#I’m trying to remember if I gave them last names yet

[memories-break-our-fall]

Tentative hoenn redesigns!!

[radio-fmm]

You must live

What if Luffy and reader got out of Marineford with Ace?

Ace x reader

2.1k words, gn reader, SFW fluffy at the end

Depictions of war and injuries, happy ending!!! Idc idc, the most plot accurate thing I’ve ever written I guess if you haven’t catched up to marineford then don’t read, or do ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I ain’t the boss of ya’

War

It had creeped up on you like a nightmare from which you cannot wake up, your heart thrumming in your chest as you repeat to yourself that nothing’s real, that it’ll past— But it doesn’t

You still remember how you got here, the fear after seeing Ace stomping out the deck just about to jump to his striker as he argued with your dad because you knew there was not stopping him, yet you plead

“Don’t do it” now you stood between his sizzling anger and the edge of the ship, arms immediately grabbing his as a cry for help

“I have to do this, you know I do… I can’t let that bastard step on my dad’s name” as you looked right into his gaze you could just feel there was something else, something he was trying to prove not to your dad, not to the crew or you but to himself— Like he had to be of use to deserve his place

“Then I’m going with you” never in your life you had spoken with such conviction; you run to the side of the deck to gather a backpack and quickly tossing some food that was left laying around before everyone had stopped to convince your stubborn lover and failed miserably

“NO!” in all your time with Ace you had never heard him raise his voice at you, but you gave it no mind, quickly scrabbling anything useful for the journey at your arms reach

“Yes” everyone stood frozen knowing better than to speak up, you and Ace were so painfully similar, stubbornness one of the qualities on that list

“I have to do this myself, I want you here where you’re safe” he tried to quickly reach for the backpack now all full and packed but to not avail since you were quicker to toss it on your shoulders and walked straight to his striker

“I can handle myself just fine. I am going because I want to, I am making that decision,”- the silence that followed your statement was seasoned with desperation from the man that was onto your toes -“If you think I’m letting you go by yourself you’re out of your mind Portgas”

His last name leaving your lips had him groaning, a warning to not question you since you had in fact already made your mind and there was not changing it— so stubborn

So you followed him, through the hot desserts of Alabasta, dangerous Marine base’s and infested seas; you would’ve followed him to the end of the world

Maybe that’s were you find yourself now— the love of your life chained about to be executed like his death had something to proof; his blood not one he choose but now being punished for it, the world had failed him even before he was born and it pains you that you didn’t know, that he didn’t tell you about all the self doubt, insecurities and regrets that blinded him, a lot of things now making sense as you recall some of his behavior even before you began to build your relationship— his search for a life worth living that now you and him wonder if he’ll ever get to taste. But you don’t hold it against him, how could you?

By your side stands his brother, a pirate you had met in your lovers journey that had doomed yourselves, a bright and brave pirate that now gives his life away for his big brother, even if there’s no more he can give he does. And you? The pain that aches your heart also aches your bones, one more hit and you’ll probably be gone but you don’t care, as Ace’s voice rattles trough the dead and screams of pain it gives you all the energy and all the will to continue

“Why is it now that my brother, my dad, the love of my life and my crew fight for me, is that I find myself wanting to live?”

His words are drowned by his tears and your own but you feel them to the core, clenching your fists as you make your way through the war unfolding. Marines, pirates and family all fight for the future, you? You just want Ace to live, then you’ll give yourself the luxury of thinking about the future— A future where he is in

You scream his name at the top of your lungs making his head jolt up looking for you from high above, even though a battle cry, your voice soothes him but it also terrifies him. He fears for your life, and if you may want to keep him in it now that you know his biggest secret— what do you think of him now?

His fears quickly fade as you scream once more

“YOU HAVE TO LIVE ACE”

He doesn’t deserve you- he thinks. You had stood by him through thick and thin. even now you could turn away from this war and start anew, yet you fight for him, body scarred, bullets and punches flying above your head but your eyes look for his, your voice chooses to call for his name and reassure him even amongst the chaos— He feels your love as it expands through his tired form, combusting

“I LOVE YOU ACE, WE ALL DO, THAT’S WHY YOU HAVE TO LIVE BECAUSE YOURE WORTH IT”

Luffy glances back at you, the widest smile you’ve ever seen painted on his features, he calls your name while one of his hands holds your shoulder in a tight grip as if trying to keep you on the here and now “We are getting Ace out of here I promise”

That is the last thing you hear before everything becomes a blur, but you hold the promise close because you know it was made with a honest and pure heart. The Marines desperate to win the war and execute your lover pounce over you like a wild animal thirsty for what they call justice, but this is just a masacre. You hold onto the idea that this may pass too, like everything does

Somehow you pull trough, how? You still can’t comprehend, probably out of your resilience alone. Helping Luffy up to uncuff Ace’s restraints knowing he’s the only one capable enough to set him free, and he lives up to his name shocking everyone as both brothers decent making the war hold its breath.

