smack him, he would’ve needed facial reconstructive surgery.
You placed the tray on the nightstand, and turned to him, helping him sit up against the headboard, before checking his temperature with the back of your hand, “You fainted…I called Hongjoong, who then called San…apparently you’re very difficult to carry.” You mumbled, moving to grab the tray, placing it on his lap, “Chicken soup, will help with the congestion and-”
“I’m sorry.”
“You better be.”
He blinked at her and nodded slowly before looking at the soup and staring at it, a moment had slipped before he chuckled, turning to look at her, admiring how she was now sitting on her side of the bed, facing him, “I thought you carried me here- was so scared if you were actually to smack me, I’d pass away.”
“Is this your way of apologising to me? Maybe I should be looking for guys my age or older” you frowned, only to end up snorting when you saw his eyes widen in fear, taking in the way he had stopped eating, staring at you like he was about to explode. Honestly, you wanted to let it simmer for a while, but when he whispered out your name, the way his voice cracked had you sighing in defeat, moving the tray off him and placing it at a safe distance, before you were tackled by him. His arms tightened around you, face buried in your neck as he mumbled something, which you couldn’t make out, but you presumed it was an apology, considering how your neck felt wet- oh no he was crying- well, didn’t mean to take it that far. Gently patting his head you slid down into the sheets, taking him with you, though he didn’t really do anything but hold you closer, his little sniffles making your heart ache.
“It was a joke…” sighing you kissed the top of his head, “I didn’t mean it…but at least now you know how I felt.”
He pulled back a little to glare at you, “It’s not funny, you can pull anyone you want, I only managed to date you because you tripped.”
“That’s because I fell for you, baby bear-hey!”
“And the moment is gone.” he mumbled, pushing her away and laying on his back, clearing his throat, “Got more sick after that pick up line,” he felt her snuggle next to him as he smiled with his eyes closed, “Even more gross how I like it.”
“You like being sick?”
“Only if it means spending time with you.”
“Oh good, because my head hurts and I can feel the flu comin’ up.”
“Don’t worry, I know how to treat my lady right.”
Taglist: @edenesth @skteezcursed @mlysalt @the-kpop-simp @spooo00oky @bunnyluvr25 @s-h-y-a @ateezswonderland
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spencer x british!reader
as a brit i would love to see a fic of a reader with a british accent and spencer adores it and mimics her sometimes
Taking It In (Spencer Reid x British Fem!Reader)
A/N: Thank you so much for the request! This is a bit of a team effort because I’m a bit more knowledgeable about British culture (in no means an expert, I just had a hyperfixation on the Beatles and Doctor Who in middle school/ high school lmao) but Mod Angel is usually the one who writes for fem!readers. Also, we’re both American so we hope this is what you wanted! Sorry for the little wait - Mod Ghost
We also just binged season 2 of Heartstopper and tried our best to pick up on some of the language because we thought this was a really cute idea and wanted to write it as best we could! - Mod Angel
~~~
“Coffee? I thought that people from the UK drank tea?” Spencer piped up from behind as his girlfriend was pouring coffee into one of the paper cups she’d found around the canteen.
“It heavily depends on who you’re talking to, Spencer. I feel you should know just as well as I do that everyone’s different. You didn’t profile me as soon as we started dating?” Y/N joked, to which he looked puzzled.
“Wha–no, I usually try to keep my job separate from…personal relations.” He replied sheepishly, starting to mix up his own mug of coffee.
“That changed when we started dating, didn’t it, love?” She teased him, patting his shoulder.
It made him blush and stutter like mad, his hands waving around as he tried to scramble to find something to say. It was rare to see him speechless, but she couldn’t help but to smirk as she watched him struggle. It only lasted a few more seconds before she cut him off, reaching out and gently touching his hand.
“It’s alright, I was just being cheeky, that’s all. C’mon, let’s go back to workin’ on the case, okay?” She chuckled, leading him away from the counter with the hand that wasn’t holding her coffee resting at the small of his back as they walked.
“I knew that!” He squealed in his own defense, which made her giggle loudly.
*
A few weeks later, the BAU were out to dinner, taking a small break while in the middle of a case. Though, it wasn’t much of a break, considering they were still talking about the profile.
Spencer pointed to a plate in the middle of the table. “Can I have a chip?”
A confused silence fell over the table as they all looked in his direction. Spencer stared back at them, an eyebrow raised in his own confusion.
“What?” Spencer asked finally, breaking the silence.
“What did you just say?” JJ responded with a smirk, raising an eyebrow at him.
“I asked if you could pass me a chip” he answered, pointing to the plate again.
“Where do you see chips?” Hotch chimed in, concerned for his mental stability.
Still confused, Spencer pointed to the plate again.
“The fries?” Penelope clarified, gesturing to the same plate finally.
“Oh.” He nodded awkwardly. “Yeah, can you pass me a fry?”
“You’re really spending too much time with that girlfriend of yours, aren’t you?” Morgan teased, grinning and playfully nudging his shoulder.
He smiled and shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said in a faux-English accent as he finally got the ‘chip’ he wanted as the rest of the table laughed.
“Speaking of Y/N, where is she tonight?? I miss that girl.” Garcia complained from the other side of the table,
“Oh, she went out with one of her mates–” Spencer started before Prentiss cut him off from where she was sat next to him,
“Mates??” She asked incredulously, seconds away from giggling as he groaned and leaned back in his chair.
“FRIENDS! Her friends.” he grumbled, finishing his food and making a mental note to not only tell but blame his girlfriend, Y/N, for everything he’d been through tonight. Not before giving her a kiss, though. The fact that she wasn’t here just made him realize how much he missed her, and it made him wonder if there was a correlation between missing her and talking like her.
The girls dropped him off at home a few hours later, where the first thing he said when he saw Y/N was ‘this is your fault’.
“Do you…want to elaborate on that or…?”
“Later.” Was all he said before he was hugging her and burying his head in her shoulder.
She tugged him close, feeling him start breathing deeply against her shoulder as if he was falling asleep and tapped him to wake him up a bit so she could start leading him to their room. “Come along, darling, let’s get you into bed. You seem tired.”
“I know that they’re fries but you say chips…it’s cute…” he mumbled as he walked, only adding to the confusion but she chalked it up to him being tired from a long day and let it go for now as she tucked him in with a smile at how cute he was.
#spencer reid#fanfiction#criminal minds#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds fanfiction#ghosty#mod angel#mod ghost#spencer reid fluff#british#british speaking Y/N#request#thank you for submitting !!
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Ghostface One Shot
Warnings: SMUT 18+, choking, lottts of knife play, language, rough sex
Word Count: 3,366
Work was such a drag, you were more than happy to be in for the night. You closed the door to your bedroom and threw your bag into the corner. You sat down at the edge of the bed and ran your hands through your hair with a sigh. A breeze blew into the room and you turned to see the curtains dancing in the wind. You were glad you'd left your window open, it at least ensured the room stayed cool. You began to lie down, but just before your head met the pillow, your phone rang.
"God, what now?" You mumbled to yourself as you sat back up to dig through your bag.
You fingers finally found it and you quickly lifted it to see it was an unknown caller. You rolled your eyes and pressed decline. Just before you set it back down, it rang again. The same words appeared on the screen and you narrowed your eyes. Telemarketers didn't usually call twice. You decided to take a chance and answer it, expecting some collect caller on the other end.
"Hello?" You said, annoyed.
"Why'd you hang up?" A man's voice responded in an almost playful tone.
The casual question he asked threw you off. You pulled the phone back and double checked the screen to see if you'd mistakenly read it wrong, but no. It was definitely an unknown number.
"Hello?" You heard the man say in that same playful tone.
You hesitantly put the phone back up to your ear, "Who is this?"
"A friend," the man said.
"I'm sorry, I don't know your number, do I know you?"
"Really? I know yours," he said coolly, "what's your name?"
"(Y/n)," you answered against your better judgment, "what's yours?"
"(Y/n)," he repeated slowly, "pretty name for a pretty girl. I like it."
You furrowed your brow in confusion, "So you do know me?"
"No," he said with a laugh, "but I'd like to."
You stood up and began to pace the room, "You've got a funny way of introducing yourself."
"I'm a funny guy," he said almost sinisterly.
You glanced out your window half expecting to see whoever this was standing out there, but your yard was empty. You knew you should have hung up the phone by now, but you were a sucker for a little mystery.
"Do you want to play a game, (y/n)?"
It was like he knew.
"I feel like my answer should be no, but," you trailed off as you considered just how bad of an idea this would turn out to be, "I can't say I'm not tempted to say yes."
"Maybe it should be, but life is more fun when there's a little risk involved, right?"
You laughed, but hesitated to answer his original question.
"Let me make this easier for you," he said in that sinister tone again, "you're going to play a game with me, (Y/n)."
"Alright," you said defiantly, "let's play."
"Smart girl," he said with laugh, "first question. Do you scare easy?"
"No," you said flatly.
You went to close your window. At this point you were certain this was a bad idea, yet you still wanted to play. Desperate for some distraction from the monotony of day to day life. Stupid, is what you were being, but you just kept playing along.
"Are you scared right now?" He asked.
"Should I be?"
"Maybe," he said quietly, "next question, or rather, next task. I want you to look under your bed."
"Is this some kind of Halloween prank?" You said abruptly.
He started to laugh, "What do you think?"
"I think I'm gonna hang up now," you said, mocking his strange voice.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said, more serious than before, "now look under your bed."
Your eyes wandered towards the floor and over to the darkness hiding behind the part of your duvet that hung over the side of the bed. You slowly walked over to it and lifted it up.
"Do it," he said, the grin on his face was almost audible, "get on your knees."
Now you knew he was watching you, he had to be. You slowly did as he asked and peered into the darkness. You braced yourself, half frightened you might find him underneath, but as your eyes adjusted you found there was nothing there. You couldn't believe you were thinking it, but you were almost a little disappointed. Boredom had really taken its toll on you, you thought to yourself. Here you were finding entertainment in this stranger's most definitely threatening game.
"There's nothing under here," you chimed into the phone.
"You're right. That would be too obvious, wouldn't it? Check your closet," he commanded.
"Isn't that even more obvious? Come on, you sound more creative than that," you teased as you glided over to the closet to find it too was empty.
"You think so?" He asked in a more amused tone, "look out your window."
"I did, but you already knew that," you said as you moved towards the window like he asked.
"Now you're catching on. What do you see?"
Your eyes moved back and forth, scanning the shadows with care, "I don't see anything."
"Look closer," he whispered.
You moved in towards the glass and strained your eyes further. The yard was empty as could be, but something caught your gaze and it wasn't outside. You felt your heart rate pick up when you noticed the face looking back at you in the reflection. Two black eyes, an open mouth on a pale white mask, and a black hood that covered his entire body. It was faint, but there was no way your mind was playing tricks on you. He was right behind you. Ghostface was right behind you.
"Are you scared now?" He asked in your ear.
You looked right back at him through the reflection and lied through your teeth, "No."
You noticed the gleam of a blade and watched him rest it on your shoulder. He let it drag down your arm, pulling on the slim strap of your tank top as it moved. He was careful not to draw blood. Yet.
"You wouldn't lie to me, would you?" He whispered as he tilted his head to the side.
"Never," you replied quickly and quietly, "you're the one all over the news, you're Ghostface."
"See, you do know me," he teased as he continued to drag the knife up and down your arm.
"Are you going to kill me?" You asked as calmly as you could manage.
"I was," he replied with a sigh as he played with that strap again, "but you did so well during our first game. So obedient."
You were silent as you watched him contemplate with that knife. You knew he could clearly hear how shaky your breath was. Life may have been boring, but you weren't ready to die.
"Do you think we should play another? Something a little," he quickly turned the knife upwards and cut through your tank top's strap, "different."
You tried your hardest to stop that gasp from escaping your mouth, but it couldn't be helped. He began to play with the strap on your other shoulder, still slow as ever but he was pressing a little firmer with the blade, tempted to draw just a bit of blood.
"Does this game end with me breathing?" You asked as the cold metal began to raise goosebumps on your skin.
"That depends on how well you play," he whispered in your ear.
You hated that the way he said it made you almost excited to find out what exactly this game would be. Though, you had a good idea of what to expect, at least for the most part. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on your part. You were beginning to wonder just how sick you were upstairs. You wanted to play and he could tell. There was something about the way he spoke, the sound of his voice and the mystery of it all. You watched his head tilt from one side to the other in the reflection. The idea of being so damn good in bed that even Ghostface himself wouldn't want to kill you somehow made this even more exciting. You knew you should have been scared, terrified and probably running, but you were up for the challenge.
"So what do you say?" He asked as he began to pull that other strap up with the knife, "Wanna take one more risk, (Y/n)?"
"Let's play."
As soon as the words left your mouth he cut it, "I was hoping you'd say that," he said before he grabbed the back of your top and sliced it open down the middle.
It fell away, revealing your black bra to him which he acknowledged with a devilish laugh. He rolled the remains of your tank top up and quickly grabbed your hands to bind them behind you. Once he was sure they were tight enough he turned you around to face him. He took his knife and placed it on your lips. He used the flat end to pull your bottom lip down, leaving your mouth open for him to admire. He then dragged it down your chin, neck, down to your chest and to the front of your bra. He traced your breasts, circling each of them with the sharper side of his knife now, taunting you. You knew he liked your obedience before, but you were tempted to try something different.
"Are you just gonna stare at me all night," you said as you watched the knife over your nose, "or are you gonna do something?"
The knife stopped moving and he cocked his head at you. A gloved hand flew up to your throat and he wrapped it around you in a painfully tight grip. You winced, but you couldn't say you didn't enjoy the display of dominance.
"You wanna be a brat now, huh?" He said before he leaned his masked face into yours until your nose almost touched, "I'll do what I want, when I want, for however long I want. Understood?"
"Then what do you want?" You choked out as your eyes wandered through those dark black holes to just barely catch a glimpse of his own.
He let out a low chuckle before he moved in close to your ear, you felt him cut your bra open, "I wanna make you scream."
Before you even had a chance to think of a response, he turned you both and threw you onto the bed. You tried to use your bound hands to push yourself up when you felt him grab at your shorts. He struggled to undo the buttons and ended up using his knife to snap them.
"You won't be needing these," he said as he pulled them off of you to admire the lace of your panties, "or these."
He grabbed each of your legs and swiftly dragged you to the edge of the bed. Your head hit the mattress and your breath hitched when you felt that knife on your bare inner thigh. It's cold touch made you squirm, but he was quick to stop you. He didn't want you going anywhere.
"No moving," he said as his free hand forced your thigh back so he could tease you further, "not until I say so."
He let it wander further this time, exploring up from the inside of your knee all the way back to his original spot. Then he moved it more inward. Part of you was terrified of what exactly he was planning to do with that knife, the other desperately needed touch. With all of you exposed to him, the tip of his knife dragging dangerously close to the most sensitive part of you, your body was both itching to be pleased and trembling with fear of the unknown. Suddenly, you no longer felt the knife. You stared up at the ceiling, so tempted to push yourself up to see what he was doing, but you did your best to resist the urge. Then you felt breath between your thighs. He must have taken his mask off. His mouth was so close to touching you, but other than a quick brush, he gave you nothing. You squirmed again in an attempt to find him where you needed him and felt both of his hands fall heavy on your hips, holding you down harder. You whined in response and he let out a laugh, which only worsened your state. You could practically feel the vibration of his voice where you wanted him most.
"You're only making this worse for yourself," he said in a self satisfied tone, he loved what he was doing to you, "you want it that bad? Beg for it."
"And if I don't?"
"It's your life at stake, isn't it? I suggest you do as I say and tell me just how badly you want me to taste you," he said, his lips just barely brushing against the top part of your inner thigh as he spoke.
"So badly," you breathed.
You felt him nip at your skin, "No, no. Say it."
"I want you to taste me."
"I said beg," he said through gritted teeth.
He bit down again and a moan escaped your lips, "Please, I want you to, I need you to taste me," you cried.
"Louder."
"I'm begging you, please," you said louder, you thought you sounded so pathetic with how desperate you were at this point.
"I want your fucking neighbors to hear you," he spat up at you.
"God, just please fuck me already, I want you to fuck me," you screamed.
"Good girl," he said as he pulled your hips forward.
