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akaashisbabygirl · 4 years ago

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you’re just a game he likes to play

pairings: akaashi x female!reader

genre: angst, romance, NSFW 18+

warnings: use of drugs, drinking, vaginal penetration, fingering, oral (female receiving), angst angst angst

words: 2.6k

a/n: i’m sorry for not posting as much. i’ve always wondered how people write really long fics, and here i am. i spent last night + this morning working on this, so i hope you all enjoy <3 this i planned to be a one shot so i probably won’t be doing a part two

‘are you awake right now?’

akaashi’s fingers ghosted over his phone, a slight cringe filling his mind as he thought about sending the message. eventually, everyone around him started to pick up on his quiet, drunken tone.

“who’s the girl you’re texting?” kenma asked.

“it’s no one...” he said back softly, locking his phone. as much as he tried to play it off as if he wasn’t texting anyone, he knew that one of the boys were going to comment about it sooner or later.

“come on man, we all know it’s hayami,” kuroo interrupted. akaashi knew kuroo meant it as a joke. as much as akaashi knew that kuroo was joking, yet there was still that smirk that rested on kuroo’s face that akaashi was so desperate to punch. it had been a year since akaashi had fallen out of love with hayami, a girl he knew he stood no chance with.

within that year, things had changed. he never used to drink or anything. he had changed so much. it bugged him whenever the other men talked about love and girls. he started to think why it couldn’t be him, why he couldn’t be the one talking about a girl he loves. he wanted to express the love he felt for the girl that ended up catching him by surprise when he least expected. the same type of love that everyone thought was for hayami.

one thing that akaashi was clear of was that he was deeply, and drunkenly in love with you.

like his friends knew, there had been a time in his life when he was in love with hayami. but after finding out that she had hooked up with one of his high school friends after she had told him that she loved him, akaashi started to fall out of love; and while he was in his broken state was when you came along. just when he needed.

everyone in the group was sure that akaashi was going to always be in love with hayami, only because she was said to be the hottest girl on campus; and he himself was a very good looking guy. everyone wanted her. unfortunately, akaashi’s friends couldn’t see that the love he had once felt for her had now died down into the pit of his chest.

however, despite telling himself that he had fallen out of love with hayami, he also hid behind the thoughts of your beautiful soft hair and the way you felt so small compared to him behind the fact that he still loved hayami. because, what is the point of loving someone who is just your closest friend?

akaashi brought the glass of alcohol to his lips once more, letting the cold liquid slide down his throat. he sighed as he just about finished his third glass. had the room gotten louder? it had gotten to the point where he couldn’t make out the words of what his friends were saying. it was just too loud.

he desperately wanted to text you. he wanted to send you cute messages about wanting to cuddle you, and kiss you and about how much he misses your touch and how he loves the feeling of your tiny body against his. after his third glass, those thoughts began to turn sexual. he felt different. had the others given him something?

he remembered asking kuroo earlier in the night for something that would ‘take his mind off of everything’, maybe kuroo had given him something. his hands held onto the glass again as he watched the man across from him fill his glass again.

his hands fiddled with his phone again. he so desperately wanted to message you right now, but his mind was clouded with sexual thoughts that he had never thought about before. he thought about how good he would be able to fill you up, how small you would be against him. he closed his eyes and sighed to the thought mentally. he wasn’t a pervert, at least he thought he wasn’t.

the two of you were just friends. he respected the boundaries of your friendship. he wasn’t going to push you, he didn’t even know if you felt the same way about him. but once again, his mind and everyone around him kept telling him that he was in love with hayami.

‘stick with the girl that all your friends know you love. you don’t wanna ruin your friendship with her’ said the narrator inside his mind, as if he was telling akaashi what to do instead of letting him figure this madness out on his own.

akaashi stood up from the chair, making his way to the bathroom. after minutes, he was looking at his messy reflection in the bathroom mirror. he knew it was time to go home. he could see it in his reflection. he was drunk. drunk and in love. he wanted you by his side right now. maybe fixing his jacket or his hair. how you would be on your tiptoes just to try and reach him. how fucking cute. or how you would stand on your tiptoes to try and reach his lips.

akaashi left the house, standing outside on the street waiting for a cab to pull up.

“what’s the address?” the man asked.

without a thought, he gave the man your street name. space and time had began to blur, his phone in his hands as the thought of you rushed throughout his mind.

you were in your room, sitting on your bed in an oversized shirt. your eyes scanned along the messages what you had just received from akaashi.

‘are you awake?’ 2:43AM

one missed call. 2:49AM

‘i miss you’ 2:54AM

‘i need your touch’ 2:58AM

one missed call. 3:02AM

‘need you so badly’ 3:06AM

he was high.

you knew he was. there was no way in hell akaashi would ever text you like this. he was in love with hayami. you were sure about this. you felt a stinging pain in your chest because it was obvious that you were deeply in love with akaashi keiji. you hated the way you were so badly separated from even being close to a relationship with him because the narrator in your mind always came back to remind you that akaashi was in fact in love with hayami.

your fingers typed back.

‘i am not hayami. you have the wrong contact’ 3:10AM

there was no reply back. you thought that maybe he reached hayami’s apartment and that he was currently somewhere with her right now. you threw a pillow over your head.

he was such an amazing man. you had fallen in love with the person that he is, how he would always be there whenever you needed him so desperately. he helped you when you were down. it made you mad that hayami only wanted akaashi for his popularity around campus and not for the amazing person that he is.

it was hard to try and get over those feeling that were painfully stabbing your heart. you wanted to be with him. god, you wanted to be with him so fucking badly. but you knew that it would never happen.

because akaashi was in love with hayami.

the sound of knocking on your door threw you out of your haze. you checked your phone. no new messages from him. you opened the door, your eyes widening as his drunken state stood right in front of you. you hated to admit that he always took your breath away, even right now. he was so tall compared to you.

“can i come in?” his voice asked softly.

you nodded your head, opening your door further so he could come inside.

akaashi sat himself down on your couch. he looked lost. he was lost. he watched as you sat down next to him, your eyes not even looking in his direction.

“are you... um... cold?” he asked, trying to make conversation.

you shook your head, silence running throughout the apartment.

“let me stay,” he blurted out. in fact, he had surprised you.

“you’re drunk,” you hated to admit the fact that his tone was deep and intoxicating.

your fingers gripped his chin harshly, fingers digging into his jaw. you looked directly into his eyes. “and i don’t want to sit here and listen to you drunkenly express your love for hayami. not tonight.”

he watched as you pulled away from him, “i don’t love hayami! i don’t love her, i don’t know why you would think that!”

you stood up, trying to leave the room. you didn’t want to be around him right now. however, his hand gripping onto your wrist stopped your movement entirely.

without thinking, your hand slapped his cheek. hard. you were so angry. angry at the fact that you kept putting up with the same shit after knowing he didn’t feel the same way about you. tears perked in the corners of your eyes as you tried to control your emotions.

his beautiful face was inches away from yours as he pulled you to sit back down on the couch. his soft lips met yours for the first time. the two of you sighed into the kiss, almost as if it was some sort of relief for the both of you. his kisses were gentle, even if he was messily drunk right now. he was always gentle with you.

a soft groan escaped his lips as you opened your mouth, his tongue finding its way easily. he softly whispered against the kiss, “let me taste you... please.”

so polite.

you pulled your lips from his, looking into his blue coloured eyes. your lips partly opened. he saw your shy little nod.

“that’s my girl.”

the next few minutes had went by slowly. his lips attacked yours, his large hands pulling your body to straddle his waist, your clothed cunt pressing against his growing erection. his hands helped you grind against him as his tongue explored your mouth. your hands held tightly onto his shoulders as his hands grasped your ass.

akaashi stood up, having you stand up with him. he walked you down to your bedroom, his lips stayed attached to yours.

the two of you made your way into the bedroom, akaashi’s jacket long discarded somewhere on the floor of the apartment. he gently pushed you down onto the bed.

his hands found your thighs, spreading your legs open. his touches were soft and careful. he didn’t want to hurt you.

“tell me what you want me to do.”

“i want you to touch me,” you said as he removed his shirt, “please touch me.”

his hand found your ankle and lifted your leg slightly, pressing a soft kiss onto your ankle. akaashi kissed his way up your leg, his fingers removing your underwear.

his hands pushed your skirt up, his hands now grasping your legs with a firm grip. all his attention was on your womanhood now.

“so fucking pretty.”

he gathered your slick with his tongue, before drawing circles on your clit. he loved how your moans started to grow in pitch.

you affected him more than the alcohol did.

your hands clenched onto the bedsheets so tightly. he listened to your moans as his tongue ran along your messy cunt. he knew that you were holding yourself back. he could tell that your hands were clenching tightly onto the bedsheets, holding yourself back from grinding on his face.

one of his hands moved from holding your thighs down to toy with your clit. he could feel your body shaking and squirming underneath his large build.

akaashi never pulled away. even when you were starting to cum on his tongue. one of your legs had made their way onto his shoulder, the other around your waist.

akaashi’s face was coated with your juices. he removed his fact from your cunt, looking at you.

“i need to ask you... do you want to continue?”

you almost wanted to cry out now. akaashi had just made you cum. he was here right now, in between your legs, shirtless looking at you. you loved him. you loved him so fucking much. you couldn’t believe that this was happening right now.

“i want to.”

“yeah?” he placed your leg back down onto the bed, “tell me exactly what you want from me.”

“i want you to fuck me. please... fuck me.”

akaashi gave you a little smirk as he reached for his belt. the sound his belt made caught your attention quickly, your eyes darting to his lower parts.

you watched as he removed his pants and boxers. the size of his length made you press your knees together.

“i-its not gonna fit,” you mumbled softly, a deep red blush spreading over your cheeks.

akaashi chuckled, “i’ll make sure it fits.”

his voice was soft. he made you feel okay, made you feel safe. akaashi helped you remove the shirt from your body, “look how pretty you are.”

akaashi’s fingers found your entrance in no time. he pushed two fingers into you, listening to how you started moaning again. he loved the feeling of your tight walls around his fingers. he watched you clench around his fingers and with the beautiful moans you were giving him, he was ready to make you cum again. his skilled digits curled inside of your cunt, a cry falling from your lips as he did so.

akaashi leaned down to kiss your open mouth. you could feel him smiling into your mouth.

“i’m ready,” you mumbled out against the kiss, “akaashi, fuck me, please.”

akaashi removed his fingers from you, gathering your juices with the tip of his cock. he made sure he coated himself before pushing the tip in. he could hear your small voice whimpering and your soft pants.

he looked at you, tears rolling down your cheeks as you tried to adjust to his size. he softly kissed both of your tears.

“s-so big,” you whispered against his lips as you felt akaashi slowly start thrusting.

he smirked, his head dipping down to your neck to suck and kiss your skin. he looked at you, your voice broken and whimpering. you were crying for his cock. you could feel him twitch inside of you. he pulled his dick out before pushing back in, looking at where your bodies were connected.

akaashi could see the little bulge on your lower stomach. he grabbed onto your small hand, placing it down on your lower stomach so you could feel him. he gave you another deep thrust. your body moved with his thrusts. akaashi watched as your little body shook uncontrollably whenever his hips met with yours.

even akaashi was under the impression that your small body wouldn’t be able to fit him, but it was almost as if you were made for him.

“you feel so good around my cock.”

akaashi angled your legs, hooking them to his arms. the new angle made your eyes roll to the back of your head. one of your hands grabbed a handful of his hair, making him throw his head back. your lips pressed softly along his jawline.

“s-so good, s-so fuckin’ good,” you moaned against his skin.

your forehead met with his as his thrusts became deeper and deeper. his voice was broken, his cock twitching.

“cum inside me,” you mumbled softly, soft enough for him to hear. his thrusts were deep and he could feel you climax around his length.

“i love you so fucking much,” he mumbled against your skin, “so fucking much that it hurts.”

“i know,” you cooed, kissing his cheek softly, “i love you too.”

he finished inside of you. you saying that was the last thing he remembered. he felt so safe in your arms, naked and bodies tangled. he knew his cum was dripping from your stretched hole. he fell asleep there in your arms.

you felt so at home, so safe in this moment. you shut your eyes too, falling asleep, enjoying this moment.

because deep down, you knew that in the morning, you weren’t hayami.

#nsfw—🎟#haikyuu smut #akaashi smut #akaashi keiji smut #keiji smut

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sorryimananti-romantic · 4 years ago

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Mist | Choi San | Chapter 3

Pairing: Choi San x OC (Seohyun)

Genre: supernatural (ghost), romance, high school

Trigger Warnings: paranormal, death mentions, violence

Words: 9.9k

Disclaimer: I do not own anything except my original character and the story. I do not own any gifs or pictures used.

Full story on Wattpad (don’t spoil here if you read there too)

chapter directory

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"But I want to sleep..." Seohyun complained.

"Is sleep more important to you than us?" Wooyoung asked.

"Of course it is. Is that even a question?" Seohyun raised her brow and Wooyoung gaped at her.

"We've been friends for long now, Wooyoung, I thought you knew better not to ask questions like these," Yeosang said, laughing.

It had been more than a month now since that incident with San. Seohyun looked at each of them slowly, smiling. Despite herself, she had gotten quite used to the company of these boys. And they were EIGHT. It was hard to not be alone. Even if some of them were busy, the rest would always fool around after school as well.

Seohyun had gotten to know them well now too. She knew that Hongjoong, the oldest, also acted like one. He had a thing for fashion, and had reformed her navy blue cap that she always wore, embroidering a cat on it.

Seonghwa was the mom of this group for sure. He was always keeping them in check, always stopping them from doing something stupid (which was most of the times) and always helping them with homework. He was very caring, and he couldn't hide that part of himself.

Yunho was the clown of the group, and surprisingly, she was getting along with him and Yeosang quite well. Yeosang and her had the savageness in common, which mixed well with Yunho's humor. Since the three sat next to each other, they would always pass a joke or two to her even during class, and she had to beg them to stop one too many times.

Wooyoung and Mingi were quite funny too. There was just something contagious about their smiles. Seohyun found herself smiling a lot in their company. It didn't help that Wooyoung laughed like a hyena; even when she had no reason to laugh, she'd burst out laughing when she heard Wooyoung laugh.

She was getting along well with Jongho too, especially because they were paired for a project. She hadn't had the chance to talk to him much but once she did, she found that he was actually quite witty despite his dad jokes, and that he loved singing and... breaking apples. Which was weird but it was fun to see how strong he was.

"All you do is sleep, Seohyun. You have to come with us now," San insisted.

Seohyun stared at San. She was glad they were out of danger -for now. The old ghost had finally moved on after realizing that killing Seohyun was not worth it (thanks to Jiwoo). San had gotten close to Jiwoo as well. When she was not hanging out with the boys, she was with San. He liked being in her company because apparently 'he didn't want to look stupid alone staring at the distance'. He could see all sorts of ghosts now and Seohyun was helping him practice differentiating between the living and the dead.

"All right, but if I see something stupid, I leave. Okay?" Seohyun locked eyes with him and he nodded assuredly, smiling and showing off his dimples.

Hongjoong had been insisting that she finally come to their 'second home'. Apparently it was a warehouse that Hongjoong's father owned but had no use for so Hongjoong turned it into a place for him and the boys to hang out. She had no idea what they did there, and they finally wanted to show her the place because they all 'approved of her now and accepted her as one of them'.

The warehouse wasn't far from school so they decided to walk there. The black cat was walking with them now. San bent to pick her up, patting her head.

"Still didn't come up with a name?" Seohyun asked.

"You rejected Shiber. I don't want any other name," San pouted.

"I told you you could call it Shiber, I'll just... call it whatever I call her... hey what do I even call her?" Seohyun wondered.

"You never actually call her, do you?" San laughed a little, caressing the cat's neck, "She sticks to you, and you didn't even give her a name. I'm disappointed in you."

"I couldn't find the right name," Seohyun mumbled, frowning.

"Still, she's been your friend for what, like a year now-"

"FINE. Shiber. That sounds like a male name though."

"It's my plushie's name, but she reminds me of it," San admitted.

"You're naming my cat after a plushie? SAN!" Seohyun punched San's arm, making him laugh out loud. Wooyoung joined them, grinning.

"San's had that plushie since he was a kid," Wooyoung said. "I'm not surprised that he couldn't come up with any other name."

"You should've told me before, I would have never allowed him to name the cat then..." Seohyun shook her head but grinned.

"We're here!" Hongjoong announced, and Seohyun took off her sunglasses as she looked at the large warehouse, the sun reflecting harshly back at her, making her eyes water.

They went inside, Seohyun stepping in last and she blinked as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Mingi turned the light on, and she ran her eyes around.

"Woah," she breathed. It really did feel like a 'home'. The place had everything they could think of; sofas, couches, tables, a fridge for snacks, a basket for basketball, and so many musical instruments and equipment. "Are you guys secretly famous musicians or what?"

"Nothing like that," Seonghwa laughed, "We just really like music. Hongjoong is always making songs though. We fool around."

"I wouldn't call this 'fooling around'," Seohyun said, walking towards the equipment, stopping mid-way. "Can I?"

"Of course," several of them replied, nodding. She smiled as she ran her fingers across the piano, looking at the speakers and the mics. She saw some pages, probably lyrics scribbled on them, lying on the table near.

"So you guys... make music? Do you want to be idols or something?"

"For now, we're just exploring," Jongho replied, "Who knows? Maybe some of us might want to go into the musical side."

"So you all sing?"

"I'm the rapper," Mingi said, "Hongjoong raps too."

Seohyun made an impressed face. She pressed some of the piano keys, and something clicked at her mind. She looked up at Hongjoong as a grin spread across her face. "So that's why your fingers are always tapping at the desk. You make music!"

"Oh? I'm surprised you noticed," Hongjoong admitted.

"It's hard to not notice when you're sitting in my vision with fingers tapping nonstop while I'm trying to focus in class. You were doing something like this today, weren't you?" Seohyun said and played the keys that had unintentionally been printed in her memory.

"Woah, I'm more surprised that you remembered it!" Hongjoong clapped in disbelief and then narrowed his eyes at her. "Do you... know how to play?"

"The piano? Not much. But I have a drum set at home," Seohyun said and she saw as the boys looked at each other, applauding her.

"What?" Seohyun asked.

"We knew there was something about you," Wooyoung went on dramatically, waving his hands as he said "who knew we had a shared passion for music?"

"I wouldn't call it 'passion' per se, it's more of a... hobby. A stress-reliever, if you will. And stop ogling at me like you guys won a jackpot. I know what's going through your heads, and I say no."

"But you can play!" Mingi wailed, "We need more people to play the instruments! These guys-" he pointed at the boys one by one, "-they never learn!"

"Hey, hey, hey, look who's saying! Didn't you want to learn drums? What happened to that?"

"I don't have a drum-set!"

"I can play too!" Jongho and Yeosang complained.

Seohyun watched as the boys started arguing among themselves, and she shook her head. She had never imagined they like making music this much. If she had known, she might not have told them about her drums, much less her room full of instruments at a time like this.

"If you don't shut up, I'll never bring any instrument here."

"You mean you will if we shut up?" San asked, followed by Seonghwa who said, "You have more than one instrument?"

Seohyun sighed. "This is overwhelming, okay? Like I respect what you do, but I'm still new to being friends with you all, and it would take me some time to open up to you guys about the instruments. It's just... I have some memories- I don't really want to go back there."

"Oh..." San raised his brow and she bit her lip. She hadn't lied. She had some memories attached to those instruments that she would rather forget. It had been about two years since she'd played. She wanted to shut out that part of herself. She wanted to throw those instruments, but she hadn't been able to.

"Can you just... tell me which instruments you have, other than the drums?" Hongjoong asked cautiously.

Seohyun rolled her eyes. "Drums, bass, electric-"

"WOW!" Wooyoung gasped out very loud.

"-and violin. And I can play piano and guitar too. But it's been like two years since I last played so I'm probably very rough now..."

"Is one of your parent a musician or what?" Yunho asked.

"No, the drums were my mom's. The rest, I bought them when I was going through a phase."

"A phase. Wow," Yeosang snickered, earning daggers from Seohyun.

"Alright, we won't pressure you or anything. But you're free to play the piano if you want to," Yunho suggested, "and you're free to do whatever you want."

"Thanks for understanding," Seohyun muttered, smiling at him.

"But I wanted to learn the drums..." Mingi wailed.

"Who knows? Maybe I'll be the one to teach you," Seohyun said nonchalantly, making him smile his famous gummy smile.

"So anyways, what's with those mirrors?" Seohyun asked.

"Oh, that? We like to dance too," Jongho said.

"Oh my god. You guys should stop watching all those idol videos..."

"But we're good at it!" Wooyoung laughed, "And anyways, even if we don't go down that route, we love doing it anyway. It's our way of releasing stress."

"Sure," Seohyun nodded.

"Don't tell me you can dance too," Seonghwa narrowed his eyes at her.

"Oh no. I don't think I can," Seohyun admitted. Unless you could count those random 3 am sad twerks as dancing. The boys watched as she suspiciously tried to avoid their gaze, looking around.

"So now that we've told you so much about ourselves, how about you tell us something that we don't know?" Jongho suggested.

"I don't know what's there to tell," Seohyun said, her eyes unintentionally falling on San who lightly shook his head.

"Anything. Something. It's just that we'd like to know you more," Seonghwa smiled warmly at her.

"How about you just ask me and I'll answer? Because it feels like I'll never be able to start myself..."

"Or how about," Yeosang started, a devilish smile spreading across his face, "we play truth or dare?"

"Oh no..."

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Yeosang made everyone sit in a circle, and though very reluctant at first, Seohyun had to sit down too (after being dragged by Wooyoung). They discussed the rules; they could choose between truth or dare, and if a person didn't want to answer a question they should just say so instead of lying, which would earn them a penalty.

Hongjoong spun the bottle, and Seohyun prayed it would never land on her. At least not today. She wasn't feeling it. She still thought that the eight of them were well knit as they were, they didn't need her between them.

The bottle landed on Yunho, and he laughed nervously. Jongho asked truth or dare, and he replied with dare. Not fair, Seohyun thought. She wasn't sure she would ever choose dare. She had no idea what sort of dares they were gonna give.

"Alright, show us your golden retriever! You haven't done that in a long time!"

"Golden retriever?" Seohyun asked. She had heard them talk about it once or twice, but she had no idea what it was about.

"Ah, I'm getting nervous~" Yunho laughed awkwardly. She supposed it was because he was gonna do it in front of her for the first time.

"Come on, don't be shy," Wooyoung teased and he nodded, taking in a deep breath. He turned his head back, then looked forward, his eyes a bit wide as he made a paw out of his hand and flicked it, barking in the cutest way possible.

Seohyun was silent for a moment before she burst out laughing. She was howling at this point, making the rest of them laugh too.

"At least I made her laugh!" Yunho said proudly.

Seohyun wiped tears from the corner of her eyes. "That was hilarious. You really do look like a puppy, Yunho."

"Thanks?" Yunho said and laughed.

"Alright, next!" Jongho said, spinning the bottle, and to Seohyun's relief, it stopped at Hongjoong who was right next to her. He wailed.

"I choose... dare."

"You all are gonna end up choosing dare. I'll be the only one choosing truth it seems," Seohyun groaned.

"You know what to do," Yeosang said, locking eyes with Wooyoung who nodded. "Michael Jackson impression."

"NO! I CHOOSE TRUTH!"

"It's too late to turn back now!" San said.

"It's embarrassing enough to do it even in front of one of you, and now there's EIGHT of you. Alright. Here goes nothing." Hongjoong got up and straightened his clothes. He took a few steps back so everyone could see. He made the famous pose and sang Billie Jeans, attempting to mimic Michel Jackson's style. It would have been okay if everyone hadn't burst out laughing, making Seohyun laugh a little too.

"How did you even come up with this?" Seohyun asked in disbelief.

"I don't even remember now..." Hongjoong pouted. He spun the bottle, and it landed on Wooyoung.

"Truth," he smiled rather proudly, folding his arms.

"Who do you love more, Hongjoong or Seonghwa?" Yeosang asked. The rest of them laughed as Wooyoung's eyes went wide in panic.

"That's like you're asking if I like mom or dad more! Isn't this unfair?"

"Who did you like more though?" Jongho asked.

"Mom-"

"You like Seonghwa more. Alright, next!" Hongjoong concluded, leaving Wooyoung attempting to explain that it was not like that anymore and he liked both of them equally, but everyone was ignoring him. Seohyun thought it must be an inside joke too.

"Your turn," San smirked at her. Seohyun, who had been distracted and hadn't seen the bottle spin, eyed them suspiciously.

"I move my eyes off the bottle for a second and it lands on me. Are you sure you didn't cheat?"

"We did NO SUCH THING," Wooyoung huffed.

Seohyun locked eyes with each of them. "Fine. Truth."

She watched as the boys looked at each other, suggesting questions while Seohyun tried to calm the rumbling storm of nervousness in her stomach. Should she have gone with dare?

"Can we ask... anything?" Mingi looked at her and Seohyun shrugged.

"I mean, we're friends now, right? So go ahead. If I think it's too personal, I'll say so." Seohyun nodded and the boys looked at each other before finally turning to her.

"What's the real reason you don't have friends?"

Seohyun's eyes unintentionally went to San's, and the boys noticed, looking between the two of them. San shrugged, as if saying 'I tried.'

"Does... San know something?" Seonghwa asked cautiously.

"You don't have to answer, you know that right?" Yeosang added.

Seohyun sighed deeply, nodding. She looked at San again, who nodded back, pointing behind her and mouthing Jiwoo. Seohyun sighed in relief now. She might as well give it a try.

"Since you guys shared something today, I will too. But it's kind of... weird. Unbelievable. You might think I'm lying. You might think worse things. Whatever you think, do tell me, because I can prove it."

"Don't tell me you're some sort of a secret agent," Yeosang said, earning a slap from Hongjoong who shushed him.

"Alright, we'll hear you out," he said.

"I... can see ghosts. The dead."

There was a moment of silence before Jongho raised his eyebrow. "What? You mind saying that again?"

"I said I can see the dead. I can see ghosts. I can touch them. I help them move on."

While the boys exchanged looks, still in disbelief, San smiled at her and Seohyun nervously laughed. She had finally said it out loud.

"So you can... see ghosts? Like in the movies?" Mingi asked.

"Yep. They're just like us. Unless they're old."

"How do we believe you? I mean, you could be joking," Yunho asked.

"Well, San knows," Seohyun said, and everyone looked at San, who nodded, then looked back at her.

"How does he know?" Wooyoung asked.

"Long story. He got caught up in something, which led him to discover my secret and eventually led him to seeing ghosts too."

"You both are mad." Wooyoung laughed nervously.

"You want proof?" Seohyun challenged.

"Sure. I can do with that," Wooyoung folded his arms, anticipating.

"Alright folks, you're in for a surprise," Seohyun heard Jiwoo say. Jiwoo rubbed her hands and went near Seohyun, picking her hair and making it look like it was flying in the air.

The boys... shouted.

"MEDUSA!" She heard someone shout amidst them. San tried to calm them down but it was no use. They all were... freaking out, to put it simply. Half of them were gasping while the other half was laughing in disbelief.

Jiwoo dropped her hair down and they watched as she pulled the sunglasses off her shirt and the glasses magically disappeared.

"Where did the glasses go?" Wooyoung asked.

"Ji- the ghost. Her name is Jiwoo. She's a friend of mine. So when she takes something of mine, it would disappear once I'm not holding it anymore. But-" Jiwoo handed her the glasses back and they watched it appear out of thin air, "when she gives them back, here they are."

"Is this... magic or really a ghost?" Jongho asked.

"It's a ghost, believe me," San finally said.

"So you can see ghosts now too? How?"

"Let me explain," Seohyun said, and narrated the events, giving a little backstory about how she was born with this, and that she actually helped ghosts move on.

"That's kind of cool though," Yunho commented.

"Wouldn't call it cool," Seohyun muttered and Seonghwa noticed.

"It must not be easy to live like this..." he said, and she hesitantly nodded.

"Is that why you changed schools so often?" Hongjoong asked and she nodded. The boys looked at each other, trying to figure out what to say.

"Well, you won't have to worry about that again," Yeosang said, "We'll help you. You won't have to move again if something happens."

"It's not that easy, Yeosang. If something unexplainable happens, I won't be able to hide it."

"Oh don't worry about that," Mingi laughed, "unexplainable things always happen to me. We'll cover for you, trust me."

Seohyun was, for the first time, touched by how earnest they sounded. They really were a weird group of friends.

"I'm kind of jealous that San can see ghosts now too," Hongjoong sulked. "Can't we see too?"