That’s when Ace finally can really see you, your face clear and your presence heavy in his heart— it’s like the first time he ever saw you, love is the only thing stirring around his stomach even in the middle of his own demise as you stand in front of him, there’s nothing more he wants than to kiss you senseless right now, cry as you hold him tight grateful you’re here

But this is not over

It might never be

Your feet move at the speed of light, Ace’s hand wrapped around yours in the tightest grip as if grounding him, while also keeping you safe and sound. You must’ve been thrilled, the love of your life free and by your side now, yet, this cruel world seemed to just hate him- forever cursed by the blood running through his veins

It dawns on you very quickly how getting out of this hell wouldn’t be easy, that you will have to leave people behind just to be free, and it pains you both to have to turn your backs on your captain, your dad. You see the distress trough Ace’s face as he escapes, his heart thrumming louder and louder but apparently not loud enough as he catches the voice of Akainu- one of the Marines admiral’s calling his dad weak, even as he dies for you all

He stops, so do you and as you turn to look for his gaze you catch that same glint that was the reason of this nightmare. Ace was angry, it bubbles on his being like it has done so many times before and you know there’s not changing the course of this— you feel hopeless

You stand terrified in the presence of the admiral, a ruthless man that kills in the name of justice but he’s no different to even the most evil criminals he has wiped from the seas. You are not a believer in any means, but you find yourself prying to anyone above that you’re not next on his list

Ace bites back, Akainu lures him as he continues to spit venom on the ones he loves, the symbol tattooed on Ace’s back nothing but reminding you of how far he can go- and he will now

Because he would never turn his back on the people he loves

It all happened so fast yet so slow; your lover hits the ground, red crimson puddle staining the hard floor as you panic. You turn to all directions as if looking for an answer, a miracle that would get you out of here alive

Then you see it, bright and burning at the heat of the sun— Akainu’s punch flies as it tries to burn Luffy like icarus.

The rubber boy that had flew too close to the sun trying to protect the person he loves most

And of course Ace is rushing to protect him

It’s selfish really, the way you’re only thinking about how to get yourself out of this. You want to run away from the war harmless, untouched; alongside the ones you love standing by your side with a future to think about the next morning. It fuels you; all the grief, pain and anger rises and you don’t know how or why— maybe it was the entity up above that heard your desperate pleas and pulled on the strings of destiny

But… You punch Ace

You punch him harder than you have ever punched before, launching both of your hurt bodies to the other side of the battlefield. Akainu’s fist wavers, enough to miss his actual target, his little brother who holds Ace’s life between his fingertips while it sets alight once again

Everything stills, even as you hit the floor hard, you must’ve passed out after all this torturous time fighting, but you hold onto the little sanity and energy you can

Ace is looking at you incredulous— a million emotions tug at him as he looks back between you and his brother. Is he relieved? Angry? Scared?. For a moment his strong morals crumble as his gaze meets yours; you’re tired, so so tired yet hopeful as you plead for him to change his ways eve if it is for just this once, because you’re a selfish bastard

You can’t really make up what he’s saying to you now, you don’t really care as you use all in you to muster

“You must live Ace”

Your body shuts down, limp crashing on Ace’s naked top half as he holds you desperately, both of you may still lay on the battlefield but you feel safe because you know he’ll listen to you— you know he’ll live

And he would never let you down

It’s cold, you can make out a continuous beep that follows the rhythm of your slow heartbeat. You try to adjust the uncomfortable position in which you lay on your back, but your body doesn’t respond not even your eyelids as you beg them to show you where you are— Were you dead? Safe? At the bottom of the sea?

Air slowly enters your lungs, allowing your tired body to settle, you open your eyes a little hesitant now, a gray metal ceiling greets you

Another breath gives you the courage to move, you don’t recognize any of the coroners that your eyes land on, the bed creeks making the cowboy hat by your bed that was still in the corner of your eye jolt up

There they were, those eyes you adored more than anything… and that you thought you’ll never see again. They are different now, puddled with grief yet softer

It was reliving how after your ears had ringed for so long, to listen to your name spoken so softly, so lovingly

“You’re here” Ace can’t even bring himself to touch you, afraid you may shatter and there was just so much he wanted to say, to do, yet he only thanks you

He sobs now, allowing his walls to fall right at your feet because who else could’ve done it if not you

Your scarred hands cup his freckled face tenderly “Ace… you lived”

What a silly thing to say, of course he lived

Why wouldn’t he live?