When his tongue finally met your sweet spot, your neck arched back, "Yes," you breathed.
God, you had never wanted anything so bad. The feeling of his tongue exploring you so gently, steadily adding more pressure with each flick was heaven. He was good, more than good. It was as if he knew exactly how to work you, every little thing he did was exactly what you needed him to do. Not one wrong move was made. You were already unraveling under his touch. No one had ever teased you like that before, your body was begging for release before he had even touched you, just as he had planned. You started to tense when you felt the vibration of the groan that escaped him against you. That, mingled with the pressure of his tongue, made you let out an almost pathetic whine. He could tell he had you on the brink.
"Not yet," he ordered, "not until I'm inside you."
But you were already right there. It was beyond your control, but he knew that. You felt his fingers dig into your hips as he grew frustrated at you're inability to hold off any longer. Just before you could get the release you were aching for, he pulled away. Before you could complain, you felt his hands grip your waist and flip you over. He grabbed your hips and pulled you back, forcing you on your knees. You started to turn your head to look back at him, you just knew he didn't have the mask on anymore, he had taken it off while he was between your legs and you wanted to see his face. Just before you could catch a glimpse, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced your head back as he thrusted into you. You cried out and squeezed your eyes shut as he went as deep as he could go, making you burn with pleasure.
"Now you can cum," he said through gritted teeth as he began his brutal pace.
With or without his permission, you were going to. Your body was doing all the begging for you now. You pushed back against him to meet his thrusts, and before long you felt that knot that had begun to form when his tongue was in you start to snap. He could tell he was hitting the right spot and a self satisfied smirk formed on his face. He tightened his grip on your hair and went harder until he felt you clench around him.
He pulled your head up more so he could whisper in your ear, "Now scream for me."
You did just as he asked as your climax hit you harder than any other you'd had before. He watched your fists clench in their binds, desperate for something to hold onto as he fucked you through your orgasm. He took his other hand and brought it to his mouth so he could rip his glove off, then he pulled you up further so he could use his fingers to play with you. Your body writhed as he worked you for yet another orgasm. The overstimulation only made you louder, which earned another sinister laugh from him.
"You're such a fucking mess for me, aren't you?" He said as he moved his fingers faster, drove himself into you harder.
You were and you were about to find further release. He felt you tighten around him again and this time, it was going to send him over the edge with you. His breath became uneven in your ear and he let go of your hair to force your hips harder against his own. You heard him muttering a slew of curses in a breathy voice as his thrusts became sloppier, more desperate. He let out a few whines of his own, but god were they amazing to hear. They drew you closer to that second orgasm you were chasing and when you finally found it you felt him find his own inside you. His head fell back as he rode through it. Then he stopped, breathing heavily over you. Your head was spinning and you barely even noticed him grab the knife that was lying beside you. He quickly cut the bind on your hands and your arms fell limp at your sides. He laughed at your annihilated state before he pulled out of you. You felt his hand reach around to lift you up by your throat. He pressed your back against his chest and turned your head with his gloved hand so he could place a firm kiss to your lips. You would have returned it better than you did, but after being fucked silly, you barely had any energy left to give him. He let go and you fell forward, thankfully your hands found the mattress before your face did. You pushed yourself up and looked over at him. His mask was still off and your jaw dropped. You did know him, you'd never spoken to him, but you definitely knew who he was.
"Stu?" You asked, dumbfounded.
He flashed that funny smile of his at you as he admired the shock on your face, then he mocked you with a shocked look of his own, "(Y/n)?"
"You- but I, you're- you're Ghostface?" You asked confused.
"Surprise," he said as he put his other glove back on.
You furrowed your brow, "But, why-"
"Come on. I've been trying to get your attention for weeks. Nothing seemed to be working, but this," he said cockily, "this definitely worked."
You felt your face heat up as he lifted the mask up to his face, "Didn't it?"
Oh, it definitely worked.
"So you're not gonna kill me?" You asked as you watched him lift your window open.
"After that? Are you kidding me?" He said with an astonished laugh, "No way."
He watched you smirk in response. He flashed that smile one more time before he threw his mask back on. He started to climb out the window, but turned back to you.
"So," he said through the voice modulator, "I'll call you?"
#ghostface#slasher#slasher smut#slasher fucker#stu macher#horror#horror smut#horror fiction#slasher oneshot#slasher x reader#scream#scream oneshot#whats your favorite scary movie#horror fan#horror fanfiction#slasher fanfiction#slasher fandom#slasher simp#ghostie#stu matcher x reader#s
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𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐭.
Chapter 4 : Choices & Consequences
cw : implied domestic abuse and alcoholism
— — —
The rest of the day goes by as per usual for how your first days typically go. You arrived, attended a brief (albeit tense) briefing, returned to your quarters to settle in, and now you found yourself heading to the canteen.
Just in time for dinner. Yippee… You can already feel yourself wanting to rush the entire affair. Get in, grab your food, eat, get out. You repeat in your head.
It was bustling, much to your dismay. A big cafeteria-like room with tables and booths for various groups to sit at. Light wood seemingly used to brighten up what else would be a dreary interior, given the numerous amount of camouflage uniforms that filled up said chairs and booths. Still it gave you flashbacks to high school. Times when you were more happy at school than at home. Truth be told, anywhere was better than being home with your mother and her new boy-toy of the month.
Shit seemed so much simpler then…
You get in line, grab an empty tray, silverware, and await your turn. Sliding down in tandem with the others before you. Ahead you spot Mohawk— er, Soap. His ocean blue eyes looking up to the person next to him, twinkling with a hint of mischief while he cracks a joke. You can hear the warmth in his laugh as it makes his shoulders shake. When was the last time you laughed like that?
Your eyes move from the man— who’s been nicknamed after a freakin’ cleaning product —up to land on who he’s chattering to. Oh? He’s actually making conversation with the Lieutenant? Well, as much as one can when talking to a brick wall. Yet, it looks like Ghost is engaging with him. Making comments back and entertaining the whole conversation.
For whatever reason, the sight of Soap and Ghost in that moment eats at you. That closeness, that solidarity. The way the shorter man speaks with such ease to the other. Comfortable, light, open. With he who also seemed to be attentively listening and conversing back. It makes you feel something you haven’t wanted to think about for the past year.
Something, somewhere nips at you. Deep inside, in the far back of your mind. The beast rattles its cage. It’s familiar fangs not having lost their edge. You thought you had muzzled this beast, locked it up and threw away the key. Yet, here it was. Back to remind you what you hate the most. It opens its jaws, drool dripping from its hungry maw. It growls, low and rumbling like distant thunder.
You’re lonely.
No, there’s a difference between being alone and being lonely, you try to silence that voice. Squash it before it has a chance to burrow any deeper. Besides, it’s not like you hadn’t seen others interact like that before. What made this any different? What had changed?
You feign ignorance, but the beast sees through it.
You both knew the truth.
Shit.
Your attention snaps back just as those deep brown eyes flick to you, effectively catching you staring. Your body tenses for a second before you force yourself to relax. Still you don’t shy away from his gaze. Yeah, he caught you. So what? Trying to justify it to yourself and brush off the fact that he caught you. You were pretty sure he’s been watching every move you make since the meeting and you just happen to do it more blatantly.
Your eyes only tear away from the silent stare-off when you turn your head to the man serving you a scoop of green beans. Muttering a small, polite ‘thank you’ before looking back. Only to see the pair of them gone, likely heading to their own table.
Thank fuck for that.
Finishing your way down the line, you look around the room. A private corner where you can eat in peace and hopefully retire for the evening. But that’s when you spot the group of men huddled in a corner, commandeering a large table. The whole Task Force minus Price. All buddy-buddy with each other.
You got two choices here, Stray.
That beast bares its fangs once more. Its pacing back and forth in the back of your mind. Like a rabid dog trapped in a cage you put it in. Reminding you of what you felt only seconds ago. Merely a drop in what was an ocean worth of repressed feelings inside you. The ones you’ve be struggling to fight back, especially this past year.
Gaz was the one who was the first to meet your gaze. His polite smile now curling the ends of his lips. A curt nod offered to you.
Great, now you really can’t pretend you didn’t see him.
With a sigh, you head over to the table. This time opting for the seat furthest away from Ghost. You take the edge seat, easily able to dip out if you’d want to, and feel as if Ghost takes note of this. Gaz sat to your right and Soap across from you. Ghost, being diagonal, merely offered a grunt to your presence.
Well, at least it looks like you’re making an effort to be friendly.
“How are you settlin’ in?” Gaz asks, seemingly trying to be the first one to offer an olive branch.
“Good, Good.” You answer, giving a few nods to aid your inexperience with small talk.
Gaz’s attempt at initiating conversation with you skirts the edges of Ghost's attention, the barrier of his own indifference momentarily wavers. Your response was hesitant, almost mechanical, and he can't help but analyze the slight restraint in your voice. Ghost had studied similar responses in others— it's part of his skill set —and he knows it suggests either a lack of trust or discomfort.
Gaz, who seems pleased with the exchange, regardless of its brevity, continues, "Anything you need help with, let us know, yeah?" He means for it to sound casual, but the concern is evident.
Soap chimes in, his infectious grin not dimming in the slightest. "Aye! An’ don't mind mean ol’ Ghostie there," he says cheerfully, slicing a chunk off his steak and pointing his knife at the stoic lieutenant. "He's got a soft spot, jus' buried deeper than the bloody Mariana Trench, is all."
Ghost, unable to stay silent any longer, glances at Soap with a pointed stare that seems to carry an unspoken ‘watch it’, before turning his attention to you. His expression remains blank, everything but his eyes hidden behind that ever-present skull balaclava. "She doesn’t need to be mollycoddled," he speaks to Soap, but the message carries to the whole table, including you. "She's a mercenary, not a bloody recruit."
After that, the group slowly continues their conversations. Ghost’s input causing a brief lull before Soap started up about one of his favorite stories of having a close call during a mission. Gaz engaging only to make sure Soap’s ability to over-embellish didn’t take away from the actual tale.
You sat there, an outsider looking in. Their closeness evident in the way they talk and tease each other, almost like close siblings. Soap and Gaz riling each other up while Ghost quietly eats.
Your eyes couldn’t help but glance the rare sight of skin. Noticing how he’s only opted to roll up his balaclava instead of taking it off. So he does wear that thing 24/7… The strong jawline of his profile, slight stubble on his chin, the pink of his lips, and the various white scars that was chipped from his skin. Only there was one that immediately caught your attention.
It was a deeper one. Starting from the corner of his lips extending back, curling slightly upwards. It looked jagged, cut roughly and with little care. Small branches breaking off of the deeper stem.
Glasgow scars.
You try not to look for too long. Eyes immediately darting back to the tray in front of you. You hated when people stared at yours. After your little tiff in the meeting room and awkward staring contest, you’d rather avoid any more offensives at the moment. For lack of wanting Laswell or Price to pull you away and give you one last warning to ’play nice’.
But still, seeing his skin marred reminded you of your own. You could still clearly picture the stolen glance of his jaw in your mind’s eye. The brief, almost fleeting image causing a phantom burning sensation in your left cheek. That deep etch of your own reminding you of its presence.
Dinner was mediocre. Typical military food. Bland, but enough to keep your body fueled. With an empty tray in hand, you give a nod to excuse yourself. Normally you would’ve just left when you were finished. Hell, you wouldn’t have even sat with them. Yet you sat there, lingering after you finished your meal. Just listening. Why? Disposing any bits of leftovers in the bin, you stack your dirty tray with the others then leave the canteen entirely.
Your boots clacked in a rhythmic pace down the linoleum tiles that lined the halls. It was fairly empty as most were still unwinding from a day’s work in the mess hall or elsewhere. The emptiness causing your mind to drift, feet left on autopilot as you head to your room.
What the fuck is going on with you? One minute you’re ready to chew someone’s head off, the next you’re rolling over and exposing your belly. You’re out here acting like some type of kicked dog. It’s pathetic, really. You were once a Lieutenant. There’s no excuse for you to not be able to be in control of your emotions.
How far have you fallen?
You chastise yourself. Beat yourself up over your lack of control. How that feeling of loneliness continued to nibble away at you. Like you craved something akin to what you had just witnessed in the canteen. Once again, you’re forced to remind yourself that this is just a job, not something entirely permanent. That you’ll be gone before you know it and anything you fostered here would too.
And yet…
A door swung shut behind you, snapping you back into the present moment. Your focus returns as your eyes survey the cramped quarters, finally able to have a proper look around now.
It was spartan, as usual for anything even remotely military. A desk with a lamp, wardrobe, and a bed. Your duffel bag was still on said bed, causing the thin pad that qualified as a mattress to dip slightly. Right where you left it.
A heavy sigh leaves your chest, yet the weight behind it stayed there. A sense of melancholy had followed you from the deeper recesses of your brain, draping over you in a less-than-comforting shroud. It felt like having a tense conversation that was left unfinished, dreading when you’d be forced to continue it later. The drab room seemingly echoing the numbing emptiness you were feeling.
In effort to push away your conflicting and confusing thoughts, you head over to your duffle bag. The zipper moving with a familiar ease. Something constant to fight against the unpredictability of your emotional state. Your clothes, personal belongings, and such were still carefully packed inside. In an act you’ve done dozens of times, you methodically unpack— having it down to a science by now. Laying a silent claim to this dorm as your temporary place of residence.
Filing the last of your thermal undershirts in the provided wardrobe, the time difference was finally hitting you. That call to sleep getting too strong to fully ignore. You look out the singular window in your room. It was nothing but a small rectangular piece of glass that sat imbedded near the top of the wall. Clearly put there to only provide some natural light, if any. Not like there was much of a view with the blinding snow that lays just outside. The sun was now gone, meaning the cold night was fully here.
A few extra hours of sleep wouldn’t hurt…
You strip off your clothes and swap them out for some warm flannel pants and a long sleeve shirt before crawling into bed. The heavy wool blanket was at least partially comfortable. Not too scratchy but still not a soft as you’d prefer. At least it would keep you warm, and with the evidence of the shitty insulation you were sure you were in for a chilly night. Releasing a quiet groan, you stretch your muscles before curling up on your side. Slowly closing your eyelids. Mind drifting off toward that siren call of momentary peace, narrowly avoiding the raging thoughts from earlier. Allowing you to briefly be free from the clashing thoughts that lurked in your mind.
Then just as the wool blanket, sleep wrapped you in its soothing embrace.
ּ࣪ ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ּ࣪ ᯽ ּ࣪ ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ ּ࣪
You’re in a room. Once familiar, but now completely foreign. You glance around, taking quick notes of your surroundings. The only exit seemingly behind you as a closet door was haphazardly left open to your right, children’s clothes and toy flowing out of it. A thin mattress laid on the floor ahead of you, adorned with disheveled brightly colored blankets and stuffed animals. Lacking any sheets underneath. It was pushed to the farthest corner of the room. Across it to the left was a crib. An abandoned blanket and pacifier laid inside. A pain squeezes your heart inside your chest.
It’s your childhood bedroom.
The one you shared with your younger brother growing up. Stale scent of cigarettes hangs in the air adding to the heavy weight of quiet dread that threatens to press down on your shoulders. You could feel the palms of your hands getting clammy. Ears starting to fill with the dull roar of your blood pumping. Instinctual fear slowly creeping up your spine. It’s tendrils inching up and curling around each individual vertebrae, like icy fingers walking up the middle of your back.
Then a sniffle was heard right beside you. Quickly, you turn your head to look at the source. Your throat tightens at the sight.
It’s you.
Well, your younger self. One still left intact, untouched by the cursed events of your life that have yet to happen. She’s crying, wearing the pjs you faintly remember from childhood. Small hands consistently wiping at the salty tears and snot that couldn’t seem to stop flowing from her person. Her wide eyes are looking to the door in front of her, her shoulders shaking as she tries to stifle her sobs.
The sight draws out the protective side of you. A soldier ready to act and protect those who can’t protect themselves. The guard dog you’ve become. One bitter with anger at the negligence she was suffering. That you had suffered through.
“Hey, shhh…” You whisper gently, moving to crouch down in front of her.
Slowly, you lift your hands to place them on her shoulders. Giving her ample time to deny your touch, but when she didn’t you gently rub your calloused hands up and down her small arms.