Before Seohyun could answer, everyone else burst into complains too about how they wanted to see too. "Hey hey," Seohyun began, "first of all, it's too risky. I almost died and then San was able to see."

"WHAT!"

"You forgot to tell them that part," San muttered.

"Ah, right. So when I had to teleport San, we ended up in the other dimension, right? So I had to teleport again, and I had a massive nosebleed plus headache. I passed out too."

"Oh..."

"Even if it was easy, I would never do that to you. And I wish I could take it away from San. I wish it would fade," Seohyun said, and San looked at her, shocked. He had not expected this.

"It's not about it being cool, San," she locked eyes with him, "Being able to see ghosts mean you're attracting danger every second. Thank god you can't touch them. That means they're not able to touch you, not directly. I want you all to be safe, that's why I won't ever do that to the rest of you."

There was a moment of heavy silence, then Seonghwa broke the ice. "I understand. It's okay, you don't have to do that. We want you to be safe too, so if you're ever in some sort of danger, don't hesitate to ask for help."

"Thanks Seonghwa, I really appreciate it." Seohyun smiled.

"It's really unbelievable though. What does this ghost look like?" Wooyoung asked, eyes brimming with curiosity.

Seohyun grinned a little. "Well, she's a girl. Jiwoo. She's about my height, has long black hair with red streaks. Has a mole on her cheek. Also, she's weird-"

Jiwoo kicked Seohyun's back lightly, but she just continued. "She died in a car accident. A ghost with amnesia. Unbelievable is the right word, Wooyoung."

"Woah. She sounds familiar though..." Wooyoung looked towards Hongjoong who shook his head. Seohyun noticed but didn't comment on it.

"So you're waiting for her to remember so she can move on?" Hongjoong asked.

"Yeah. She's been sticking with me for months now, and I got used to her."

"Ah... that's understandable," Hongjoong looked at his wristwatch, "Anyways, we should go home now. it's late."

"I thought we were playing truth or dare. This turned into a horror show. How will I sleep at night!" Mingi wailed dramatically, making them laugh. Wooyoung called him 'scaredy cat' and San said, "Like you're one to say."

Seohyun smiled at Jiwoo. This had been an unexpected night, and she had never expected them to believe her and not make fun of her. She looked at the boys, bickering, and smiled at them.

She felt comfortable.

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

The next few days at school had been... annoying, to put it simply.

The boys were very excited at the new discovery about their friend they had made. They simply couldn't contain themselves- save for San, and Seohyun found her patience wearing off day by day.

It wasn't that she was ungrateful for how things had turned out. She simply hadn't expected this sort of a behaviour. Secondly, she did not know how to deal with 7 excited boys who couldn't stop asking her the most stupid of questions.

She had to admit some of the questions did make sense. Like Yeosang asking if a ghost's touch and human's touch was any different. Seohyun shook her head as she thought of how the question had shook her.

"What do you mean?" Seohyun asked.

"Do you feel different when a ghost touches you? Like, Jiwoo. Does her touch feel different than a regular human's?"

Seohyun inhaled sharply as she was reminded of the time she had spent in her music room, laughing, with him, holding his hand, touching-

"I'm sorry, was it a wrong question?" Yeosang finally asked and Seohyun realized she had been staring at him too long.

"Uh, no. I'm sorry I zoned out. I suppose it is- it is a bit different. I don't know how to explain it. It's not... warm."

Seohyun shook her head as she waved off the memory. Another memory made its way....

"This friend of yours, Jiwoo," Hongjoong asked, "is she here right now?"

"She may not find the idea of dying twice appealing," Seohyun muttered.

"What?" Hongjoong furrowed his brows in confusion.

"Now why would a ghost attend school? Surely she doesn't wish to die of boredom. AGAIN."

Hongjoong laughed. "So she's not here? Do you know her full name?"

"Ahn Jiwoo, I think," Seohyun replied. She noticed Hongjoong's eyes gleam as his mind worked.

"How old do you think she is? And can you describe how she looks like?"

"Playing detective, are you?" Seohyun raised her brow.

"Just answer. I may have something."

"Well, she looks our age, maybe a year older, she has an average face, honestly I haven't noticed much. She does have red hair."

Hongjoong nodded slowly, and Seohyun asked when he was going to let her in.

"I'll just check something. If it's true, I'll tell you."

Seohyun shook her head again. She should really be focusing on class. But her mind went back to think of the stupid questions. Yunho had asked if 'ghosts could eat' and when she had replied no, he said he was just wondering if they did eat, did they excrete as well. And if so, was the ghost realm full of-

Shit, she thought as she heard Yunho giggling. "You keep shaking your head. What's wrong?"

"Believe it or not, I was actually thinking about you," Seohyun admitted.

"Oh?" Yunho turned a bit towards her, smirking. "And what scandalous thoughts made you shake your head so much?"

"How in the world could your brain wonder if the ghost realm was full of ghost shit?" Seohyun almost shouted, but clearly she hadn't been quite as well. She earned a warning glance from her teacher and sunk in her chair as Yunho shook with silent laughter.

After the class was over, Hongjoong made his way to Seohyun.

"Is Jiwoo here?" He asked.

"Again, no. Why are you so interested in her?" Seohyun folded her arms and Hongjoong snatched Seonghwa's seat from his spot, sitting near her and placing a book on her desk.

"This is last year's yearbook. We have some photos from an event, and I want you to tell me if you spot Jiwoo."

Seohyun raised her eyebrows. Jiwoo- she could have been a student here?

She supposed it was possible. San turned too, muttering how he can recognize her too, and they flipped the pages, checking each one carefully until finally San pointed at a person and looked at Seohyun, who had paled.

"That's... Jiwoo. How did you know, Hongjoong?"

"I guessed when you told me her name. San told me how she had died of an accident and had amnesia, and I could remember hearing something about a senior here who had died in a car crash. So I put 2 and 2 together and here we are."

"But, this doesn't help much, right? We only know that she was a student here. What's this got to do with how she died, and why she is still here?"

"There were rumours circulating her death," Hongjoong sat back, "Her father was a prisoner falsely accused of some crimes, and she was trying to get justice. I talked to some of my senior friends, who had been her classmates, and they told me that she had started receiving some threats."

"And they must have given all this information to the police too?"

"Yes," Hongjoong nodded, "Now you know her identity. You can talk to her friends, go to her home, and finally help her move on."

San felt his heart sink as he looked at Seohyun. They both were thinking the same thing. Seohyun had grown very attached to her and she did not want to do this. She gulped, and nodded slowly.

"Of course. I guess I should thank you..." As the words left Seohyun's mouth, Hongjoong heard something bitter in her tone.

"Did I do something wrong?" Hongjoong asked, and Seohyun didn't reply, only shook her head no, and San shushed Hongjoong, mouthing that he'd explain later. Seohyun got up abruptly, her bag falling off from the chair. But she didn't hear it. She couldn't see anything, couldn't hear anything.

"I need some air," she muttered and rushed out of the classroom, leaving the boys staring.

"Shit," San clicked his tongue, "You did the right thing, Hongjoong, but you have to understand. Jiwoo is her friend. A sister to her. If she moves on... I should go after her."

"Are you sure I did the right thing?" Hongjoong asked him as he gave him space to move. San nodded and went after Seohyun.

"It looks like there's more to the story than she lets on," Yeosang commented. Hongjoong only looked at the door. It did seem like it.

San ran around the 1st floor where their class was, then went downstairs, hoping she was somewhere here. After checking the empty rooms, he went outside, towards the lawn, and found a figure sitting near a tree, staring in the space. He narrowed his eyes, then spotted the cat wandering around her, and his shoulders sank in relief.

He wasn't sure if he was the right person to be there. Surely Seonghwa could comfort her better. Or Yunho. But he was the only one other than Seohyun who would miss Jiwoo. He could relate to her, somewhat. So he decided to sit down beside her.

As he did so, he realized she was shaking. San looked at her worried. "Seohyun? Are you alright?"

Seohyun couldn't breathe. She was having some sort of an attack, like the ones she had about two years ago. She heard San alright, but she was afraid if she spoke, she'd cry.

"Here, have some water," San uncapped the bottle and closed her hand around it, and she managed a sip then handed it back to San.

"This is about Jiwoo, right? She's your friend, and you don't want to let go of her. I understand, Seohyun."

Seohyun sighed, fisting her hands. It wasn't just about her. It was the flood of memories that had come crashing without a warning when she thought of Jiwoo disappearing.

San put his hand on hers, caressing it, hoping it would give her some sort of comfort. He looked at her. All her walls, her strong walls she put around her were breaking down. Her lips were parted and wobbling. She looked like she might cry any second.

"You want to talk about it?" he whispered, and she sighed, nodding, taking deep breaths. She wouldn't cry. Not right now.

"You know it. I have grown attached to Jiwoo. Hell, she practically lives with me. I shouldn't have allowed this in the first place. I knew she was going to move on someday, yet I grew emotionally attached to her. I'm so weak."

"You're strong because you helped her too. She had no memories. How do you think she would have felt if not for you? She couldn't even go to her family or friends. You became that for her."

"I know," Seohyun bit her lip. "It's not just that. It's... I- I had someone. Like her. He and I... We were close. And one day, he was gone-" She bit her lip again, taking a deep breath.

"It's okay. You had no one then, right? You have us now. You have more friends than you could have ever thought of. You're so brave, Seohyun," San said, putting an arm around her shoulder, rubbing her back as he smiled. "You're one of the strongest people I know. We're both going to miss Jiwoo, but we have to help her move on. You don't want her to stay here too long now, do you?

Seohyun shook her head. San smiled again as she looked at him, making her smile a bit too. "There. We'll send her off with a celebration, okay? No more sadness. Okay?"

"Okay," Seohyun smiled. She could do that.

"Let's get back to class," San said, getting up first then helping her up. She dusted off her clothes and they walked in comfortable silence back, though San had to admit he felt weird. His heart... wasn't acting right.

Hongjoong casted a cautious glance at Seohyun as she entered, but she passed a little smile as she settled. Yeosang looked curiously at her, and she made a face.

"Is something bothering you?" Yeosang finally asked. He watched as Seohyun sighed. Sometimes it felt to him like she was carrying the weight of the whole world on her shoulders. Like she would bend under the pressure.

But she was strong too. She passed a little smile and said, "Yes. I'll talk about it later."

Yeosang just nodded, watching her curiously as she stared at her notebook. And then she sat back in her seat, staring at San.

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

"You're telling me that I was a student here? That this is a big, big 'coincidence' that you had to transfer, of all the schools in the city, right here?"

"For the hundredth time, Jiwoo, yes. I know you think I transferred here on purpose, that I somehow found about your life and didn't tell you, but believe me, this is a big, big coincidence." Seohyun replied, looking at San for help.

San shrugged, saying, "The way you're always hanging around Seohyun, when do you think she even had the time to plot this?"

Seohyun clapped her hand, smiling approvingly at San. "See? I told you he isn't that dumb. That is a great point, San." She watched as San shook his head, the faintest trace of smile on his lips.

The three of them- with the cat, of course, had this meeting in the same park that Seohyun and San had once teleported in. It had took a few days for Seohyun to finally settle with the fact that yes, Jiwoo was going to move on. But it won't be like before.

Seohyun found herself thinking of that time. The piano. His slender fingers gracefully playing music. His hands guiding hers across the keys. His contagious laugh. His deep eyes, covered by dark tendrils of hair-

"Earth to Seohyun?" Jiwoo was clapping in front of Seohyun now and she blinked. She cast a quick glance at San, who was watching her more confused than curious.

"Yeah. I'm back. What are you planning?"

"I suggested we show her the photo. She might recognize some people from the photo." San said.

"Also, I walked around the school building a few times, and it did feel familiar. I thought it was just because it was a school and schools are, you know, pretty much built the same. But I would have the strongest of headaches when I walked there," Jiwoo admitted.

"A ghost having headaches? Here's something to tell Yunho," Seohyun thought out aloud, "Though one might think that death would relieve you of all worldly headaches..."

"It's probably because of my amnesia. But yeah, San's right. I'll have a look at the photo. I'll come to school tomorrow."

----------

"Wow, that's me," Jiwoo gasped.

"Of course it's you," Seohyun muttered. Jiwoo ignored her and continued to stare at her picture. Seohyun cast a look at the boys. They were watching the book flip pages on its own, their mouths slightly open in surprise.

"She can hear us, right?" Wooyoung asked Seohyun, who wanted to make fun of Wooyoung but wasn't quite in the mood. She was more busy thinking if Jiwoo would indeed remember something.

"Come closer, Jongho. We're still in class, no one should see the book moving on its own," Mingi motioned with his hand.

"No one is looking unless you start acting weird," Yeosang commented.

"I'm having the worst headache right now. Is this normal?" Jiwoo asked.

"You're a ghost, unnie. Nothing's normal about you."

Jiwoo tsk-ed at her and then looked at Hongjoong. "He should know something about where exactly I died. If it was an accident, I might be able to remember something."

"Not sure if that would work," Seohyun's mood was very gloomy. San shook his head at her, and she sighed before asking Hongjoong if he knew something about where she had died.

Hongjoong, to Seohyun's dismay, said he'd find out in a minute. It looked like he texted one of his friends, and while they were waiting for an answer, San told the boys what was happening just so they would stop asking after each second.

Seohyun caught Hongjoong glancing at her, as if trying to convey a message. Seohyun understood and casually checked her phone, indeed finding a text from Hongjoong, which read:

There's a possibility that her death might not have been an accident

Seohyun frowned. Was she murdered? Or did she commit suicide? She felt as if it would hurt Jiwoo no matter the answer.

What do you mean?

Hongjoong replied:

I'll tell you later.

With that, Hongjoong told Seohyun out loud that his friend would have to ask around for the address, and that settled it. Jiwoo announced that she was gonna roam around the school again, and maybe that would make her remember something too. She asked San to remind Hongjoong to find out her home address too. That would certainly spark a bulb, if nothing else.

As soon as Jiwoo walked out of their classroom, Hongjoong brought everyone closer. "My friend gave me the address. It's near a restaurant here."

"Why didn't you tell Jiwoo?" San asked.

"When Jiwoo passed away, her friends were told that it was an accident. But according to my sources, they say she was out with some of her friends. They had somehow gotten in an argument, causing her to flee and accidentally crash with a car."

"So it is an accident, right?" Seonghwa asked.

"That's the thing. Some people say that one of them pushed her in front of the traffic, and that they are all covering it up. We have got to find out what happened. Before we tell Jiwoo."

Seohyun pursed her lips. This is not how she thought it would have turned out. Sure, most of the ghosts she dealt with had usually been murdered. But that didn't make hearing any of this easier.

"Alright, we will find out. We need to distract Jiwoo. San, you'll help me out, right?"

"Of course," San said, sitting straighter. Seohyun laid out their plan; they were gonna divide into two. San, Wooyoung, Yeosang and Jongho would lead Jiwoo to a false address, somewhere far from where the rest of them were going to go and actually investigate what really happened. If she had died in a car crash, however that happened, the people around would remember and would be able to recall the incident.

After school, they told Jiwoo that she would go with San to check if that was the right place, since Hongjoong's source could be 'unreliable'. Meanwhile the rest of them were going to find out her home address by asking around. Jiwoo didn't suspect them thankfully, and gladly went along with them.

"I have the home address too," Hongjoong said, "It's on the way to the restaurant. We should pass by there too."

"Yeah," Seohyun muttered. "Do you think I should talk to her family too?"

"I think you should, but after we visit the restaurant. That would certainly give us more information. because all you have now is nothing about the real Jiwoo."

"Point." Seohyun thought it was kind of ironic. She knew nothing about how Jiwoo would have been when alive. The thought of it made her heart twist with pain.

As they walked to the site, Seohyun was so lost in thought that she didn't see the rest of them exchange nervous glances. They all realized that Jiwoo had been her only friend for a good while. And they could definitely see how difficult it was for Seohyun to let her go.

"Can I ask you something?" Seonghwa finally said.

"Whenever someone asks me if they can ask me something, it's usually going to be something about my personal life. Go ahead, shoot."

Seonghwa shook his head. "How many ghosts friends did you have to let go of?"

Seohyun stopped in her tracks. It took her a second before she started walking again. "That is a very good question, Seonghwa."

Mingi and Yunho exchanged looks. They knew she always made remarks like these when trying to avoid something. "Jiwoo has been your friend for a few months. It must be hard for you."

"It is, actually," Seohyun admitted. "And most of my friends, sadly, have been ghosts. They're a better company. I sharpen my dark humor on them. I make a lot of dead jokes, if you haven't noticed that already."

"I did," Mingi raised his hand, smiling sheepishly. "Knowing you can actually see ghosts makes them more funnier."

"I know," Seohyun smiled back.

They finally reached the restaurant. It was a traditional one, with tables set outside as well as inside. Potted plants made for most of the décor, a stark contrast to the mauve and white theme, and the scent of spices filled the air.

Seohyun's eyes traced what could have been a possible path; Jiwoo walking out of the door, a car speeding forward-

"How do you suppose we're gonna find some information? We can't just go and ask them to show us the CCTV footage or something," Yunho said, looking pointedly at the camera.

"We won't have to," Hongjoong said, "We just have to make up a good story. Come on, we're eating something from here."

"Really, Hongjoong? Do you think we have the time?" Seohyun asked.

"Trust me. Come on," Hongjoong said, not waiting for them and walking inside. They seated themselves in the corner, and a waiter came to take their order. After ordering some barbeque, Hongjoong told them that he was going to ask for water while they would be in the middle of eating, and they would start talking about the incident. When the waiter comes, he would hear them talk about it, and provide his comments on the topic without asking.

"If I was the waiter, I'd kick you out," Seohyun said, sitting back and folding her arms, making the rest of them snicker.

"This works every time," Hongjoong said, his eyes glinting with challenge, as he mirrored Seohyun's pose.

"And what if he doesn't talk?" Seohyun asked.

"In that case, I have a backup plan. I don't come unprepared." Hongjoong said, and Seohyun rolled her eyes, looking at Yunho who was sitting beside her.

"Is he always this confident about himself?" She asked.

"When he's sure, yes," Yunho nodded.

"Don't tell me he's a secret investigator or detective or something," Seohyun muttered.

"I could make some similar assumptions about you," Hongjoong muttered back.

"Shut up, blueberry."

"You should, you old-"

"Just because I have grey hair doesn't mean I'm old-"

"Stop it, you both," Seonghwa laughed. Hongjoong pouted. "But do you dye your hair?"

"Yeah. Some years ago I went blonde. Now I prefer the more... dead tones, if you will," Seohyun said, and Mingi grinned. "How's the drum learning going, Mingi?"

"Ah," Mingi sighed, "I still make do with boxes and plates. I think I could do a good freestyle if I had an actual drum set."

"I used to air drum all the time. You should drum along to some songs you like. Really helps."

"I'll try that," he smiled.

"When do you think you're showing us your music room?" Hongjoong asked.

"Not anytime soon," Seohyun said. Before Hongjoong could ask something, they saw the waiter come with their food. Hongjoong muttered ''play along' and started speaking.

"I've been wanting to try this place for a while now. But I heard there was some sort of accident here, so I couldn't come." Hongjoong widened his eyes in signal and Yunho began, "Oh I've tried, and I'll tell you, it's really good."

The waiter set their food, and Seohyun watched Hongjoong and Yunho go on about the restaurant, slightly amused. As soon as the waiter went, Hongjoong frowned at them.

"The three of you could have said something."

"This seemed more natural," Seohyun said. "Two guys raving about food. Nothing suspicious about that."

After a few bites of the amazingly juicy barbeque beef, Mingi asked for water. Hongjoong cleared his throat.

"I heard a girl died somewhere around here. They're saying it could be murder. People these days!"

"I'll tell you, sir," the waiter, a middle aged man with wrinkles around his eyes began, surprising Seohyun, "it was an accident. A bunch of students. The usual crowd. Had an argument and the girl went out in a rush- nobody followed. A few seconds later, we heard a horrible sound and screams. The people out there witnessed it."

"But why would people say she was pushed?" Seonghwa asked.

"People make all sorts of stories, girl," the man said, shaking his head in disapproval. "I was inside. I know none of the friends went after her. The crowd outside was too absorbed with their food. Nobody saw anything until the crash happened."

"Ah.. I see. So I guess since this was an accident, the matter cleared up quickly? With the police and all?"

"Of course," the man said, "they saw the footage. Nobody pushed her. A pity that people had to spread rumors like that. Didn't help us. Nobody came here for days."

"I'm sorry that happened," Yunho said, and Seohyun felt that he actually meant it. "I hope more people are coming here now, for the food."

"Oh we're getting back now. Enjoy," the man smiled at them and went away. They all looked at each other.

"So it's an accident. But this doesn't make sense," Seohyun said, "if she died because of her own mistake, why is she still hanging around?"

"Unfinished business?" Mingi suggested.

"Usually happens when someone is killed, but yeah. She must have made it to the hospital and lost her memories during treatment. That must mean she's holding a grudge, or actually has something so important to do that despite her memories being lost, somehow she stuck to this world."

"That makes sense," Yunho said.

They finished the food lost in thoughts, and decided that is that was the case, it was wiser to not talk to her family. She could be holding a grudge against them too.

Though they now knew how Jiwoo had died, and they were one step closer to sorting this all out, Seohyun felt dread creeping upon her.

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

"I can't believe you sent me to the wrong address!" Jiwoo exclaimed.

"It wasn't on purpose! Hongjoong's friend confused you with someone else. It seems like he deals with this kind of stuff often," Seohyun was nodding her head along, as if that could convince Jiwoo. "And anyway, at least it wasn't all a waste. We're going to the place where you died, are you sure you're ready?"

"Born ready," Jiwoo said, pumping her fist in the air.

"Born ready but-"

"Don't, Seohyun, just don't" San cut her off, shaking his head. Jiwoo laughed. Seohyun pouted but stopped.

The three of them were going to the place where Jiwoo had her accident. It was only yesterday that Seohyun had come with Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho and Mingi, and had falsely led Jiwoo to someplace else with the rest of the boys. Now, upon constant insistence of Jiwoo, the two of them decided they'd better take her.

It wasn't because Jiwoo threatened to summon a bunch of revengeful ghosts. Nope. It certainly hadn't been that.

"We're close now," San said, pointing ahead, "It's right across the road. You should start looking on your own now. Without distractions."

"Don't look at me, San," Seohyun muttered.

"You're right. You both can... wait for me here. I'll see if it rocks a memory," Jiwoo said, and went ahead, leaving the two of them watching her go.

"Do you think we should be there for her?" Seohyun finally asked, "The memories might be painful."

"I think she should just walk down memory lane. We'd only distract her. Going on her own is sure to bring back some memories."

"I still wonder what made her stay," Seohyun said, and San looked at her. It was one of those moments when she was not wearing a filter. San felt like he was intruding- it was rare to see her so... present. There.

"Have you dealt with many murder cases? Or suicide ones?" San finally asked.

"You think it's one of the two?" She asked.

"I think it could be something simple. I know if I died today, the only reason I'd hang here would be to say a final goodbye. That is, if I die suddenly."

"Believe it or not, those are the hardest," Seohyun turned towards San, "With other cases, it's usually finding justice, or personal satisfaction. But goodbyes are difficult. I wouldn't want that for anyone. It's harder for those who are living."

San narrowed his eyes at her for the briefest moment. It felt like sometimes she meant more with what she spoke. Like there was a backstory he did not know.

"It looks like you've had some experience with that," San asked cautiously. Seohyun bit her lip and he saw the slightest of tremble in her hand before she closed them in a fist. She was suddenly reminded of San's hand on hers comforting her.

"You're right, actually," Seohyun finally said, surprising San, "I'll tell you. I need to move on too."

"You don't have to," San assured, but she shook her head.

"His name was Joon Hyuk. It was two years ago. He and I used to go to the same music academy. We were only friends then, not close, until he passed away suddenly. He had a heart problem."

"I'm sorry to hear that," San said. He truly was. He couldn't imagine how he'd cope if one of his friends met the same fate.

"I was shook, but that wasn't the end of the story. He was hanging on because he wanted to say goodbye to his family. It took him a few days, and I helped him come to terms with his death. That's when we grew close. I used to be home alone, and we'd just sit in the music room and talk all night. He told me all about his life. I told him about mine. He taught me to play the piano." Seohyun shivered a bit but continued. "He said his goodbye, but he still didn't move on."

"Does that usually happen?" San asked.

"No. It was because he found something to stay for. Me."

The breeze made San shiver too as it settled in. His heart twisted with emotions he couldn't recognize. He wanted to comfort Seohyun somehow, but he stood frozen.

"Ironic, isn't it? He found something to live for when he had already died." Seohyun's lips quivered. She stared at the light bulb near her, hoping it would force back her incoming tears. This wasn't the time to cry. She looked at San and smiled, "I knew it was wrong. But I was so alone. I craved friendship. I craved love. And I got it for a while. It was short. He started to change. You remember the old man?"

San nodded. The man because of whom he could now see ghosts too.

"It's like the process sped up. He started to become bitter. It would come and go. When he was sane, I finally told him to move on before he became- that, before I had to force myself to send him away. And he did. Without a goodbye this time. I guess that was the only way he could manage it."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Seohyun. I-"

San wanted to say so much but they heard a scream which was unmistakably Jiwoo's, and with a look at each other, they rushed to the source of the sound. They found Jiwoo clutching at her head, down on the ground

Seohyun rushed to her, sitting down and hugging her, muttering comforting stuff that San couldn't make out. He just stood and provided cover, hoping no one would notice Seohyun hugging the air.

It took a few seconds for Jiwoo to calm down, and when she did, she sighed loudly, looking at the sun.

"It's coming back," she announced. "I remember how I died. My own fault. How dumb is that?" She laughed.

"Glad to see you're back in your spirits," San scoffed.

"You, boy, have been making unintentional puns," Jiwoo scoffed back, making Seohyun grin.

"So how much do you remember?"

"It's coming back. You guys should go your own way. I'll just wait for it to come back. I think I know where to go too. I remember my home. I think- I think I know why I'm here too."

Seohyun and San shared a look. "You wanna tell us?"

"I gotta check something first," Jiwoo said, getting up and helping Seohyun up too. "Off you go."

"Weirdo," Seohyun muttered and Jiwoo just waved at her before she started walking. Seohyun was resting her hands on her hips, tapping her jeans, watching her go with a frown.

"IF YOU MOVE ON WITHOUT SAYING GOODBYE I'LL HUNT YOU EVEN IN THE AFTERLIFE OR WHEREVER IS IT THAT YOU GHOSTS GO!" Seohyun shouted at Jiwoo, startling San and the couple walking past.

"YOU BETTER HOLD A FREAKING FAREWELL PARTY THEN!" Jiwoo shouted back. Before Seohyun could retort, San took her by the arm and dragged her in the opposite direction, laughing and telling her she should stop before the whole neighbourhood comes out.

"I'll walk you home," San said. He wasn't sure if now was the time to leave Seohyun alone.

"If you insist," Seohyun said, and they walked in silence. San wanted to say something about how she had been wise to send Joon Hyuk off, something to comfort her, but he couldn't find the words. He was sure Seohyun would be too busy thinking about Jiwoo. He decided he'd walk in silence and let her sort her thoughts.

When they finally reached her home, Seohyun looked at San. "You wanna stop for some coffee? Maybe a snack?"

"Oh no, don't bother," San waved her off.

"I have chocolate chip cookies," Seohyun wiggled her eyebrows.

"That's not fair. Lead the way," he said, and Seohyun smiled in victory, letting him in.

Though the house looked plain from the outside, it wasn't such inside. It was well decorated, the brown and white reflecting the walls and the floor, and had an overall homey feel. Plus, it was quite spacious. No wonder she had a music room here.

San sat on the table in the kitchen, looking around while Seohyun made two cups of coffee. The refrigerator had fruit magnets with various lists sticking. Grocery, things to do. Doodles. San smiled. It really did look like Seohyun lived here. His eyes fell on her figure as she rocked back and forth, mixing the coffee. Her hair created quite a contrast with her navy blue shirt. The soft grey hair looked fluffy.

Seohyun turned around, catching San staring at her, and he shifted in his seat as Seohyun set the two cups and the cookies. San took one and bit into it.

"Oomph, that's delicious."

"Thank you. I made them."

"No way!" San was genuinely surprised. "I didn't know you liked baking."

"I like making food," Seohyun admitted, sipping the coffee.

"That sounds so mundane now," San laughed.

"What do you think I did at home? Made talismans?" Seohyun scoffed and San almost choked on his coffee.

"You surprise me everyday, Seohyun. We must look quite boring to you," San said.

"Well," Seohyun munched on the cookie, "You aren't boring. None of you are, actually. Why don't you tell me something I don't know about you then?"

"Well," San imitated Seohyun now, "I collect plushies. And I know taekwondo."

"That's... interesting. Taekwondo and plushies. Wow," Seohyun laughed. "Poor Shiber, I guess."

"HEY!" San frowned. "Your turn."

"I didn't realize we were taking turns?" Seohyun raised her brow but thought about it. "My favourite colour is blue."

"Mine's purple," San said. "I hate vegetables."

"Hard not to notice," Seohyun commented, biting into the cookie and thinking. "I want to be a musician."

"Cool. You can compose for us," San smiled and Seohyun smiled back mockingly.

A thought struck her. "Wanna see the music room?"

San raised his brows. "Can I?"

"If you want to?" Seohyun shrugged. "It's okay. That room needs air anyway."

"Alright then," San finished his coffee. Seohyun got up, her heart thumping. She was right. It was about time she opened that room for someone else. About time she let go too.

"Here we are," she said and fished out keys from her pocket (San thought she must carry them everywhere) and opened the room, turning on the light

It was gorgeous, San thought. A piano in the corner, a drum set in the other, couches as they entered, three different guitars hanging by the wall, a violin case resting on the table. The dim white lights made everything seem a bit eerie, but it smelled like roses, and indeed San noticed a scented candle on the table. It felt like a room full of memories.

"I do come in every now and then, but I don't really play anymore." Seohyun looked around.

"Can I see them?" San asked, and Seohyun nodded.

Seohyun watched as San examined the guitars then walked to the piano, running his fingers on the keys and making some sounds, then off to the drum set.

"I'd pay to see you play," he grinned.

"Oh you won't have to. I'll do that for free one day," Seohyun smiled.

"So you don't play anything anymore?"

"Just the violin sometimes. Or drums when I'm angry."

"Can I hear the violin?" San asked and Seohyun looked at him.

"Pretty please?" He made puppy eyes and Seohyun scoffed. "Now how do I reject that?"

Seohyun opened the violin case, saying something about how it's gonna be short. While she tested the strings and the bow, San sat on the piano stool nearby. Seohyun flipped her hair back and inhaled.

And then she played a tune so melodic, a tune so haunting that San wasn't sure if seconds had passed or minutes. He only saw her face, etched with the most emotions he'd seen on a single person. It was as if she was telling him a secret, baring her soul to him, and he just couldn't decipher it.

When she did stop, San felt short of breath. He just stared at her in awe and she came closer, already having put the violin back. "How was it?"

"That was... breathtakingly beautiful. You were amazing," San said and immediately felt like he should have said something more.

But she seemed to understand. "Thank you," she said. She was leaning against the piano. San got up and came closer.

"Thank you, Seohyun," he said, touching the tendrils of hair that fell on her shoulder, "For everything."

"I- I've done nothing," she almost whispered. San locked eyes with her, still playing with her hair, now his thumb caressing the soft skin of her cheek.

Seohyun stared back at the dark orbs, his gaze so sharp that a part of her wanted to run away but the other part wanted to never look away. San blinked once, then slowly, painfully slowly brought his face closer and kissed her cheek lightly, leaving her out of breath.

Thank you for playing for me," San said, "I'll never forget it."

And then he drew back, and Seohyun came out of the trance.

"If you sugar coat it so much I'll never bring you here again," Seohyun was smiling.

"Nah. Now I'll wait for the day you're angry," San winked, pointing at the drums. "I should give pointers to Mingi."

"HEY!"

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mediocre-writerr · 4 years ago

Text

betty [quinn fabray]

quinn fabray x fem reader

summary: the last part of my quinn fabray mini series! this takes place in the pov of quinn and her side of the story! enjoy : )

*not my gif*

“Quinny?” my mom poked her head through the door, “You got to get ready for school.” she says softly.

I groaned as I shoved my head into a pillow. I didn’t want to go to school today or well ever for that matter.

And you’re probably thinking: Quinn what teenager actually wants to go to school?

i did...once. When I didn’t fuck up the best thing that ever happened to me. Meeting her at her locker, holding her hand down the hall, singing songs to her in glee club. All of it. But that’s all faded away like a moment in time.

“Not today.” I mumble.

“Quinn, honey, I let you miss so much school these past couple months. I need you to go just this once.” she whispers before closing the door.

I let out another groan as I pulled the covers off my body. Stumbling my way into the bathroom. As I look in the mirror the pit that was in my stomach continued growing.

I hated how I looked. I hated how I felt. I fucked up. It was all on me.

And it all started at junior prom.

“Love, dance with me!” Y/N yelled over the loud music that was playing, trying to pull me out of my seat at the table I was sitting at.

I smiled widely at her enthusiasm before raising my eyebrows at her. She knows I hate the crowds. Sure, I was popular and wanted the attention.

But there’s a difference between walking down the hall like a bad ass than being trapped in a crowd of thousands, feeling like you’re suffocating and sweating.

“This is my favorite song.” she pouted when I gave her the look.

I pulled the hand that she had in her hand closer to me. Giving it a sweet kiss, “Next dance, I promise.”

She pouts a little before running back off to the dance floor. I sat there drinking the spiked punch, letting the alcohol burn all the way down my throat and into my stomach. Leaving a warm sensation behind.

I watched Y/N’s every move. She wasn’t very far away from where I was planted. Jumping up and down, doing crazy dance moves, with Sam.

I love Sam with every bone in my body, but I was always jealous of the blonde boy. He was a nice guy, funny, good looking and super close to Y/N.

“Looks like your girlfriend is having more fun with Sam, than she is with you.” Santana says, leaning against the chair I was sitting on.

“I don’t like the crowds. She knows that. She’s just trying to enjoy her prom.” I mumble, trying to ignore her snide remarks.

Santana hums in response before taking a sip of her own punch, “Sure, let’s keep telling yourself that. And I’ll be the one saying ‘I told you so’ when she leaves you for him.”

That was it. That’s what started my insecurities.

Was I good enough for Y/N? Or will she find her own non-complicated love with Sam or Finn? Was Santana right?

After procrastinating for God knows how long, I finally made it to school.

“Quinn!” Mercedes yelled getting my attention away from locker.

I tried forcing on my best smile, “Hey what’s up?”

“You’re coming to Y/N’s party tonight right? Everyone’s gonna be there! I don’t want you to miss it.” Mercedes said.

I shook my head looking down at my shoes, “No. I wasn’t planning on going. I don’t think she would want me there anyway.” I mumble.

Mercedes looked at me sympathetically, “Well I want you to come. Dig yourself out of the depressing hole you’re in and come hang out with people who care about you. Think about it, okay?”

I nod before she goes running off to talk to Kurt. I open my locker and stare at the cardigan hanging off of one of the hooks. My eyes dart around my locker to see the pictures of the two of us hanging on the walls.

I miss her.

The bell rings and I weave my way through the somewhat crowded walls and into my anatomy class for homeroom. I take my seat next to Jacob Ben Israel and sigh softly.

“Alright class take your seats!” Mr. Barnson yells as he walks in the door, taking his bag off.

I look at the empty stool next to me. Y/N wasn’t in here today. She must’ve stayed home. I wish I could’ve, especially after what happened yesterday.

“Jacob, you’re going to be Ms. Fabray’s new lab partner.” he says and I watch as Jacob’s eyes lighten up.

The afro-hair kid coming to sit next to me, “Can I smell your hair?” he asks, disturbingly.

I shutter in disgust and raise my hand, “Yes Ms. Fabray?”

“What happened to Y/N?” I ask.

“Ah, Ms. Y/L/N switched homerooms this morning.” he says nonchalantly while looking back at his list for attendance.

Oh.

The day went on and on, dragging like a bad movie that wouldn’t end. Until finally it did.

I walked to school today. I’ve been walking to school the past couple months. It was a nice break to just clear my head and think about everything. Sometimes it hurt to do, but it was much needed.

I didn’t want to go straight home today. I didn’t want to go home and just lock myself in my room, curling up into a ball of nothingness. So I walked around more.

“Quinn? Do you need a ride?” I hear a voice ask.

I turn towards the voice to see Mike and Tina in his car, “No thanks. I think I’m just gonna walk.”

“Okay. Well we’ll see you tonight, right? We all miss hanging out with you.” he suggests.

“I don’t know.” I say looking anywhere, but them.

“You should.” Tina says before the light turns green and they drive off with a wave.

I continued walking until I found myself at the mall need Breadstix. I hate the mall.

I used to love going there with Santana and Brittany back during sophomore year of high school. When I was dating Finn and head Cheerio, but now it just reminds me of everything that went wrong.

When my insecurity was at its greatest peak.

“Hello beautiful!” I say as I answer Y/N’s phone call, walking through the mall.

“Hi love! I miss you so much.” she whispers and I smile softly.

I hear rustling coming from her side of the phone, another girl’s voice, “I miss you more.” I say softly, “Who are you with?”

“Oh I’m with my friend Lizzie. She’s also a intern here and we’re just having dinner! She’s really cool!” Y/N said excitedly.

The rest of the conversation was about her internship and the amazing stuff she was learning and the new people she was meeting. How much she was having.

I should have been happy for her, but all I could think about what was, how much her life is better without me? What a fun life she could have without me?

I left the mall that I was once walking in and nothing seemed good enough to buy. I was getting closer to my house as I was walking on the broken cobblestone. Just thinking about her.

How much I just want her to come back home and into my arms. How much I want her to let me know that I’m the only one she wants and that I am good enough for her.

Someone’s car came by slowing down next to me as they rolled their window down, pulling me out of my thoughts. Santana was sitting in the driver’s seat with her sunglasses on. Her usual high pony was down which revealed her curly brunette hair.

She looked like a figment of my worst intentions. Her lips stained with a dark red lipstick and the way she was eyeing me. It just sent shivers down my spine.

“Quinn, get in, let’s drive.”

And those four words was all it took. Well four words and a human full of loneliness.

A car honks shaking me from that terrible terrible memory. Leaving me with a mind and head full of thoughts.

Should I go to the party tonight? Will she want me there? Will I regret not going?

There’s two ways me going would play out.

1.) I would get there and she would open the door and slam it on my face. Then she would open it again just to tell me to go fuck myself.

I shutter at the thought of the most likely scenario. The sun was setting turning the sky into a cotton candy looking sky. What a beautiful sky for a stressful decision.

Santana laid next to me on the grassy field of my backyard. It was a cotton candy color as the orange hue blended with the dreamy blue.

I spent the week driving around with Santana. We would go exploring the small town in Lima or just drive around singing to random songs.

We laid there in silence just staring up at the sky. She took my hand in hers intertwining them together. And in that moment I didn’t care. I wanted to feel something, anything.

Anything besides this pit of loneliness.

She turned her head towards mine. And in a beat her lips were on mine. It was soft at first yet passionate. Then the next thing I knew, clothes were flying off, and hands were roaming.

2.) Y/N opens the door and sees me standing there. I apologize for everything, she leads me to our spot in the backyard. And kiss me in front of everyone.

Yeah like that would ever fucking happen.

I didn’t know what I was expecting when Y/N came back from Pennsylvania. After the many nights spent with Santana, I dropped her. Or well ghosted her I should say.

I didn’t answer her calls or her texts. I knew what I did was wrong and I decided to just end it before things could get any worse.

Was it fucked up?

Yes, but I did what I had to try and salvage what I had left in our relationship.

I thought I could get away with it too. Until the guilt started eating me alive. The pit in my stomach wasn’t loneliness, it was guilt.

And then Santana told Brittany. Brittany told Artie. Artie told Tina. Tina told Mike. Mike told Puck. Puck told Mercedes. Mercedes told Kurt. Kurt told Blaine. Blaine told Rachel. Rachel told Finn. Finn told Sam. Then finally, Rachel told Y/N since no one else had the heart to.

Y/N slammed my locker shut causing me to flinch back, “Tell me she’s lying.” she whispers, her voice breaking.

“Who’s lying love? What happened?” I say attempting to take her in my arms, but she took a step back.

“Tell me that you didn’t hook up with Santana while I was gone. And that it’s some weird vendetta against you.” she whispers staring at me.

I couldn’t lie to her anymore. It was killing me. I didn’t want to lie anymore. I just needed to tell her.

I just stared at her desperately trying to find an explanation. Desperately trying to apologize and explain everything to her, but no words came out.

“Y/N-”

“You did didn’t you?” Y/N asked barely in a whisper.

I nodded sadly and a sob escaped her lips.

“Y/N please let me-” I try to say and she shakes her head.

“No. We’re done Quinn!” she yells in between sobs running off.

I looked up and found myself in front of Y/N’s house.

I wasn’t trying to go here. I guess my feet just carried me here. The party was in full swing and through her window I could see her just sitting there, nursing a cup.

Her favorite song was playing and she wasn’t dancing. She was just sitting there, trying to smile, but was struggling too.

It hurt me, knowing that I’m the reason for her pain.

I hesitantly knocked on the door and the door flung open. Y/N was standing there and she was shocked, but her eyes softened. But it didn’t matter anymore because she covered it up with a harder shell.

She came out and stepped onto the porch, closing the door behind her.

“Happy birthday.” I whisper.

She mumbles, “Thanks.”

“Can we talk please?” I ask.

She was thinking about it. I could tell. Her eyes were furrowed and she was biting her lip. She looked in deep thought before nodding and leading me to the backyard garden.

There was a bench swing hanging from the trees. And we took a seat on there together.

This is the spot. Our spot.

We had our first kiss here. I asked her to be my girlfriend here. Everything happened right here.

“Y/N I’m sorry. And before you say anything I know. I know sorry means nothing and it has no excuse for what I did. But I am so deeply sorry. I don’t know much and I don’t have much to say because I wasn’t expecting to come tonight But I do know that I miss you and you were the best thing that has ever happened to me.” I whisper letting all of the tears spill.

She lets out a shaky sigh, “I know. I forgive you.”

I smile softly and I try to lean in to kiss her, but she immediately pulls back. Leaving me embarrassed and heartbroken.

“Just because I forgive you doesn’t mean that I want to get back together. I know you know that what you did was wrong. And I trust you when you say that it wasn’t anything special. But it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. I love you Quinn Fabray, but I just can’t do this right now.” she whispers back.

She begins to wipe away the tears from my cheeks. I took in a deep breath before embracing the feeling of her touch. Y/N closes her eyes and rests her forehead on top of mine.

I cup her cheeks into my hands. My thumb trying to memorize all of the crevasse, cheek bones, every little feature.

“I will always love you and maybe we’ll be together one day. Just not today.” she whispers pulling away and kissing my cheek softly, “Goodbye Quinn.”

#quinn fabray #quinn fabray imagine #quinn fabray imagines #quinn fabray x reader #quinn fabray x fem reader

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softykooky · 5 years ago

Text

Sanctuary : One

A/N: This is my first ever fic! I’m a new writer and I’m just starting so please go easy on me :) Also, I edited this way too quickly so forgive me if there are any grammar mistakes. Please let me know what you think and if you would like more parts! Request anything you like!

Summary: Seoul's drug ring is sovereign of a small group fo 7 men, who have just gotten their hands on the ambassador's daughter.

Warnings: physical/emotional abuse, guns, violence, kidnapping...

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There was always something so surreal and soft about a cup of black coffee in a cafe that you have never been to, sitting across from a ghost in a booth that you have never sat in. You cradled a cup of lukewarm coffee between the palm of your hands, periodically sighing into the cold air of the room. The barista had given you a few side glances. A normal behavior though, you’ve been sitting here for a good couple hours now. There was nowhere else to go, and the cafe would give you a couple hours to think of a place to sleep for the night before inevitably walking around a park and finding a nice cozy bench. You looked outside the window.

Rain. At least it wasn’t hail. Better to go to bed drenched than in pain.

From the corner of your eye, you could see the barista approaching you, apprehensively and like she was there out of obligation.

“Is there anything you need at all? You want me to freshen up that coffee for you?” Her name tag read Kim.

Yes, there are a lot of things I need. No, you can’t help me with any of them.

“No, that’s alright. I’m so sorry, am I taking too long here?”, you began to pack up your bag full of nothing and made way to move out of the booth.

“No, no, I was just checking up. Take as much time as you need.” She left you alone after, walking away with no intent to wait for your answer. People always do that. You looked outside the window again, and the rain had worsened, now slamming against the glass so intensely you felt it vibrating against the table. It was so loud. Almost loud enough so that you couldn’t hear when gunshots erupted through the door of the cafe.

No. No. Not more of this.

Out of instinct and past reflex, you ducked down under the booth table, making yourself as small as you could. You didn’t dare to let out another breath. The other patrons of the cafe had scattered immediately, some making it out the door in a sonic sprint. Your eyes shot to the barista, who was standing there shaking uncontrollably with a strawberry smoothie nestled in her hands, eyes wide staring at the group of men who had just open fired.

“Ah boys. I was wondering when you would arrive. It’s rude to leave your guests waiting, you know.” The voice came from a man sitting in the corner of the room, still sipping on a cappuccino with his face tucked under a hat.

“Cut the shit, Mino. What happened to our shipment at the port in Gwangju?” His voice was sharp. Seething and filled with an intense hatred that could be heard from the tone alone. You would hate to be Mino right now. You looked around again, and the cafe had already been cleared out. The barista was nowhere in sight. What luck.

“I know what happened.” A different voice from the same group of men.

“You stopped it before it got on the boat. Tipped off Hyun’s crew that our goods were in transit and you, spineless as you are, gave up our protection and loyalty for a couple million that they offered you.” The man’s words seemed to silence the room. You held your breath, only watching the scene unfold before you.

The man named Mino coughed into his cup. He set it down, then idiotically tried to sprint out of the cafe and away from the grasps of a group of heavily armed men. Even you wanted to laugh. They cornered him, backs turned to where your booth was. This was your chance. You can run and they’ll never know you were here. The barista popped into your mind again. You couldn’t leave her alone.

You crawled out of your hiding space under the booth, making your way to the counter and trying to ignore the sound of Mino being beaten to a pulp that made a familiar anxiety bubble in your chest. You had to focus and not blow into a panic attack. Your advance was almost completely soundless, and the mystery men were far too preoccupied to notice you behind them. You peeked through to the counter, finding a shivering barista who still clutched a strawberry milkshake like her life depended on it. Her eyes held your gaze, tears streaming down her cheek. You mouthed for her to follow you as you turned around once again, preparing for the treacherous trek to the door.

“Mino, we could have been such good allies. Is that your price of betrayal? A million and a half?” A punch to the stomach. Uppercut to the jaw. “I would like to think we are more expensive than that, don’t you boys?” You winced, spiritually sending condolences to Mino. Sounds like he messed up real bad.

You held onto the barista’s hands behind you, slowly standing up and walking gingerly out the door with her in tow.

Okay Y/N you’re halfway there. Just a little bit more. Quietly, you’ve done this before.

The men turned around.

Oh fuck.

The only thing you could think of was flinging the barista in front of you and running full speed to the door, now busted in its frame with pieces of shattered glass on the ground. “Shit. Run, Kim! Go!” You yelled in your haste, still pushing her in front of you. If it hadn’t been for the hand that had suddenly encased itself around your upper arm, you would have made it too. You were pulled back into a hard chest, sighing in relief as Kim sprinted out to the other end of the street, not looking back once. Watching her, you wished you could have done the same for your sister. Now you were going to die. But it was okay because you saved someone from the same fate,

“What the fuck is wrong with you? The gunshots didn’t scare you away?” You turned to his face. If this were a normal day, you would’ve been in awe at how handsome this stranger was. Had it not been for his increasingly tight grip on your hand and a gun in the other. You couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even breathe. You thought you had already escaped this part of your life.

“What? Are you mute?” He squeezed your arm more, eyebrows furrowing as steam seemed to shoot out of his ears. You whimpered in pain, which seemed to soften his demeanor and loosen his grip.

“I-I’m sorry. I couldn’t get out in time.” Tears had involuntarily made their way down your cheeks. He sighed, turning his gaze to the other men in the room who had been tensely watching. Wow. Leave it to you to get yourself tangled in a shootout with the most beautiful criminals you had ever seen in your life.

“Whatever. Mino’s taken care of. Just take her with, she’s already heard everything. No loose ends.” The man in the middle said nonchalantly. Your face paled.

“No. No you can’t. Please, I promise I won’t say a thing. I’ll pretend it never happened.” Now it was your turn to hold onto the man, shaking in his grasp as you pleaded. You couldn’t go back to this violence. He stared at you in disinterest.

“Please, don’t take me.” You had begun to cry more intensely, feeling an impending doom over your head. It never matters what you want. What you need. The world just kept going on. The men exchanged knowing glances, restraining and dragging you to the black SUV that had been parked outside. You didn’t fight then. It was useless. This life will always drag you back.

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

When you woke up from a sleep of exhaustion, you were still in the car. Both your hands and legs had been tied with scratchy rope that dug into your bleeding skin. You looked around at the men, who were all occupied with something and chatting with each other as if they hadn’t just shot up a cafe and beaten a man to an inch of his life. You coughed to clear your throat, but were too scared to say anything else. A man with wavy black hair looked your way, almost sneering at your presence.

“Princess is awake.” He spit out the words, making you confused. Were you so terrible even from such a short encounter? You looked down at your hands instead, staying silent. The car drove for god knows how long before it stopped in front of a house that you assumed costs more than your life. Before you could gawk anymore, the same man gripped onto your bruised forearm and dragged you out of the car. You bit your tongue at the pain, cooperating with everything.

They seemed to fling you around like you were a ragdoll. Next thing you knew, you were being shoved down ungracefully on a chair in a white room, staring at your own reflection in the mirror you faced. For making it through a gun ambush, you looked pretty okay. The door opened to a man, a gentle smile on his face.

“Hello Y/N.” You froze, wide eyes coming up to meet his gaze.

“How do you know my name?” Your voice shook as you spoke, fear seeping into every word. He held up an ID card that you had left in your bag.

“What a coincidence, huh? That when we took someone captive it would be the daughter of the Japanese ambassador.” The same anxiety from before bubbled up again, threatening to spill out of you.

“I...I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He chuckled humorlessly, taking a seat across from you and tossing a file onto the table with your face plastered on the front.

“Says here you ran away a couple months ago right? I wonder why though...was Daddy not giving you enough weekly allowances? Didn’t get you the latest season of Saint Laurent that you wanted?” He spit the words at you as if they were poison, making you recoil back into your seat. You wouldn’t tell him the reason you ran away, but you wished it was because of something measly like Saint Laurent.

“Ah, silent treatment. Well, Ms. Y/N. I’m sure your father would reward us handsomely for the return of his beloved daughter, don’t you think?” His words made a chill shoot up your spine and tears welled in your eyes.

“No!” You screamed in his face, catching him off guard.

“Please….please don’t do that. Please don’t send me back. I’ll do anything. Anything but that.”

Your desperation seemed to confuse him further as his frown deepened and he looked at you curiously. He seemed to be deep in thought before his expression flattened once again, cold eyes staring back into your teary ones.

“Do you know how many people would kill to be in your privileged position? The money that your family has? Do you know how fortunate you are?” He judged you, tutting as he flipped open the file to read more. You shook your head, staring down at your tied hands and trying to soothe the sharp ache in your chest.

“Yeah….so fortunate.” You laughed, refusing to meet his gaze once again. If your old life had been considered fortunate, you wouldn’t even want to know what was considered unlucky. He stayed silent, only reading up on the details of your life more. 22 years old. Black hair. Brown eyes. Daughter of the Japanese ambassador and distinguished family. Your father is a business tycoon and your mother his arm candy. One sibling; a sister. Allergic to shellfish.

“Well, Ms. Y/N, if you are so desperate to not return to your cushy life with a silver spoon, you’ll stay here until we figure out what we should do with you.” He pulled you up from your seat and signaled you to follow him. The house you were in was almost as grand as your own, hallways spanning for what seemed to be miles. You guessed that the chandelier above you was Swarovski; you had the same one in your dining room. You felt annoyance gnawing at the back of your head. Who was he to judge you when your lifestyles were so aligned.

“You’ll be staying in here.” The man opened a door to a large room with a queen size bed in the middle. It looked like your room back home, and you wanted to throw up. Your expression didn’t go unnoticed as the man rolled his eyes.

“My sincerest apologies if the room is not up to her highnesses’ standards.” He shoved you roughly through the doorway, making you stumble over your own shaky feet. The man turned to leave but was stopped by your meek and quivering voice.

“W-What’s your name?” You muttered, ignoring the fear you could hear in your own words.

“Not that I owe it to you or anything,” he said coldly.

“It’s Namjoon.”

Namjoon. The name suited him. Suited his confident gait and his cold but calculating stare. You wanted to yell in his face. Tell him that you weren’t the spoiled brat princess he had made you out to be. Scream the reason why you ran away. But you couldn’t. After all your father and family have put you through, you knew how important his job was and what a high government figure he was. You couldn’t threaten that position. Your father was still your father once, and not the monster he has become.

You collapsed on the soft bed after washing up as best you could, with no intention of sleeping. Sleeping risks having a nightmare, and your state was already fragile as it was. You turned on the bedside lamp and tucked yourself into the goose-feathered blanket, finally processing everything that had happened today. It seemed to crash like a ton of bricks, and you let out the pain on a poor, ill-fated pillow that had the unfortunate fate of being near.

A knock sounded from the other side of the door and swung open immediately afterwards. You bolted up to a sitting position.

“Could you keep it down? I’m in the room next to you.” His words felt like a slap in the face, and you could feel another bout of tears surfacing but swallowed down to avoid being pummeled by your captor.

“Oh”, you hiccuped, “sorry.”

“What? Do the sheets not have high enough thread count? I’ll get someone on that”. His words were mocking and rude, and try as you did, you couldn’t stop the dry sob that forced its way out of your throat. His lips curled up into a smirk. You hated that they assumed everything about who you were. You hated being taken. You hated whoever this is that told you to be quiet.

“Taehyung! What are you doing in there?” A silver voice cut through the hallway and you halted your hysterical sobbing in anticipation and fear. Another man. One of the ones in the cafe. There had been seven of them, you weren’t sure. He looked at you and softened at your red and blotchy face.

“Did you make her cry, you brat?” He slapped Taehyung across the shoulder, making him roll his eyes.

“I told you to go easy and look at what you did.” He seemed to be lecturing the other man like a parent figure. It would’ve made you giggle had you not been sobbing.

“H-He didn’t make me cry. I was crying before...I was being t-too loud. I’m sorry.” Wiping away the tears that had clouded over helped you see the new man. Of course, dangerously handsome and aura dripping in elegance.

“Yeah, Jin-hyung, I was just trying to hack the cameras in the embassy but I couldn’t do it while it sounded like a funeral next door.” Taehyung huffed, rubbing the spot where he got hit. So this new guy’s name was Jin. You made a mental list in your head. So far you have figured out Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jin.

Jin approached you and gently wiped away the steady stream of tears on your face. You nearly gasped in surprise. Ever since the cafe, everyone has been so rough with you. Come to think of, it’s been so long since anyone has ever touched you with care and no intent to hurt. You flinched at the unfamiliarity, which made Jin frown before moving away.

“Come on Tae, let’s let Y/N get some sleep.” He ushered Taehyung towards the door and closed it gently. You were alone, again. With nothing but your thoughts.

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“Y/N, you’re fucking useless. We had you to make our family look better, and you can’t even serve that simple purpose.” Your father spit the words at you, accompanied with a stinging slap across the cheek. Some days were worse than others. At least he wasn’t hitting your sister.

“God, why the fuck did the universe give me this pathetic excuse of a fucking daughter?” He kicked you in the stomach.

“All I asked was to not go out and let the press see you.”

Punch to the jaw.

“And you can’t even do one fucking thing right.”

Another kick.

He always said the words eerily calm. That’s how you’d know he was angry. He would never yell, just said it simply and without waver as he beat you into the floor and your mother pretended not to hear from the other room.

“I should just get rid of you now. You’d make a good whore.” His fists rained down on you. By the end of it, you laid still and let him finish taking his anger out on you. It was never worth fighting back, anyway. He would just hit you twice as hard.

You woke up with a gasp, hands clutching onto the blanket that was held to your chest and gulping in air desperately. You had started crying in your sleep, leaving a wet stain on the pillow and your body felt sticky from sweat. This was why you avoided sleeping in the first place, but it seems you cried yourself exhausted last night and drifted away. A cough came from the open doorway, as a man peered in with a tray of food. His shocked eyes told you that he had been here before you woke up.

“Food.” He uttered. He walked closer to your bedside table and paused, taking in the scene before him. You were having a nightmare when he came in, and all he knew to do was stare at you until you woke up. He swiftly placed the tray onto the nightstand, and you flinched in response, which confused Jungkook even more. He shook it off, turning to make his way out the door. Before he could leave, though, you yelled out and asked for his name.