“It’s okay. You’re safe in here.”
You gently pull your younger self in, wrapping your arms around her in a tight embrace— using your body acting as her shield. Something you knew you longed for. A hand cradled the back of her head, while the other soothingly rubbed up and down her back.
Before you could offer more get to words, that’s when you hear the muffled yelling. A slamming of a door. Multiple feet stomping against the thin floor of the trailer. Feeling each step shake the floor underneath your knees. Colorful profanities painting the air.
You can feel her trembling in your embrace.
“Shh, it’s okay. They won’t get you in here.” You whispered, pulling back to look at her. Her eyes are trained on the door, almost too scared to look away. As if the moment she did, that’s when the monstrous entities outside the door would strike. You look to the empty crib behind her, then back to her. A sharp sting hitting your chest once more.
“Hey, where’s Jason? Is he out there?” You asked, gently probing but not wanting to add to her distress.
She nods.
“Okay,” you give a weak smile, “I’ll go get him. You just stay here and curl up under the blankets, okay? I promise I’ll be right back.”
With a tender touch, you cup her cheek. Your thumb moving to wipe away a stray tear. A small nod and you’re up, turning to face the door.
The yelling is getting louder the closer you get to it. Just as your hand touches the cool metal of the doorknob, a slap could be heard. Promptly followed by the deep rumble of a strange male’s voice. You can pick out your mother’s own rebuttal. A shrill drunken shriek compared to low slurred timbre of the male’s voice. A baby cries.
Jason.
The bitter anger swells up inside your chest. Determination carves itself into your face. You glare at the door and what waits on the other side. Gritting your teeth, you fling the flimsy piece of wood open and charge.
Some force shoves you back, just as roughly as you had charged. Causing you to fall backwards. You land on your ass with a grunt. All you can see is white, briefly blinding you. Your eyes blink rapidly to try and adjust to the sudden change. The dim lighting of the trailer had been switched to that of midday. You hear traffic before you see it and feel the motion of movement without physically moving. Your vision slowly creeps into focus. Hands frantically reaching out and grasping for what’s underneath you. The touch of cracking leather greets your fingertips. It takes a minute for you to register where you are.
A car. You’re in a car now? Shoved into the backseat with someone in the driver’s seat. The environment outside the speeding car is just a blur. You were moving fast. Just as you were about to yell at the driver to slow the fuck down, you see him.
“Jason?” You call out his name, looking to meet his in the rear view mirror.
Only he’s not quite right. His face is slightly blurred and proportions just a bit off. Is the nose a bit too big? Or are the eyes just a touch too far apart? You couldn’t tell. He just looked… off. It’s almost like your brain can’t fully recollect what he looks like.
Have you already forgotten what your own brother looks like?
The man who resembles your deceased brother smiles back at you through the mirror. You watch his lips speak your name, but the voice is muffled. Unclear and distorted. Before you can say anything else to him, your eyes snap to the traffic in front of you. A stop light lies up ahead, and the car is approaching it quickly.
“Jason, slow down! You’re not gonna make it.” You try to warn him, already knowing what’s about to happen.
He doesn’t.
“Jason!” You yell, trying to snap his attention back to driving. His eyes just continue to stare at you through the mirror, not paying attention to the now red light.
“JASON!” You scream once more, this time at the top of your lungs. Only now it feels like you’re screaming under water. Distorted, suppressed. Muted.
The car enters the intersection.
You lunged forward to try and grab the wheel. Your hand can barely grasp the worn leather of the steering wheel when movement just outside the driver’s side window catches your attention.
“Jason—!” Is all your muted voice can yell before your whole body is rocked to the side. Forcing your side to slam against the passenger seat. The sound of glass breaking and tires screeching pierces your ears. It’s all you can hear as everything turns black.
#simon ghost riley#call of duty modern warfare 2#ghost x reader#ghostie boi#sr#ao3 fanfic#call of duty#don’t feed a stray if you don’t intend to keep it#fanfic#ghost cod#cod x reader#cod mwii#cod mw2#cod oc#cod fanfic#cod fic#ghost fanfiction#simon ghost x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon riley#simon riley fanfic
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Scott pilgrim fan fiction is honest to god PEAK
here’s a link to the fanfic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54497305/chapters/140805103#workskin
#scott pilgram takes off#scott pilgrim x wallace wells#scott x wallace#scott pilgrim#ramona flowers#sp fanfic#sp fanfiction#scott pilgram vs the world#scott pilgrim fanfiction#fanfic quotes#ao3 fanfic#ao3#fanfic#archive of our own#fanfiction#gay#scollace#ghostie reblogs
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👻👻
bodyguard au baby please i’ve been thinking about that masterpiece for a year. maybe some smutty smut and angsty action🫶🏼
“Fuck–JJ!”
“Shh, you can take it.”
“I-I can’t—”
“Yes, you can, baby,” his voice cooed softly, something almost condescending about the way he spoke as he cupped her cheek. His thumb smoothed over the apple of her cheek, wiping away the tears that slipped out as fast as they fell.
Her lips parted in a slight scream, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room but it sounded fucking deafening. She could feel him everywhere, fucking everywhere. She could feel him inside her and around her and above her and beneath her. She felt so much of him and yet, deep down, it still wasn’t enough.
“That’s it,” JJ groaned softly, his hips snapping against hers as he ducked his head down, as he watched himself disappear inside her over and over again. He could feel his orgasm fast approaching, could feel the overwhelming pleasure and desperate need to come quickly incline as her walls clenched around him. “That’s my girl.”
“Jay,” she choked out a sob, her nails scratching down his back and digging into his skin—and he could only fucking hope they left marks, that he would have some proof this is real.
“I’m here, baby, I’ve got you,” he gritted out through clenched teeth. One hand planted beside her head on the pillow, keeping most of his weight off her whilst the other ran over her body, along her thighs and side and all the way up to her chest where he could feel her heart thumping against her ribs.
“Please,” she mumbled over and over again as she felt herself nearing the edge, as she felt herself about to tip over for god-knows after how many times already tonight.
And JJ didn’t deny her.
He kept fucking her as she neared her orgasm. He kept fucking her as she cried out his name and clenched around him. He kept fucking her as he quickly followed, emptying himself inside her and only stopping when his fucking arms buckled against keeping himself up.
But he didn’t stop touching her. He couldn’t stop touching her because he needed to know that she was okay, he needed to know that she was here with him right now and this wasn’t some twisted hallucination.
“I almost lost you,” he whispered out in a shaky voice, still buried deep inside her as he nuzzled his face against the crook of her neck so he could feel her pulse thumping beneath her skin. “I almost fucking lost you, Kiara.”
“I know,” she whispered, her voice just as unsteady as his as she wrapped her legs and arms around him, pulling him as close as physically possible. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t do that again,” he said to her, his voice angry even if his whole body was slumped with relief that she was still here with him. “Don’t ever fucking do that again, you hear me?”
“Okay.”
“I need you to promise me, princess,” he said and he almost hated how desperate he sounded. Almost. “I need you to promise me.”
“I promise, Jay,” her breath fanned over his heated skin as she pressed a kiss to the spot just below his ear. “I won’t ever do that again.”
“Good,” JJ murmured as he tried to swallow back the fear that still hadn’t quite disappeared despite the hours he had her beneath him, had her shaking and squirming and crying his name just to prove she was here and safe. “Because if you ever do that again, princess, if you ever fucking risk your life for mine again, I will fucking lose my mind.”
#ghostie's 1k celebration#jiara#outer banks#obx#jj maybank#kiara carrera#jiara fic#jiara fanfic#jiara fanfiction#jiara smut#outer banks fic#outer banks fanfic#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks smut#obx fic#obx fanfic#obx fanfiction#obx smut#jj maybank smut#kiara carrera smut#bodyguard!jj#bodyguard au
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at this rate, by the time caiti comes back to do her stream, ppl gonna be asking her to check her friends' notes to be sure she has the up to date lore for herself before she gets lost in the retcons
I genuinely did not think this story could get any more confusing. and yet.
#does ghosties even know what planet we're on i mean everything she said directly contradicted everyone else's recounting#is she writing a fanfiction what is going on
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The Night Shift: Chapter Four
If you'd like to be tagged when new chapters are posted let me know! -Ghostiewvlf ✦ The Night Shift Masterpost ✦
➢ Tag List: @valleys
➢Author: Ghostiewvlf & JTheGhost ➢ Rating: Mature ➢ Pairings: Corpse X reader | Corpse X y/n ➢ Themes: Slow Burn | Coworkers To Lovers | Angst | Holiday | Mutual Pining | Fluff | Smut? | Hurt/Comfort | Soulmates | Fake Relationships | Miscommunication | Forced Proximity | Found Family | ➢ Warnings: Crude Humor | Suicidal Jokes/Ideation | Drinking | Smoking |
➢Summary:
You work the night shift at a local dog kennel for boarding and daycare. You love the peace and quiet of the shift, but just when you get comfortable- a few break-ins happen around town, and upper management decides to place your quiet, brooding, shift lead on the schedule with you.
☽✧ Chapter Four: Fun & Games ✧☾
-Y/N POV-
After spending all day in labs and lectures you really were not on your A game for tonight's shift. You felt completely fried- mentally and physically. Walking across campus to and from your science and math courses and arriving on time when you had barely a five minute window between them had been exhausting, and the content in the classes left you wondering if you even had brain cells left.
If you had any energy left you would try to remember to not set your schedule this way for your last semester- though the way your feet dragged as you entered the building and clocked in had you realizing it was no use.
“Damn- long day?��� Liz chuckled from behind the reception counter.
“So long…” Your voice sounded defeated as it left your mouth.
“Well, good news- most everyone was picked up from boarding today- we did have one drop off though…” Her voice wavered in uncertainty as you joined her behind the counter.
“Oh yeah? Who got dropped o-”
“Just the coolest little dude ever…”
You turned to the comically deep voiced interrupter and watched as Logan walked in from the adjoining break room with a small black Shetland puppy cradled in his arms.
“Oh my god!” You swooned over the dog and cautiously approached to pet him, earning a laugh from both Liz and your boss as the puppy struggled out of Logan’s hold and into yours.
“Suppose that will make your night a bit better huh?” Liz laughed out as she gathered her things to leave. “Also… Ryder wasn't picked up from daycare today. I emailed his owners and they requested to leave him here tonight, they're aware of the charges but still need to be billed, I left it open on the computer for you guys.”
“Is this the universe apologizing for my long day?” You laughed as the puppy licked incessantly at your face.
“Guess so…” Liz smiled and shrugged as she headed out, wishing you an easy night.
“So, if you had a rough day- I’m guessing you’ll want to finish up that invoice, since you’ve got some furry company…” Logan chuckled. “I suppose I can lend you my son and get started on dinners.” He rolled his eyes playfully.
“Oh so he’s your son now? Have you let his owners know- should I send them a quick update email while I’m at it?”
“Fuck off…” His laugh was much more sincere than you expected as he waved off your comment on his way to the back. You smiled to yourself and got settled at the computer to invoice Ryder’s owners and collect payment, keeping the small puppy in your lap as he absently chewed your hoodie strings.
---
“Do you drink coffee or tea?” He broke the silence between you as the dogs started to settle down from playing outside.
“Um, tea usually…” you laughed softly and gave him a questioning glance, “why do you ask?”
“I don’t know- thought I’d ask in case I stop and get us drinks again.” He shrugged as he grinned down at the puppy jumping at his ankles. He groaned dramatically as he sat on a rock and placed the small dog in his lap- chuckling as it immediately gnawed at his fingers. “Plus I don’t know much about you- and if we’re gonna work most nights together I should probably learn the basics.”
“Fair point.” You smiled and sat beside an exhausted looking Ryder a few feet from him. “That coffee was really good, especially for how cold it was.” You chuckled. “I usually get iced chais, so that wouldn't have been as ideal. What about you?”
“Well, glad I made that call then. Cause I get the same…” He chuckled. “I mean- usually I turn to- stronger drinks- but chai will suffice at work.”
“Yeah, we wouldn’t want any red wine stains on our clothes at work…” You teased as you pet the panting dog beside you.
“Of course not… totally unprofessional.” He laughed along and rolled his eyes.
“Well, if we're getting to know each other- umm…” you paused as you thought of good questions (that were at least somewhat professionally appropriate) to ask of your boss. “What made you get into animal care?”
“Hmm, well I’ve always wanted my own animal- but I’m not sure that my lifestyle or whatever would allow me to properly take care of one, or that I could handle it I guess… I started out just watching my friends' dogs or cats. Then I saw an opening here and figured it would be a nice place to work.” He shrugged and smiled before meeting your gaze. “What about you? I know you worked on the vet side for a while- and you were at an ER before this right?”
“That's… super cute? Sorry just- picturing you- deep voice and intimidating nature… as a pet sitter, it's strange to think about.” You laughed at the thought.
“I know… I don’t really look- or sound- the type huh?” He chuckled in agreement and you shook your head and smiled.
“But um- yeah I did. ER was really cool, I got to see a lot of interesting cases there… and working on the vet side here was nice since I still needed more experience for vet school, but both those jobs were really demanding, and I needed to cut back so I could focus more on finishing school- so this seemed perfect for me right now.”
“I'm glad…” he smiled sweetly, “-you’re smart and deserve to take the time you need to get your school stuff sorted. Especially if you have such a good plan.”
“I wouldn’t say it’s a good plan- I mean, who knows what I’ll really end up doing.” You scoffed softly. “I never really wanted to go to college or anything but my family pressured me into it, saying I could never make it as anything without it.”
“Well that's just- not true…” He scoffed loudly.
“No?”
“Definitely not. I mean, I basically raised myself- I was never close with my family- so I don’t really understand that perspective, but school never worked for me. I ended up dropping out pretty early…” he shrugged and turned his attention back to the puppy, now falling asleep in his lap. “I mean, it’s difficult dropping out so young and being like ‘I'm gonna make something of myself someday, I’m gonna do something big-’ but it’s definitely doable.With or without schooling.” His voice softened slightly as he spoke. You couldn’t help but stare at him, almost in awe, at how much he revealed.
“I’m sorry Logan. That sounds… awful- I’m sorry you went though that…” you paused, “-but thank you. I suppose you’re right, it is difficult for sure… making a name for yourself, or figuring out what to do in life. ” You weren't really sure how to respond to such a candid response.
“Eh, that's how life goes right?” He chuckled awkwardly, carefully picking up the sleeping puppy as he rose to his feet. “Spose we should let these guys back in, everyone seems tuckered out.”
“Yeah, suppose we should.” You carefully stood as well, hoping to not rile up the dogs again as you all made your way in for the night.
-Logan’s POV-
He stayed quiet as the two of you cleaned around the building, silently admonishing himself for his loose lips earlier. He had no idea why he’d shared so much, why talking with you made it so easy to share what seemed like all the most negative things about him. Maybe he was compensating- getting it all out in the open about how he was toxic to befriend so you’d turn tail sooner rather than later.
He couldn’t help the nagging feeling of relief though, having told you a bit about himself and getting such a kind response. You probably just felt awkward, or pitied him, after all. He shouldn’t make it a regular thing.
Eventually when you both had finished cleaning, you settled in at the front desk again. He was grateful when you pulled out your notebook and binder from your bag, knowing you would need quiet to do your homework and he couldn’t run his mouth any longer. He did find it a bit funny when you asked if he minded, of course he didn’t care if you got some homework done, especially with the awkward tension in the air now. He put on some soft lofi for you and scrolled on his phone as you worked. Every few minutes or so he’d sneak a glance at your papers, instantly regretting it as he was greeted with complex molecules, chemistry equations, and the pervasive fact that you were far more intelligent than he ever considered himself.
You huffed loudly, breaking the silence as you pushed your papers away and leaned back in the chair. He turned to give you a questioning glance.
“If you’re stuck on something- I hope you aren't going to ask me for help.” He chuckled. “Because if I lock eyes with your papers again my brain will melt.”
“No, no…” He bit down on the inside of his cheek as you laughed. “I’m finished. It’s not all correct, but I’m done.”
“Ah, well good… its aura is haunting the entire room.” He chuckled, cringing away as you put everything back in your bag.
“Yeah, believe me I know.” You pursed your lips and leaned back again. “You can put on regular music again if you want… Unless you brought your laptop?”