“It’s Jungkook.” His eyes avoided your’s.

“Jungkook...thank you for bringing that for me.” His hands froze on the doorknob. He never expected someone like you to have manners at all, much less for the same group of people that kidnapped you off the streets. Jungkook left with no more words exchanged.

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“Hyung...did you notice something weird about Y/N?” Jungkook fiddled with his fork as they all sat around a dining table eating breakfast. He had been feeling off all morning after Y/N, like something was gnawing at the back of his mind.

“Who? The girl we kidnapped?” Taehyung questioned, mouth full of scrambled eggs as he insisted on shoving more in. He looked at Jungkook confusedly.

“Yeah..she’s just jumpy. More than most. And when I went to give her food, she was having a nightmare and pleading for someone to stop.” Jungkook knew the signs. He knew what that looked like. He’s experienced it.

Jin looked up from his newspaper and sipped a cup of black coffee. “Come to think of it, yes actually. She flinched away from me yesterday and I barely moved.” Jin didn’t give it another thought, though, returning to his newspaper crossword puzzle.

“I dunno Kook, it’s probably nothing. Probably dreaming about someone stealing her Birkin.” The group chuckled at Yoongi’s jab lightheartedly.

“Yeah, you’re probably right”, Jungkook pushed down his suspicions. He was probably reading too much into things. Those are miniscule signs and he was in no way a profiler.

Taehyung chugged a glass of orange juice after his mouthful of eggs. “Besides, she just got snatched off the street by a bunch of strangers.” He looked at Jungkook, trying to assuage whatever he’s got his head roped up in.

The group spent the rest of the morning laughing over breakfast and briefing over the duties they were each responsible for. More like a group of old friends rather than business partners of an underground mafia that dominated the entire Seoul drug ring. You really had no idea what you had gotten yourself into, and what being the ambassador’s daughter means for you. Namjoon would have to decide by the end of the day what the course of action is regarding your situation. Giving you back to your father would put them in his favor. They would have an in to high-level government officials. However, keeping you would give them leverage to hold over the ambassador’s head. What Namjoon didn’t know, though, was why you were so insistant on not going back. He was going to make it his goal to find out.

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dontcallmecarrie · 3 years ago

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continuation of this, because why not:

“Oh, this is fun,” Loki hadn’t realized just how irritating his voice could get until now, was this why the Soldier kept throwing knives at him?

“I am only dragging you along because our interests align for now, do not expect this to continue.” He snapped over his shoulder, keeping an eye out for any potential attack even as the alarms continued to blare. He was lucky his counterpart was in such poor shape; had he even had a fraction of his usual power available, this entire enterprise would be much, much more difficult.

As it was, Loki was faintly impressed his counterpart had accomplished as much as he had when he was running on fumes. When he wasn’t sneering at the sloppiness of his plans, anyway. Magical compulsion or no, what kind of idiot went and paraded about proclaiming their intentions for subjugation?

“Come now. Do you honestly expect me to believe this isn’t to your advantage? Unleashing double the chaos.”

It was a pity breaking the magical compulsion had done nothing for his counterpart’s mental state. On a number of levels— he was a stone’s throw away from madness, all jagged pieces aimed outwards and it was uncomfortable to look at for too long for reasons Loki preferred not to dwell upon.

Well. At least he could use it to his advantage.

Victor was not a happy camper.

First had been the discovery that, as he’d suspected, that damn gun had landed him in another universe.

Second, said universe was quite possibly his worst nightmare.

Because his country didn’t exist, hadn’t existed for decades now: the Latverian civil war in this world had decimated its people in more ways than could be named, neighboring countries had snapped up just about every scrap of territory his men had fought and died for and goddamn HYDRA was using war orphans for their experiments.

...had he been a bit hasty when he’d taken out the first base he’d encountered? Sure. Sorting out the logistics for taking care of all the victims he’d encountered was a major pain in the neck, and this accelerated his plans for establishing himself in ways he hadn’t entirely expected. Klaue was as annoying as ever, and, if possible, even more of an arrogant bastard to deal with in this strange world.

Did Victor regret it? Absolutely not.

Especially when it resulted in his encountering his first ally in this hellscape.

...though this ‘involuntary twin’ thing would get old fast, he just knew it.

“Hello, Winter.” Victor greeted with a smile. “Looks like you’ve been busy, too.”

The Winter Soldier could not believe that Justin’s stupid self-help books had been good for something, but here they were.

Him, and the poor bastard who shared his face and was now stuck in that incredibly awkward stage between ‘living weapon approximately three seconds from Murder’ and ‘going through deprogramming’, smack-dab in the middle of what had used to be a HYDRA stronghold but was now a bloodbath because somewhere in between fighting himself, and everyone else coming at them, the other Winter Soldier had started breaking through his programming.

He hadn’t realized just how much progress he’d made, until now.

“What do you want me to call you?” He asked again with a tired sigh.

“The Asset does not nee—”

“Oh, fuck no. Pick something else, you’re a human being, you have value.” ...goddamn it, he sounded just like Justin.

Ugh. Justin could never, ever know, he’d never let him live it down...okay, the worst part is that he would, not that the idiot with a death wish needed any encouraging when it came to this sort of thing.

The man’d had a knife to the neck, and still offered him food, offered him help. The Winter Soldier gave his counterpart a dubious glance, and fought back a shudder.

As much as he sympathized with the guy— he’d been there, literally— the idea gave him chills.

Though...he could almost see it, now. If he squinted, he could see the tiniest speck of self-determination that HYDRA had tried its best to crush into oblivion, the ghost of a hint of personality in the twitch of his right hand, the way his left hand curled.

“Right, okay.” He sighed. Again. He probably sounded like a goddamn teakettle, but fuck it, he was at the end of his rope here, dealing with people was Justin’s thing, he was much better at punching people. “If you’re anything like me, you’re going to have some serious migraines in the next few months, and no, aspirin doesn’t do shit. You have questions, means your personality’s coming back up which is good... oh, you’ll probably want to stick around for answers because I’m about as confused as you are.”

Because this is what happened the one (1) time he tried to be nice and check up on Justin’s friend group. He could’ve been chasing down that lead in Argentina, but no, he was stuck here instead.

Ugh.

Ivan was running on spite, caffeine, and not much else.

Living on the streets was a pain in the ass, exacerbated by the fact that he was apparently supposed to be dead and...buried? Cremated? He wasn’t entirely sure, none of the sources he’d found had been able to specify and to be completely honest, he hadn’t tried too hard to look.

Just seeing his own name in the articles had been disturbing enough, the realization that a version of him had apparently gone through with his suicidal plot was...something. Not great. His vodka stash back home was going to take a hit as soon as he got back.

As disturbing as reading his own death had been, it’d still been no match for what he’d been able to find on the man who’d given him another reason to live.

Because this world’s Justin Hammer was still alive and well, and locked up in an unspecified supermax for the foreseeable future, and...

An incompetent idiot with far more money than brains, apparently.

Which was so far from the man he knew it was hilarious, because Justin’s charisma had been enough to get a dictator of a sovereign nation wrapped around his finger without even trying, had the boogeyman of the intelligence world on speed-dial and an alien god as his bodyguard-slash-PA. He was untouchable on a number of levels, so when Ivan had first read that article?

He hadn’t believed it, at first.

Had been certain it was an imposter, and while he probably should’ve spent that time researching how to get back home, he’d instead ended up down a rabbit hole of what kind of man Justin Hammer was in this world.

Call it morbid curiosity, or whatever— but Ivan had to know.

It wasn’t like he was making much progress on his own, anyway, not when his resources were staggeringly limited.

And then.

A sleek car pulled up by the overpass where he’d been sleeping, and the window rolled down to reveal a face Ivan was inordinately glad to see.

“Get in loser, we’re going shopping.” Loki called, and Ivan didn’t even question why there were two of him. Or why his twin looked like a grad student during finals week.

“Mean Girls? Really?”

“He was correct in calling it a classic.” Loki replied with a haughty sniff as he pulled away from the curb. “Besides— from what I’ve seen, I also know more about this world’s culture than their Captain.”

His twin looked lost, as he stared between them both and whoops, that was probably a terrible first impression. “Is this one of your allies?”

“Yes.” Ivan said, even as Loki spoke.

“When he’s not blasting us all to other dimensions, certainly.”

“It was an accident!”

It was a good thing Loki had so much practice driving, because he would have gotten very nervous by the way their eyes met in the rearview mirror otherwise. “Oh, I know. I’ve told you—”

“There is no innovation without risk—” Ivan defended, only for Loki to snort.

“Have fun explaining that to Victor.”

Ivan froze for a moment, breath stilling in his throat. On a good day, Victor was the epitome of a type-A personality...

“He’s here too?”

“Oh, yes. Not sure where exactly, but how do you think we found you?”

“If you say magic—”

“Are all your allies mortals?” Loki’s twin asked with just the slightest hint of a sneer, and just like that all levity was gone and Ivan didn’t even need to meet Loki’s gaze to know his answer.

“If you have a problem with that, feel free to leave. Right now.”

“Come now—”

“Ivan here blasted us all across space and time, without tearing open any paradoxes or destroying any timelines, entirely by accident. Victor? Is the ruler of a sovereign nation feared and respected throughout the realm. I do not know your approach to such things here, but any insult to my allies is an insult to me.”

Ivan...probably shouldn’t have been too surprised to discover that Victor had not only amassed a following of rabidly loyal minions, but also managed to meet up with the Winter Soldier. Er... two Winter Soldiers.

Man, this was going to feature in his nightmares for months.

“Where’s Justin?” Was the very first thing Victor said upon seeing them, and he cringed as the rest traded looks because of course the one who’d introduced them to each other was the missing link now. Justin was hands-down everyone’s favorite, and if Ivan was stuck being the one to break it to them after having spent hours hacking just to get a name?

Man, this was not going to be pretty.

“First, you have to promise not to get mad.”

“What.”

Ivan told them.

...suffice it is to say, nobody was happy to hear the answer.

“Okay then.” Victor said, face impassive save for the way his eyes gleamed. “It’s been a while since I did a prison break, anyway.”

#No Hero [Downward Descending]#My writing #schrodinger's canon

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passable-talent · 4 years ago

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ya boi is back with a new niche character played by hayden christensen for yall to enjoy.

CW: blood, wounds, cursing, piercings, tattoos, guns, fighting, deaths of unnamed characters

AJ x gn!reader - Takers (2010). the stupid hat grew on me.

dedicated as always to @haydens-moles and @iscariot-rising for being my friends and for appreciating hayden as much as I do

The story of your life, as you loved to explain it, boiled down to a little math joke. Excited five, you called it, or it’s official terminology- five factorial. Written as “5!”, hence the awful pun.

“Factorials,” you’d say, “for those that don’t remember, are a multiplication of every number up to the one that’s being discussed. As such, five factorial is five, times four, times three, times two, times one.”

Your life, your excited five, was as follows: five major scars, four tattoos, three piercings, two eyebrow slits.

“The one is usually ignored,” you’d say, “as it makes no multiplicative difference. That’s why I don’t have a ‘one’.”

In August, 2009, you got your ‘one’. Its a doozy. But we’re not there yet.

~~~

Five major scars.

December 25, 1983. It’s your first Christmas. Your parents think you’re just being a cranky infant, but something way more serious is going on- they find out the next day that you’ve got RSV, a respiratory virus that’s especially dangerous for infants. You spend the next three years periodically using a ventilator whenever the coughing acts up. You don’t remember much of it, other than the vaguely crayon-looking piece of the machine, but you can’t forget that it happened, due to the pretty white scar over the bridge of your nose. It’s not such a gnarly wound as it is a reminder- not of the ventilator that wore through your skin thanks to frequent use, but of the virus that almost took your life only a few months after it had begun.

July 28, 1993. You’re seven years old, staying at your grandmother’s house with your cousin, who’s six months older than you. You’re playing cops and robbers- he’s the cop. The forest streaks by as you run the length of the property, slightly faster than him, but he catches you and throws you down. You land on your back on a jagged rock, not only painfully impacting your spine but digging deeply into your muscles beside it. It was the first hospital visit you remember, and the dark, long scar halfway between your tailbone and your shoulders reminds you never to fall without controlling it.

January 15, 1998. You’re in sophomore year of high school, and not the most popular. You like to play by the rules, and some asshole junior decides that he doesn’t like the way you won’t let him cheat off of your trigonometry homework, and decides that a knife is the best way to settle the problem. Those homework answers weren’t worth the long white line over all four of the knuckles of your left hand, but it is a pretty little reminder that lowlifes do what they want. And law enforcement, or whatever your school called the ‘anti-bullying league’, does jack shit about it.

October 30, 2002. You’re almost done with your certification to become a cop- thank god. You couldn’t stand the people who were to become your graduate class. They were so ready to become cops just to bully people, just to get to weild an iron fist and hide their bloodlust behind the law. Not you- you’re here to do some real good. That’s what they don’t like about you. And that’s why Fred Young splits open your cheek when just he’s supposed to be practicing his sparring. It’s an ugly scar, needed six stitches, but it’s a reminder that even the cops aren’t always the good guys.

May 14, 2004. You’re a new cop, working under detective Wells. There’s a robbery of a jewelry store a few blocks from where you’re patrolling, and as you’re making your way to the scene, a man in a fedora runs smack into you, taking you both to the ground. Broken glass digs into your shoulder, but he apologizes, and his blue eyes look so genuine. He’s afraid. You’d not realize until a month later that he wasn’t a scared bystander, but in fact one of the thieves. The fifth of your scars matches your first meeting with AJ- who would, by the end of the summer, become one of the most important people in your life.

~~~

Four tattoos.

August 4, 1999- Left wrist, inside knob of the bone. The little symbol had represented something to you when you were sixteen, but it had long lost whatever meaning you’d given it. Now, it was just a pattern to pass your thumb over whenever you got restless.

February 16, 2002- The cap of the right shoulder. It was your bunk number, from when you were training to be a cop. Nothing extravagant, but it was supposed to represent the beginning of the rest of your life- it was supposed to represent your calling.

June 1, 2004- Left arm, the outside of the forearm. Bleeding from your first tattoo was a new one, the largest one on your body. It was geometrical and high contrast, black lines loosely following your veins up toward your elbow, as though that left hand was bringing darkness into your body. It did- you shot with your left hand.

July 17, 2004- Right collarbone. A single, circular monogram, made up of six letters.

T A K E R S.

~~~

Three piercings.

April 7, 1989. Your father took you to get your ears pierced, but insisted upon arrival that it was too expensive to get both done, so you only got your left. The assymetrical style would have to grow on you- at six years old, you hated it.

May 19, 2003. You couldn’t have piercings at the academy, they were unprofessional, they were dangerous. So the night of graduation, you went out and got a hole punched into your nostril- the pain made tears well up, but more than anything, it was the satisfaction of giving a pretty little ‘fuck you’ to your superiors, who you’d never see again.

July 18, 2006. AJ takes you to a fancy beauty salon for an eyebrow bar after hearing maybe once that you’d wanted another piercing. You knew you were in love with him- who else in your life had ever paid such close attention to you?

~~~

Two eyebrow slits.

June 23, 2004. You leave the police force. You tell Wells that it’s because you’re pissed you can’t find the guys that robbed the jewelry store, but that’s not even close to the truth. You’ve found them- hell, you got a good look at one of them on the very day of the robbery. But you’ve done the looking, and didn’t have the heart to bring them in. They had families. They donated ten percent of every heist to a charity. They did more for the community than the police you worked for, and they did it clean- they didn’t hurt anybody, if they didn’t have to. They did what you’d hoped to do, when you joined the force. What you’d never gotten to do. Eyebrow slits were considered extremely unprofessional, so the moment you were free of your two week notice, you split open your right eyebrow. It would give a good balance to the bar piercing you hoped to put through your left someday.

March 4, 2007. You’re cleaning up your slit when AJ walks into the room and stands behind you so that you can see him through the mirror. You keep your eyes on the trimmer you’re so delicately running over your skin, but when he opens up a little felt box with a pretty ring inside, you whirl around with such panic that you make the slit approximately half an inch wider than it should’ve been. Lilli helped you fill in the gap for the engagement photos, but you decided to keep a second slit on the other end of the unfortunate shave- a little reminder of the evening in which he proposed to you.

~~~

“The one is usually ignored,” you’d say, “as it makes no multiplicative difference. That’s why I don’t have a ‘one’.”

On August 27, 2009, you got your ‘one’.

You’d been out of the game for two years, choosing not to take a cut of the winnings. You’d advise, you’d plan, you’d set up, but you did not want to be on site when the heist went down. The boys had it taken care of, and you butted heads with Jesse far too often for anyone’s comfort.

You especially couldn’t work on this project, thanks to a little fucker named Ghost- he didn’t trust you, as a member of the Takers he’d never met, and you didn’t trust him, as a criminal you’d never grown to respect.

You knew that most of them didn’t trust Ghost either, but everything he brought forward checked out- AJ must’ve mumbled the plan thirty times in his sleep in the five days from its suggestion to its fruition. There were no holes. Knowing Gordon and John, they had some ‘insurance’ for Ghost, anyway. In case it went wrong.

Still, you stayed at the Hotel Roosevelt through it all. You were their sitter, keeping the hotel room warm and ready for their arrival. They arrived back one by one- and like usual, AJ got there first. He, Gordon, and John were usually the first to get out, but he always made it back to the room first, because that way he could get some time with you. That way, he could have a private reunion, fresh off of a job.

“Hey, baby,” he said as he closed the door, and you waited for him to turn his eyes to you before you gave him a smile. He threw down his bag onto one of the chairs, and it landed with a heavy thump, but you’d long grown used to the sound of the score. However much he pulled, good for him. You were just happy to slip your arms around his neck and feel him kiss the scar on your cheekbone before sliding his lips to yours.

He always kissed different right after a job- before the boys had all gotten back, before the total was counted. He had a confidence to his movement, but there was fear, insecurity, just a tinge. He wasn’t just a taker, he was a man, who had worries and risks just like every other man.

You were out of the game for a few reasons. They had it taken care of. You butted heads with Jesse. You didn’t trust Ghost. But you knew that you were AJ’s biggest fear- you knew that if you got hurt on a job, he’d never forgive himself.

So he kissed you, he held you close, he reminded himself that you were here, you were fine. His long fingers seems to take up half your back, and his hair was already in his face, as though you’d tugged it there yourself.

With just one more pass of your lips over his, you pulled away.

“How’d it go?” You asked with a soft voice, rolling your first finger through the curls at the back of his neck.

“Could’ve gone better,” he said with a chuckle, “but we got it done.” You heard a knock at the door, and Gordon was the next arrival- then John, then Jake, then Ghost. Jesse came last, and with him, a whole host of new problems.

A bullet splintered the door and caught AJ somewhere under the ribcage. Everyone hit the floor, diving behind couches, and you popped your head up long enough to see AJ launch over the kitchen island. The room shattered into gunfire and feathers from expensive pillows, glass shards littering the ground like raindrops. It all moved so fast, and the air exploded into noise. You could barely track AJ through it all, he was so far away, all the way across the room. And you wanted to keep your eye straight down the barrel of your gun.

“AJ!” Jesse called from beside you, hidden behind a brown leather couch, “You okay?” You looked around the side of it, and saw him ten feet from you, the longest ten feet of your life, behind the kitchen island. He was struggling, on his hands and knees.

“Get up,” you snarled, knowing he’d already taken a hit.

“Out the back!” John ordered from the doorway behind you, and you started to realize the moment, the dangerous, heavy moment. AJ was all the way across the room- he couldn’t cross it. Not with these mobsters holding ground.

“Let’s go!” Gordon shouted, and your eyes connected with AJ’s. He saw the same thing you did.

“Go,” he said, voice calm, and it cut through the chaos of the room, cut through every hardened lesson ever pounded into you, cut through every wall you’d ever built around you, around your heart. “I’m coming.”

AJ was a good liar. But he couldn’t lie to you.

“No,” you growled through gritted teeth, and you made a rash decision.

You’d always been good at gymnastics. You had strong control over the movement of your body, and had, ever since you’d learned from your cousin throwing you down onto that stone that split open your back. You could move and slink and roll and dive in ways that would keep you not only from falling, but even from being noticed.

Using the chaos as your cover, you did a tight diving roll across the room to him, slipping between shelters unscathed. This brought you just a bit closer to the mobsters, but further from the back door exit that Gordon had been trying to guide you toward. You’d chose AJ over your safety any day- the surprise and the fear in his eyes said that he wished you wouldn’t.

Making sure you had enough ammo, you considered your final move- this didn’t end until these mobsters did. There were five of them left, after all this commotion: four in the room, one in the hall. You couldn’t take all five, not with their guns being so much more than yours, but you could take out a few. You could shift attention, you could buy time.

And hopefully, you could stay breathing, too. That’d be nice.

“Stay down,” you hissed, leaving AJ behind the island where he’d be forgotten about, or assumed dead. Then, you rounded the corner and rolled to the feet of the closest mobster. As you came out of the roll you caught his legs in yours, wrenching them from under him and taking him to the ground with one of the first moves you’d learned in basic training. He hit the wall hard, and was unconscious by the time he landed- the same could not be said for his friends.

From your right, you could see Gordon, still firing, still hopeful for your and AJ’s escape. Your shoulders were above the couch, so you knew he saw as you turned your weapon to the second mobster before he could turn to you, and stopped his heart.

Your commotion had caught the attention of the other three who still remained. You whirled around and raised your gun to one of them, but they managed it first.

Gordon had to swallow back his horror as he saw a bullet enter the front of your side profile, and blood explode from the back. He took out the mobster who still had his attention on you- but your shoulders smacked to the ground outside of his view, and he closed the door.

Luckily, their aim was spotty. You now had a useless left arm, but you were still breathing. Not that you’d let the one remaining mobster notice that.

You and AJ played dead, only a few feet from each other, but the kitchen island becoming a thicker wall than any you’d ever been split by. As you stared blankly at the ceiling, taking shallow breaths hidden by the folds of your shirt, you hoped he didn’t think you were dead. You hoped he wasn’t bleeding out.

After what felt like agonizingly long minutes, the shooting finally stopped, and the door opened again. Gordon was the first to enter the room, and rounded the couch to you, grief in his eyes, expecting the worst.

But you could give him a smile.

“Surprise,” you groaned, and he lit up in relief, helping you sit up with your good arm.

“Look at you, playing dirty,” he said with a laugh, “I thought you were gone for sure.”

“AJ,” you heard Jake say from across the room, and finally AJ could sit up from where you’d forced him down. The two of you had both bled straight through your shirts, but there wasn’t any time for sweet reunions- everyone had to get out, and fast.

AJ left his car wherever it was. John gave the two of you a ride to the airstrip where Gordon was going to disappear for a while, and on the way you and AJ attempted to give each other first aid until the personnel on the plane could take care of it.

Eventually, you leaned against his left, and he against your right, your wounds still stinging and sticky with blood, but manageable, for as long as they needed to be.

The night didn’t get any easier, but that didn’t matter- you were home free, they’d managed the job, and Ghost was out of the picture, and neither of you were going to die.

And someday, when you felt brave enough to recount your near-death, near-loss, near-jailed experience, you’d say:

Five major scars, four tattoos, three piercings, two eyebrow slits. And one gun shot wound.

-🦌 Roe

#reader insert #angst #aj #aj takers #takers #takers 2010 #hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #x reader #gn!reader #aj x reader #fics

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mishasminion360 · 4 years ago

Text

Here Comes the Boom

Pairing: Javier Peña x Fem!Reader

Warning: Language

Notes: This is a sequel to my fic “This Feeling Has a Name”. That fic was supposed to be a one shot, but I received some very positive feedback inquiring about more, so I figured ‘what the heck!’ I hope you enjoy this installment as much as the first. Thank you for all your likes, love, and support. Also, stay tuned because I have a major Mandalorian fic in the works.

Since the night you ended your relationship (such as it was) you’d avoided Javier Peña like the plague. Not an easy thing to do considering you worked in the same building. Anytime the two of you made eye contact, you’d quickly duck out of the room or strike up a conversation with some poor, unsuspecting co-worker before Javi could corner you.

You’d gone as far as to request a transfer, but the powers that be were dragging their feet through the sea of paperwork. For now you’d just have to grin and bare it to the best of your ability.

You reassured yourself over and over again that putting some much needed distance between you and Peña was the wisest move; you repeated it like a mantra in your head. You practically meditated on the thought, like the fucking Buddha.

Your brain was firmly planted in reality, but your heart, God damn it, still needed a little more convincing. It was still nestled comfortably in Javier’s hands.

When you were certain he wasn’t looking, your eyes would lock onto him across the room. They would gaze. They would linger. And you would yearn. You’d walk past his empty desk and your fingers would unconsciously reach out to graze the smooth leather of his jacket draped over the back of his chair. The same jacket he’d once wrapped around your shoulders.

It was undeniable: you’d been bitten by the proverbial love bug and were sick as hell, and there was no cure. You worked in the same room as some of the most brilliant, tactful minds on the planet, so you knew there was no hiding your condition for long. And, of course, Steve Murphy was the first to figure it out.

“What the hell did Javi do now?” he asked you point blank, cornering you at the water cooler.

“What do you mean?” you asked, trying to feign ignorance and failing miserably.

“Well, he’s been more of a bastard than usual and I figured it had something to do with you. And if something did happen between you two, because it’s always the safe bet, I could only imagine that Javi fucked up royally. So, I ask again: what did he do?”

You gulped down your water, wishing it was something stronger, and tossed the cup.

“Why do you assume his bullshit has anything to do with me?”

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of Murphy’s mouth.

“Because nothing gets him more worked up than you.”

You knew it was meant as a compliment, but you tried desperately not to see it that way.

“We’re hunting Pablo fucking Escobar, darlin’. One of the most dangerous criminal, dare I say masterminds, in all of Colombia, potentially the world. But not even this motherfucker has been able to get under Javi’s skin the way you have. And don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Of course Steve noticed. Because you were so damn obvious. You were ashamed and embarrassed of your unprofessionalism, but you couldn’t blame that on Javier Peña. Your feelings and the resulting behaviors of said feelings were your own.

“The relationship had run its course, Steve, so I ended it. That’s it. We’re adults, adults break up. If Javi is insisting on taking it like a child, that’s on him.”

You return to your desk and attempt to lose yourself in paperwork. You know Steve wants to say more; the silence that follows is pregnant with his unvoiced questions, thoughts and opinions. Fortunately for you he’s wise enough to keep them all to himself.

“Hang in there,” he mumbles, patting your shoulder in a brief gesture of support before striding off.

***

You finish drying your hands and you’re about to exit the ladies room when suddenly the door flies open and in storms Javier.

“Shit!” you exclaim, both startled and a bit disgusted at the lengths he would go to just to confront you.

“We need to talk,” he grumbles, standing between you and the door.

“We have nothing to talk about, Javier, and certainly not here of all places!”

Just then one of the receptionists attempts to enter the restroom, doing a double take when she notices Javier.

“Go find another bathroom,” he barks at the wide eyed young woman.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Peña?” she snaps.

“OUT!” he roars. She doesn’t need to be told twice.

For good measure he locks the door behind her, and the two of you are officially alone. Even in the enclosed space, you try to put as much distance between the two of you as physically possible.

Javier let’s out a frustrated breath as he runs a hand over his face and through his hair.

“I know it’s the last thing you want to do, but I need you to listen to me. Just listen to me. Okay?”

Your heart is thudding in your ears but you attempt to play it cool by crossing your arms and leaning back against the sink.

“I’m listening.”

Javi took a deep breath then began again.

“You know I’m not the best at showing emotion-“

You cut him off with a laugh.

“You just screamed a poor woman out of this bathroom and you say you’re no good at showing emotion?”

You could see the anger boiling up inside him once again, but he closed his eyes, took a breath, tamped it down, and continued.

“I don’t typically get close to people, alright? I don’t usually do relationships, friendly or otherwise. What you and I have...”

You shot him a pointed look at the same instant he caught his mistake.

“Had ,” he corrected. “That’s usually the extent of my emotional attachment.”

You snickered a bit. “I sure as hell hope Steve is enjoying it while it lasts, then.”

“God dammit, I’m trying to be serious here!”

“Now you want to get serious?”

That may have been a poor choice of words. Actually, goading him on while he was obviously upset may have been one big bad idea on your part, because in a flash Javier was crushing his body to yours and shackling your wrists in his hands. He was so close that you could feel the heat from his skin burning your own. Or maybe that was your own.

He took a second to recollect himself, but he didn’t release his grip on you. In that moment you didn’t mind.

“Just who the hell said I didn��t love you, huh?”

His entire body was like an angry storm: his pounding heart was thunder, and his words struck you like lightening. But his eyes, just like that of any other tempest, were calm. And as you gazed into them your fear was washed away, as if by rain.

“You did,” you whispered. “You told me, Javi, that love wasn’t your thing. You warned me when we first started seeing each other, and you just said it again now. Don’t you even hear yourself when you talk?”

He didn’t say anything, only swallowed painfully over the lump in his throat.

“I get it, Javier, okay? This is not my first time being with someone like you. I know there are people out there who just can’t stand the idea of love and relationships, and there’s nothing wrong with that. To each their own right?”

He seemed frozen so you took the opportunity to release yourself from his grasp and lower his arms to his sides.

“That doesn’t make you a bad guy, Javier. You don’t have to apologize for being who you are. You don’t ever have to apologize for that.”

You looked away as angry, self conscious tears filled your eyes.

“I’m the one who should be sorry, Javier. I’m sorry that I wasn’t more careful. I’m sorry I didn’t take your warning to heart.”

Before you even realized what you were doing, you brought your hand gently to his face. This could, would, be the last time you ever touched him, and because he probably understood that all too well he reached up and placed his hand atop yours, pressing it harder against his cheek.

“I’m sorry I fell in love with you, Javi.”

You saw his eyes go painfully wide as you slipped from his hold and made your way around him, not sparing a single look back as you left the restroom. You didn’t see him punch the mirror, but you heard the glass shatter from the other side of the door.

Wiping angrily at your eyes, you hastily retrieved your jacket and purse from your desk and tapped Steve on the shoulder on your way out.

“Tell the boss I’m leaving early,” you said, and if Steve was going to protest you didn’t give him the chance. You were as good as gone.

***

The next day you called in sick. For one day, just one lousy fucking day, you wanted to be alone to drown your thoughts under a stack of paperwork a mile high. You told the boss not to call and bother you unless your transfer request had gone through.

But as luck would have it, you picked the wrong fucking day to stay home.

One second you were skimming page after page of Escobar’s dossier, the next the pages were fluttering in the air like confidential snowflakes, launched skyward by the force of the explosion that rocked your apartment and the shops below.

@mamacitapascal @obsessivelysearching

#pedro pascal #Javier Peña #narcos #fanfics

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abbybubbls · 4 years ago

Text

Nothing is Wrong, Doc, Trust Me

“Thank you for coming here today,” Dr. Iplier said, in his spot on the table. Dark just sat down on their spot, seeing that the rest of the seats were empty.

“It’s… just me,” Dark awkwardly said.

“I know,” Iplier replied, smiling for a second before having a serious face. “We need to talk about Wilford.”

Just at the tone of his voice, Dark knew that this had to be one of those conversations.

“What about him,” Dark asked flatly. “He seems perfectly normal to me.”

This was usually Dark’s go-to sentence; something quick and dismissive, which would get rid of something quickly without much thought. Sure, Dark would say it whenever the topic of Wilford is brought up, but nobody has really caught onto it yet.

“That’s what you say all the time,” the doctor said. Well, shit. “There’s no other way to put it, but Wilford is not normal. In fact, he’s the most… mentally unstable person I’ve ever met. And I’ve met a bunch of wackos ever since we came here.”

Dark frowned.

“I don’t see how you think he’s worse than anyone else,” they said.

“No, I don’t suppose you would,” Iplier replied, scratching his chin. “I was able to meet up with him a few days ago, and… well, I think you may need to see this.”

The doctor pulled out a piece of paper from underneath the table, and slid it in front of Dark.

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

Name: Wilford Warfstache (that can’t be his real name…)

Birth date: 11/9/????

Age: ???

Hair: Black

Eyes: Hazel (with a hint of pink?)

Height: 5’10

Weight: ???

Other: Pink handlebar mustache, no idea if it’s dyed - Forgets to wear pants most of the time - Carries a knife and gun everywhere, even when nothing bad is happening.

Story: Something bad enough to make him like this, I’m sure…

Now: A TV show host, even though he’s killed multiple guests… Talks to Dark… a lot. A hopeless romantic. Cheerful, friendly, but can be intimidating when he doesn’t know he is. Dismissive over time, and pops in and out of nowhere when we least expect it. Everybody suspects he has no laws of physics. He causes trouble when he says it was an accident, or he’s dismissive of it. He takes certain things too seriously, and ends up getting himself in trouble for it. Spontaneously shoots in random directions and excuses it for “target practice”. Can get very violent and easily offended. Mood swings, random violence, gun and knife handling, random bursts of singing… possibly more than that.

Likes: Dark (literally the first thing that came to his mind), fidget toys, TV, collecting weapons, vintage clothing, helping, storytelling, dancing, colors, music, straws for drinks, creativity, distractions, Bubbles™, himself

Dislikes: Interruptions, feeling alone, sitting still, too much detail, loud people, losing motivation, being lied to, smoke, thunderstorms, himself (???)

Diagnoses: Anxiety, Astraphobia, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, Autophobia, Mania, Memory Loss, Schizophrenia, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder

Treatments: Will talk to Dark about it. Medication, therapy, or both.

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

Dark paused for a while after reading the paper.

“You’re actually serious,” they said, staring at the doctor.

“Dead,” he crossed his arms. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed what’s been going on with Wilford lately. He’s been very trigger happy this past year.”

“He’s always trigger happy,” Dark said. “He just needs a reminder every once in a while to stay out of trouble.”

“He almost shot Captain Magnum over choosing a song for Yancy’s karaoke party!” Iplier exclaimed, but trying to keep his voice down.

“And?” Dark asked. “Magnum is a pirate, he’s been through worse. He lost his legs for crying out loud.”

“He shot multiple guests on his show!”

“He didn’t mean any of it. It was an accident every time.”

“He almost killed our creator!”

“Mark insulted him, he deserved it.” Dark almost sneered by saying Mark’s name, even though they knew it wasn’t the right Mark… probably.

“He ignores his problems and blows those stupid Bubbles™ everywhere!”

“Wilford needs a good distraction. Besides, he said those things solve all of life’s problems, why stop him?”

“Because-!” Iplier tried not to raise his voice. Instead, he tugged at his head mirror. “Why do you always have to defend him when there are clear issues?”

“Because Wilford has no idea what he’s doing,” Dark said, plain and simple. “He told me so. I see an innocence in that, so it’s justified, right?”

The doctor stuttered. “I- you- he- no! No, it’s not!”

Dark’s eyes narrowed, and Iplier stood up from his seat.

“Dark, I know that you have the best intentions with him,” he said. “But you need to recognize that there are so many things wrong with Wilford! He’s traumatized for God’s sake!”

“Wilford is fine,” Dark said through gritted teeth.

“Have you read the paper?!” Iplier asked loudly. “It’s right in front of you!”

Dark didn’t bother to look down at the paper in front of them. “I don’t care what a piece of paper says about Will.”

“I wrote it all myself,” Iplier said, pointing an accusing finger. “Papers don’t write themselves down.”

“He is innocent,” Dark almost growled under their breath. “You’re lying.”

“Dark, I’m a professional!” Iplier exclaimed. “I notice when somebody is acting unnatural, and Wilford is anything but natural!”

Dark tried not to clench their fists. “He is when he’s with me. He tells me anything and everything. Wilford is happy.”

“I’m not stupid, Dark,” Iplier said. “I see the way you are with him, and it’s clear that you really want him to be safe. If you really care about him, why don’t you just do something about it?”

Dark breathed in. They wanted to scream. They wanted to punch a hole through the wall. Instead, they kept their voice calm and steady.

“I’m doing what I’m doing because I know him the most,” they said. “I’ve already done so much to make sure that Wilford is alright. He’s too far gone to even try to get professional help, even from someone like you. It’s the best I can do right now.”

Iplier’s shoulders slumped. He looked like he was at a loss for words, as if Dark had won this argument. The corner of Dark’s lips crept up to make a smile, but they paused as the doctor opened his mouth. Dark quickly interrupted.

“If you’re going to suggest we’ll go ‘Of Mice and Men’ on him, that for sure is not going to work. Wilford is far too clever to fall for something like that.”

Iplier froze, with his mouth agape. “I wasn’t going to suggest that at all.”

“It wouldn’t matter anyway,” Dark rested their chin on their hand, looking down at the table. “He’ll always get back up.”

The doctor looked like he was at a loss for words again until he glanced to the desk at the other side of the room. Wilford’s gun resided there, right next to the TV remote. Iplier froze, having no idea if it was there the whole time he and Dark were talking.

“Wilford left his gun here,” he said.

“I know,” Dark replied with their eyes closed. “I’ll give it to him once I see him.”

Iplier turned to them. “He killed people with that thing.”

“I know,” Dark repeated, quietly. “To him, it doesn’t matter. He’ll forget anyway.”

“Then give him more reminders,” Iplier said, sitting back down in his seat.

Dark kept a glaring look at the doctor. “What?”

“Give him more reminders,” he repeated. “Make sure he does something he’s supposed to do; drink water, take vitamins, when it’s time to eat, having time away from weapons, going outside, all that…”

“Wilford is not a child,” Dark said, almost bitterly.

Iplier defensively put up a hand. “I know that, but just… give him some kind of schedule. At least something to give Wilford something that affects him mentally in a healthy way. Teach him grounding, suggest he goes to therapy…”

“He already goes to the Host for that,” Dark said matter-of-factly.

“The Host isn’t a therapist,” Iplier replied. “He’s a radio host, it’s literally in his name. He knows a thing or two about mental health, but he’s not a professional.”

He shook his head to quickly change the subject. “Look, the point is, just give him a new routine so he can have something to look forward to. Something that’s positive, and won’t be so dangerous. It can’t be that bad for him.”

Dark exhaled slowly, as if releasing an angry ghost from their nostrils. “Alright… I don’t like it, but you may be right.”

They eyed at the gun across the room.

“Thank you very much, Dark,” Iplier said, standing up from his seat. “I know this isn’t a very fun topic for you, but I just wanted to address some concerns.”

Dark silently pursed their lips. “You’re welcome.”

The doctor nodded goodbye with a small smile, and nudged the paper closer to Dark before he turned to leave the room.

Dark sat still in their seat, staring at the TV screen. Then the gun. Then the paper.

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

Diagnoses: Anxiety, Astraphobia, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, Autophobia, Mania, Memory Loss, Schizophrenia, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder

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

Dark’s mind was blank as they read the list of diagnoses over and over and over again. Mental health issues, Wilford has always had them. His brain just works differently because of them. Not better, but different. Dark was pretty sure that Wilford would be aware that his problems would be a bigger deal to other people than to himself.

Wilford would get in trouble, apologize or dismiss the problem, and go on about his day. None of it would really be a big deal, right? It was just something that happened, just another thing to be anxious about. Wilford was only human, after all, and humans make mistakes…

Still, it’s not a bad idea to have some type of safe routine, for Wilford, and for everybody. It can’t hurt to try. They’re just rules, like no shooting indoors. It’s not even a real punishment; it’s just grounding. It doesn’t have to be so bad.

Dark pondered to themselves… There was that one ukulele that Wilford kept begging for that one time he and Dark went on a walk around the town. Now that Dark thought about it, they could get that for Wilford the next time they go out. It’s something that Wilford wanted. It’s a positive thing to look forward to, at least.

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

SO! I wrote this a few weeks ago, and I wanted to make a series with this, but then I quickly lost motivation and decided to keep this as a oneshot. This is a new headcanon of mine where Dark and Dr. Iplier befriend each other by keeping Wilford in check in terms of his mental health.

I hope you enjoyed reading this! Reblogs and likes are always appreciated! 💗

#abby writes #markiplier #markiplier egos #darkiplier #dr. iplier #wilford warfstache #darkstache

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years ago

Text

The Void

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x mutant!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, HYDRA’s experiments, brief mention of suicidal thoughts, captivity, home invasion, stalking, kidnapping.

Words: 2381.

Summary: Once an ordinary human, you keep running away from both HYDRA and Avengers, knowing what your powers will be used for. The problem is the Soldat picking up your trail.

P.S. The reader is somewhat dark-ish in this one.

________________

Carefully slipping inside the laundry room through a broken window, you landed on the cold concrete floor and shivered, hoping you could find a really warm blanket somewhere upstairs.

Although you still felt a bit ashamed breaking in the houses of other people like that, at this point it was the one and only alternative you had. Of course, there was always an option to submit to HYDRA or whoever else was hunting you down, but you didn’t really appreciated it, simply trying to stay away from both heroes and villains since to you they were all the same. You knew perfectly well once somebody captured you they’d be using you for murdering other people.

Thankfully, laundry room wasn’t locked, and you started wandering the house, peeping into each and every room. Watching photos of the family the house belonged to, you felt guilty again. These people weren’t at fault you were homeless and chased out from every damn place on the Earth, but you still took what was theirs just because you could find no other way to live. Well, at least you tried to leave the place as it had been prior to your break-in, except a broken window in the laundry room and canned beans you’d eat.

God, you could kill for a bowl of homemade chicken soup. You barely remembered eating it before HYDRA captured you a few years ago. Of course, they didn’t try to starve you there, but you couldn’t call what they’d been giving you real food either. Thinking of your cell and those meals made you squeeze your eyes shut and take a deep breath. Everywhere was better than there, so you needed to put your shit together and take whatever fate offered you.

It was getting late, and you glanced at the tiny window in the basement, wrapped in a big grey comforter you brought from upstairs. You never slept in the rooms of other people, not knowing when the rightful owners of the houses you broke in could come back. Generally, you didn’t have problems with people, either escaping before their return or finding your way out secretly without them knowing somebody was hiding in their basement. However, sometimes you had a feeling people hunting you were coming close, and you didn’t risk getting too comfortable. Today was one of those days, and you bit down on your lower lip. These ones were probably not HYDRA operatives - they’d never risk attacking you at night when your powers were at peak. Nevertheless, it didn’t mean whoever was coming for you was harmless. You had to be prepared.

That’s it. Somebody was approaching, you could feel it in your bones. It was probably the one and only thing you were grateful to HYDRA - you were nearly invincible in the dark.

Silently leaving the comforter on the floor near an empty can, you got up, moving to stand near the wall behind the door, hardened black mass blocking tiny windows and leaving the intruder only one way to get in. You hoped they weren’t bringing explosives as you still had a hard time compressing the darkness around them - a month ago it resulted in some serious damage done to the house where you were hiding.

But this time was different: there was only one man who came for you, A strange man, though. He had a metal arm, and his body… It was something you had never felt before. The man was like that Duracell bunny they showed in TV ad, enhanced to the point he was barely human, probably.

But he was still just a man, now all alone with a monster like you.

When he entered quietly, leaving the door barely open, you blew it off its hinges. You had very little patience - now you would have to have a sleepless night, trying to find a new hideout as far as you could from this place and hoping HYDRA wouldn’t track you down. Its operatives were way more creative in their attempts to catch you: that mirror box trapping light nearly killed you last time.

Wrapping your fists into black mass like boxing gloves, you punched the man, but he quickly moved away, apparently, more skilled in combat than you were. Well, whatever, you thought as the darkness disintegrated on top of your skin, and then the intruder got a direct blow to his stomach without you getting near him. Coming to you at night was a suicide.

You kept beating him down until he dropped to the cold floor of the basement, beads of sweat and blood shining on his skin as you pinned him down, completely unharmed. You did your best to avoid the vital organs, but it was probably unnecessary - you could literally feel the soldier regenerating while he laid down, staring at the ceiling. Was he HYDRA’s creation just like you were? Or did good guys make beasts like him, too?

“I won’t do anything to you,” you told him, coming closer to look into his surprisingly handsome face, “but I’ll kill whoever you send to catch me next.”

“HYDRA’s… coming after you.” The soldier muttered, coughing and wincing from pain as you towered above him.

“You or them, doesn’t matter much.”

A part of you felt remorse for beating the stranger so bad he couldn’t rip the restraints holding him down despite his enormous strength, but the other part made you remember you were the victim, not him. The only thing you ever wanted was living like a human being, not a lab rat or a weapon of mass destruction used by whoever hold you hostage.

Besides, if this guy didn’t know the nature of your powers before attacking you, now he certainly did. It was unwise to let him live - he would definitely let his masters know - but you couldn’t force yourself to end him. Killing wasn’t nice. You had never enjoyed it.

“Avengers can protect you.”

What? Did the man work for them, then? You smirked, shaking you head.

“Avengers can’t protect themselves. Now please be quiet and let me leave. We’re done for today.” Turning your back at him, you went to grab your backpack and then put a few cans in it to continue your journey, tired and upset you couldn’t rest despite travelling all day long.

“I can help you.”

You abruptly turned to face him still chained to the floor and clenched your teeth. This was what HYDRA’s men were telling you year after year. Helping you, that what they were doing.

“If you don’t shut the fuck up, I’m going to plant spikes right through your tongue.” You hissed at him, going back and watching him with his pretty mouth finally shut. “If you wanna play a hero so much, go wipe HYDRA out and forget I’ve ever existed.”

The soldier stayed silent, and you exhaled angrily, marching through the basement to the stairs and quickly going up. God knew how many people could be waiting for you outside of the house - Avengers were usually gathering together on the missions, even you knew that from occasionally seeing them in the news.

Shit, it was going to be a long night.

________________________

One more month was gone as you continued to run and hide like the world’s top criminal, chased out of many cities where you could find peace for at least a couple of days. Now it was mostly one-night sleepovers anywhere you could find. You finally understood what being a mad dog meant - sometimes you thought you could kill for those canned beans you hated so much before.

Slowly, but surely you were running out of options where to hide. The only place now was the forest surrounding that little town where you relocated after your brief encounter with HYDRA two days ago. Forest was a bad place to be. You had very little skills allowing you to survive out in the wild for long. The more you thought about that, the more you realized you had, in fact, only one option left.

Suicide. Only then you could become truly free of that mad chase and ensure no one would use your abilities for killing others. You already had enough blood on your hands.

And still, when you though of black spikes piercing your head, you were shaking. It would be so much easier if somebody just shot you when you weren’t looking.

Huh, what a cruel world you lived in, you thought while finishing a can of chicken ham - God, you didn’t even remember when you ate something so delicious. It was harder to imagine killing yourself after a good meal, but you still considered the option, looking at the carpet with a dull expression on your face.

You were euphoric after your escape from that facility where you were held, and now you were thinking maybe it was better to just wither there like all those countless men and women before you, unable to contain their enormous powers in pathetic human bodies. What was the point of being so strong if you couldn’t have your life back? What were these powers for except the destruction? You’d gladly exchange your fantastic abilities on a chance to return home to your family. That is, if HYDRA let it be, which was unlikely.