“Fuck, you remembered that I said that?” He groaned and hid his face in his hands.
“Sure do, so when you bringin it?”
“Hmmm…” he paused, humming suspiciously. “I don’t know I feel like- if I had some dirt on you, I might be more motivated to remember to bring it…” He insinuated with poorly feigned innocence.
“Wow, blackmail- that's bold.” You giggled, he merely winked in response, a sly grin across his lips. “I guess I’ll have to think of some dirt on me then…”
The rest of the night was fairly calm. He pulled up some games on the computer for you two to pass the time, and he continued to joke with you throughout the night until it was time to clock out.
“See you Thursday I guess…” He dramatically huffed as he walked with you to your cars.
“Are you pouting about the shifts you work alone now?” You laughed as you tossed your things into your car, he smiled and rolled his eyes.
“Hey, my two to three shifts I have alone are boring now…”
“Right, because you’re such a conversationalist…”
“Fuck off…” he chuckled before pausing as he did the same, “drive safe, text me when you get home…”
He again waited until you were safely out onto the road before pulling out and heading home himself. He took a longer route home this time, opting to stop and pick up some groceries on his way- not because it would keep his mind off you or from overthinking everything he said, it was only because his fridge and pantry were barren.
After arriving home and putting everything away, he couldn’t help but feel anxious as he saw you still hadn’t messaged him. He groaned and took a swig from a new bottle of wine he’d gotten and began typing.
Logan 🐺:
Did you make it home ok?
You:
Right, sorry… forgot lol yes I did
He chuckled and rolled his eyes.
You:
Were you worried? lol
Logan 🐺:
Well yeah you didn’t text me 😤
Sorry I care if my friends get home safe… sheesh
You:
Oh so were friends now? Lmao
He laughed as he sent back a barrage of offended gifs and memes. He couldn’t really remember the last time he’d been so eager to continue a conversation.
You:
Don't be butthurt haha, I just only ever see you at work is all
Logan 🐺:
Well you're so busy with school- otherwise we could hangout
You:
Hey don't blame me- you make my work schedule, you know what days I’m off 🤷♀️
Logan 🐺:
Fine… fair point…
Sunday?
You:
I’ll think about it…
He rolled his eyes and sent a few gifs of graves before tossing his phone aside and attempting to wipe the ridiculous smile off his face. He knew this was likely a mistake, but he didn’t really care right now, maybe it was time to make a new friend.
➢ Links:
✦ Fics Masterlist ✦ The Night Shift Masterpost ✦ ✦ AO3 ✦ Wattpad ✦ Art ✦ ✦ Requests Masterpost & Guidelines ✦ Request Trope List ✦ 。:゜:.*∵✧∵ ☽ Submit A Request ☾∵✧∵*:.゜: 。
#The Night Shift#TNS#corpse husband#corpse husband fanfiction#corpse husband x reader#corpse x reader#corpse husband x y/n#corpse x y/n#romance#slow burn#coworkers to lovers#fanfiction#fanfic#mutual pining#fluff#angst#Ghostie Howls#J Writes
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All the couples I got together in my first run of “Love, Ghostie”
I love them with all my heart
#love ghostie#they are so cute#it felt like they kept getting better and better#I need to write fanfiction for them now
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Awake - (Hyung Line)
separate members Ateez x (F)Reader
Summary: You went to sleep after a HUGE (not really) fight, only, when you went to sleep you were alone, not in the comforting arms of your lover.
Genre: Hurt + Comfort
Rating: PG-17
Warnings: Language
Word Count: 4.2k
Est.Read Time: 21 min
Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet
Banner: @cafekitsune
Maknae Line: Here
A/N: A special thank you to my one and only @edenesth , for helping me out with this- I swear for the life in me Yeosang still confuses me and Hwa seems to sweet to argue with (yeah i know that aint true) .I'll be updating my requests soon and uploading the next chapter of meow soon, too!
Kim Hongjoong
Waking up next to Hongjoong was as rare as going to bed with him. Considering he'd come to bed at an ungodly hour, unlike you, and leave at an ungodly hour, waking up way before you did- in theory, however, the man barely slept four hours. Then there were times when he'd choose to stay at the studio or the dorm. So often, you'd receive a text about his location and that was it- and for so long it was okay- until it wasn't.
There's no real reason or premise behind how it started, but all she remembers is that he had come home in the middle of the night, and ironically she had been watching a film at the time. Now, the reaction could've been sweet, could've been filled with love, but the words had left her sooner than she could stop them,
"You know, you should really take care of yourself too."
That was all it took for him to stare at her blankly before turning around and slamming the door shut behind him, leaving her wincing in regret on the couch, the same very couch she had cried on, lying across its expanse, trying to get in touch with him through text or call, only for her tears to dry up and eyes to close, falling asleep on the couch.
What you did not expect was to wake up in your bed, on your back blinking up at the ceiling, shades of golden seeping through the cracks of the curtains, illuminating the dancing specs across the room. With a heavy sigh you turned your head to glance at the usual empty side when you were greeted by an unusual sight. The same blonde man you had cried your heart out for last night was laying there, knocked out cold, lips slightly parted, hands folded on his belly as he lay on his back- Hongjoong was one weird dude. With a sigh you turn to lay on your side, staring at him, taking in his tired features, the dark circles under his eyes, his chapped lips, the way his brows were slightly furrowed. God, you definitely loved an idiot.
Taking a few more minutes, you thought to yourself, before letting out a sigh, at least he was home now, at least he was resting. With that in mind, you slowly pushed yourself up, sitting up and rubbing your face, trying to erase the remnant traces of sleep. You were about to slip out of bed when something tugged at your shirt, causing you to turn to lock eyes with your sleepy love, his gaze filled with some form of remorse and guilt.
“Don't…go.” his hoarse voice rasped across the silent room, her shoulder slumped at the fatigue in his tone, before shaking her head and moving closer to him, letting him pull her closer, enough for her to rest her head against his shoulder, a hand placed on his heart, appreciating the steady beat- his own rhythm for her.
“I’m sorry…”
“You should be.” she mumbled, turning to bury her face in the crook of his neck, feeling him draw her closer, the arm around her waist tightening, as if he were afraid that she’d disappear. Not a word was exchanged after that, her lips would often gently graze against his warm skin, curling into a small smile when she’d hear him let out a sigh, her leg now hooked around his, basically tangled around him. He never pushed her away or told her to stop, even when her hand slipped into his shirt, fingers tracing his warm skin, trying to feel him against her, as if she were trying to become one with him. He may not prefer skinship or let anyone else touch him, but she was the exception, she held the key to his heart, to his soul, giving her the free access of a more compliant and vulnerable Hongjoong, who was no longer a captain, but a boy who loved music, and she was but his muse, his inspiration, the rhythm his heart would dance to.
Park Seonghwa
Did she mean to forget it? No. Did she forget it? Yes. Was she sorry about it? Yes. But was she going to accept his berating and taunting? Not at all. She knew he was tired and exhausted, she knew being an idol wasn’t easy, it was a job accompanied with constant stress and fatigue- you knew what you were getting yourself into, but so did he. He knew you were a full eight to six job, a busy job, a hectic job, and that wasn’t accompanied with a driver or a manager or any other kind of comfort, no you had no one to lean on when it came to someone messing up and expecting you to clean up after them.
So, is it your fault that you came home all tired and exhausted to the bone, only to flop down on the couch, next to your boyfriend- who by the way did not even bother greeting you- and expect him to show you some compassion? Apparently, it was. Your head lay on the backrest of the couch, the TV acting like a white noise as your turned your head, eyes drowsy and tired to look at the magnificent being fate had paired you up with, someone so loving and caring, so endearing and tender, so pretty and-
“Did you vacuum today?”
“What?” sitting up properly she looked at the not so loving man, god, how could someone so pretty be so weird sometimes- oh shit. Shaking your head you cleared your throat, “Well umm…I know…I told you I’d do it today since I had to go later to work but I…kinda forgot? Plus you did clean yesterday so the house is pretty clean?” trailing off you averted your gaze, trying not to meet eyes with the man who looked borderline distraught and disappointed.
“Tch…this is why your mom got mad at you last week.” he mumbled and stood up, walking away, perhaps to the kitchen to get the stupid vacuum cleaner- no, he did not just bring that up! You sat there, too stunned to react, what may have seemed like a minute was perhaps more, especially when you felt something nudge at your feet, causing you to look up wide eyed at the source of hurt, staring up at him with blurry eyes.
Crying?
His eyes widened at the realisation, she had not been sitting there all stubborn while he was vacuuming, no, she was sitting there, crying, too shocked to even notice she was crying- the hell did he just do? He felt his fingers twitch, tongue poking out to lick his lower lip, an apology and more at the tip of his tongue, but before he could say anything, you were gone, the bedroom door slamming shut causing him to jerk back into his senses, running after you, trying to open the door, only to find it locked.
“Angel? Open- I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that!” he called out, all anger and dominance, instantly flushed out of his being, wanting nothing more than to cradle her in his embrace, trying to hold onto her crumbling pieces. He mentally cursed himself, knowing damn well how your mother’s visit last week ended poorly, an evening that was going great, until his future mother in law found out that he did most of the cleaning, which led you to receive an earful about the duties of a true, good wife.
You don’t remember much of what happened after, you had showered, cried during the shower, changed into something comfortable and snuggled into bed, ignoring the persistent knocking and apologies that flooded the room. Were you being childish? No. You could’ve talked it out with him, but you really didn’t want to and you really didn’t care enough right now to morph an understanding mood.
What you didn’t understand was why you weren’t able to move- oh. Trying to pry his arms off you, you huffed out frustrated and still upset, only for him to mumble something in your hair, pulling you closer as his grip tightened on you, pushing his leg between yours, tangling you in his long limbs. His hair fell of his face, the tips of his silky locks caressing your forehead, tickling your skin.
“Let go.” you mumbled only to hear him whine, about to ask him to ‘get lost’ until you heard a sniffle, followed by a broken, “I-I’m s-sorry.” Honestly, a part of you didn’t want to give in, but when you heard the way he whined, calling out your name like you were a million miles away, your heart clenched at the tone, hand gently squeezing one of the two that were tightly clamped around you.
“Hwa…” you sighed, leaning back a bit, feeling his lips press against your neck, ghosting up to your ear, whispering unending apologies, before squeezing you closer.
“Its…not fine but…please don’t…say that again.” she sighed, closing her eyes at the feeling of his soothing touches, letting his plump lips press against the shell of her ear before he flipped them over, with him hovering above her, keeping himself steady with his forearms pressing into the pillow on either sides of her head, staring down at her with puffy eyes and a pink nose, “I won’t…I’m sorry.”
You smiled up at him, placing a hand on his cheek, adoring the way he instantly nuzzled against it, before slowly bringing him down to meet your lips.
“Then make up for it.”
Jeong Yunho
Shit. Shit. Shit. SHIT!
Your blood ran cold, staring at what you had just done, oh my god, it was all over now, you were doomed- you had the worst luck known to man! You were also probably the dumbest person to exist- oh my god. The sound of the controller being placed on the table had you freeze up, but it was the loud exhale that had you flinching like a small kitten, ever so slowly turning your head to the source, trailing your eyes off the floor to lock with an unreadable pair.
“Babe.”
“Yes…Yuyu?” meekly responding, your grip tightened on the mop, trying not to run away, knowing that would only upset him even more. Okay, granted, he had told her as soon as he had come home that he was not in a great mood, the new choreography was a bit tricky and everyone was taking a bit longer than usual to pick it up, and that had led the dancer to embrace this sour mood. Even when she was smothering his cheek with kisses, clinging onto him, he had only sighed, turning to meet her lovey-dovey eyes with his tired ones, giving her a small smile before bumping his forehead with hers, “I’m gonna blow off some steam, yeah?” That had meant he’d be gaming the stress away, and she was supposed to act like a good little kitten and not play around. Lord knows why she thought of cleaning in the first place, perhaps because she was bored and needed a distraction- oh god.
He blinked at you, trying to control his expressions, though his hard stare had you shaking in your boots, slowly standing up he walked closer, and you took a step back, enough for your back to press against the wall next to the TV. Yunho had never hurt you, and he probably never was going to, but what he was doing now was uncharacteristic, exactly how angry was he? How upset was he for him to do what he had done? How angry and frustrated was he for him to say those words? For him to pull away with a glint in his eyes, watching you slowly grip your shirts, trying to control the frantic beating of your heart that was pushing the tears that were fighting to stay within your waterline.
He didn't even stop her when she slid down the wall, pulling her knees closer to her chest, his cold, harsh, brazen words slicing deep and bloody. He stared down at you for a moment before slowly moving away, his absence only hit you once you heard the soft click of the main door. It was moments later that you stood up, wiping your eyes you walked back into your shared bedroom, the scene replaying in your mind on loop;
He pressed his forehead against hers, not the way he would do so romantically, no, this was different, he was being mean, he wanted her to feel the anger coursing through his veins. Though his words were what felt like a cold slap,
“Can you do anything right? Or are you built to disappoint?”
Your eyes snapped open at the gentle call of your name, trying to ignore the lingering pounding at the back of your head. Of course, the persistent headaches were about to roll in, especially after that stressful scene followed by an unimaginable amount of crying.
Yunho whispered to you once more, noticing how you had flinched the first time, he knew your migraine would kick in as soon as he had seen your sleeping tear struck face- shit. He really did lose his cool this time, and had blown up on the wrong person. If there's one thing that he had learnt during his time with you, was that his girl was as fiery as a tiger, but her heart was as fragile as a kitten's, and his gold retriever self had managed to mangle it with his bare teeth.
“Love…” he brushed the hair away from your eyes, trying to meet your blank, unfocused gazed, as he cleared his throat, “I umm….I brought…something to eat-”
“Go away.” You whispered, gently pushing his hand away from you and sitting up, holding your head, the pounding getting louder and more difficult to handle, now that you knew he was right next to you. It was bad enough that you even dreamt about him saying that to you, in fact, in your dream he had broken up with you, which is probably why you gave him the stink eye as soon as he woke you up.
“I…I didn't mean to say that to you- tsk- it wasn't even directed towards you.” he sighed, running his fingers through his hair, trying not to rip it out in frustration. He did not mean to take it out on you, at one point he wasn’t even looking at you, he could just see himself and how he was failing - but did that mean he could take it out on you? No, it didn't.
You looked at him sitting there on his knees, he still looked like a giant, but his hurt puppy dog expressions just had you internally berate yourself, any moment longer and you would give in- “Wait…” you turn to look at the alarm clock on your side table and whine in protest, having his full attention on you. “You woke me up! I thought it was already morning- it's only 3 am.” huffing she flopped back down on her pillow, ignoring him by closing her eyes. This was the only way you could ensure you got your message across- granted you were at fault, that didn’t mean he could turn you into his personal punching bag.
Yunho sat there, staring at you, closing your eyes as his own cast down to his clasped hands, feeling even more guilty for waking you up, but the guilt had been eating him up, as soon as he had uttered those words the guilt had begun to bubble, watching you helplessly. That was why he had walked out, he needed to clear his head, he needed to calm down and think, and other than the monologue of an apology he had even gone out of the way to get you a cake- not sure you’d eat it now, considering you were still mad at him.
“Ah-Yunho” she giggled as her eyes snapped open.
You looked down at him and snorted, his head was placed on your tummy, ear pressed against your shirt as he looked at you. “What are you doing?” you asked propping up on your elbows to stare at him, wondering what his mind was up to this time.
“Shhh…I’m listening.”
“To what?”
“Your belly.” he stated simply before sitting up and replacing his head with his palm, “She tells me she’s hungry, and that she’d like this idiot to feed her cake.”
“Did you just call me an idiot?”
Shaking his head he cleared his throat, “N-no, your tummy called me the idiot!” he clarified before turning around and crawling to his side of the bed, picking up a tray and turning around to face her, “So…am I forgiven?” he asked, casually opening the lid of the box, glancing up to see her admire the icing, man, he really struck gold with this one, she was as forgiving as she was cute-
“Depends. If you promise not to have a single bite.”