You blinked, tired to the point you barely felt your own body. If they’d decide to come for you now, you probably couldn’t dodge the attack this time.

But it wasn’t HYDRA who came for you - with a syringe in your neck, you suddenly fell down to the floor, watching the handsome face of a man who had seemingly emerged from the wall behind you like a ghost. What was that? Was he like you, too? You didn’t sense it in him the first time, but maybe the soldier was more dangerous than you anticipated. Well, he certainly was, you thought as he carried you upstairs like a firefighter escaping the burning house. Would he lock you down in a cell, too? Would he let his masters experiment on you for the sake of humanity? Would he kill you once you closed your eyes?

Before the soldier reached the front entrance, you had already lost consciousness under the influence of the drag he injected.

The darkness that followed should had been calming, soothing, as you only felt safe in complete darkness, but you couldn’t find your peace: it was cold and lonely and scary when you were falling down deeper and deeper into the black void. Did he kill you, then? Was it the end? Would you spend your eternity in the dark?

It certainly felt like eternity before you woke up, still in the middle of nowhere, but feeling a soft mattress beneath your back. Your arms and legs hurt - it felt like you were tied up to bed. However, the fabric of your clothes was nothing like the ones you wore before the assault. It felt soft, and smelled pretty nice, too.

But you still saw nothing, nothing at all. Everything was pitch black.

Were you in a dark room? A cell? Whatever, you could work with it, you though and called the darkness as if it was a part of you.

And nothing happened.

You called again, then once more and once more, but the darkness didn’t free you. It didn’t answer to your plea - it wasn’t there at all.

Suddenly, you realized there was no darkness surrounding you as you heard a subtle buzz of dozen projectors directed right at you. The darkness was in your head because they blinded you.

You were screaming and crying and jolting on the bed, trying your best to break free, crush the metal headboard, do anything at all to just touch your eyes, discover what they did to you as you felt nothing but numbness and some tingling. Did they pluck out your eyes? Did they take them out because it would be easier to control you once you lost your eyesight?

You didn’t know whether you were still screaming when you felt a stranger’s hand on your cheek as he sat down on the bed. Exhausted and horrified, you tried kicking him, but the restraints kept you in place as he lowered his head to your face, “it’s alright. You’re safe.”

Oh, it was him. It was the soldier who had emerged from the wall of the house you were hiding the last time.

“What did you… do to me?” Breathing hard, you yanked your head to the side to avoid his touch. Huh, safe, that how he called it. HYDRA or Avengers, there had never been any difference to you.

“I had to temporarily blind and drug you. The effect will wash off in a few days.”

With that, you forgot how to breathe for a couple of seconds. Temporarily? Did it mean you eyes would be alright? Did he not pop your eyes out of their sockets?

“Please, calm down. I won’t hurt you.”

You stayed quiet, but not because the soldier asked you to. You just laid there, listening to the buzz of the projectors and thinking you would be able to see something again. For a few seconds you were filled with a bitter sense of triumph. Maybe you were crying again, though you couldn’t really feel the tears streaming down your face.

Oh, how could you wish to die? How could you even think of committing suicide? No, no, never again, even if you’d have to break each and every bone in the bodies of your enemies, and rip their heads off. Whatever it takes just never to return to that black void again.

“No one knows you’re here.” The soldier said somewhere close to your face, and you furrowed your brows. “HYDRA won’t find you.”

“Until you push me to the battlefield.” You sneered, still furious he did such a horrible thing to you, leaving you here like that.

“Avengers don’t know you here either.”

Laughing sarcastically, you fell silent as you felt his flesh hand touching your cheek and brushing the hair out of your face.

“Don’t worry, I will fulfill your wish.” You could smell the metal of his breath. “You won’t exist for anyone but me.”

_______________________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @void-hoechlin @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @soleil-dor @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @iheartsebastianstan @stargazingfangirl18 @ninefuckingoneone

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #winter soldier #yandere #mcu #mcu fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader

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ssa-daddyhotchner · 4 years ago

Text

Undercover - Chapter 5

Chapter Selection

It was so hot, I was begging for it. His lips grazing mine I lunged forward and captured his lips.

My tongue sliding into his mouth. He kissed back only to pull away when I was about to get out from his grasp.

He brought me up making me straddle his lap. His budge wanting to be released. My core was directly over him; I was practically dripping. I made slow movements not wanting him to notice.

I slowly grinded onto him making him groan; he opened his eyes and flipped me over. He was hovering over me while holding my hands above my head.

"Stay here", he got up walked over to his bag and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.

Latching my hands onto the headboard. His fingers went into the waistband on my underwear and he pulled them down with his teeth, taking his time.

He came back up and peppered kisses along my jaw an down my neck to my breasts. He put his mouth around my nipple, flicking his tongue over it.

I arched my back and hissed through my teeth, "Fuck." His hand making its way down to my pussy.

Teasing me his finger ghosted over my center; He run his finger up my slit. I moaned his name loudly, his hand going straight over my mouth.

"Baby if you want me to keep going you need to be quiet, can you do that for me."

"Yes, sir." Returning to his movements, slipping on finger into me. "Baby you're so wet."

I buck my hips and pleaded for him to keep going. He massaged my walls finding my g-spot and going continuously over it.

His kisses moving down my stomach till I felt his breath directly over my core. I hummed, "Baby please."

His tongue was on my clit but he didn't move it. I bucked my hips to urge him and he took it. Crying out, "Aaron please take the cuffs off, I wanna touch you."

Aaron looked up at me and agreed taking off the cuffs, "You have to ask permission to touch me." With that he returned to what he was doing.

His fingers pumping in and out when my stomach started to tighten.

My orgasm coming closer and closer as went down on me. "Aaron I-", I couldn't speak but he knew I was close. Just as I was about to cum his stopped.

"Why'd you stop", I wined. He looked up at me; his eyes were dark with lust and something else.

"I'm not done with you yet." He mumbled

"Get on your knees." He ordered and I was quick to obey. Getting on my knees I untied his pajamas pulling them down and throwing them across the room; then I removed his boxers.

His cock was twitching with just my breath on it. "Open", he ordered again. He shoved his cock in my mouth. Grabbing my hair to make the movements himself.

I was just something to get him off but I wasn't mad at it. The taste of his pre cum spread throughout my mouth urging me to do the work myself.

I grabbed his dick and pumped what I couldn't fit. He looked down at me and I met his gaze as I took all of him.

I relaxed my throat taking it; I gaged around him making him pulse in my mouth. He was close and right when he was about to cum I stopped and got up and faced him.

"If I can't cum then you can't either." He didn't like that answer. Leaning in closer, "You want me fuck you already."

I didn't answer I jumped onto him. My legs wrapping around him; my hand guiding his cock into my pussy with ease.

His hands ran up and down my back making small stratches as he slammed into me, but he stopped.

"I want you to see yourself." He walked us over to the mirror and I saw how flushed I looked. I got off of him and he pinned me to the desk in front of the mirror, "I want you to watch."

He slammed back into me, my hands not supporting my weight; I hit the cold desk sending a shock through my body. His dick hitting all the right places at a new angle.

I watched when he threw his head back, hands gripping my hips leaving bruises behind. He mumbled a number of curses and moans. I watched as my eyes dilated and sweat started to form on my face.

I rested my head on the desk trying to bring myself back up; when wrapped his hand in my hair making me look up. His rugged breath felt like fire on my skin when he knelt down lining kisses on my back; still thrusting into me

My edge started to build again when I clenched around him; letting out a loud moan. His hand went underneath me rubbing circles on my swollen clit.

"Cum for me little girl", his words pushing me further; my orgasm coursing through my body, feeling it from top to bottom.

He didn't stop and I went limp. The overstimulation becoming too much. "Please I can-", he slowed down. "Come on little girl one more, you can do it", he used a soft but aggressive voice. He sped up return to his pace.

My legs were shaking while the rest of my body was twitching. I clenched around him to make him finish faster.

The thrusts becoming sloppy when I felt him pulse inside me and release. A second wave running through.

Aaron rested his head on my back as he praised me. "Good girl", he pulled out and we both winced. "Baby...can you help me", I asked Aaron and he laughed. "Are you okay", he asked as we walked to the bathroom. He put me on the toilet and I peed.

I hummed while he cleaned me up; grabbing a rag and wiping between my legs. He helped me to the bed, "You still need my help?" I said no even though I didn't mean it.

I had what felt like jolts of electricity moving through my legs every step I took.

I just laid down; he was next to me, his head on mine whispering sweet nothings into my ear. His breath on my neck was relaxing.

I could've stayed there forever.

I was Curled up in his arms. His fingers running up and down my arm writing his name. Closing my eyes I smiled at his words. I nipped at his chest, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight princess."

Team POV

Morgan- Morgan was awoken by the sounds of screaming. He jolted up and looked around, the sound coming from the room down the halls. "Aa-", was yelled from the room. He laughed to himself knowing that it wasn't anything serious just a couple being a little too loud.

What he didn't know was that his boss was fucking his coworker into oblivion. He went back to sleep trying to block out the sound of the happy couple.

JJ and Emily- They were interrupted with the same yelling. They were doing there own thing; trying to block out the sounds they continued but it wasn't a use. JJ sighed and moved off of Emily. "Em let's just go to bed."

Emily wasn't excited about it but agreed, "Fine but if I find out who those people are i's fucking punching them.

JJ giggled and laid down with Emily by her side an dithery went to sleep.

Rossi- Dave was woken up with he phone ringing. He rolled over and answered, "Rossi."

The person on the other line had tears running down their face, they sounded like they'd been crying for hours. "Ros- Rossi."

Rossi sat up, "Reid what is it." Reid couldn't form words, his voice kept breaking up. "I was seeing my mom an- she uh she passed before I got to say goodbye."

Rossi didn't know what to say to comfort him, "Oh my god. I'm so sorry."

"I tried to call Hotch to tell him I was gonna take a longer leave but he didn't answer. Can you tell him for me." Spencer ended the call leaving Rossi in a state of shock and sadness.

____________________

Y/n POV

I was woken when the smell of pancakes filled my nose. I opened my eyes and Aaron was sitting at the table.

Trying to make my way over to him, I take one step and I stumble. He heard and he turned around jogging over to me.

"Baby are you okay." He kneeled down holding onto my upper arm helping me stand.

"Yeah, lets just say you defiantly did some damage last night." We both laughed at the comment and he helped me to the table. He gave me a box, when I opened it there were peanut butter pancakes; my favorite.

"Thank you." He gave me a smile an we ate.

When we were done we started taking a shower getting ready for work.

One of our phones were going off; it was Aarons. After finishing he called the number back.

"Aaron, Spencer called me last night. He told me he was gonna be gone longer than expected, his mom passed away last night."

I watched as Aarons face dropped I mouthed, "What is it." He held up his finger telling me to wait a sec.

He hung up the phone then spoke. "Reids mom passed, he's gonna be gone longer then we thought." I felt my heart ache for him.

He defiantly didn't need the added stress. Especially with his relapse. "We can't do anything for him until we get back."

I walked into my room closing the door behind me; when I was about to leave the hotel room. I met with Morgan about to knock. "Hey"

"Hey yourself mama, do you know if Hotch is still in his room." I walked down the hallway.

"Yeah his is. I think he's almost done. I'll meet you guys at the station." With that I left Morgan, he was knocking on Hotchs door.

I decided to get everyone some coffee. when I got to the station everyone was already there. I handed the drinks out.

"Okay so lets say this unsub is protecting the child. He has to know what goes on at home and if they are even being abused", JJ says.

I continue, "So it they have to work at a school or hospital." Everyone agreed with me and Aaron gave me a quick glace and smile.

Emily starts, "A school consoler, but wouldn't they be required by the school to report abuse or suspected abuse." Emily was right the only thing that made sense was a doctor a nurse.

Someone that didn't need to report anything because all they saw were broken bone and they don't ask many questions.

Morgan calls Garcia, "Hey sweetness, did any of the victims go to the same hospital?"

She speed types, "Hey back at you and two went to the same one but the other 3 went to separate hospitals." Hotch picks it up, "Were there any doctors or nurses that did multiple rotations at different hospitals."

"Yes sir there are 10 names all working at the hospitals were the victims were treated."

"Remove the names that aren't parents." Hotch gets up from his seat. "There are.....three."

"Did they treat the victims children?", I ask. "No but they were all working around the same time they arrived there. You don't have to ask I already sent the names and addresses to your phones."

"Thanks baby girl." Morgan hangs up the phone. "Ok Emily and Rossi you take Jason. Morgan and JJ you go to Smiths. Y/n and I will to go Graces, let's go." Hotch nods and we all head out for the SUVs going to the addresses.

_________________

Hotch and I are in the SUV driving over to Graces. When we arrive, there are cops waiting for us. We don't know if she was in there or not, the cops haven't reported any movement.

Hotch stops the car stepping out with his vest on. I put mine on in the car before we approach the door.

With the police behind us, Hotch is in front, "FBI". He kicks the door in, holy shit that was hot; I think to myself. I go in after he does.

I got my gun out and aim it up right; I snap around the corner to see and empty living room. "Clear!", I yell and I hear Hotch and the other cops saying the same thing.

I pulled out my phone and called Morgan, "You guys have anything?" I wasn't even sure if it was any of these people. I had my doubts; I figured another body would drop before we could get close to catching them.

Its cases like these that make me feel like it's too easy, that something bad was going to happen.

Morgan responded, "I patched Rossi and Emily, she's here; in the house. Hotch she has a hostage."

"We're on our way." I looked at him as we walk back to the car. "Hotch I didn't think this unsub was even willing to take a hostage."

He got into the drivers seat. "Maybe she feels that she's still doing the child a favor, in the end she 'saved' the kid from their mom."

I nodded and looked at the road ahead of us.

It took about 10mins to get to the Smith house. Cop cars and officers were surrounding the area. Morgan standing outside making some communication on a phone.

The snipers didn't have a clear shot. Someone was going to have to go in.

I turned to Hotch. "I'm going in." He didn't even look at me. I pulled him aside. "Hotch I can do this. You go in through the front and face her establish a trust. I can enter through the back door....and If I have a shot and there doesn't seem to be a way out...then I'll take it."

I could practically see the gears turning in his head. He didn't wanna put me in harms way but at the end of the day I was able to take care of myself, and he knew that.

"Okay." He took off his gun and holster handing it to Morgan as he walked to the front door.

Morgan calling the unsub before hand to let her know we were coming inside to 'help'.

I hear Hotch enter opening and closing the door behind him. I sneak in through an open window in the bathroom slowly making my way down the hallway. I hear Hotch talking to the unsub.

"Smith we can help the child ok", he has his hands by his sides. The unsub pointing the gun to him with the Mom his her arms holding her by her neck in a choke hold.

"Mothers aren't supposed to hurt their babies....she needs to pay." The unsub says in anger and sadness. she clearly had been a victim of abuse herself.

Hotch reassures her, "She will pay...ok, we'll take her she'll go to prison and loose custody." His voice becoming uneasy.

She raises the gun to the hostages head. "That's not good enough." There were tears steaming down her face.

I come put from behind the corner; turning into the room. My voice is calm, "Put it down, we'll take her you can watch her go to prison. Why kill her? Then she wouldn't be a to live with knowing she hurt her child. If you kill her, her suffering will end and she doesn't live with the consequences."

The unsub moves the gun pointing it down, I withdraw my weapon putting it into my holster. "You promise she will" I reassure her.

"I promise", I look her in her eye and she pushes the Mom towards Hotch. He grabs her and runs out the house send in the cops while I unarm her.

On the jet Rossi and Hotch told Morgan, JJ, and Emily about Reid and his situation; that they need to be careful around him, he was fragile.

When they ended the conversation we still and a good five hours till we got home. Everyone was asleep except me.

I look around and see Hotch in the corner of the jet on the couch. The team was huddled up in front.

I walked over to him; his head was leaning up against the wall. He was in an upright position so I shook him awake.

He opened his eyes a bit and he said in a soft voice, "What is it baby."

"I'm tired, their sleeping so I figured." He smirked and moved his leg so I could lay in between. My head against his chest, his head on mine.

My arms curled up against his body. His hands wrapping around me holding me close to him.

________________

@marie1115 @donttellanyoneireadfanfiction @appleblossoms-posts @mac99martin

#aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner #reader x aaron+hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron #hotch x y/n #hotchner x reader #hotch smut #hotch #criminal minds #fanfic #writing #reader insert

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allthefallendemons · 5 years ago

Text

Change (Lucifer Morningstar x Reader)

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader One Shot

a/n: hi quick lil note! I’ll be publishing this on my ao3 as well (allthefallenangels) so yeah! I hope you enjoy :)

Content Warnings: Cussing, Angst

Brief Summary: After a damaging breakup with Lucifer, the reader experiences drastic changes to herself and her personality. Unsure if this is for her own greater good, Lucifer confronts her.

Word Count: 1.6k

PART 2

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

It had been exactly six days, two hours, and twenty-three minutes since you were last in a relationship with Lucifer Morningstar. The two of you were keeping things steady, enjoying every moment you spent with one another. That was until Lucifer decided he was bored with you, finding his next exciting plaything. So, here you were, sitting on your couch and devouring your third tub of ice cream and watching Friends. "How does Ross Geller manage to keep a stable relationship when I can't even keep one going for five months," you grumbled quietly to yourself, getting up from the couch as your big baggy blanket hung over you. "God, I am LA's Ross Geller," you shrugged off the blanket, throwing the rest of your ice cream into the freezer. Shifting over from the fridge to your kitchen counter, you groaned softly. "I don't fucking need him."

grabbing your phone off of the counter and scouring the internet for ways to get over your ex. "Try changing the way you look to make you feel better.." letting out a quiet laugh, you shook your head. "change how?" until the perfect notification popped up on your phone.

A couple of days later, two huge packages arrived in the mail causing you to cheer "Change is good!" taking the two boxes inside and opening them up. Pulling out an eighty dollar makeup palette, you grinned. "Lucifer Morningstar, consider yourself erased from my life. I've got a new significant other." Opening the rest of the box, you began to apply your very first makeup look with the help of some youtube tutorial. Once that was finished, your eyes widened at how different you looked. Natural looks have always been your go-to style, something Lucifer always found unique about you. Opening the other box, the sharp smell of leather filled your nostrils. "Holy shit.." you murmured, taking out a beautiful red leather jacket. You slid the coat on, grinning as it shaped your curves and perfectly defined your body. "How's this for a change." you purred softly to yourself, nodding as you looked in the mirror.

You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, your eyes widening as 'Scientist Ella' popped up on your screen, "Hey Els!! What's up?" already making your way to the door, you knew what she was about to say "I need you to come in, it's an all hands on deck situation in Homicide." she said quickly before hanging up. A small smirk slid across your features, this was the perfect reason to somehow stumble across Lucifer. You were sick of playing by the rules, being the silent follower. It was time to play by your own goddamn rules and not even Lucifer was going to tell you what to do.

Pulling up to the crime scene on your previously abandoned motorcycle, you slid off the bike with a confident grin. "Detective Espinosa!" you cried out, walking over to the previously sullen man. "What are the details on the current case?" you grabbed the file from him, choosing to ignore the shocked look that crossed his features. "Detective L/N, you- you look a little-" "different?" you grinned, your eyes scanning through the file. "Well, yeah! It's not a bad thing though, I.. I heard about what happened with Lucifer." your smile faltered as you glanced up at Daniel, choosing to stay silent. "He's a fucking prick." Dan muttered, looking you in the eyes "He does not deserve you, especially now." his gaze trailed up and down your body. You didn't know how to respond, clenching your fist as you tried to remain professional. "Look, Dan, I think it's flatter-"

"Detective?" an all too familiar voice alongside an all too familiar face entered your vision. "Ah... Lucifer." Your tone was quiet as you took a deep breath, avoiding looking him in the eyes. "I see that you were called in as well..." you trailed off, your chest growing heavy as the broken feeling that had briefly left returned in a rush. "Well, I am the consultant after all!" Lucifer grinned, trying to get you to look him in the eyes. "Yeah, well, whatever. The victim is John Wilkins, a recently retired accountant who just returned from a trip to Italy. His wife said they were looking for a change in pace, not realizing that this trip would be their last." you walked into the house, hearing Lucifer quickly pick up after you. You could feel his gaze burning into the back of your head, knowing he was dying for you to look at him. "Well, it seems that wasn't the only thing that changed," Lucifer muttered, a small smirk crossing your features as you heard his comment.

"Well, sometimes change is for the greater good." you shot back at him, kneeling beside the body and inspecting it. "Excuse me, you can't- Y/N?" Ella's eyes went wide as she looked at you "OMG! You look so different, I didn't even recognize you!" you let out a soft laugh, trying to look over the body. "You're not the only person who said that." you grinned as Ella knelt beside you. "Poor guy, it seems he suffered from lacerations across his main artery. It was a quick death, but the problem is that after he died, the assaulter cut off his right thumb..." Ella trailed off, as you nodded slowly "Perhaps for entry into something? A safe or maybe his phone?" you got up, bumping into Lucifer who was far too close for your own preference.

"Detective, do you mind if we talk?" he muttered into your ear, causing you to cock an eyebrow. Ella shrugged as you glanced over at her before looking back at Lucifer, "yeah, sure, whatever. But make it quick, I'm trying to work for once without being disturbed by your nuisances." you spat at him, trying not to recoil at just how cruel you were. Lucifer nodded to himself, guiding you to a nearby room and shutting the door behind him. "What is this? This isn't you, Detective. You're gentle and nurturing, you've been talking about being free of makeup for the longest time. You told me you preferred it that way, not wanting to spend money on makeup when you could save up for a cat. This new badass look isn't you, Detective. You're soft, you're caring, and you... This just isn't you, darling," you clenched your fist as he called you detective "Just fucking stop" you spat at him. Looking him in the eyes, you could feel all of the words you wanted to tell him bubble in your chest.

"Stop acting as if you care about me, stop calling me detective, and don't fucking act as if nothing happened. Like I was here the entire goddamn time and not gone for ten days. Like nothing fucking happened between us." you snarled, taking a deep breath. "I changed because I need to change, if I didn't do anything about me then I would still be at home. You broke my fucking heart, Lucifer. I am- I was in love with you." You shook your head, looking down at yourself. You could feel yourself get angrier by the minute as Lucifer walked closer to you "I broke up with you to protect you, Y/N. After seeing you get hurt so many times, I didn't want to see you in any more pain." He placed his hand on your shoulder, causing you to immediately swat it off. "don't fucking touch me." Lucifer shared a hurt look with you before doing a 180 turn, not wanting to look at your enraged features. "Look at how well that fucking turned out," you snapped at him, taking one final deep breath before walking over to the mirror. You could feel the barriers break as tears began to flood down your features. Your makeup smeared but you didn't care, you couldn't care, because if you did, it would mean that he won.

"I need you, Lucifer." your frail voice broke the silence, looking at him with big E/C eyes. You felt small in his presence, watching him with wide eyes as he cupped your face. "I didn't... I didn't think I could do this to you..." he murmured, wiping away the smeared makeup. "My dearest, Y/N," he leaned forward, completing the gap between his lips and your own. A wave of emotions crashed through you, trying to resist the urge to kiss him back. To collapse into his arms, tell him that all is forgiven, to be Lucifer's again. You broke away, shaking your head. "No. You don't get to do this," you choked out, pushing him off of you. "You should have talked to me, I didn't deserve this. You ghosted me, sent an 'I can't see you anymore' text and that was it. And to make things worse, you told Mazikeen to keep me out of Lux? Was it to spare me from seeing you all over other people?" you snarled, shaking your head and taking a deep breath. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you whimpered quietly. "I'm just another notch on the Lucifer Morningstar sex belt." you choked out softly.

You walked over to the door, grabbing the handle. "If you want to make things up to me, prove it. I can't- I can't get hurt again," your voice was deep with hurt and shame. "Tell Chloe to take over the case, I'm going home," you murmured, opening the door and with one swift movement, you were gone. Lucifer stared at the empty space where you once were. He stared up to the ceiling, shaking his head "is this what you wanted?" he growled, clenching his fist before punching a hole in the wall. He no longer cared for anything in the world, the only thing he knew was that he was going to get you back.

#lucifer netflix #lucifer fox #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer fanfiction #lucifer x reader #tom ellis #dan espinoza #daniel espinoza #ella lopez #lucifer one shot #lucifer imagine

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luxekook · 5 years ago

Text

chapter six.

⇥ pairing: ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 4.6k (may have gotten a bit *cough* carried away)

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, dirty talk, general chaotic energy, poly relationships, switch!reader, jungkook being a lovable idiot, bad driving, taehyung trying (and failing) to catfish the reader, bar bathroom smut, oral (m receiving), light choking

Chapter Six

Habitat Worksite – 11:25am

The rest of the morning goes by pretty smoothly much to my surprise. The group that I help Eddie orient is from a pub in the neighboring town. They’re so much nicer than the last scarring group I had to deal with, and they’re actually listening to my directions.

I’m pretty sure I have tears in my eyes as I supervise them cutting plywood like professionals – but that could just be the sawdust.

When I become confident that no one is going to injure themselves with the power saw, I recruit some other volunteers to help me transfer the cut wood inside.

As we walk into the house, I almost drop the plywood onto my foot. Jungkook is shirtless, mixing cement together. When had he even arrived? I stare unabashedly at him – The height. The build. The broad shoulders. The veined forearms. The ridged stomach. The tattoos…

Tay, the middle-aged mother of two helping me, follows my line of vision, “Oh my... please tell me you’re hitting that, darling.”

“Tay!” I hiss, my eyes darting around to see if anyone heard her. Sure enough, Jungkook is looking at us and smirking like he was just crowned king of the fucking universe. “I am not hitting anything, thank you very much.”

She makes a derisive noise, “I might be old, but I'm not blind. He’s looking at you like you’re the best thing since sliced bread.”

Jungkook hands off his mixing duties to Matt and saunters over to us, “Hey, noona. You look nice today. Do you need any help?”

“Not hitting that, my ass,” Tay mutters and shoots me a triumphant look as she walks back outside.

I roll my eyes at her antics and turn to Jungkook, “Hi, Kookie. What happened to your shirt?”

Jungkook blushes, “I may have taken it off, and then it may have fallen into the cement.”

My eyes wander around the room until they fall on a sad lump of fabric and semi-dried cement in the corner. My lips twitch.

“Noona-a,” Jungkook whines, “Don’t laugh!”

My body doubles over, shaking with laughter. Tears stream down my face as I try in vain to catch my breath.

“Is she okay?” I vaguely hear Hobi ask before I feel his hand run soothing circles on my back, “(y/n), are you crying?”

I straighten, wiping my tears, “H-he… cemen-nt… sh-shirt…” My cackles resume.

“She’s lost it, hasn’t she?” Yoongi enters the house with eyebrows raised, “It was only a matter of time. Jungkook has that effect on people.”

“Hyung!” Jungkook punches Yoongi in the arm.

"Am I wrong, Hobi?" Yoongi turns to the other boy, who's hand is still firmly on my back.

Hoseok shoots Yoongi a dirty look, "Don't drag me into this. The last time I tried to argue with the two of you I almost got a concussion."

Jungkook smirks, looking way too pleased to receive such an accusation, "I seem to recall you liking it, Hobi-hyung. What was it you were screaming?"

Yoongi snickers as he leans into Jungkook, effectively teaming up on poor Hobi, "I believe the phrase was 'harder, oh my god, harder!'" He and Jungkook collapse onto each other in fits of laughter as Hoseok turns an amusing shade of magenta.

I turn to face Hobi. "Is that how you like it?" I murmur, tilting my head to stare up at him, "You like it hard? Rough?"

Hobi swallows as his pupils dilate. His hand on my lower back suddenly clenches, crumpling my shirt within his fist. "Yes," his voice comes out deeper than I had ever heard it.

Vaguely, I notice the other two boys have stopped laughing. Good. No one would tease my sweet Hobi in front of me and get away with it.

My decision solidifies. "Well," I say, "Then that's how I'll give it to you."

"No one will be giving anything to anyone until we finish this project," Namjoon's voice booms, breaking up your little moment with Hoseok.

The four of you swing to face him, blinking owlishly.

Namjoon's eyes are shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration, "Jeon Jungkook, for the love of god, where is your shirt?"

An hour later, I found myself stuck in the backseat of Jungkook's black Range Rover. After Hobi, Yoongi, and Jungkook had loudly voiced their opinion in front of the entire worksite that it was their turn to drive me, I had quickly jumped into the car to avoid further humiliation.

Now, I sat wedged in between Hobi and Yoongi who both refused to sit in the front next to Jungkook and also forbade me from doing so. I only agreed because I was not one to miss an opportunity to be pressed up between two hot guys. Sue me.

Glancing down at my thighs, I marvel at the way both of the boys have placed possessive hands on them. "This is so lame," Jungkook complains for the hundredth time as he glances at the three of us in the rearview mirror. "I want to touch noona, too!"

We ignore him.

Yoongi's slim fingers dig in slightly into the softness of my inner thigh, "(y/n)," his hushed words ghost over my neck, "Come home with us?"

"Please," Hobi echoes from my other side. His hand is more brazen in its placement. His pinky just a fraction away from the apex of my thighs.

Perhaps I could close my legs like the proper lady my grandma wanted me to be... but fuck that. I would woman-spread however I damn well please. "Hmm," I pretend to think about it, "No."

"But why?" Hobi pouts, making puppy-dog eyes in my direction, "You said you were going to give it to me."

I shrug, noncommittally, "I never said when."

Jungkook sighs from the driver's seat, "Ah, I love it when noona is evil."

"We fucking know, Jungkook," Yoongi groans, "You only bring it up a thousand times a day."

"Hey!" Jungkook whirls around in his seat, "Stop exposing me, hyung!"

"Eyes on the damn road, JK!" Hobi grips the 'oh shit' bar as the car begins to veer into the bike lane. Jungkook whips back around and quickly rights the car. Meanwhile, Yoongi smirks like the little shit starter he is.

"Looks like I'm not the only evil one here," I roll my eyes, "You're a menace, Min Yoongi."

"Yes, I am," the boy puffs up his chest and grins that gummy smile that he knows makes me melt, "But I'm your menace."

"Ah, gross!"

"Ew!"

Jungkook and Hobi yell as I try not to smile at Yoongi's rare display of cuteness and fail miserably.

"Stop trying to butter me up so that I'll come home with you, Yoongs," I smile and thread my fingers through his.

"Why?" He leans into me, "Is it working?"

"Not at all," I breathe, eyes darting to his lips as his tongue slips out to wet them.

"Liar," Yoongi moves in closer. My eyelids lower in anticipation.

Jungkook slams on the breaks and jolts the three of us forward, "We're here!" Grumbling, I pull my seatbelt away from its death grip on my body.

"Well played, Jungkook, well played," Yoongi comments from beside me.

"Tell that to my fucking neck," Hobi moans as he massages the front of his neck where his seatbelt must have dug in.

"Aw," I take pity on the poor boy and offer half-jokingly, "Want me to kiss it better?"

"YES!" Hobi's hand flies off his neck at the speed of light and thrusts his neck out in my direction.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph, he is adorable.

I place the lightest of kisses against the growing pink mark on his skin and revel in the shudder his body emits.

"Bye, Hobi," I place one last kiss on him and slide out of the car, using the door that Yoongi vacated from.

"Bye, angel!" Hobi cries out after me, waving furiously. So damn adorable.

Once I exit the car fully, I am faced with a pouting Jungkook and an annoyed-looking Yoongi.

"What now?" I eye them warily.

Yoongi gives Jungkook a dark look, and the younger boy backs off slightly. Turning back to me, Yoongi steps forward. "Bye, (y/n)," he says lowly, brushing a fallen strand of hair behind my ear. A light dusting of pink floods his cheeks at his own soft actions. I bite the inside of my cheek to contain my innate reaction to shower him with affection.

That time would come later, I'm sure.

"Bye, Yoongi," I press my mouth his cheek, "Keep your menacing ways to a minimum while I'm not around, would you?"

"No promises," Yoongi drawls, before hopping back into the car.

And just like that I'm left with one tall bashful boy.

"Oh, Jungkook..." I walk towards where he is propped up against the front of his car. His lean body slouches against the hood as his left leg props itself up on front tire. He still has yet to put another shirt on.