His eyes widened at your request, trying to see if this was some kind of joke, apparently…it was not. Clearing his throat he placed the tray between them and saluted her with one hand, “Yes Ma’am!” he yelled before taking a spoonful of the cake and pressing it against your lips, “I live to serve and please my lady.” Leave it to Yunho to wake you up at the early hours of the day and feed you cake, a very Yunho way of apologising.
Kang Yeosang
He watched you barge through the front door, looking like a mad woman as you flung your bag somewhere across the apartment, not after kicking off your heels and stumbling into the kitchen, grumbling about how ‘shitty’ your day was and how you hate men, followed by a ‘minus you Sangie, you’re the best.’ His girl really was something else, it truly amazed him how he ever fell inlove with her, especially with her distaste towards most men, hell it took her some time to even warm up to the rest of the guys- except for Mingi, which was super weird because if you ask him, Mingi is the weirdest, but she just said he’s a giant baby who thinks hes cool, like boss baby!
Picking up the remote, he pressed play, leaning back against the couch to continue watching the film. Only a shrill call of his name has him jerking off the sofa and running into the kitchen. Stumbling through the door frame blinks at you, with you standing there with the fridge open, glaring daggers at him, holding onto a container - oh…no.
“Yeosang…” other than your horrifying expression, your overall tone was very calm, which honestly scared him, you were a very expressive person until pushed to a point where you begin to shut out others, and right now, he’d have you yell at him, than completely shut him out. He took a step in your direction, only for you to raise your hand and stop him, motioning towards the empty container, “Did you eat the last slice?” Even though it was a question, it really did sound like a statement, one that was holding back the predestined overflow of emotions, of stress.
With a light sigh, he nodded, clearing his throat as he continued, “I…um…I forgot that you told me to save it for you…I’m sorry, it completely slipped my mind.” His words held a gentle form of sincerity, the tender warmth of love, the calm essence of admiration - and she could not give a flying f*ck about it, especially not right now.
Making sure to maintain eye contact, you placed the empty container - the evidence - back in its place before closing the fridge. Taking a deep breath, you walked away, making sure not to spare him a glance as you walked out of the kitchen, ignoring his calls when you walked into the bedroom. You could hear him run after you, a gentle whine hanging off the tip of his tongue, but he froze when you turned around and looked at him, giving him no expression whatsoever, just, blankly staring at - no, through him. Honestly, it was then when he realised that this was not about the stupid cake, no, this was much more, he had forgotten something that was important to her, something she must have been looking forward to while she was on the bus home, something she must have been craving to eat- selfish, that’s what he was, and he knew deep down how mad she must have been- could he blame her?
He sat on the edge of the bed, ever so quietly, watching you go through your nightly routine. It hurt how easily you could pretend he wasn’t there, but then again, he wasn’t very attentive to your presence within this apartment either. He watched you go into the washroom, peaking through the door left ajar, watching you vigorously rub your face, holding back the urge of telling you to go gentle with the scrub on your skin, but he knew if he did, he’d probably get kicked out of the room- at least you didn’t ask him to leave you. You came back into the room, making sure to glare at him, something he caught onto pretty quickly, averting his gaze to his lap.
After a solid ten minutes of letting you change your clothes he glanced up at you once again, only to find you frowning at him through the mirror as you brushed your hair- at this point he realised you had not shut him out, but had decided to punish him like this. This went on for a while until you finally ripped The comforter from your side, making sure to land on the with an angry bounce, enough for him to jerk, turning to your direction for you to glare at him one more time and turn around as you flopped down on your side with an audible “HMPH”.
He didn't know if he should fine this cute, or be upset, a good part of him wanted to tease you, his inner menace begging to come up to the surface, but his more mature side or being kept reminding him that she was only doing this to avoid blowing up at him- which only added to his guilt, you really were a blessing.
You sat up to the sound of something shattering, heart racing a thousand miles as you turned to look at the place on the bed that was usually occupied by Yeosang, only to gasp when he wasn't there. Slipping out of bed, you slowly crept towards the door, grabbing your handy bat in the process as you tip toed out of the room, towards the kitchen. It was early morning, other than the noise from the kitchen, you could hear the early chirping of the bids- Yeosang had an early schedule today, so he was already out of the house- did that mean he forgot to lock the door? Shit, did someone come in because the door was unlocked, or did someone break in because they saw your boyfriend leaving.
With a bat in hand, you ran into the kitchen, ready to swing at the intruder, only you stopped mid swing when you met a familiar pair of eyes.
“YAH! KANG YEOSANG!”
His eyes widened at the sight of the bat, body frozen, crouched on the ground, waiting for the impact, only for him to jerk into action and fall back on his butt, staring up at her, whispering, “I almost…died.”
With a huff, you placed the back on the counter, pushing your hair back and walking over to your idiotic lover. Glancing at the pieces of shattered glass on the floor, oh, so that's what happened, huh? Giving him a hand, you looked at his face, raising a brow, watching him mumble something before giving your hand a squeeze.
“What?” you asked, leaning closer to hear him better, only he mistook it for you wanting affection, or perhaps he was the one who needed physical consolation. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush into his chest, making sure to squeeze you close. With a sigh you leaned your forehead against his shoulder, a good night's rest clearing your mind of any and all negative thoughts, in fact, now you were just exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to be pampered by your forgetful lover.
“What were you doing here?” You asked, looping you around from under his, placing your palms flat against his shoulder blades, feeling the slightest shift, pressing him closer to you - almost squeezing him like a plushie.
“Was…trynna bake you a cake.” He mumbled, burying his face in your hair, “But I messed up….I'm sorry…I ate your slice.”
With a sigh, you pulled your face back, giving him a small smile, “It's…alright Sangie…I'm sorry I got so upset last night…I just really really really don't like men.”
He pouted at your statement and nodded before leaning closer and pressing his forehead against yours, whispering, “Am I included in that statement?”
A giggled broke past your lips as you glanced up at him through your lashes, “Of course not…you're a fairy prince…not a stupid man…now come on,” with that you pulled away, gently lacing your fingers with his, “Let’s bake a cake together.” He could only smile at this, blushing at your compliment, any other day he'd argue about how he was a manly man, but today, he just wanted to shower her with all his love and tenderness, so he'd take it, and he'd be your fairy Prince for as long as you need him to be.
.
Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @mlysalt @the-kpop-simp @spooo00oky @bunnyluvr25 @s-h-y-a @ateezswonderland
#cromernet#k labels#illusionnet#ghostie#fluff#ateez x you#ateez x y/n#ateez angst#ateez x female reader#ateez scenario#hongjoong#seonghwa#yunho#yeosang#hongjoong x y/n#seonghwa x you#seonghwa x reader#yunho x you#yunho x reader#yeosang x reader#atz scenarios#atz imagines#atz x reader#atz#ateez fluff#ateez x reader#seonghwa drabble#ateez#ateez fanfiction#ateez scenarios
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Don’t Let Yourself Fade Away (Spencer Reid x GN!Reader)
A/N: Hello there! This one’s a little sad, but it was healing to write. Seeing Spence get shut down sometimes when he gets so animated and excited about the most random topics breaks my neurodivergent heart, so here’s to not only him, but anyone else who feels shut out when they talk about their true passions in life <3 - Mod Ghost
p.s. thank you to everyone 🥺❤️
“The average lifespan of a human is about 73.5 years, and your ears never truly stop growing in that time so if you think about it…” Spence trailed off, just as he was about to finish his sentence.
“...What were you about to say, sweetheart?” I ask, having been quiet up until now as I listened to him speak. I could tell just by looking at him that he’d gone somewhere deep in that big head of his, and I have no idea what caused it. He suddenly had this glazed over look to his eye and it hurt my heart to look at it. Whatever it was, I wanted to gently pull him back to me.
“Hmm? Oh, nothing, it’s uh, not important. Are you hungry?” He asked as he started to stand off the couch in his apartment where we were both sitting, but stopped when I grabbed his wrist so he could look back at me with those big eyes that looked like they belonged on a puppy and not my boyfriend.
“It’s not nothing, Spence, why’d you stop talking?” I gently tugged on his arm, trying to get him to sit back down with me.
Spencer looked confused, as if it somehow made less sense for me to ask why he stopped talking than for him to go quiet mid thought. He stood there silently for a moment before sitting back next to me, sheepishly piping up again, “I’ve calculated the amount of time it takes for others to either become disinterested in what I have to say and stop listening or cut me off completely, which is about anywhere from 25 seconds to a minute, so I decided that instead of letting that happen, I would cut myself off at a somewhat natural point in that time frame so that I wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore…Neither would anyone else, so there’s statistically at least one ‘plus side’ to it..” He looked away from me halfway through the sentence, like he was suddenly scared of making eye contact with me.
The more he spoke, I felt an ache growing in my chest until the entirety of my core was filled with a raw and harrowing anguish. Who on Earth could look at him and ever tell him that he wasn’t interesting or that they didn’t want to hear what he had to say? I always look forward to talking to him, no matter what he says. The sound of his voice is so comforting to me and one of my worst fears is never hearing it again.
“Oh, Spencer…I…I don’t even know what to say…who made you think like that?” I brush his hair back behind his ear as I speak, moving closer to him so our knees are brushing together.
“Well, at work, sometimes…sometimes, I can get a bit too carried away and I end up just rambling while everyone’s trying to catch the unsub…but even on the jet, if I get too caught up in a topic, I end up blabbering and then whoever I’m talking to loudly says ‘WOW, that’s interesting!’ and walks away, or it’s ‘I’m so glad I asked!’ before the same outcome occurs. Or the worst one is when they just walk away without saying anything,” he momentarily stops, staring off into space as if recalling a memory. “That one hurts the most.”
My brow furrows and I feel tears leak from my own eyes as I see some streaking their way down his face, pulling him toward me until he starts to fold himself into my arms and lets me rub his back gently.
“I don’t care who says or does those things to you…no matter what, I’m always going to want to listen to you speak. I’ll hang on to every one of your words as I wait for the next, because everything you say is always so interesting to me. I love watching your eyes crinkle up when you smile, and hearing how fast you talk when you get really excited. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get enough of your voice, so don’t let yourself fade away because some of the people in your life don’t appreciate you the same way that I do.” I whisper close to his ear, brushing his hair away from his face with my hand that wasn’t rubbing his back.
He woefully nodded, sniffling pitifully and slowly breaking down as I held him. It was as if something deep inside of his soul broke loose, and he was finally setting it free. He was letting himself feel it, and hopefully start to heal from it at the very least. I’ve been in a similar position to him before, and I would never want to make him feel that way if I could help it. Spence continued to cry for a while longer, and I held him until he sat up enough to look at me.
“Did you really mean what you said…? About my voice and my smile…?” His voice cracked as he spoke, and I smiled reassuringly as I leaned forward to press a kiss to his temple.
“Every last word,” I murmured close to his ear, running my hand through his hair again as he closed his eyes.
He sat still and quietly for a moment, as if he were soaking in everything that we’d said. The only noise in the room was the sound of our breathing until he broke the silence with a soft mutter of “thank you.”
“What are you thanking me for? Telling the truth?”
Spence only laughed, rolling his eyes at me as if I was telling a joke.
It was nice to see him smile, though, so I let it go.
“Now, about that food…” he changed the subject, and for whatever reason, I let him. I think I just wanted to let him be himself, even if it was just for a little while.
“You asked if I was hungry because you were hungry??” I asked with a dramatic gasp, standing up and pulling him to stand with me. “I never knew you were the type of man to have ulterior motives.” I teased, walking with him to the kitchen.
“I don’t think that’s usually used in the context of food, my love.” he let out a giggle, a goofy smile spreading across his face as we looked through his fridge together.
Just hearing him laugh was like music to my ears, and I would give anything in the world to keep hearing it for every day of my life.
#criminal minds#fanfiction#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x gn!reader#comforting the boy#criminal minds fanfiction#mod ghost#ghosty
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The Seer: Part 2
Part 1
Art by @creative-lampd-liberties
AO3
12: The Killers
It was as the group was setting up to sleep that Janus froze. He was in the woods, watching himself and the others get ready to bed down for the night. He felt a bow in his hands.
He snapped back to reality, then shushed everyone quickly. All chatter stopped. Janus looked at Roman and nodded towards the spot where he was sure he had just been, that someone was watching them from.
Virgil heard something from the opposite direction. “There’s more,” he hissed.
Then they all heard a twig snap in another direction. Virgil put up a barrier around them just as an arrow flew out of the woods. It bounced off the barrier and hit the ground.
Thomas narrowed his eyes, peering at the woods around the clearing for hiding spots that may be in use. He didn’t need to, though, because people began emerging from the woods all around them.
There were about fifteen of them in total. Some carried bows, some wicked-looking knives, and some swords. There was a crossbow and a whip somewhere in that mix, too.
A man stepped forward. He wielded a staff from which Janus could feel power emanating. He raised the staff and fired off a blast toward the shimmering purple barrier.
When it hit, Virgil grunted and grit his teeth.
Patton and Logan both looked at him in concern.
Thomas gripped the hilt of his sword, while Remy reached for his dagger.
Roman unsheathed his shortsword quickly and instinctively moved toward the man with the staff, while Remus eyed another man, shorter than the others and smug-looking. He held no weapon, and instead his arms were crossed over his chest as he leaned against a tree. There were several weapons hanging from his belt, though.
A moment of stillness passed before the man with the staff blasted more power at Virgil’s barrier, a sustained arc of blue lightning. Virgil gasped and staggered, and Logan rushed to support him, holding on to him tightly. After wavering for a moment, Virgil’s barrier glowed brighter. Then the staff-wielder increased the power of his attack, and the barrier sputtered out.
It took less than a second for the clearing to erupt into chaos, weapons being drawn and fights being initiated. Blades clashed, and arrows flew.
Roman cried out, and Janus turned to see him clutching his shoulder, then found himself pinned to the ground with a knife to his throat. He glared at the woman leaning over him, and she sneered back.
The next thing Janus knew, the bandit was gone, and he looked over to see Roman wrestling her on the forest floor. The bandit that had injured Roman’s shoulder was coming for them quickly, so Janus stuck his foot out to trip them. They fell hard and hit their head on a rock. Janus’s attention returned to Roman and the other bandit just in time to see Roman punching her in the face over and over. Roman’s sword and the bandit’s knife were on the ground nearby.
Janus sat up, grabbed his cane, and snatched the knife before scrambling to his feet. He looked around. Thomas was holding his own, as were Remus, Remy, and Logan. Virgil was practically pinned between Remy and Logan, though he had a hand on the hilt of his rapier and was firing off spells. Logan appeared to be chastising him. Then Janus spotted Patton.
Patton was fighting his hardest with the large knife that Remus and Roman had made sure he had, but he was being forced further and further back toward the treeline by three bandits. Janus loped toward them, too filled with adrenaline to let his limp slow him down more than a little. He stumbled, but righted himself quickly and stayed up.
He jammed the knife into one bandit’s back and pulled it out quickly.
The bandit fell.
Patton and Janus met eyes over the bandit’s body.
Something sharp was suddenly at Janus’s collarbone, which had been uncovered in the fight by his clothes becoming ruffled. A body pressed against his back. “I ought to kill you for that,” a rough but high voice said. Janus inhaled shallowly and let it out slowly.
Patton took an instinctive step forward, but stopped when the sword against Janus’s chest pressed harder and Janus winced. A drop of blood ran down the inch between the sword and the collar of Janus’s shirt, staining the fabric there a darker black. Janus stared at Patton with wide eyes.
The person moved away and removed the sword before kicking Janus in the back of his bad leg, causing him to fall to the ground. “Stay down,” the rough voice said.
The two remaining bandits near them cornered Patton and forced him to his knees next to where Janus was on his hands and knees. Janus stared at the ground underneath him, breathing heavily.
When he heard Thomas yell angrily, Janus finally looked up, only to be kicked in the side by one of the two bandits. He looked up from where he now lay on his side, and found that the others had been cornered and disarmed, weapons on all sides of them. The staff-wielder held Virgil tightly, and the man with many, many weapons hanging from his belt stood looking at him.
“How fortunate,” said the rough voice. “We’ve hit it rich, friends! Do you know who this is?”
There was silence.
The man reached out. “Hello, little prince. What are you doing all the way out here?” He touched Virgil’s cheek. Virgil spat at him.
The man wiped the spit from his cheek, unnervingly calm, then struck Virgil across the face, fast as lightning. Virgil’s head snapped to the side, and he breathed heavily. He spat blood onto the ground.
“Leave him alone!” Logan cried.
The man sneered at him. “How cute,” he said dryly. “Someone has a little schoolboy crush. Oh, well. Everyone except our prize here will have to die anyway.”
“Don’t,” Virgil said softly, just enough for Janus to make it out.
“Oh, don’t make so much of it. I won’t kill them yet. They could still prove useful,” the man said. He made a gesture.
Janus felt a sharp pain on the side of his head, then everything was black.
-
Janus blinked himself awake, his head pounding and his vision swimming.
“Jan?” he heard. “Janus, are you okay?”
Was that… Roman? “Yes?” Janus said. What he heard come out was, “Nnh?”
“Is he awake?” Patton asked, sounding very worried.
“’M awake,” Janus answered, with a fair bit of effort.
Patton breathed a sigh of relief. Janus thought Roman did too, but probably not.
Janus forced his eyes open the rest of the way. They were all tied up, all seven of them. Seven? He counted again, then his eyes widened. They were missing Virgil.
They all had their hands tied behind their backs, but not to anything. They were in a tent. Logan’s head was hanging. Thomas had his eyes closed. Meditating, maybe? Remy glared forward. Patton looked at Janus worriedly. There were two other people in the tent, facing them. The staff wielder and the woman Roman had punched. A lot. Her eye was black, her lip was split, and she was glaring at Roman. Roman was ignoring her, looking at Remus instead. Remus raised an eyebrow. Roman nodded slightly.
Remus and Roman hopped to their feet without need of their hands. Janus watched, stunned, as they barreled toward the staff-wielder and the other bandit. The staff-wielder managed to put out a hand, and Remus bounced off a wall of force. Meanwhile, Roman ran full force into them both. He managed to catch them both off-guard, and he knocked them back.
“Emile, now,” Thomas said.
The ropes around everyone’s wrists loosened at once. Janus pushed himself up, only to be caught by Remy when his leg gave out, his cane nowhere to be found. Patton sprang up to support him at his other side.
Roman and Remus both came down hard on the bandit woman, wrestling away her knife and forcing her down, and Thomas rushed to incapacitate the mage, grabbing his sword from behind the woman and the staff-wielder, then hitting him over the head with the hilt of his sword. He swiftly did the same to the woman.
“Let’s go,” Logan said, and they all looked to him. He held the mallet that was intended for hammering down stakes to attach the tent to the ground.
Janus shrugged off Patton and Remy, and Roman shot him a concerned look.
They all grabbed their weapons, Janus both his knife and cane, and they went to one side of the tent, where Logan peeked through a gap in the tent canvas.
Roman placed a hand on Janus’s arm, and Janus gave him a confused stare.
Roman looked into his eyes, and Janus felt his face warm up. He prayed it didn’t show.
Roman nodded slightly. “You’re still dizzy, right? I hope you’re not hurt too bad.”
Janus frowned. “I’m fine.”
“Nope,” Roman said. “You’re staying close to me.”
“You don’t need to protect me,” Janus insisted.
“Just let me help,” Roman hissed.
“I’m not helpless!” Janus hissed back.
Logan shushed them. “The path is clear for now. Knock out any bandits you come across, so that they don’t alert the others. Find Virgil. Let’s do it.” He walked out of the tent sneakily. The rest of them followed.
Janus carried his cane, so as not to make any more noise than necessary.
Despite his annoyance, or even anger, at Roman, he did stay close to him. Roman checked often. Remy and Patton shared a look after Remy gestured his head questioningly at them. Patton shrugged.
One after the other, they clubbed bandits over the head. Mostly Logan, Remus, and Roman.
Finally, one let out a yell. Logan swore, at which Remy and Patton both looked especially surprised.
They all fought harder, more ferociously, as one bandit came after the other. Janus wasn’t sure how many were just unconscious and how many were dead. He thought of the bandit he’d stabbed before, in the clearing. He hadn’t seen him again.
Finally, it seemed like things had died down. “We have to find Virgil,” Logan said, pushing onward despite how exhausted he seemed. Janus noticed blood dripping down his leg from a gash in his pants.
“Logan,” Patton tried.
“I’ll rest when we find him,” Logan snapped.
“Looking for something?” asked a rough voice that Janus had definitely heard before. The group whipped around to find the apparent leader of the bandits holding Virgil tightly, a knife pressed to his throat hard enough for a droplet of blood to run down to his collar. The bandit was sneering at them, rage written all over his face. “I should’ve killed you lot when I had the chance.”
Virgil’s eyes were wide and fearful, and his face was bruised in a couple places. Logan glared back at the bandit with just as much anger, if not more.
“You probably should have, yeah,” Remus said. Patton shushed him.
Janus froze for a moment. For that moment, he thought he saw a snake climbing up the man’s leg.
The man held Virgil even tighter, and Virgil visibly held himself back from flinching.
“Leave, and he lives,” the man threatened.
“Just let him go,” Logan said, trying to compose himself. “We’ll be on our way when we have him back.”
The man pulled Virgil a step back. Janus watched with wide eyes as a rope snaked its way up the man’s leg, then up his side.
Logan appeared to have seen it too. “Don’t hurt him,” he begged. “Please…”
“I will if you don-”
The man was cut off as the rope tightened around his neck. It glowed purple, as did Virgil’s eyes. In his desperate struggle to regain air, the man let go of Virgil, who fell to his knees on the rough dirt. The glow of his eyes painted the dirt purple.
Logan rushed to Virgil, scooping him up to pull him away from the man who’d threatened his life. “It’s okay,” he soothed.
Virgil’s eyes still glowed. The rope tightened and tightened around the man’s neck until he stopped moving and his face was just as purple as the glowing rope. The glow abruptly vanished, and Virgil gasped for air.
Patton knelt next to Logan and Virgil, blocking Virgil’s view of the man. “Hey, Virge, it’s okay,” he murmured as Virgil attempted to calm his breathing. Logan pulled Virgil’s hand to his chest and took a deep breath for Virgil to imitate.
When Virgil was somewhat recovered, Logan having pressed many soft kisses to his scalp, and the group was less stunned, Roman spoke. “We need to get moving before anyone comes to. Can all of you walk okay?”
Logan went to stand, supporting Virgil, but he faltered when his leg oozed more blood, the gash having reopened. Thomas gently helped both Logan and Virgil stand, then scooped up Virgil, much to Logan’s chagrin. Roman offered Logan his arm, and Logan reluctantly took it.
“Let’s get somewhere safe, then regroup,” Roman said.
“Lemme heal you guys,” Virgil protested.
“No,” Logan answered immediately. “You’re tired. Rest first.”
They searched for the rest of their belongings, then once they had retrieved them, they left, in the direction Roman had determined the mountains were.
Janus was at the front with Roman, Logan, Thomas, and Virgil for a minute, then he fell back to talk to Remus and Patton. “Pat, are you okay?”
Patton nodded. “Yeah. They didn’t really hurt me that much, just twisted my arm and bruised my knees.” He smiled tiredly. “Are you alright?”
Janus nodded back. “And you, Re?”
Remus hummed. “I was hoping for a little more blood and gore, actually.”
Janus and Patton each made a face. “Gross,” Janus said.
In front of them, Remy nudged Thomas. “Are you alright?”
Thomas nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
“Are you hurt?” Remy rephrased.
Thomas glanced down at Virgil to make sure he was sleeping, as he’d drifted off shortly after they’d begun to walk. He lifted one arm, careful not to jostle Virgil. There was a gash in his side that he’d already secured clean cloth around, but he was bleeding through the dressing.
Remy’s eyes widened. “We need to take care of that,” he hissed.
“We need to get to safety first,” Thomas responded.
“You’re losing blood,” Remy insisted.
“What’s going on?” Logan asked.
“You and Thomas need medical attention, that’s what,” Remy snapped.
“We can stop soon,” Roman butted in. “Just a bit longer.”
Remy quieted, but his expression showed his dissatisfaction. He knew when to back down, though.
It was only as they began to stop and regroup that Janus let his leg go out. He knew he wouldn’t be able to lower himself carefully, so he fell back against a tree instead. Roman, having just gotten Logan situated next to Virgil, stepped over and gently pulled him back upright. Instead of the disdain Janus expected to see on his face, there was only concern.
“You’ve overworked yourself,” Roman said softly and helped Janus to sit before sitting next to him.
“Not like I had much of a choice,” Janus huffed.
Patton sat down on Janus’s other side, with Remus next to him.
“Maybe you and some of the others should go home,” Roman said, tone gentle and careful.
Janus’s face hardened. “I have to see this through,” he said. “The vision—I need to be by your side.”
Roman nodded grimly. “Alright. Just… please be careful.”
Janus paused. “I’m trying,” he finally responded.
Remus and Patton shared a knowing look.
13: The Father
Janus awoke to the sound of someone emptying the contents of their stomach. The pre-dawn light barely illuminated his surroundings. Roman and Remus were already sitting up, as was Remy, and the rest were slowly waking. He looked around to find out who was missing. “Patton,” he said finally. He and Remus met eyes, then jumped up to find Patton as quickly as possible.
They found him leaning heavily against a tree, wiping his mouth. He was sweaty and disheveled, but he smiled as much as he could when he saw them. There was something frightened in his eyes, though.
“What happened?” Remus asked, pulling Patton to him protectively.
Patton waved a hand. “I’m fine, must have just eaten something bad.”
Janus frowned. “We’ve all been eating the same things…”
Patton hummed. “My stomach is just being sensitive….”
Remus furrowed his brow. “If you’re ill…”
“I’m not,” Patton said.
“Are you sure?” Janus asked.
“Yes,” Patton insisted.
“How do you know?” Remus pressed.
“Because I’m pregnant!” Patton put both his hands over his mouth, his eyes wide. He had definitely said that loudly enough for all the others to hear.
Remus stared at Patton like he’d suddenly sprouted a new head out of each shoulder.
“Pat, that’s-” Janus began to say. Then Remus bolted, off back toward the spot where they’d slept. Janus and Patton stood there for a moment, stunned, then Patton burst into tears. Janus hugged him and began to guide them back towards camp.
When they arrived, Virgil held out his arms to Patton, and Patton practically fell into them, sobbing.
Roman grabbed Janus’s hand and began to pull him along. “We have to go get my brother,” Roman informed him.
Janus inhaled sharply. “I’d say to give him space, but time is of the essence…”
They followed the obvious path Remus had left, broken twigs and footprints in the dirt. Finally, Roman spotted him.
Remus was crouched with his back against a tree, hands clutching the sides of his head as he stared off into space.
Janus moved forward and lowered himself to the ground in front of him. “Talk to me, monster,” he said gently. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“I can’t be a father…” Remus ground out through clenched teeth.
“Oh, sure you can,” Janus said. “You’re a half-decent husband, why not a dad?”
“You don’t understand!” Remus snapped.
Janus glanced at Roman.
Roman chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, then plopped down next to Remus. “Look, Re. I’ve known you our whole lives, yeah?”
Remus was silent.
Roman pressed on, “You may be… crass, rude, disturbing-”
Janus cleared his throat.
“Right, uh…” Roman flushed. “Despite all that, you’ve always stepped up for the people you care about. Why would this be any different?”
Remus sniffled. “I’m… afraid.”
Janus nodded. “I’m sure Patton is, too. But we’ll be there to help, right, Roman?”
“Right,” Roman agreed. “Me and Janus, and I’m sure the others, too, we won’t abandon you. You’re not alone.”
Remus swallowed heavily. “Is Patton okay?”
Janus and Roman shared a look.
“Well, we should probably check on him,” Roman said. He stood, then helped Janus and Remus to their feet.
Remus practically ran back to the campsite, Janus and Roman lagging behind him. When Janus and Roman arrived, Patton and Remus were clinging to each other tightly.
“I’m sorry,” Remus said, “I shouldn’t have run off… I was scared.”
“I’m scared, too,” Patton responded, sniffling softly.
“It’ll be okay,” Remus said. “Roman and Janus will be there. It’ll be okay.”
“Yeah,” Patton said. “It will be.”
-
Janus was really starting to get tired of walking. The mountains had been looming over them for hours, and they never seemed to be getting any closer.
Roman stopped. “There,” he pointed. A break in the trees. Rocky terrain. The group picked up their pace. Soon they were running, even Janus.
They breached the treeline, and there was the base of Pious Mountain. Janus froze again. There was a cave, about a quarter of the way around the mountain if they went right. He informed the others. He wanted to despair at the thought of more walking, but they were almost there.
After another hour, Roman spotted a cave. They began to run again, then Virgil cried out, “Stop!” Everyone froze.
Virgil crouched, picked up a rock about the size of his fist, straightened again, then threw the rock toward the cave. About four yards from the cave entrance, the rock fizzled away amid sparks of orange light. They all stared.
Janus saw Roman walk through the barrier, a gateway of orange light forming around him, then he blinked, and nothing had changed.
“Roman,” Janus said. When he had Roman’s attention, he asked, “Do you trust me?”
Roman frowned. “Why?”
“Because you need to just walk into the cave,” Janus answered.
Roman balked. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Trust me, Roman, please. I had a vision.”
Roman hesitated. “Come with me, then.”
Janus took only a second to decide. “It’s worth a try.”
“What?!” Patton exclaimed. “What if you get hurt, or worse?!”
Janus looked at Patton, keeping his expression calm. “We have to try, for everyone’s sake.”
Patton wilted at that. “Be careful,” he said softly.
Janus gave him his most reassuring smile. “We’ll be back before you know it.”
Roman walked toward the barrier, and Janus followed. They stopped before they got too close, feeling the buzzing energy in the air.
“I think our best bet is for me to carry you,” Roman said.
Janus tried to think of an alternative and came up short. His face was hot. “Fine.”
Roman gently scooped him up, hunched over him, and sprinted through the barrier.
Orange light crackled around them, but did not touch them. Then they were through. Janus took a shaky breath, and Roman looked incredibly relieved. He let Janus back down onto his own two feet gently. “Right,” Roman said. “I guess now we keep going.”
They steeled themselves, then stepped into the cave.
14: The Witch
It was dark, but very warm inside the cave. They paused.
“You brought a lanter-?” Roman began to ask, then torches along the wall lit up with crimson fire in pairs on either side down the passageway.
“Right,” Janus said. “That’s…”
“I’m choosing to believe that’s a good sign,” Roman said, raising himself up to his full height. “Let’s go.”
“Slowly,” Janus said. “Who knows what kinds of traps the duchess has down here…”
So the two continued cautiously. There were a few obvious traps that they avoided carefully, but soon they came to a fork in the path.
Roman turned to Janus. “Which way?”
“Why are you asking me? You’re supposed to be the hero here!”
“You’re the one who got us into the cave!”
“Fine, um…” Janus closed his eyes to concentrate. “I don’t know… Left?”
“You don’t sound very confident,” Roman pointed out.
“Well, I can’t make myself have a vision, can I?” Janus responded, voice rising slightly at the end.
“We’re going right,” Roman said.
“What, just because I said left?”
“No, because that’s the way it feels like we should go,” Roman snapped.
“Fine,” Janus snapped back and began to lead the way down the right passageway.
“Janus-” Roman began as he hurried after him.
Something sank underneath Janus’s foot, his left. He began to trip, and the floor disappeared in front on him. Before he could even think to be frightened, he was yanked back by the back of his shirt and found himself pressed tightly to Roman’s chest. His cane was no longer in his hand, and after a couple more seconds, they heard something shatter far below them at the bottom of the pit.
Janus took a shaky breath. “You, ah… You can let go of me now,” he said softly.
Roman backed up another step away from the pit, taking Janus with him, before finally releasing him. “I’m sorry about your cane,” Roman said.
“It’s replaceable,” Janus said dismissively.
“You were right,” Roman added. “We should have gone left.”
Janus just hummed. They turned back and went to the fork again before taking the other passageway. Janus had to steady himself against the wall, and when Roman offered help, he refused.
They only saw one trap this way, a tripwire which they stepped over.
Eventually they saw a doorway, a green glow coming from within. As they entered the room, Roman gasped. It was filled with glittering gold and shimmering gems, all with that green glow glinting off of their surfaces. The light was emanating from an object at the top of a pedestal in the center of the room.