"I'm sorry, noona," he speaks to the pavement in the tiniest voice, "I got jealous that I wasn't getting to be that close to you."

I lift his chin up with my finger, "Baby, you were the only one who had my nipples in your mouth last night, and you're jealous of them?"

He swallows hard before grinning, "Well, when you put it like that..."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," I give into the urge to trace the muscles of his stomach. They bunch up under my touch and I smile at his responsiveness. "You know," I continue, "You're going to have to get over this jealousy thing if I do decide to date you all."

"I know, noona," the pout returns, and this time it's paired with a devastating pair of imploring doe eyes. "I just like you. A lot.”

"Well," I smile, "It's a good thing that I also happen to like you. A lot."

"Really?" Jungkook's neck snaps up at an alarming rate, "You do?"

"Yes, you giant idiot," I grip the back of his neck, "Now, kiss me goodbye."

He kisses me. His teeth pull at my bottom lip in a faint bite, and goosebumps spread across my body. I bite him harder in retaliation, but it only seems to urge him closer against me, body hard, warming me everywhere we connect. His fingertips drag down my skin until they reach my waist. His hands slide up under my shirt, and he rests his palms against my skin, fingers splayed down over my hips.

His hold is undeniably possessive. And that would not do.

I lean up and kiss him harder, digging my nails into his back as I tug him against me, feeling every inch of his body respond to my touch. A groan rumbles deep from within his chest.

“Do you think they’re going to come up for air soon?” An amused voice cuts through our make-out session.

Jungkook rips his mouth from mine, “Fuck off, Hobi.”

I open my eyes and blink a couple times before focusing on the smirking faces of Hobi and Yoongi. Their heads are sticking out of the open back window of the Range Rover as they cackle in amusement.

"Hobi," I say sweetly, "Do you need another mark on your neck today?" My hand flexes tauntingly in his direction.

Hoseok's eyes widen, "N-no! Bye again, (y/n)!" He retreats back into the car as Yoongi continues to chuckle before rolling up the window once more.

"You can mark my neck, (y/n)-noona." Jungkook's voice jolts me from my second thoughts on not going home with them.

This boy really is shameless, I think to myself as I shake my head.

"Maybe next time, Kook," I grin at him, "It'll give you something to look forward to."

"For as long as there are next times with you, noona, I will look forward to them."

My heart swells. "You're such a sweetheart, baby boy." The nickname has its desired effect as Jungkook's cheeks blush and his smile widens.

"I'm baby," he nods.

"Yes, you dork, you are," I place a swift peck to his cheek and head into my apartment before I get any more tempted to jump back in his car and initiate a foursome.

God, what were these boys doing to me?

(Y/n) & Luna’s Apartment – 4:15pm

A few hours later, I am deep in an argument with Luna over who the best Queer Eye guy is when my phone buzzes.

[Unsaved Number] 2 New Messages

Luna notices my confusion. "Who is it?" she asks, leaning over to look at my screen.

"No fucking clue," I reply, swiping open the messages.

[Unsaved Number] 4:15pm: “Hey, babe! It's me! Namjoon!” 4:15pm: “Want to meet at Hannigan's tonight? Just the two of us!?”

"What the everliving fuck?" My eyebrows rise at the completely obvious way that someone was poorly attempting to impersonate Namjoon.

"That's how Namjoon texts?" Luna sits back, "What a letdown."

"I don't think this is even Namjoon," I mutter and save the contact before swiping over to SnapChat. "Let's see if I have this person's Snap."

"Oh, your mind!" Luna exclaims, running to go grab a bag of pretzels from our tiny kitchen adjacent to our also tiny living room, "That is some top sleuthing right there."

"Why thank you, my good sir," I nod at her playfully before focusing back on my screen. Opening the 'Add Friends' tab, my eyes immediately hone in on the imposter.

"Oh, that little shit," I cry, chucking my phone onto the other end of the couch.

"What? Who is it?" Pretzel crumbs spew out of Luna's mouth as she ambles over to where I had just thrown my phone. She picks it up, turns it over, and lets out a long whistle. "Oh, fuck. What are you going to do?"

Luna hands my phone back to me, and I reopen the messages to respond.

Me 4:21pm: "Hi, Namjoon. I'll meet you there." 4:21pm: "9pm."

It'S mE! nAmJoOn! 4:22pm: “Yay! It's a date!” 4:22pm: “See you at 9!!!”

"Well," I lock my phone and set it down on the coffee table, "It looks I’ll finally get the chance to teach Kim Taehyung a lesson."

Luna springs up from the couch, "I'm calling Jenni. Let's do this."

Hannigan’s - 9:09pm

I'm nervous with anticipation.

Why?

Oh, that’s right – motherfucking Kim Taehyung thought he could pull one over me by impersonating Namjoon, and, so far, he's nowhere to be found.

I grasp my beer tightly as I slouch lower on my barstool. Since arriving about twenty minutes ago, I had set up camp in the corner of the bar. Luna and Jenni had immediately ditched me upon arrival, claiming that they were meeting friends.

I would have believed them if I hadn’t noticed that they just relocated to a table within vision of me and were scouring the room for any signs of Taehyung. I pull out my phone and once again debate texting him.

Fuck it. I'm just about to construct a text when my phone pings with messages from the group chat:

Bee Gang 9:10pm, Luna: “HE'S HERE” 9:10pm, Jenni: “HE LOOKS SOOOO GOOD KSKSKS” 9:11pm, Luna: “HOLY SHIT I THINK HE JUST SAW YOU” 9:11pm, Jenni: “TAEHYUNG IS LOOKING AT YOU LIKE YOU'RE THE HOTTEST THING HE'S EVER SEEN. HE'S GONNA FUCK YOUR SHIT UP I’D BET GOOD MONEY!!!” 9:11pm, Luna: “NAH DUDE *SHE* IS GONNA FUCK UP *HIS* SHIT” 9:12pm, Jenni: “OMG U RIGHT” 9:12pm, (y/n): “1) YOU BOTH SUCK AT HIDING, 2) NO ONE IS FUCKING ANYONE UP, 3) MAYBE THE SECOND THING IS A LIE”

I lock my phone and place it face down on the bar.

Looking up to see where Taehyung is, I immediately lock eyes on him. He's slowly making his way towards me with people constantly pausing him to chat. Taehyung’s all smiles, but I can tell he is a bit annoyed. That strikes me as odd – I thought he loved the attention?

The boy emerges free from the crowd, and I finally get to take him in.

Damn, he does look so good. His tight white t-shirt emphasizes his toned stomach while his overlying black leather jacket makes his shoulders look a mile wide. My gaze drops lower and take in his black pants with a black belt cinching the waist. I have to fight the urge to grab it and use it to pull him into me.

He’s almost to me when he turns his gaze to the bartender and flicks up two fingers. And just like that two beers and an annoying but hot-as-sin man appear in front of me.

“You don't look surprised to see me,” he says as his greeting, sliding me one of the new beers. He shoots a look at the group of boys occupying the stools next to me and they immediately make themselves scarce.

I arch an eyebrow, “You do realize I had all of your SnapChats to double check the number with, right?”

"God-fucking-damn," Taehyung plops down in the barstool next to mine, "No wonder it was so easy to convince Joon to let me do this." He shakes his head and glances up at me beneath his blue fringe, “You still came? Even though you knew it was me?”

I roll my eyes at his cute actions, "Yes, I figured you had something important to say if you went through all that to get me here."

He blinks, clearly still caught off guard that I wasn't surprised to see him. "I do," His voice cracks and he flushes deliciously, "I mean, yes, I have something to say."

"Okay," I nod and sip from my beer, "So, tell me."

His fingers fiddle with the label on his beer bottle as he begins, "I know I'm not your favorite person... I'm loud. I'm bratty. I know that. But I just have to know if you felt anything that night last semester; because, I did, and I can't stop thinking about it. I know that you probably haven't. It's been killing me to see you with everyone else that I love, and I just need to know if there's a chance you might want to be with me like that, too, and-"

I clamp a hand over his mouth. His eyes snap to mine.

"Baby," I sigh, "Is this what's been making you act out?"

Taehyung's head bobs as he nods swiftly.

"Now, that just won't do," I murmur, my mind whirring as I think of all the times I had thought he wanted to annoy me when all he really wanted was my attention.

"Listen," I continue, pulling my hand from his mouth, "I don't know where you got those ideas stuck in your head from, but they're wrong. I do think about that night last semester. All the fucking time, Tae. And, yes, you're loud, and you have a tendency to be a brat... But, it only makes me more interested."

Taehyung's eyes burn into mine as I lean closer, "It only makes me want to teach you some discipline."

I watch as Taehyung’s knuckles go white as he clenches his beer. Concerned that the glass might shatter in his grip and hurt him, I slowly place my hand over his, “Relax, baby.”

"You can't just say things like that, noona!" Taehyung moans, shifting in his seat.

"And why not?" I tease as he takes a long sip of his beer with his head tilted back and his throat muscles moving in a way that made me want to do bad things.

I blink, "You know what? Forget it. Let's just start over, okay?"

Taehyung bites his lip, “Okay, sure.” He gestures to the bartender for another round, “Let’s play a game.”

My response is automatic. “Alright, Jigsaw. What kind of game?”

“Just a nice harmless game of ‘Never Have I Ever’, (y/n). Nothing untoward, I promise.”

My eyes narrow at his way-too-innocent smile and his archaic use of ‘untoward’. “Fine,” I arch an eyebrow, “But I have a few stipulations.”

“I would be disappointed if you didn’t, noona,” he scoots his stool closer to me, “Lay ‘em on me.”

Oh, I will, my inner hoe responds.

Out loud, I reply, “The game can be stopped at any time, and you have to explain your answers if the other person asks.”

“Done,” he grins, “Never have I ever gotten my nipples pierced.”

“That’s targeting!” I exclaim indignantly, “You’ve seen them, you prick.”

“I haven't tasted them. At least, not yet,” his eyes squint at my boobs which are currently well-covered by a jean jacket. “Jungkook has… That fucker,” he mumbles under his breath.

These boys and their jealousy... I shake my head. How had they managed to stay in a relationship with all of this possessiveness they clearly had going on? It's truly a mystery.

"My turn," I grin, "Never have I ever dyed my hair blue."

"This is really more of a teal-ish green, noona!" Taehyung tries to argue, and I scoff.

"Fine," he relents and mumbles under his breath, "Should have brought my paint swatches." After taking a sip of his drink, he switches gears, “Never have I ever wanted to date a frat boy?”

I sip my drink. He immediately demands clarification. I grin, “Those EXO boys are fine.”

His jaw clenches. Ooh, he does not like that answer.

“EXO?” he snarls, "Over my dead body."

My eyebrow quirks up, “Well, that's a bit dramatic. They seem like nice boys.”

"Nice boys?" Taehyung cocks his head, "Noona, those aren't your type."

He's right. I push him further, “And what is my type then, Tae?”

“Boys that challenge you.”

He’s right again, but I’d rather not give him the satisfaction of knowing it. His ego is already inflated enough. I smile inwardly and say, “You think you have me all figured out, Kim.”

Taehyung surprises me as he breaks into a loud laugh, “No, not even close. But I’m a persistent boy so maybe I’ll get there one day.”

Just then I realize how close to one another we’ve gotten. Our sides are touching, and his hand has apparently been gripping my thigh for who knows how long. I stare at it, examining the adorning rings on his pointer and index fingers.

Are those fucking Gucci?

He must notice my gaze on his hand because he squeezes my thigh, and I smily at him. “I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

Taehyung looks at me like I’m something precious, something divine. I want to shatter that image. I want to ruin it. I want to ruin him.

“Taehyung?”

“Yes, noona?”

“Kiss me.” And he does.

Taehyung kisses me over and over. I’m honestly a bit overwhelmed it. His mouth is tender on mine, and with every exhale, he lets out the slightest moan, which almost seems like a plea for more.

He’s gentler than I remember. His mouth is warm and soft; his caresses are leisurely and unhurried.

I pull back slightly to look him in his eyes. They are dazed, unfocused.

My lips brush his ear as I whisper, “Be a good boy and meet me in the bathroom in two minutes.”

With that, I saunter away towards the back bathroom which usually tends to be cleaner due to its slightly hidden nature.

Knocking on the door, I strain my ears for any sign of a reply. Nothing. I enter the dim room and immediately catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

My hair is everywhere, and I immediately grab the hair-tie around my wrist.

I pause, a sinful idea coming to mind.

A knock sounds. “Noona?” A deep voice calls, and I open the door, grab Tae by the collar, and tug him inside.

“Noona, you’re feisty tonight I-” I cut him off with my mouth.

I don’t hesitate as my mouth consumes his and my body presses him against the wall. My tongue finds his as my hips grind into him. He whimpers, and it’s such a beautiful sound.

After feeling him throb through his clothes, the thought I had earlier returns.

Stepping back, I grab my hair-tie and tug my hair up into a ponytail. Taehyung whines as I slowly sink to my knees before him, “Jesus, fuck.”

“Is this okay?” I question, gazing up at the beautiful boy above me, “Do you want my mouth, baby?”

“Shit, yeah,” Taehyung wraps my ponytail in his hand and lightly pulls me closer.

Does he think he’s suddenly in charge?

I flick open his belt before tugging his pants down. His cock strains against his silky black boxers and I give into the temptation to suck on it through the fabric.

“F-fuck, please, noona,” the stuttered curse comes from above, and I smile.

I pull his boxers down, grasping his cock and stroking lightly.

And, without warning, I take the head of his cock in my mouth and suck. “Goddamn,” Tae hisses, fingers sliding into my hair. He pulls my hair-tie out and replaces its hold with his fist.

I take him as far as I can, blowing him and stroking the parts of his cock I can’t get to with my mouth.

“Shit, fuck, please,” he begs, looking down at me with wild eyes and a fucked out expression, “Don’t stop, (y/n).”

Stop? Never. The power trip is too delicious.

My mouth bobs on his cock as he bucks, trying to fuck my mouth. My hands grab his ass to control his movements as I slide my mouth off of him.

“Do you want to come in my mouth, baby?” I tilt my head to the side as one of my hands resumes its ministrations.

“Y-yes,” The boy gasps above me, his breath coming in pants, “Please, I’m so close, noona.”

“Hmm, are you going to be my good boy, Taehyung-ie?” My hand halts, and he whines, his hips straining to keep moving in my hand. I squeeze him, “Well?”

“Yes!” He moans, repeating, “I’m your good boy. I’m noona’s good boy.”

“That’s what I thought.” My mouth closes around his cock again and sucks him hard.

“Fuck.” I watch enraptured as Taehyung’s head falls back against the wall, and then he’s coming.

His body convulses above me as I swallow ever last bit of him. After he finishes, I pull my mouth away to kiss the underside of his cock, his balls, the insides of his thighs. Above me, he’s muttering my name like a prayer.

“You can let go of my hair now, Tae,” I laugh, my voice slightly hoarse. Reaching up, I lightly tug his hold from me and slide my discarded hair-tie off of his wrist. Standing, I pull my hair up into a messy bun and turn to face him.

He’s tugging his pants up and staring at me with a darkening expression, his nostrils flared. “Let me taste you, noona. Ride my face.” The tenor of his voice washes over me, tempting me with its rough words.

“You haven’t earned that yet.” I start towards the door, but Taehyung darts in front of it, effectively cutting me off.

“I just want to please you, babe. Come on,” his begging only solidifies my resolve.

“You already have pleased me, Tae,” I swipe a thumb across his cheek as he pouts.

“But I could please you even more with my mouth!”

This boy. I grab his neck lightly, “Listen, baby, I’m going to say this once. When I ride your face, you’ll be tied up across my bed at my mercy. Got it?”

His body becomes pliant under my words and my light grip. I gently shift him out of the way of the exit. “Now, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon, my good boy.”

The parting smile I send him is absolutely lethal, and it only grows bigger when I hear him blurt out a grumbled “holy fuck” as I strut away from him.

a/n: yeeeeeee things are really heating up *fans self* hope y’all liked it!! ALSO, s/o to tay aka @loveejoon for being featured UWU

taglist: @catsandstrawberries @h5naaa @meowmeowyoongles @leftflowerprunedonut @rjsmochii @athletes-of-god @karissassirak @cage7241 @weallhavesecretsinthebestway @cvbachacbitch @honeyspillings @valiantcollectorofsandwiches @fivesecondsofsarang @oii-f-eli-x2 @joonsroses @theevilyouknow @jooniescupcakes @expensive-grl @i-dont-even-know-fck @doingmybestalltheftime @elraeee @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh @laced-brds @aokay1010 @breeeeh17 @lpayne612 @peachyharmoney @rilakoya @chulchuchi @tabula-rasa0 @guccishookv @nomimits7 @i-like-puppy-mg @s-noir @anna-sorel @im-a-space-child @yeontanismypresident @drowning-in-oxygen @team-wang-puppy @lvvegood @anongirl007 @may114 @r-e-d-i-s-h @unatempesta-dipensieri @dragon-rider-with-a-book @blueberrygeniejam @wondrsblog @heterophobez @vi-hoshi @kirbykook @blu-butterfly69 @katemwatson @kawaiikpoplover268 @amsteramyy @sami4life @a-feeling-of-euphoria @the-jackals @bubbletae7 @platinum-grenade @bunnyboyenthusiast @brightly-byun @oofmeintheheadpls @sadboibts @lidda @goldenwidow3 @t-mel19 @lmkjimin @psiphidragon @jeon-joker @sathom013 @lustremyg @ggsmashgg @justyouraveragerandomblog @shadowstark @our-little-meow-meow @baby-hobii @toddsgirl27 @mythicalmeep @asifetch7 @kassandravictoria @eltrain80 @briannasthings @quotedcryptid @bumblekey93 @ohmwreckr @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @softchimmee @kookoo-kachoo @lenuminous @ass-hole-in-one @peaches-422 @queen-of--roses

#bangtanhq #btswritingcafe #btswriterscollective #bangtanarmynet #ficswithluv #kwritersworldnet #hyunglinenetwork #180knet #btsbookclub #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts x reader #bts smut #ot7 x reader #poly bts

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ryoryeonggu · 5 years ago

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Okay, I’ve just finished 13 reasons why in one day. Despite everything people else have to say, I love it ♥♥♥ I love it so much ♥♥♥ I had planned to finish it as soon as possible, but when it’s truly over, my heart’s really crushing because from now on, I have to let it go forever :( I will miss this show so much along with all the characters (even those ones I once hated so much like Bryce and Monty)

Let me talk about a few thing I love and also leave me heartbroken in this season:

First of all, Clay. Ofc, people tend to say he’s annoying, but I really love him, knowing all of his flaws and his mistakes. He’s sometimes aggressive, he’s sometimes too controlling and overreacting and has hero complex. He’s an idiot. But all I have seen is a boy who cares too much about the others and it finally breaks and destroys him. He always is the one who protects, the one taking care of others, so when of course, he also had his own problems, he had his own issues, so people tended to not likely notice that or help him like the way he helped them because he’s supposed to be strong one, and he also wanted to be strong for his friends so he rarely let it out. And don’t forget he’s having very serious mental illness (I don’t believe that’s only depression and anxiety, it could be also schizophrenia or dissociative identity disorder, since he has illusion of Hannah way before Monty and Bryce “ghosts” tortured him). And not only his friends and his family hardly recognized his issues, a lot of people in fandom kinda are ignoring it as well. Despite how he acted or what he had done was right or wrong, he had tried and done a lot of people, like not for him, a lot of people would have ended up dead or worse. Because of Clay and his courage, Tyler would have become a school shooter and suicide, the rape case of Hannah and Jessica would have remained in silence, Justin would never have found a home and been happy and had a chance to become a better person, Alex would have killed himself again out of guilt… and the most important thing, they wouldn’t been friends and stayed strong together like the ending. So, to me, Clay is still the greatest friend that no one could ever be and I adore him with all my heart. And I can see myself in him: a kid with anxiety and depression that love living with fantasies, trying so hard to be strong, to be a good person and a good friend, and thinking that I could never love anyone and no one could ever love me back.

Then Alex. My favorite of my favorite character in this show. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting anything good happened to him in this season. But turns out, it was even so much better that what I had been imagining. He’s still sad and depressing, he still thought low of himself and blamed himself for everything, thought he was not good enough. But he found love, and was happy. And they really make him BI! Like, I was hoping it but I never thought they would really do it. And he kissed three guys, and I ship it all lol.

About Zalex, honestly, I never really shipped it until season 4 came out. From what I saw, I believe Alex did have real feelings for Zach and this kiss really meant something, for both of them. The way Zach didn’t pull away from the kiss, the way he asked Winston that if he really was in love with Alex or what he saw in him (like a jealous idiot), the way he corrected Alex right away (in front of Alex’s BOYFRIEND lol) that that kiss wasn’t a disaster at all, his sad look watching Alex and Charlie holding hands, yeah, not mention “why are you with me but not with Charlie?”. So from all of that, I don’t think that feeling was only one-sided. But like everything else happened in Zach’s life, when his life got shit, especially when it came to love, Zach tended to be a coward and did everything to hide from his own feeling and his complicated situation. Like in this season, the way he used alcohols and casually having sex – not giving a shit about anything like the way to hide from his problems, instead of actually dealing with the problems. Like he lose Hannah because of it. And now he also lost the chance to be with Alex. I think in the end, he did realize that he had feelings with Alex too, but it was way too late. And I also believe that Alex will always love him, like the way he also love Charlie. You can love both, if you believe or not.

A lot of people say that if Alex had been there and had helped Zach like the Zach had done to him in season 2, Zalex could have been ended up with each other and had been endgame. But, no, I don’t think it will. Alex chose to be with Charlie is the best and realistic choice, because Charlie was good for him. Yeah, Zach was depressed with trauma, in the deepest ship of his life and he needed helps, ofc, but so did Alex. Don’t forget Alex in this season wasn’t in the better situation to help anyone, he murdered someone and blamed himself so much for everything was happening, and he was also really self-loathing like Zach was. So he needed someone, like Charlie, someone’s positive, confident and had healthy energy, someone who made him feel he was loved, he was taken care of, and someone would be able to remind him everyday that he’s worth being loved and deserved all the happiness in the world. Not a mirror to see how fucked up and destructive he was like Zach. All Alex’s life problems was trying to be tough, to be man up to be able to take care of and be with a girl; and with Charlie, he didn’t have to do it anymore. He was safe, he was loved, and he was happy. Alex loved Zach, but sometimes, love isn’t the answer. Sometimes you have to choose what’s good for you, so despite it wasn’t built up as deep as Zalex, the relationship between Alex and Charlie was still one of the best relationships in the show and I love it. Alex and Zach clearly was in love with each other, but they just miss the right time and now it’s only regrets. And moreover, even also in the messy shit of his own head, except the coach and sometimes Charlie, Alex was the only one who tried to help Zach and never gave up on him. In fact, those words from Alex about how he helped him and made him feel safe was one of the major effects that brought Zach back to life.

The same goes with Winston and Alex, another “what we could have been but it was too late”, they just met in the wrong time and the wrong circumstance then lost each other forever. But I do believe that their feelings was genuine, even it’s only for some short of time (at least from Winston, since he dropped his revenge which he was obsessed with the entire time all just for Alex, how sweet).

And Justin!!! OMG Justin!!! My heart really ached so much with all the scenes he’s in hospital. Not only because Clay lost a brother, another important person in his life, their group lost a very good friend, but also the most hurting part, that he could have gone to the college, he could have had a future, he could finally have had a good life, but then it was completely wrecked in one go (especially right in the moment he was finally happy and had everything that he had ever wanted). I almost cried when he said he’s scared (we should have known since the show dropped a number of time Justin kept saying he wanted to be live, how fucked up and depressing it is) and wanted Clay to hold his hand. Even Clay acting like a dick and pushing Justin away a lot, the bromance between them was still the best and the most memorable one (and now thinking about it only wanted me to punch my chest so hard and cried). Life is fucking not fair and he definitely deserves so much better.

And finally Ani. She actually grew on me in this season since the last season she annoyed me so much. I like how she finally admitted that she was wrong when he slept with Bryce and finally apologized to Jessica about it (which really made it up to the whole shitty storyline of her in the previous season). I love how Clay and her finally broke up and admitted to each other that they were not fit and weren’t ready to be in any relationship (f**k thanks god, finally, because they was never fit, like at all). And I also like the way she always got Jessica’s back and was there for her everytime (I even almost ship them with the scene Ani asked Jess to go to Prom with her, it’s so adorable ♥♥♥)

And I love Tony, I love Tyler, I love Jess... basically I love everyone ♥ ♥ ♥

Okay “my thumbs got tired”. I would probably write another essay about what I love about this series, someday, probably.

#13 reasons why #13rw #13reasonswhy #clay jensen #Alex Standall #justin foley #ani achola #winston williams #charlie st. george #zalex #alex x winston #charlie x alex #alex x charlie #winston x alex #sorry i don't know what the fuck the other ships's name so I just let it that way #zach dempsey

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 5 years ago

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Witcher of the Night (Chapter 18)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

UPDATES FOR WITCHER OF THE NIGHT WILL BE PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY NOW IN MY TIME (GMT +8)

CHAPTER 17

WOTN MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: The Djinn effects had reasons. A miracle for the Witcher but a threat for everyone in the Continent and this mystery had you placed under a curse that will give you bad fortune for you future and a child that he sorceress plans on ruining.

Warnings: Mention of MCU. Iron man too. Blood. Witcher monster and sign. Curse words and degrading ones. Corporal punishment said and involved.

Words: 8.4k+

A/N: Ghost readers, please do reblog my fic if you’re reading this so others can see it as well. Also people who are in my taglist, I hope you leave even just an emoji of feedback or reblog if you’re done reading. I appreciate the tiniest dot of comment ISTG. I’ve been in a writer’s block (and also mentally exhausted from writing too) but I’m trying my best to give y’all content or an update for WOTN. My mind has been jumping from one character over another so feedback will be nice to receive. Thank you and stay safe.

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue! PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK AFTER READING, BB! This is kinda a rough draft. I apologize for many errors, this has been a result of fast editing.

Disclaimer: PNG’s and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and this fanfic is definitely from moi.

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

The Kaedwenians had the last laugh.

Jaskier couldn't keep you safe from anyone, not even a tiny fly. All he could do was be a distraction and be the special wingman for a witcher. But, when it's about protecting the ones he takes care of, Geralt has always been the answer to keep one safe---that he couldn't even take care of himself when he's caught in his shenanigans and monkey businesses.

His mutant friend could always be counted on, by hook or by crook.

Yet, he certainly will disappoint him when he knows what threat and problems happened after a day; only a darn day that he was away and kidnapping arose and hindered everything that the witcher wanted to avoid.

How did they know where his family even were?

Jaskier was limping alongside with Cirilla who has hauled him on her side, an arm slithering over his waist to drag him to where the dining chairs where. One out of ten? hence, this particular sunflower surrounded by a bunch of poison Ivy has been a bard all along.

Sunflowers don't have thorns nor poison. They were harmless. Soft. Bright. Just like him. But, the bees surely did its attack considering how he'd sliced two men on their necks. Nonetheless, it wasn't enough to keep you out of harm.

"Those bloody knights did a number on me!" he suddenly exclaimed out of nowhere; wincing and grumbling out profanities from his wounds as Cirilla went around to grab onto an empty pail, sprinting straight out to quickly come back with her bucket full of water for the bard.

Dried up blood designed his busted lip; plump and ruptured from the constant clouts he'd received. His lower lip were out in a pout, frowning his way from lightly tapping his wounds with a clean cloth; holding up a small mirror to his face. Disheveled doublet untied, the collar of his inner white tunic being a sketchpad of a kid who loved his red paint. Another nasty curse accidentally slipped out of his broken lip when Cirilla loudly dropped the bucket on the table with an obvious sight of panic, fright and anger written on her face.

Her thin, candle-like fingers slightly trembled from the handle and Jaskier had gotten a glimpse out of her fear, terrified for an important person in her life to be in the brink of death. Again. She didn't want it to happen especially when the princess has finally found comfort and light from you; like how her heart hoped to meet a woman who she could treat as her rightful mother.

She didn't want you to die; not like this, never. If only you could live long enough, longer than a normal human then it would be a part of her wishes.

"W-Will she be okay, Jaskier?"

Jaskier was hissing as he tried to take off his doublet. In his unfortunate case, he'd probably earned a fracture or two over his ribs and arm. But, it was far from any organ that will give him demise. He'd thought about it again before deliberating on leaving it on to continue patting the blood off his face, "No. I swear to the death of Valdomarx that the rat will not be fine in their hands, Princess Cirilla."

The bard went on in jawing away over his thoughts with some painful complaining here and there as he tried to wipe the blood off his face with a heavy amount of strength used because of how his arms were sore and aching, "Ow-ow-ow! Geralt needs to give what they want. However, going to the south swamps will be the only solution to alert the witcher,"

Jaskier tutted in exasperation when his dampened cloth grazed through the wound, making him sigh and close his eyes to calm down. The child has done the same, copying his reaction before reaching out to grab onto the cloth and tried cleaning his wounds for herself. He bellyached away over how she's been cleaning the wrong places but a simple sharp, warning of her blue eyes kept the toubadour fidgeting from the child care.

"It's been how many hours already since she was taken?" he sounded incoherent from trying to talk with his mouth never closing as Cirilla tried to pat over the pillows of his lips. She made him repeat his question, moving away from him to dip the cloth inside the bucket and squeezing the excess water out.

When she'd heard him repeat it much clearer this time, she thought for a second before turning her heel to face him again, raising a finger to show him the time it took.

"An hour or two."

He weakly nodded more to himself. The accident was utterly fresh inside their minds and Jaskier couldn't help but worry as the clock ticks by because he knew and understood that the people in their world were more cruel and grating to be with than in your kingdom that you have lived in for years, the bard was anxiously bouncing his leg up and down with his thoughts and solutions going in places.

"We can't go to where Geralt is tomorrow," he noted as a matter of fact, pausing to glare at Cirilla who leaned close and started caring for his wounds with heavy hands, "---all we can ever hope for is wait for the gods plan. Hush now, princess."

In Cirilla's point of view, hearing his response drove her bananas. They just couldn't wait for Geralt to arrive when he'll be taking up three days before telling him what has happened. What if you were already being punished because of their false accusations about you? Geralt's child of surprise has heard everything. Even from the time that the troopers has been kicking up a fuss over the woman named Savia that looked entirely like you.

She'd even saw the fight between Kolby; seeing him run away so suddenly broke her heart as much as yours did. Will he ever come back? the princess thought at the back of her mind from overrating. Will you ever come back to their lives again or will Geralt be too late to save you from their dirty hands?

The lion cub of Cintra has pulled away from treating Jaskier's wounds, straightening her back when she began to let the negative thoughts go to her head.

"How about Kolby? I---I've seen him run away!"

Jaskier grabbed the cloth out of her hands, trying to sanitize his wounds instead. He'd tightly blinked his eyes, the left side utterly benumbed from their sucker-punches and he knew a black eye would come forth soon whether he likes it or not. The bard wasn't even on an adventure with the witcher, yet why has there been an incident where he'd been belaboured till he was bleeding with a hobble.

"He'll come back, dearest Cirilla. We can only hope for the best and also for Geralt to do his witchering---the heightened senses, I mean. Do you think his hearing can reach from here?"

They've been surrounded by silence after that. It was already morning by the time that Cirilla has successfully helped the bard to his feet, earning minutes of pure inveighs against what they've done and why Geralt decided to leave earlier than they have arrived. Their house was left as it is and it seemed like the only job that they needed to do was hold you ransom for what they wanted from the witcher because they knew what was happening beyond the four corners of their house.

The Kaedwednians have acted like they knew you were important to their family; beneficial to be taken for hostage and a crucial person for Geralt that would make him cave in to their desires.

Hence, they probably were right when Jaskier and Cirilla has heard the fast, pitter-patters of a horse from a distance; riding towards the house in a canter. Geralt's family looked at each other with knowing faces before Cirilla's face fell from thinking about the pessimist side of her head.

"I--I hear galloping!" she exclaimed before Jaskier noted the pale look of her lips like she has been thrown a bucket of ice on her head, "---What if its them again?" her lips began to tremble this time with a high pitch tone that says she was nervous and scared because she wasn't ready yet.

"What if they're back to capture me this time?"

They have been living in a world that scares her and when the right time comes, Geralt promised to take her where she'll be trained better to become like him for when danger and chaos tries to make them stay, the princess will know how to defend herself from the risks and threats. But, the witcher would still protect her no matter what happens because it is his duty and also because she has already been an adopted daughter to him. A daughter that he cherishes despite acting cold and dispassionate about the idea.

You knew she was important to him, a daughter that he somehow cared for from the moment they met. Geralt has told you this in the middle of the night, trying to tell you stories as he slept, managing to ask him about Cirilla and how she was involved in his life. The witcher never did plan it along but their destiny has made it happen for them to meet. She was the girl in the woods that people have been telling him about and the law of surprise that he has given voice that had you in awe because their world consists of beliefs and preternatural principles that never existed on earth.

Jaskier felt like his whole body grow numb and forgotten what the pain that the cavaliers has inflicted upon him when he suddenly stood up, apprehensively grabbing onto Cirilla's shoulders and looking around to find her somewhere to hide.