Upon closer inspection when they made their way closer, this object was a simple hand mirror. It looked exactly like the one in Janus’s bag. Something dark seemed to come from within it, a creeping sense of dread, a paranoia.
“What now?” Roman asked.
“The mirror,” Janus said breathlessly. “You have to destroy it.”
Roman looked around, then picked up a ruby larger than his hand. He hefted it and, satisfied with its mass, brought it to the pedestal. He took the ruby in both hands, held it high, and brought it down on the mirror heavily.
It shattered.
A wraith-like screech ricocheted through the cage, and Roman and Janus both covered their ears. The cave began to rumble as the screech faded.
“We have to get out of here!” Roman yelled.
“Just run!” Janus answered. “I’m right behind you!”
Roman looked conflicted for a moment, then the cave shook harder. Instead of doing as Janus said, he instead picked him up, despite his wriggling and protests, and began to sprint back toward the cave entrance. He jumped over or ducked around each trap, even as gravel began to rain down around them. He dove through the cave entrance just before it was covered by a falling boulder, wrapping himself around Janus as he rolled with his momentum.
“Roman! Janus!” Patton’s voice cried.
Janus found himself extricated from Roman’s arms by Remus, then he was being brushed off and checked over by Patton. Roman was getting the same treatment from Thomas.
“What happened?” Logan asked.
“I broke the mirror,” Roman answered. “The Dragon Witch’s mirror.”
Janus stumbled forward into Patton. He was back in the ballroom. It was on fire, it was so hot, people were screaming and bleeding and dying and dead on the floor, there was a dragon. A huge, hulking red beast, and Roman was standing between her and Janus, sword drawn, blood dripping from his temple to his jaw. Janus tried to cry out, but he couldn’t.
“Janus, are you alright?” Roman asked urgently.
“We have to get back to the palace,” Janus answered immediately. “My vision, it’s still… The mirror, I think it just made her angry.”
“I can get us back,” Virgil said. “It’ll use up… a lot of energy.”
“No, Virgil,” Logan said. “That’s very risky.”
“I have to,” Virgil insisted. “My parents are in that palace. Valerie is in that palace. Our friends are there, good people!”
Logan hesitantly nodded.
Virgil took a deep breath. “I’m going to open a portal. You’ll all have to get through it as quickly as possible, I’ll go last.”
Logan opened his mouth to protest.
“Logan and I will go last,” Virgil corrected himself.
As soon as everyone was ready, Virgil opened his arms, and a portal opened, like a tear in the air itself. It swirled with purple energy.
The adventurers filed through, one at a time, but as quickly as possible. Logan and Virgil walked through last, sweat beading on Virgil’s forehead, then the portal closed with a sound like the air was being sucked out of the area around it.
15: The Hero
Andy stood in the ballroom, off to the side, trying to disappear into the background. He took comfort from the fact that Pryce was somewhere nearby. Their cover story had finally failed when Eschive had barged into Virgil’s room to demand that he attend the party. At least he didn’t spend enough time around his nephew to recognize that Andy was not actually said nephew. Eschive decided he looked well enough to come downstairs, so Andy got dressed in Virgil’s clothes, and he went downstairs. To a party. Where multiple people would see him. And realize he wasn’t the prince. And arrest him. And torture him. And execute him-
Pryce slipped his hand into Andy’s behind a pillar and squeezed gently before letting go. Andy took a deep breath. Right. It was okay. Because Pryce was here. And the makeup made him look more like Virgil, and he had the right haircut, and their voices sounded alike. It would be fine.
“A wonderful party, isn’t it?” said a lilting voice.
Andy snapped his head over to look, and there was Duchess Adalinda Draco in all her glory. She wore a maroon gown, and her neck and ears dripped with wine-colored jewels that glinted red in the light. A gold circlet inlaid with rubies adorned her gorgeous hair. There was a glass clasped in her delicate hand, full of a translucent yellow liquid. Her lips were painted the color of blood. Andy held back a shudder at the thought.
“Your father has been so welcoming to me,” the duchess continued. “A going-away party is just the cherry on top, don’t you think?”
Andy nodded a little. “It’s a wonderful party…”
“Isn’t it just?” Adalinda asked. As she stepped closer to approach him, she stumbled slightly, and just then, Andy noticed Eschive out of the corner of his eye. He was cornered. It was a trap.
Adalinda’s drink splashed all over him as Eschive caught her. Andy looked down to find his makeup running down onto his shirt.
Eschive gasped loudly. “You’re not Prince Virgil! Guards! Seize him!”
Andy stood, shocked, as multiple guards rushed towards him. Then Pryce was in front of him, backing him toward the wall to stand between him and anyone who might harm him.
“There’s a perfectly good explanation,” he said calmly.
The king and queen had stood from their chairs and were beginning to move toward the commotion.
Suddenly, an ear-piercing shriek echoed through the ballroom. Most everyone in the room covered their ears as every glass in the room burst into shards.. They all looked toward the source of the sound to find Adalinda thrashing in Eschive’s arms. “Duchess Draco, what’s wrong?” Andy heard Eschive ask through the ringing in his ears.
Adalinda lifted her head. Red scales speckled her face. The scleras of her eyes were pitch black, her irises crimson, and her pupils slitted. She glared at Andy and Pryce, then turned her head to the king and queen.
The party guests all watched as more scales formed on her skin, as she grew in size, ripping her gown to shreds, as her face elongated into a snout, as her fingers stretched into talons, as wings burst forth from her shoulder blades. She shrieked again, this time from a mouth filled with several rows of sharp teeth and steaming spittle.
Then she breathed out a column of flames toward the ceiling.
The fire caught and spread quickly, and the chandelier fell onto several people. There was screaming and wailing as the guests fled.
“Andy, go!” Pryce commanded.
“Not without you!” Andy answered stubbornly.
Huge claws swung toward them, and Pryce drew his sword in a flash, catching them against the blade. “Andy!” he exclaimed. “Just listen to me!”
Andy ducked under a table as the Dragon Witch raised her head again and spat more fire. Then he watched as her tail swung across the floor and hit Pryce head-on, knocking him to the ground. He didn’t move. Andy went to his side immediately. He didn’t care about anything other than getting Pryce away from there.
The sound of ripping filled the room, and Andy turned to see a purple portal in the center of the room. Out stepped each of the members of the adventuring party. Prince Virgil and Logan came last, and the prince slumped into Logan’s arms as soon as the portal closed.
Janus looked around quickly, surveying the scene.
Roman, on the other hand, charged straight in, sword drawn. Thomas followed after him, though Janus could hear Remy protesting. The smell of burning flesh made Janus’s head spin.
“Virgil!” someone called. Virgil, Logan, and Janus looked over just in time to see Valerie engulfed in flame. Virgil screamed.
When the flames receded there was nothing left.
Eschive and the king and queen promptly met the same fate.
Logan started to pull Virgil toward the door, and Patton rushed to help, but Virgil fought with all the strength he had left each step of the way.
Janus looked up at the Dragon Witch. She looked back at him. “Come and get me, then,” Janus cried.
The Dragon Witch ignored Roman and Thomas in favor of Janus. She swung her claws at him, barely catching his leg and leaving three large gashes and one smaller scratch there. He fell to the floor.
Then Janus watched as Roman’s sword separated the Dragon Witch’s head from her body. It hit the floor with a mighty thud, her body hitting the floor just moments later with an even louder one.
There was silence for a few moments. Janus and Roman stared at each other with wide eyes.
Laughter. Someone was laughing. In a very familiar voice. Everyone turned to look at Remus, who was standing next to the Dragon Witch’s severed head. He laughed again.
“Of course she couldn’t finish the job,” he said. A vicious smile split his face. “Useless. There’s still one left.” He turned his head to look at Virgil.
“Remus…” Roman began softly. “What are you talking about?”
Remus turned his attention to Roman. “What do you mean? I’m the one pulling the strings, dumbass!” He stalked towards Virgil, and those not already with Virgil moved with him, trying to stay in his way. Janus couldn’t get to his feet, though.
“It took me years to get that stupid witch strong enough to stage a coup, and she couldn’t even kill all the royals!”
“Why?” Virgil asked softly, voice choked.
“Because your great grandfather stole my true name!” Remus snapped. “And when you do that to a fae, you steal their life away! I was a slave to him for forty years, and then to your grandfather for another forty!” He sneered at Virgil. “And I swore revenge against their line.”
“What?” Roman asked, unable to get any other words out.
“Keep up!” Remus said. “I’m a fae, the king stole my true name, I escaped, I meddled with Adalinda Draco’s magic… They punished me for that, my court. That’s how I ended up here. ” He made a disgusted face. “They were going to replace you,” he said, pointing at Roman, “with me. Luckily for you, Galena’s smarter than the idiot they sent to steal you away and leave me in your place.”
“Remus,” Patton spoke up. “This isn’t… This isn’t you!”
Remus sneered. “It is me, though, isn’t it? I’m not the person you met back then. I didn’t know who I was when I met you. Then I remembered, and here we are.” He turned his attention back to Virgil. “And all that’s left for me is to kill him.”
As Remus took a step forward, Patton stepped in front of Virgil, arms spread. “If you want to kill him, you’ll have to kill me first,” Patton said evenly. “Please, Remus… You can stop this now… Please.”
Remus took another step forward. “Careful what you wish for, Patty-cakes.”
Janus could see it in his mind’s eye, Remus sending a blast of green energy from his hand. The energy hitting Patton. Patton falling. So he moved.
Janus sprang to his feet and launched himself to be in between Patton and Remus, fueled by only adrenaline as his leg screamed out in protest.
It only felt cold where Remus’s attack hit him. He fell back to the floor, dazed. Patton fell to his knees at his side and began desperately trying to keep him awake. He could only pay attention to Remus, though.
“Janus!” Roman cried. He stepped in next, sword raised. He quickly turned his attention to Remus, hyper-aware of the threat he posed. “Re, I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve been a horrible brother. I should’ve stood up to Father for you, and for Patton. I could’ve done right by you, and I didn’t. But I’m trying now. You can leave. You can run away, and no one other than us has to know this was you. If you just leave Virgil alone. Please.”
Remus stalked ever-closer, a dark look in his eyes. “I’ll kill you, too,” he told Roman.
Roman lowered his sword. “Then do it.”
Remus bared his teeth. “I’m not bluffing, Roman. Get out of my way!”
“No,” Roman answered. “I won’t.”
Once again, Janus saw Remus attacking someone. This time it was Roman. He looked to his side. The mirror had fallen out of his satchel. There was a crack in the glass, vertically down the middle.
“Remember to keep your mirror nearby!”
Janus grabbed the mirror, pushed himself up as far as he could, and tossed it to Roman.
Roman caught it with his back turned, then looked at it, puzzled. Then he saw Remus lift his hand to attack again. He threw the mirror at Remus with all his might, somehow sure that was what he needed to do.
They all heard the sound of glass shattering, but when the bright red light that filled the room faded, the mirror fell to the floor, intact and unbroken, with a series of soft clinks.
Janus’s vision, once again, faded to black.
Epilogue
Roman cradled the mirror in his hands as he stepped into his home, which now felt incredibly unfamiliar. He was still covered in scratches, bruises, and worse. Grey was rushing toward him to check on him, but Roman spoke before he could get a word out. “I need to talk to my mother and father urgently. I’ll meet them in the study.”
The walk to the study was numb, empty. The portraits on the walls stared at him with disgust. He reminded himself of the court doctor’s assurances that Janus would survive. It would be okay. He looked down at the mirror. It wouldn’t be okay.
He sat down in the armchair in the corner of the study, looking around at the room as if he were seeing it for the first time. It was utilitarian, but it somehow still comforted him to be in this place that he’d often worked in from a very young age.
His father arrived first. “Good gracious, Roman, look at the state of you! Go clean yourself up.”
“I need to speak with you and Mother first, Father.”
There was silence for a few moments before Carine entered. “Roman! Are you alright, dear?!” She carefully knelt before him.
“I have something to tell you,” Roman said in lieu of an answer. He finally gained the courage to say it when he saw Galena sneak into the room. So he told them the whole story. From Remus’s grudge against the royal family to their adventure in the woods to the confrontation at the palace. He held out the mirror.
Though the duke looked at the mirror dispassionately, the duchess touched it and began to sob. Roman joined her in her tears, and once the duke left without a word, Galena came to them and hugged them both. Roman cried into the arms of both his mother and his nanny for hours.
-
Virgil held Patton tightly. They lay in Virgil’s bed in his chambers. Patton had finally stopped crying a while before, but he still occasionally shivered, despite the blankets wrapped around them.
Virgil looked up as Logan entered the room, carrying a tray. He set it down on the bedside table, then he and Virgil worked together to get Patton into a sitting position. Logan sat down with them, then distributed the glasses of water and the jam thumbprint cookies from the tray.
Patton sat between Virgil and Logan, and Virgil and Logan held him and held each other’s hands behind Patton’s back.
When Patton fell asleep, Logan moved the cups, Patton’s glasses, and his own glasses to the bedside table. He and Virgil snuggled up to Patton and fell asleep, too. They desperately needed a rest.
-
“It was… hard on us all, Emile, but I worry about Patton, Janus, and Roman especially,” Thomas said.
“All you can do is be there for them, Tommy,” Emile advised. “They all need friends right now, and you’re their friend. Be there when you can, and ask what they need occasionally.”
Thomas nodded. “You’re right…”
“Whatcha doin’?” a voice asked from the honeysuckle trellis archway that led into the center of the temple gardens.
Thomas turned to see Remy standing there, dressed in his more stylish clothes he wore on his days off. “Talking to Emile,” Thomas answered.
Emile made himself visible to Remy and waved.
Remy smiled and waved back before walking over to sit on the stone bench next to Thomas. “How’re you feeling, hun? That whole thing was… a lot.”
Thomas gave him a tense smile. “Really tired. I’ll be alright after some rest, so I’m taking a break from training. Or… Janus told me I had to, anyway, and I’m going to listen.”
Remy smiled more softly. “Good. One of the older servants is letting Logan and me take a break. Logan won’t step down as Virgil’s personal servant, but he’s accepted some help.”
Thomas nodded. “Good.”
Remy nodded back. “Yeah.”
They both looked at the fountain in front of them, and noticed that Emile had disappeared. They still remained silent. Remy slipped his hand into Thomas’s. They rested.
-
Pryce opened his eyes blearily. He caught the coattails of Prince Virgil leaving the room, and he realized he wasn’t in any pain. He looked to his right.
Andy was sitting in a chair next to him, leaning against the wall and snoring softly. Pryce smiled fondly. He sat up and gently held Andy’s hand. He watched him sleep, taking comfort in the rise and fall of his chest, until he woke up and smiled sleepily at him. And Pryce smiled back.
-
Janus sat at his readings table, head in hands, staring at the table. The wood grain was not interesting enough to keep his thoughts from wandering to Remus.
He didn’t look up when the door opened, or when someone pulled out the chair across from him and sat down.
“Mother and Father agreed to let Emile’s acolytes watch over the mirror,” said Roman. Janus just hummed in response. Roman sighed, sounding more tired than Janus had ever heard him. Then he set down a bottle heavily on the table. “Screw this, let’s drink.”
-
“I so saved your butt,” Roman slurred, pointing at Janus around the drink in his hand.
“Did not!” Janus responded in kind. “I had it all under control! Takes more than an angry bandit to kill me!”
“Admit it!” Roman cried. “You need me around.”
Janus paused for a moment, looked down at his drink, looked back up at Roman. “I do,” he said softly.
“Huh?” Roman asked.
“I do need you,” Janus said. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Huh?” Roman repeated.
Janus leaned forward over the table suddenly and pressed his lips to Roman’s. Roman’s stillness worried him for a moment, but then he leaned into the kiss.
When Janus awoke in the morning, he was curled up in his bed, in Roman’s arms, still wearing the clothes he’d been wearing the night before.
-
The coronation wasn’t exactly a happy day. Virgil didn’t particularly want the crown. Valerie was the one who was supposed to be the next ruler. The thought of replacing her made Virgil want to vomit. Logan squeezed his hand. Then the acolyte of the Queen Goddess began to speak, to ask Virgil about his oath to the kingdom. Virgil agreed. The crowd cheered. When he left the temple, at least all his friends were waiting for him. Patton hugged him tightly.