The heavy set of footfall started to tread near, out of the threshold of their front entry. With a swollen face and bloody clothes, he grabbed onto her wrist and tried to pull her out of the kitchen and onto the back door of their house with a need to keep another person safe and away from danger. They've already taken you and Cirilla was out of bounds.

"No. No. That can't happen. They have no idea who you are. Run in the woods. Away from here, alright? Don't worry, I'll get to find you---Geralt will find you again, I promise you---has he taught you little tricks here and there? If not---"

The loud crash of a door opening has got Jaskier in full-protective mode; pulling along Cirilla to stand behind him with a hand outstretched open in front of him to tell this person to stop from their attacks. Until they've seen a person whom they were praying to the gods appear before them utterly shambolic to their shock.

"Geralt?! Oh dear, gods! What happened?!" Jaskier yelled out loud, their breaths hitching from the picture that stood before them.

Geralt's ruined armor was off; keeping the black under tunic on that has been torn with holes. The openings held blood under the apertures of his ravaged shirt. His face seeming to be the only one left untouched from the burns and wounds. His hair was dirty from soot and darkened, moist like sand but his breeches has been surprisingly free from the scratches that his upper clothing has received from.

Cirilla couldn't help but feel the warm, hazy moisture of her eyes fill her vision from seeing him stand in the middle of their hatch, the fish bones that stuck inside her chest finally breaking free from Geralt's appearance because hope has arrived for them.

"Geralt! You're here!"

The latter couldn't believe his eyes. They were safe. His family was safe from the show that the Kaedwenians tried to scurry them off with.

Relief washed through Geralt, his Aureate peepers widened from being stunned at seeing them both.

"Jaskier. Cirilla. You're both okay." he stated in a monotone manner, his gaze examining their forms when he'd realized Jaskier has been beaten to pulp.

The hold on his sword that rested on his palms tightened from seeing red. If there was blood involved, then something bad has happened especially when he'd lately realized that his family was missing one special person that came with the ménage he had.

You. There was no midget. Were you just hiding in a corner? Trying to be playful like the person you are? Where you hiding upstairs and planning to surprise him?

Jaskier paid heed to his sudden silence, the peeved look within his eyes that held a flicker of catastrophe because he couldn't see his midget with them.

He didn't know nor realize that seeing you gone like you never existed felt like an Nightwraith has tried to rip his heart open and eat it to their satiation.

Cirilla sprinted to where Geralt stood, immediately wrapping her arms around her step-father that she also holds dearly till the moment; she'd hug him, the embrace simply an allegation of fear, telling him that it was the right thing to come back earlier than they expected him to.

"I'm so glad you're here!"

The witcher wholeheartedly accepted the embrace, patting her head that was shoved to his chest despite of the wounds he has; just thoroughly relieved that she wasn't taken. His sword fell on the side with a loud thud as he'd look away from Jaskier, his eyes shifting from high and low, finding the Hirikka not in his place under the dining table as well.

"The midget? where is she?"

Howbeit, knowing the answer. He still wanted to hear what happened from the poor bard.

Jaskier subtly coughed, alerting that his tale was ready to be told. But, Cirilla has cut him off with her voice bawling out to Geralt, frowning against his chest as she loudly sniffed. The tears in her eyes dripping down as she couldn't help but keep the emotions balled up inside her chest anymore. Shock. Fear. Worry. Care. All together, it was brought and made with tears.

"Th-they've...they've taken her away from us! She saved my life for the second time, Geralt! You owe her everything!"

Geralt didn't answer at that and just patted her braided hair to soothe her worries---her braided hair that you have fixed before being taken. He was already too maddened on the inside to even hear that Jaskier began to start his story.

"So, do you want a simplified version or the dramatic one? I hear you choose the second option, so here it is!"

Cirilla sobbed against his chest when Jaskier started. His thoughts was filled with you. He was angry, irritated and dumbfounded that you've been offering your life in exchange for Cirilla to be safe. You always did. Hence, he didn't know if he was thankful of your selflessness or utterly vexed from how kind you were at heart.

"Fuck." he whispered to himself, Jaskier's voice going on and on in the background as if it was their music, his next words sounding exasperated as he simply sighed out of his nose and closed his eyes in frustration.

"---Midget..."

Jaskier was unaware that Geralt wasn't listening to his nonsense blabbers until he got straight to the point. He'd even told him how he rearranged and hid the bowls where you couldn't find it which made the witcher give him a simple raise of his brow.

Cirilla cut the hug when she was feeling dandy enough. Geralt gave her one final reassuring and affectionate pat on the head before grabbing on his fallen sword with a scowl on his face as he listened to Jaskier run his mouth.

"---So, I've been punched in the gut from different kind of Cavaliers. The Kingdom of Kaedwen can suck my arse---I've learned that from the rat by the way---and I've bled to the end of my second life. Hence now, this is my third---Hallelujah!---Kolby listens and follows every command but he's gone now and we don't know where he is---even tried to save me and her but the vampire is too strong---not that it isn't surprising,"

The simple action of grabbing onto his sword inflicted pain onto the fairly large wound on his lower rib which made him hiss. It was from the burning blood of the Bloedzuiger that he somehow managed to not shield himself with; forgetting to use Quen in the midst of battling.

"Tybalt." he understood completely, knowing exactly who tried and planned to get you from him for their use. They still haven't found the witch and needed to find her as soon as possible. Geralt wandered over the kitchen, closing the door behind him as he lowly grumbled to no one in particular.

"---They still want me to lift the curse. They want me to kill their monster,"

Their ears perk from the admission; watching the witcher peel his damaged under tunic off with an aggravated sigh as he stood in front of the dining table. He'd taken a lot more injuries than he most likely does; even had his energy spike to its lowest due to wanting to get the job done in less than half an hour. Hence, this resulted in accepting more wounds and detriments by rushing the whole task.

Geralt has already taken potions for him to heal on the way. Some of the smallest wounds has been healed. Though, the deepest wounds did not yet. It would certainly earn him a scar or two from it but he never cared.

"You're bleeding, Geralt. Where are you going?" Jaskier sauntered to his side with a wince from seeing more blood than what he normally sees, Cirilla also pulled a face and watched the witcher heavily sigh from examining his opened wounds. He deeply had a grimace on his face as he does when he tried to explain.

"It's from the Bloedzuiger's blood," he gruffly muttered, only answering the troubadour's first question.

His talkative friend circled around him to be met with the nastiest laceration that he has seen. Jaskier's nose scrunched in repugnance from what stood before him for the first time in years, "You've never taken enough damage like this before," he claimed as a matter of fact; in deep conjecture as to why he seemed to be in adrift prior to his hunt.

Geralt's attention was solely on the gash that could make him lowly groan in the back of his throat; rough and sounding uncomfortable from the pain it was giving.

"Jaskier, stay with Cirilla. Keep hidden and never go out until I come back with the midget," he gruffly started when the princess has rushed upstairs to find gauze to help with his lesions.

The Weccan leaned over the table, his palms on either side; flat on their wooden dining table with his ruffled hair framing his features and his head bowed down as he deeply pondered, his worries all about you because they've kept you ensnared. They knew he would come for you. They knew they will be expecting a witcher to welcome and they were right.

"---we can't leave the midget within their reach. They'll know her existence---Ingrith of Helmfirth already knows her existence,"

The bard's eyebrows were knitted tightly together in confusion for what he has heard, stammering from all the questions inside his head that kept on bothering him. He leaned on the table beside Geralt, bright blue eyes inquisitive and confused, "What? how---how did you even know she was gone? I thought you didn't know the sorceress?"

"The Djinn placed the midget and I in a spell where I can feel what she feels and I knew she was in danger,"

Jaskier gave a hesitant nod, deliberating over what he's trying to figure out from all the phenomenon that he has encountered, "Like some curse?"

Geralt shot his head up to nonchalantly give him a glimpse of his convinced golden peepers, pursing his lips, looking away to stand straight and lean away from the table.

"If you put it that way, we can call it a curse then."

The white wolf left Jaskier in the kitchen and drifted towards the stairs, making him trail behind; walking with a phrase of protests over the half naked witcher taking his flight.

"We need to treat those wounds before you step foot in the castle, Geralt."

There was no need to beat behind the bushes in Geralt's protective instincts. Specifically when you were in a risk to be hurt by their filthy hands. He took the staircases with his heavy footfall, roughly reassuring the bard from his worries.

"Already did. I'll be fine, bard."

Once they've reached the second floors, all wounded and bloody; both Geralt and Jaskier, they stood in the middle of the wooden hallways. Eye to eye as they were having a serious talk. Their voices echoing all over the place, "She saved Cirilla's life for the second time around," Geralt huffed and gave one seething sigh when the pain on his lower rib was burning. He certainly needed them to gauze his wounds before leaving.

"---even helped you forget about that knight you were fond with. I need to save her,"

Jaskier's mouth fell open from his bluntness, believing that you have been used as a person to forget his previous ones. He'd wiggled those slim shoulders of his, hands on his hips and keeping his head held high. A fake cough left his lips, thinking of ways to get back from being attacked figuratively by Geralt for a lot of times already.

"I won't let another slip away again, Jaskier."

Jaskier raised a knowing brow, sharing a bloody compact with the witcher as they stood against each other dripping with their own wounds and blood; an understanding that they both could only comprehend and would silently agree to, "I understood Durriken now," he gave a firm nod, convincing himself for his sentences.

Geralt squinted his eyes back at the bard, judging him from the back of his head and reading between his lines.

Jaskier talked to Durriken when they've left the other day. He tried to know what they've talked about because the bard was full aware of how the switch has turned inside Geralt's peculiar, introverted mind from that moment in the marketplace.

Durriken knew before everything could even happen---perks of being a fortune teller, believing that you had a reason why you've arrived.

Jaskier raised a finger to his front, a sassy brow raised as he firmly claimed, "She's the witcher's destiny. The reason she's here is because..." pause. "---of you, Geralt."

Julian just couldn't keep still and watch everything unfold. He knew Geralt and what ticks him, understood the simplest gestures that had a whole lot of meaning behind it. Jaskier can't help but pry around when it involved the white wolf.

This was why he was the bard who stood by his side because he tried to understand him for who and what he was. A person who truly cared, a friend who truly accepted him; though, most of the times, he was there to annoy the shite out of him.

"And that's why she needs to be saved. I can't let her die, Bard." Geralt honestly spoke, the truth being said rather than staying silent like how he would usually do.

The bard has given him a satisfied smile, his beam widening once he jested, "Oooooooh! I've waited for this moment to come so I can finally say it after decades---In other words," he playfully bantered, finding the right words to get back for receiving his bluntness, "---you love her, Witcher. Don't you?"

Cirilla held the ripped, long, white clothing to her chest. The door to her room slightly opened as she tried to listen onto what they were arguing about, they weren't. The word 'love' peaking her attention when Jaskier lightly tried to poke on Geralt's honesty, irking him to the bones and hoping to get something out of his sudden uprightness.

Lo and behold, as soon as the witcher opened his pretty mouth, they were left disappointed from a hum that he'd habitually does everyday when he wanted to stay silent.

"Hmm."

Retrieving no answer from such an important, scandalous question that would be a fact once it was positively answer; a simple 'yes' would've been evidence that the white haired witcher was actually capable to experience a certain feeling that would make him more human than he can ever be.

All you could see was darkness. No visions nor imagery of where you were going as an empty sack has been forcefully placed around your head. Tybalt has kept you immobilized within his arms that surrounded you. The sack was needed so there was no risk of escaping which can happen if you knew your ways just like their previous capture who happened to be a thief that knew the directions of the kingdom.

The sack was tightened around your neck, making you choke once they roughly shoved your shoulders to move as you were curtly placed down by the vampire. Pavement. Rock pavement. You silently thought as you felt rough hands grip your arms so tight. On either side, they were controlling you and assuming who they were; you knew it was cavaliers.

The gates seem to open as you've heard the loud screeching of a sound. A couple of harsh tugs; here and there. Some offending remarks you've received when you tried to thrash against their holds. They were calling you 'the witcher's whore' or his tramp that made you frown behind the empty sack of potatoes used for your head.

Footfalls can be heard all around you. They were everywhere and all heavy, marching as if they have a purpose as to why they were there. There was no idea as to where they tried to confine you; in a large cage? a building where all their prisoners are there in jail? or were you in a castle? their palace?

The men on either side of you dragged you strengthfully towards where they wanted; making you bark back despite of being temporarily blind for their purpose.

"I know how to walk, okay?! Stop dragging me around like I'm your rag doll!"

Tybalt loudly scoffed from behind, walking through the stoned hallway that directed straight towards the hoosegow where an Elven has been kept for a month, "Prisoners shan't be complaining, ye' know?"

A loud thump and squeaking of a door made you hastily look around in panic; thinking that you might be thrown in a huge fireplace so your body can be burnt to dust because they knew your existence here didn't actually existed and if you do get to be cremated, nobody would even care.

Will Geralt try and save you for the third time?

From the day that you have been taken and cared for in their home, it was already an act of protection. He didn't think twice to adopt and let you have a part of their house; saving you from an Alghoul who was hunting you down and planning to make you its meal. But, Geralt killed it for you.

The white wolf has even killed men for you to feel sympathy for. When Geralt of Rivia protects one person, he would surely not think twice but to put an end towards their life; as long as they were evil or hurting another.

He was one of a kind and the affection you have for him needed label. You were understanding everything now; the care and worry you feel whenever he goes for his hunt, how the sting feels inside your heart whenever he tends to become a lot more quieter rather than usual, thinking that he was avoiding you because he'd realize how much of a burden you are in his life.

Also considering the feeling of happiness whenever he sweetly touches you, feeling his skin on yours like it was destined for sensations to occur. Sensations that only he can transpire out the the earth's perimeters.

You comprehended it very patently. It was love that you had for him. You hoped it was because lust or infatuation never has given the effects like what you've been interpreting from the witcher.

No secrets can't be revealed as long as it was true especially with undisclosed matters. Hence, you planned to tell Geralt as soon as you get to see him again.

That is, if your future around the Kaedwenians won't involve you and death rolled together as one.

Their tight grip has made your arms sore. You were flailing your arms away from their grasp and the violent reaction that they have gotten from resulted in you being pushed to the ground, creating your healing gash with another deep wound that made you yelp. They've quickly yanked the sack off your head; all unkempt from being cramped, hurriedly keeping you inside the slammer as they marched away to lock up the thick, metal railings like you've committed such a harsh crime.

You've held onto your scrapped knee, seeing blood on the pads of your finger and it made you aggressively scream from where you've laid hunched over the cold stones beneath you; igniting the tiny, surprised jump from the knights who were guarding your cell.

The tight coil on the top of your stomach was starting to move; meaning to say, another panic-attack was starting to give rise because of how uncomfortable and eerie does it felt to be in jail from the past era. It was more ominous and uncanny rather than what jail looked like in the modern period.

You were heaving breaths, turning around and staying flat on your bottom to see the armored men squinting their eyes back like you were some weird creature, the notion of being Geralt's lover sickening their bones as if they were much of a better man than he is. They weren't. Geralt was better than them---soul-wise. Their gauging eyes made you giggle aloud in a sarcastic tone.

"I can't believe you are all actually humans---"

The lock of the door jiggled, people behind the entrance loudly pushing it open; in which Tybalt and a lady with glowing purple eyes emerged from the hatch.

"My lady," Tybalt started with a sultry tone dripping on his tongue, subtly nodding his head off to where you were hunched over.

This woman in front of you didn't look entirely human after all, you mentally thought. Glowing purple eyes; with her shoulders rolled back with a head held up high, such stance that made her look powerful. It was enough to make you cower.

She was a beauty even. Utterly bewitching from a woman's perspective. A high bridged nose, glassy dark skinned complexion that came with a pouty lip. The grotesque woman was enchanting in the eyes of men if her physical aspects could make you dumbfounded.

"Incredible." the latter spoke in fascination, taking heedful steps close amongst the lines of metal hinges. The luminescence of a torch has caught her purple eyes, glowing against the light as if magic was flowing through her veins; utterly strange because no normal human had eyes like hers, nor have you seen one in Geralt's dimension up until today.

"Another...you," she continued, her eyes cast upon you when she took heed of your familiar face.

"---It's true. There has always been another dimension,"

You've looked around, avoiding her discretionary gaze, a gaze that held corruption or malign beneath the colorful hue of her beautiful colored irises. They were winsome; however, her allurement came with a thorn that would surely make you bleed when touched.

"I'm..I'm not---"

Straightforwardly, she pointed out with a silent and warning tut, "There is no use of lying, little one. You are talking to a sorceress,"

As that has been mentioned, you couldn't help but snap your head and turn to look at her. Your eyebrows knitted together with eyes scrutinizing her features. Was she the sorceress that Geralt has been in love with? you questioned mutely to your alter ego. Ingrith was hasty enough to know that judging look in your eyes because of how your witcher has been involved with sorceresses after sorceresses or mutant and mystical beings.

He was known for it and based on how you were judging her, your mind was also well aware of how infamous he had been with women.

Geralt of Rivia was given a lot to choose. Yet, he has chosen a powerless, vulnerable, less of a beaut than what he would've picked and Ingrith wanted to laugh for his choices---what he planned to be destined with a dangerous life ahead.

"You're the Yennefer one?"

"How do you know her, thief?"

An obvious shake of your head was given; shaking the worry away from seeing Geralt's long lost love working in a castle and also for the queen and king. That wasn't just the reason why you didn't want to see Yennefer anymore, another justification as to why you didn't want to was because of the bigger chances that you would be going home in one way or another when the white wolf wanted to because there was no proof or evidence that he wouldn't send you home. Sure, he has said several times already that you were his home---however, what if his feelings changes especially that his relationship with the sorceress has been ruined from a certain fight you didn't know about?

Did Geralt feel the same way about you? Was it love or merely just infatuation?

"Nevermind. You're not her." pause. "---also, why are you calling me a thief, lady?!"

Your eyebrows knotted closer than ever from her assumptions. It wasn't just Tybalt or his goons calling you a thief, even the sorceress too. Ingrith pulled away from the bars, dusting her gloved hands from the dust that was transferred to her leather mittens like the people sitting behind closed bars were infectious. She'd given Tybalt a look, her face indistinct of what she wanted to feel for seeing the real you.

She ignored your yapping as she asked the vampire beside her, "Are you sure she's destined with the witcher as a lover?"

Tybalt gave her a small nod, arms crossed in front of his chest as he watched you give him a glare back, "Yes, my lady. Last time I stabbed the little woman, the witcher was all feral, ye' know? It was quite fun to watch, nevertheless. This whore seems to be very important for him,"

"He'll be coming then."

Your knotted eyebrows suddenly went up your hairline at that. She sounded too enthusiastic for Geralt to come by; her voice masking a mixture of anticipation for seeing him and also hoping for something else when he arrives. It was a tone that only women could understand in their own language and you couldn't help but go livid.

She wanted something from your witcher and it doesn't look nor does it feel right because you could sense your eye twitch.

"Hey, sorceress of doom. I'm not a child. My womanhood is fully developed if you wanna know because you sound like you're insulting my height---thank you very much because that wasn't a first---Also, you sound like you want to fuck my witcher!---My witcher!" you bluntly stated, the tip of your tongue feeling vile and bitter from the truthfulness of your words. Jealousy being the root of it all and probably intimidation over this sorceress.

She wasn't that Yennefer yet. What if it was her already?

"---Find your own witcher! He's coming to save me, not give you a rumpy pumpy while you are all keeping me in prison!"

Ingrith could feel her temples have gotten flicked from that. Your attitude was making her blood boil---a know-it-all in a world you hardly knew about. She was beginning to come to a realization that your mouth needed barricade, it needed to know where you stood because apparently, she was having the upper hand and you were munching on her toe figuratively.

"Are you sure about that?" Ingrith spoke as a matter of fact; her lips curling into a sinister grin and this is what gets her going, "---you sound like you don't know your witcher too well, child."

"---You haven't heard the truest tales of him then. Your witcher loves to bed women in all brothels---Witchers leave all the time because that's what they do. They travel anywhere to hunt monsters,"

Your mouth was ready to throw curses after curses. A few steps close toward the bars made her grin wider to see your tough facade falter in the tiniest, seeing it from behind those confused eyes of yours. A mixture of fighting for what you had with a self destructing insecurity that makes you overthink of the future despite not talking it through with your mutant of a lover.

Ingrith didn't back down to that fight you have been mentally trying to assault as she was wiser to knowing your existence had a count down with them around.

She only needed to know where the portal was; options would be a sorceress back in your world which transported you to the continent. Second is a physical egress that has been never found nor discovered by anyone yet. From your kingdom to theirs. It wouldn't just be a theory because when the conjunction of spheres started, all hell broke lose in the continent. So, the idea wasn't completely a hypothesis that didn't hold zero percent chances of it.

All Ingrith needed was evidence and she will surely get the answers out of you even if she'll be using corporal punishments---even to the point of drawing blood until you say words she wanted to hear.

The sorceress began to wind you up a lot more, finding amusement from the reactions and tiny twitches of your face which tells how upset you are as she ran her mouth with endless gibes, "---your beloved Witcher can't be satisfied with one woman in all his life especially with a human like you because one ages slower over the other."

She crouched before you behind bars, gritting her teeth together like a feral hound trying to mark up his or her prey.

"You don't have magic. You aren't mutated and you die like normal men," Ingrith seethed, her eyes piercing and full of hatred towards you.

---Or maybe from mankind itself. You tried to understand where she was coming from or what she was taking a stand to. The sorceress in front of you thinks of herself as if she is higher than most human alive and probably a power-hungry feline where she would take revenge on whoever has hurt her.

It was that, or she just thinks she's above all because of the power and magic that she has been lucky to have.

"They have no capacity for emotion because of the combination of their hard training, genetic modifications, and seclusion from society. I suppose love is important and heartfelt in your world, correct?" the sorceress articulated with a scorn, "---Not to Witchers, my dear. I doubt he would love you as you expect him to. You'll only be the woman who tried to substitute over Yennefer of Vengerberg's position,"

You've given her a petulant expression and a moue that could make plants wither from the hate of seeing the sorceress. She couldn't help but send a ridicule as Ingrith also feels the same, "You are not special. The Witcher needs a person who does not give him more weight on his back---he needs a strong, independent woman who can save herself from being locked inside a cage and not screaming help for him,"

Ingrith of Helmfirth brought to a stand, her eyes throwing daggers over your kneeling form. You were easy to intimidate and certainly effortless to scare away just by the height differences. She simply chuckled when all you've ever done was give her a purse of your lips and a death stare that has probably killed her inside your head for a lot of times already; yet, you were helpless, inundated and incapable of doing such from a mortal.

She knew it; sensed that you held no magic.

"I didn't need you attacking me this way," you quipped with a shake of your head, sighing from the tiring conversation that was taking a toll on you no matter how unaffected you try to appear. But, you were futile to their world and even to a government that was quite unfamiliar to you, authorities that didn't care about the welfare and lives of people.

Sitting back on your derriere with your legs in a criss-cross position, you've held your guard down and went on with the flow. Suddenly, on the midst of prompting down in a comfortable position, you've heard the metal door swinging open and saw the sorceress holding up a hand to you like she had some repulsor; thinking she was Iron Man from how she pointed her palm at your face.

Your face was warped in irritation and ambiguity. You knew what she was doing; her magic is what it is. With a slap of her hand away from your face, barks of remarks has been said out in the open, "What? you need a high five after insulting me like that? even had to pry over what relationship I have with Geralt?---or are you Iron Man dressed as a lady? am I in the MCU?"

The vicious sorceress had a nonplussed look on her face, analyzing what was wrong with the spell she tried to cast upon you, but it seems like her runes has been blocked by someone or something she couldn't understand. Ingrith knelt before you and quickly grabbed onto your throat, her fingers roughly wresting along the line of your jaw as she made you look into her eyes.

None. You had no magic; really knew no witchcraft.

"You should be fainting right now," she lowly mumbled to herself, her gaze intently examining your face while you spat out dry cough from being choked alive, gagging in the process of being pounced on.

"Excuse---E-Excuse me, I'm not. You---You suck! You're not a real sorceress then!"

Until such time, she'd realize the light, chain of metal attached to your neck. Ingrith has straightaway pulled the collar of your sweater down until it has been slightly ripped off. You yelped and resisted to comply from her wishes. However, she'd slapped you hard enough on the same spot as Tybalt did which has made you cease from shrieking as the ache in your jaw started to double up more than ever.

They were literally treating you like a doll that they could hurt or ignite pain and you want nothing more than to see Geralt and lull you to sleep, being taken care of by your own witcher as he tells stories about his adventures with Jaskier or Cirilla, appreciating the difference of being in his family's arms and the people whom they've warned you about.

They have been right all along.

Ingrith pulled the collar down until she'd seen such Cicatrix engraved in between the valley of your chest; the medallion of the Witcher and his school, you were destined to be with him and to create a progeny---his progeny in this world you were in. The lesion now looked like a birthmark, turning darker against your skin and it was enough to presume that the process has finally began.

Along came with an ornament; specifically, the fae necklace that had enchantments to rebound ill-fate has turned from coral green to black like her incantations have been reversed.

"Impossible!" she exclaimed in the middle of the slammer, the Elven who was in the same stockade you were in has given her a look from her loud guffaws, "---you're under a curse---the Warp of the souls. Who'd curse you?"

The sorceress urgently demanded, her fingers tugging your arm as she pulled you closer to her face; seeing the beauty you once saw turn monstrous over the hate that was controlling her to live.

You shook your head, eyes all wide from the frustration, anger and hopelessness being confined inside a dungeon, "I don't know! I haven't met any mages except for you, bitch!"

Ingrith pushed you off to the side, making you stumble on your back flat that has made you groan.

"You're being protected," she stood up on her feet and dusted off her hands straight to your face; all feral with barred teeth, you've given her the stink eye and a nasty scowl, wanting to spit of her foot for her malign, "---Did the witcher find you a Djinn and planned to throw you off back to where you came from?"

"I'm not fucking answering you!" you loudly yelled, voice echoing inside the stoned slammer.

"It is a yes, then."

The sorceress turned away at that, paving her way to the entrance of your spectral, cold cage. She stepped out of the hatch with a lour and most likely with such ire, the curse being a stronger fuel to the fire as she scanned you from head to foot, her gaze lingering longer on your stomach.

Her glowing purple eyes that was quite difficult to decipher when she'd step out of the cage has made you hold a hand on your belly. Why was she staring at you in a way as if she was planning something? did she wanted to eat your intestines?

"---It's that...kind of wish, Tybalt."

Her right hand man has been silent all through out your conversation with the sorceress. The vampire kept his mouth shut, listening to what information they could earn from Ingrith's interrogation. He immediately understood what she meant about 'that kind of wish,' and it was confusing him because of the Witcher's inability to conceive such children.

Tybalt was thinking that your existence never had any reason as to why you've stumbled across the continent. Unless, you've been brought by destiny to produce and make miracles for Geralt's life?

The sorceress leaned closer, her mouth near to his ear as she quietly spoke; not risking for you to hear, "Starve her. Leave her alone with the Elf until The Witcher arrives---or better yet, cudgel her until she speaks answers." she huffed a breath, full of detest over what powerful being was protecting you from her---your curse making her loathe you even more as you were fertile enough to give Geralt an offspring. He shouldn't have been given that luck because he was destined to be completely barren. But, here you were being a complete wonder as to why the curse was a success.

Ingrith hated the concept of an offspring especially that she was also an infertile woman and she couldn't risk the likelihood of a child and its genesis of being a successful heir of a djinn's given malediction; a byproduct of the spirit's potentials in one human to be protected by a witcher.

It could be a threat to her and you were certainly a hazard that she needed to control.

The sorceress speedily left the cell with Tybalt following suit. Her palms itching to go berserk over being futile to your existence, "---She must not produce an heir with the witcher," she sauntered through the path with raging blood. The higher vampire swiftly tugging onto her wrist with his agility.

"But, witchers are infertile, my lady. I doubt they may produce a child,"

"She's made a wish. She has never been infertile from the start nor is she mutated. This thief does not possess such magic but she can give the witcher a child as long as she's protected by the Djinn. The Djinn would give their heir his own magic to create madness in this world which is why she's under a curse. Their child will hold power that no one can ever understand with the help of it,"

"---To make sure of it, we shan't walk around bushes. Spells or maybe poison shall do the trick. We don't need another damned prodigy in this world!"

Tybalt has given her a look, puffing out his frustrations for how she was a foot farther away from the future. The sorceress and her intentions was thoroughly getting out of hand from the moment the prince has been cursed for years. They were present when the curse for the prince has started; more so, Ingrith lasted longer than him in the castle from the moment he was seized by her when she was younger and he respected her for it, even thankful for abducting her when he was a vagrant.

"Ingrith, this is beyond the plan," he spoke through gritted teeth; tightly clutching onto her arm. She raise a brow back at him with a sarcastic reply.

"Do you want the witcher to have a child who may possess black magic then?" Tybalt shut his mouth at that, listening to her reasons and opinion about the whole tragedy that was about to happen in the future, "---you don't even know who that child with Ashen hair is. She can't be his child---he's protecting her from someone---even the thief because she is having his child,"

Ingrith forcefully yanked his hold away from her arm, giving him a sharp look of warning as she continued her gaslighting, "I remembered saving you when you were down and dirty, covered in grime in the caves because you have been abandoned as a higher vampire from your guild,"

The higher vampire's features turned adamantine; features withdrawn and never believing what words he was receiving as it felt like she was making him feel the indeptedness for taking him in.

Ingrith couldn't help but give him a mordant smile of her lips, tilting her head back at him as they stood in front of each other; eye to eye as they both had the same height. She'd seen and read the look within his eyes, conceding to her request of assenting over what side she was trying to fight as her own opinions is what matters and has always been right.

"You're strong, Tybalt. Stronger than the witcher. His sword is no match for you. You're smarter, agile and inevitable. Though, you have a weakness and I suggest you fight that vulnerability of yours---that foolish sympathy for humanity because pity for others isn't what this world needs,"

Taglist for WOTN: (Strikethrough means you couldn’t be tagged, Bb. Please check your settings) @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @turkish276 @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernaturalhero @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer @marvelousell @kingniazx @angelias134 @tapismyforte @chook007 @covid-donotenter @deadlydemon @cheesecakeisapie @angelofthor @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum @stuckupstucky, @shesthelastjedi, @a–1–1–3, @gutfucks, @raynosaurus-rex, @britty443, @suhke3, @shadowclawstudio88

Overall witcher taglist: @pizza-eater-i-ate-the-pizza, @crazybutconfidentaf

General taglist for Henry Cavill: @agniavateira, @iloveyouyen, @rahdaleigh, @silverkitten547 @henrythickcavill @kaatelyyynn

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