-
“What did you decide to name her?” Janus asked, looking down in awe at the cooing infant in his arms.
Patton took a deep breath. “Rhiannon.”
Virgil grinned as the baby gripped his finger. “I love it. That’s a perfect name.”
Roman patted Patton’s shoulder. “Get some rest while you can. We’ll watch over her for a while.”
A chorus of agreements sounded throughout the room, and Patton found himself feeling so safe and loved that falling asleep was as easy as taking a breath and letting it out.
-
Logan bounced Rhiannon around the group gently, holding her exactly as Patton had shown him.
“Logan,” Janus said.
“Logan,” Roman repeated.
“Logan!” Virgil said.
Logan looked over.
“She’s not fussing anymore, silly. Come set her down and lay with us,” Patton instructed.
Logan set the baby down between Virgil and Patton, then spread himself out on the picnic blanket between Virgil and Thomas.
“That one looks like a duck,” Patton said softly, pointing to a cloud.
“Yeah,” Janus said. “Yeah, it does.”
Final Note
Wow! I'm so proud of this one, guys! Longest fic I've ever finished!!! I hope you really enjoyed, please tell me what you think! Remember you can find @creative-lampd-liberties's art here [link to art post]! Thank you so much to the mods of @tss-storytime! And thank you to you, yes you, for reading!
#tssstorytimesubmission2023#sanders sides#roman sanders#remus sanders#janus sanders#patton sanders#logan sanders#character thomas#remy sleep#remy sanders#dr emile picani#sanders sides fic#sanders sides fanfiction#ghostie writes#mind the warnings in part 1
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𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐭.
Chapter 3 : Kindred Spirits, all the same…
——— ——— ———
That meeting room felt like a battleground of sorts. Not to be won with sweat, guns, and bullets. But one that was well outside of your depth yet been instructed to follow through. Friendliness was never your strong suit. Too many people could hurt you, and too many already have...
Life could only treat you like shit for so long before you end up a numb, angry pessimist with trust issues.
At least that’s the conclusion you came to.
The tension in the room was heavy. Weighing down on your chest. The two men who walked in first were still talking to each other, even snickering at some inside jokes.
Something about a helicopter?
That was all that filled the silence. The one with the cracked skull mask hadn’t even spoken a word to the others as he walked in. Bit odd considering they’re his teammates... But guessed it was your presence that kept him from doing so.
Still, not one has greeted or acknowledged you directly beyond their stares and sly comments to each other. Even then, you knew their attention was all on you.
You watch as the masked man moved from the threshold of the door to take the last available seat.
Right. Next. To. You.
You felt your body stiffen. His close presence making your jaw tighten and nostrils flare. It felt as if you were expecting some form of conflict. Your body having a visceral reaction to someone like him sitting that close to you.
There was something about him that immediately has you on your guard. Could it be the way he keeps staring at you, only from the corner of his eyes? The way he hasn’t even acknowledged his comrades? Just how absolutely massive he was? The fact that he wore a mask while surrounded by his teammates? Close mates of his, your mind reminds you. Whatever it was, it sent a chill running down your spine. Forcing you to sit just a little bit straighter.
Trust. Loyalty. Vulnerability.That’s what was needed in order for this all to work. A team can’t function without it. Hell, that’s what made a group of trained killers a team. Even as someone who doesn’t easily give it, you knew that. But you were willing to at least try for the sake of your paycheck. Even if the thought of opening up made you feel like your skin was being rubbed raw.
Unfortunately it wasn’t a new feeling. One that makes your muscles coil and tense. These men have the potential to be either your allies or your enemies.
You hope the former.
Yet their— already clear —displeasure/hesitation of having an outsider being accepted into their fold told you this wasn’t gonna be easy. Evident by the tension in just first few minutes of you being in their space.
How is an outsider like you supposed to find a place in this already tight-knit group?
“Alright, let’s get this started.”
A gruff Liverpudlian accent breaks the silence. Your attention snaps from the man beside you to the fourth and final man as he enters the room. An air of authority and control following him, causing the two men that were murmuring to each other to stop.
First thing you notice about him? He looks tired. His face aged from the years of conflict, bags under his eyes. Deep blue eyes that seemed to have seen far too much and spent too many long nights awake.
A worn bucket hat atop his head. His bushier mustache with thick sideburns rounding out his face. That’s when you recognized him from the photo Laswell showed you. You felt a smirk tug at the corners of your mouth.
So, this was to be your Captain for the time being.… he doesn’t seem too bad…
“As I’m sure, you lot already noticed the new face in the room.” He states. The Captain stands on the opposite side of the table from the group, reaching out to the three manilla folders that laid in the middle. His wrist flicking one out to each member but you.
Then he looks to you, waving you up by his side. You promptly follow the silent command. Your combat boots shuffling against the thin carpet. You took your place next to Captain Price, falling back into a familiar pose. Just like the obedient dog you once were. Standing tall with your arms tucked behind your back, feet shoulder-length apart. Chin held up high and a neutral look on your face.
You weren’t much for introductions. Hating all the eyes on you. People assessing and deeming your worth right then and there. It always put you on edge. You find a brown water stain on the wall to hold your stare. All the while you could feel the weight of their judgement heavy on your shoulders.
You are worth more than mere numbers on paper.
Your quick but dull eyes moved to look at the three men gathered before you. Studying them right back as they were studying you. Tuning out anything Price was saying about you and your new role within the team. Only hearing him as he introduced each of the men before you.
You quickly glanced at each of the men who were to be your new teammates as they were introduced. Soap, the one with the Warhawk, seemed excited and maybe even a bit intrigued by your presence. While Gaz, the other with a darker skin tone, a cap and gentle brown eyes; just offered a polite smile and nod. The two sergeants.
Then your eyes locked with whiskey brown ones.
Lieutenant Simon Riley… Ghost.
You note the way his eyes were cold, hardened by your stare. Yet there was a deep sadness in them. Held back and buried deep.
Almost reminding you of yourself.
Realizing your eyes lingered on him longer than the others, Ghost narrowed his. A scoff puffing out his nose in a quiet huff.
You narrowed your gaze back, just the slightest bit. Not willing to roll over and expose your belly like some mutt. There, you could just imagine the thoughts running through his head. What’s she doing here? How much damage could a lil’ lady like her do that I can’t? At least that’s what you assumed was going through Ghost’s head, given his cold attitude.
You snap back when Price’s hand clasped you on your shoulder, telling you welcome and to return to your seat. Blinking for a moment, you look to Price and give a curt nod. Then returned to the chair right next to Ghost. This time pulling it away from the table and swinging backwards. You plopped down on it, your arms resting on top of the back, hands linking together loosely. Your jaw was tight but kept your shoulders relaxed, wanting to get this done and over with.
You were no longer a trained military Lieutenant. Who said you had to adhere to all of their strict standards? You’re a PMC soldier now, having more freedom than them— less red tape holding you back. You were free to do what you pleased as long as it didn’t interfere with the mission. Right? You were told to be friendly. Not someone they can walk all over. Sitting backwards was just your small act of reminding them just that.
That’s when the masked Lieutenant decided to break his silence. Clearly not impressed with you or your actions.
"Ain’t this cozy?" he finally spoke, murmuring under his breath. His voice is low and gravelly, a hint of disdain weaving through a thick Mancunian accent. His arms were crossed over his wide chest now. He didn't wait for an answer before continuing, his words laced with sarcasm. "Stray, was it? That supposed to be some kind of joke?"
Price seemed to shoot a glare at the Lieutenant but the man paid his Captain no mind. Staring down at you, waiting for your retort. Wanting to see how easy you break. You chose not to answer, not wanting to even dignify that with a response.
Ghost shifted in his seat, his muscles involuntary tightening. Not happy about the close proximity or your lack of response. Then Ghost's voice, derisive and laced with barely veiled disdain, cut through the room once more— but not towards you.
"So, we're takin' on charity cases now, are we?"
“Focus on the meeting, Lieutenant.”
You barked at him in a harsh tone. Addressing him in your own authoritative ‘Lieutenant’ voice. You once held the same rank as him, and wasn’t afraid to remind these men of it. Your eyes looking to the side at him, not bothered enough to even turn your head at him, with contempt. Bloody bastard, trying to rile me up…
There was almost a deafening silence that fell over the room. The two Sergeants exchanging a look before looking back at you and Ghost. Almost sure chaos was about to erupt.
You roll your shoulders, as if to brush off the conversation Ghost tried to initiate. Your face staying neutral as you force your attention back on Price. Typical… probs feeling like he needs to assert himself over the fresh meat. Still, you could feel the heat of his glare on you. Like daggers trying to pierce your skin. But kept your focus on the Captain, waiting for him to keep going.
“Please continue, Captain.” You say while trying to rein yourself back in. It’s just another job and he’s just another prick. You tell yourself this over and over, like a mantra, in effort to keep your cool.
The undercurrents of hostility in the room was growing by leaps and bounds within seconds. The team glanced from one to the other as Price cleared his throat. Then he resumed the briefing, detailing the mission parameters and objectives with pointed professionalism. Although you can tell while Ghost's attention remained on the Captain's words, his peripheral vision was keeping tabs on your reactions and body language.
"Right now, we all have a moment to get our bearings," Price stated, glancing between his team, lingering between you and Ghost for a moment longer, “but we'll need to be ready at a moment’s notice the second Laswell gets a break in the intel we gathered.”
The intel Price spoke of seemed to be linked to the missing groups of young men, ages ranging anywhere from 16-20. It started in one of the remote villages in Russia and spread out like wildfire.
Of course, old myths and legends were what locals chalked it up to. After all, it was only a handful at a time. At first. Then it went international. Taking much more than just a few. So much so that the US and SAS were getting themselves involved now.
As Price wrapped up the details, the Lieutenant seemed to refrain from any further verbal sparring. Once the briefing concluded, the team stood, and Ghost, full of silent reserve and palpable disdain, made to pass by you.
"Don't get too comfortable here, Stray," he warned in a growl low enough for only you to hear.
You exhale a huff through your nostrils at his words. Must be the fuckin’ guard dog of the pack. Steadily you rise from your seat, swinging the foldable metal chair back in line with the others before promptly making an exit.
—— —— ——
Ghost plodded out of the room, his heavy boots thudding rhythmically down the hallway. Heading towards the one place he knew that he’d find some sort of control. His mind immersed in strategic considerations and personal vexations.
In the armory, Ghost began prepping his gear, his movements precise and well practiced. His thoughts were still partly on you, though he wouldn’t admit it. The new variable in his otherwise predictable environment was irksome enough, but there was something else, an edge to your defiance that Ghost found... discomforting.
Price soon joined him, knowing his second in command well, grabbing his own equipment. The elder soldier cast a discerning gaze at Ghost, reading the subtle signs of discontent in his Lieutenant’s posture. "Give the lass a chance, Simon," Price urged, the use of Ghost's given name indicating the seriousness of his request.
Ghost merely grunted in response, not willing to concede the point just yet.
She'll have to prove herself first. Until then, she's just another liability.
#simon ghost riley#call of duty modern warfare 2#ghost x reader#ao3 fanfic#call of duty#don’t feed a stray if you don’t intend to keep it#fanfic#ghost cod#ghost fanfiction#ghostie boi#sr#simon ghost x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#cod x reader#cod mwii#cod mw2#x y/n#x reader#simon riley
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter & Tom Riddle Characters: Tom Riddle, Harry Potter, mrs. cole, Albus Dumbledore Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, 1940s, Wool's Orphanage (Harry Potter), is Harry an imaginary friend or is he haunting Tom?, who knows!, certainly not me, Concerns of mental instability, Canon-Typical Violence, (Referenced) - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Character Death Series: Part 3 of Promptober 2024 collection Summary:
There’s a boy.
Tom knows the other orphans at Wool’s and the matron think he’s insane. He knows they’re wrong, so this doesn’t bother him as much as their inexplicable hatred of him. Or, at least, it hadn’t. Until the boy began appearing in the shadows of Tom’s room or the corner of his eye.
#Harry potter#fanfiction#ao3#tomarry#mostly ghosty harry I guess#its almost like Harry gets sent back to watch Tom grow but he can't really do anything
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cant tell you how much this excites me. New chapter of Rope out and i need to celebrate this word count :) any writing prompts?
#carlisle cullen#esme cullen#carlesme#my writing#twilight fanfiction#A Rope in Hand#I'm thinking of drawing them soon but im working on a ghosty portrait of Esme atm#but imagine how gorgeous they'll be all painted up together#so mommy daddy
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jealousjj!
“Yo, Jay, you good?”
Expected answer? Oh yeah, he was good. He was fucking great. He was surrounded by friends and people who had felt like his family long before he knew the true meaning of the word. He was brilliant.
Honest answer? He was about thirty seconds away from convincing himself the lifetime in prison sentence would be worth it.
“Fucking peachy,” he grumbled, the grip on his gloves tight and firm—a little too fucking firm considering his knuckles were white.
“Yeah, you look it,” Pope muttered, sarcasm dripping from his voice as he looked away from the motorbike he was kneeling in front of and instead towards the blond. “Stop doing that, you look constipated!”
“Fuck off,” JJ rolled his eyes but then he heard her laugh—heard her fucking giggle—and his eyes were back on the other side of the dirt track.
The dirt bike races weren’t necessarily an official—or legal event—in Kildare. But they were traditional and the cops always turned a blind eye to the event, so everyone rolled with it. It took place on a makeshift track beyond the golf courses, far enough away from town to be a disturbance but firmly on the kook side of the island.
And if that didn’t make him uncomfortable enough, he now had to watch some kook with a flashy bike flirt with Kiara like he was the king of the fucking world.
“If you stare for long enough, he might turn to stone,” Cleo supplied as she sat on a pop-up table beside JJ’s bike.
JJ sent a glare her way but the girl only laughed.
“I’m not staring,” he said simply.
“Oh, so you’re the kinda guy who denies he’s jealous?” Cleo commented.
His head snapped towards her. “I’m not jealous.”
“Good,” she said with a grin as she looked over his shoulder. “Because I think he just gave Kiara his number.”
“What!?”
He ignored Cleo’s cackling as he threw his gloves on the ground beside the bike, muttering some half-assed apology when he almost hit Pope as he did so before he made his way to the other side of the dirt track. His eyes were zoned on the man across from Kiara, the one with brown curly hair and a smile that made him a little nauseous. The same man whose hand was now reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
But he reached her first.
His arm was wrapped around her waist and tugged her back against his chest, just out of his reach. “Hey baby, I see you’ve met Duke.”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “It’s Dustin.”
JJ flashed him a smile. “That’s what I said.”
Dustin looked between the two of them, his eyes lingering on the arm wrapped around Kiara’s face. “I didn’t realise you had a boyfriend,” he said eventually and his nose scrunched up a little. “Couldn’t have mentioned it?”
“She shouldn’t have to if it was a friendly talk, right, Devon?” JJ asked, the words gritted through clenched teeth.
“Right,” Dustin murmured, something flashing in his dark eyes. “See you out on the track, Maybank?”
“I hope you don’t get too much dirt on your visor,” he snapped back before he started walking back towards where his set up was, his arm around Kiara only tightening. He didn’t even need to look at her to know that she was either pissed off or thoroughly amused.
“You know, when you get jealous, there is a little vein right there that just—”
He lightly slapped her hand away when she reached towards his face and glowered. “Not funny.”
“It’s a little funny,” Kiara chipped, lips pressed together to hide her grin.
“Evil woman,” JJ murmured. “Taking amusement in my misery.”
“In your jealousy actually,” Kiara corrected and laughed when the blond rolled his eyes.
“I wasn’t jealous!”
She raised her brows. “Oh, so I can go back to Dustin—”
His arm instantly tightened around her, holding her closer to his chest to the point he wouldn't be surprised if she could feel the way his heart was beating wildly in his chest. “Absolutely fucking not.”
“Caveman,” Kiara murmured in amusement as she pressed a kiss on his cheek.
“Your caveman,”
#ghostie's 1k celebration#jiara#outer banks#obx#jj maybank#kiara carrera#jiara fic#jiara fanfic#jiara fanfiction#outer banks fic#outer banks fanfic#outer banks fanfiction#obx fic#obx fanfic#obx fanfiction
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