Masterlist

I just finished Marineford and omg I just had this looping in my mind, Ace is my favorite character I see a lot of myself in him. This was written in 3 sittings so I may consider writing a corrected/longer version of it if people are interested because I am a huge nerd and love writing takes on arcs and stuff. Anyway Portgas D Ace you would always be famous

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: LEE KNOW X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: GRIM REAPER! LEE KNOW, HUMAN! READER, DEATH, ACCIDENTAL OD, MENTION OF DRUG USE, MENTIONS OF DEPRESSION, MENTION OF S*ICIDE, HOSPITALS, INJURY, UNESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, PRAISE, FINGERING, HAND JOB, UNPROTECTED SEX, BEGGING, PET NAMES (PRETTY KITTY, KITTEN, BABY), CREAMPIE, ANGST ☾ ━━━ WC: 2.2K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     Y/n didn’t believe in an afterlife. Not until she got pulled from it. The bright light of the hospital blinded her eyes as she blinked. No one else was in the room. 

     Well, except for the guy in all black in the corner. She blinked again to adjust to the light and he was gone. She was a bit confused but concluded it was just her mind playing tricks on her. Especially when a nurse walked in.

     “Welcome back to the land of the living, Ms. L/n,” The nurse smiled as she grabbed her file and walked over to the monitor next to her.

     “How long was I out for?” 

     “Not long. Your friends neighbor works at the hospital and called us as soon as they came knocking. Gave you a bit of Narcan but you crashed just as the paramedics got there so they had to restart your heart. You’ve been stable since you got to the hospital about an hour ago. I’ll let the doctors know you're awake.”

     The nurse walked out of the room and Y/n groaned, trying to move her arms. Handcuffed. 

     She had a friend that knew people. They got some harder drugs one night. It was all fun. Music blared through the apartment. She remembered taking some and then closing her eyes. Between that and the hospital, she had no fucking clue.

     The handcuffs were confusing. Did they think it was on purpose? That she actually tried offing herself through drugs?

     “Ms. L/n, how are you?” the doctor’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. 

     “Tired,” Y/n shrugged

     “So am I,” the doctor pulled up a chair next to the bed, “Can I ask a couple of questions about the other night?”

     “I can’t guarantee I’ll remember much.”

     “That’s okay. Whatever you can remember,” the doctor answered, “Did you bring the drugs?”

     “No. I wouldn’t even know how to find a dealer. My friend knows people.”

     “Was this your first time using?”

     “Yes.”

     “I noticed in your file that you have a history of depression. Have you ever thought about—”

     “My depression is managed. Maybe once or twice a year I get a fleeting thought of ending it. But never have I thoroughly thought I would.” Y/n cut off the doctor

     “So the drugs were, just for fun?”

     “Just for fun. I accidentally took too much, I’m sure it happens.”

     “It does. You were lucky we were able to revive you. Get some rest Ms. L/n.”

     The doctor smiled at her before leaving the room. She did rest as the doctor said. Mostly since she really couldn’t do anything while she was handcuffed to a bed.

     Minho watched the whole thing. He’d been watching the whole situation since she took the drugs last. He felt bad for her.

     The friends she was with weren’t exactly the best influence. Offering more drugs to each other. He knew at least one of them was bound to die tonight. He didn’t expect it to be one of the prettiest humans he’d seen in decades. 

     He watched her confusion at the scene happening before her. Her friends screamed at her unmoving body to wake up.

     “What the hell?” Y/n asked no one, but Minho still answered

     “You're dead.” Y/n turned to where he stood behind her

     “Who are you?”

     “Death, Grim Reaper, whatever you prefer.”

     Y/n looked back at her friends still trying to wake her up, “do they know?”

     “Considering how high they are, they haven’t figured it out yet. Come on,” Minho said

     “Where are we going?”

     “Whatever afterlife you believe in. But you can’t stay here.”

     Y/n looked at the man in black and then back at her friends. What shocked her most was they were actually trying to wake her up. After they pressured her into joining them. Only ever talking to her when no one else wanted to join them

     “Why are they trying?”

     “Feel bad maybe?” 

     “For what? They never cared. No one did.”

     He’d heard that line so many times. A lot of it was lies. Everyone had one person that really cared about them. Minho felt like she wasn’t lying about this.

     “Humans are weird. Let’s go,” Minho chalked it up to that, he always did. But, he couldn’t help but feel bad for the soul.

     Rather than taking her to whatever afterlife she believed him in, he opted to take care of her soul, personally. He couldn’t explain why, but for the first time since he became a reaper, she made him feel something.

     “What’s this?” Y/n asked as they walked into his ‘home’

     “Call it home. It’s usually somewhere I just hide away when I need to be away from the other reapers,” Minho explained

     “I thought you were gonna make me cross over.” Y/n looked around the place, it was pretty nice, mostly grey and black decorations. Better than any place she had lived in.

     Minho ignored the statement, mainly because he couldn’t even pinpoint why he was doing this in the first place. And maybe the more time he spent with her, the more confused he got. 

     Time worked so differently in the afterlife, even for him as a reaper. It was hard to say how much time passed in the land of the living, but for them, it’d been a year of hiding away her soul. He still had a job but he always made sure to come back to her, even for a bit.

     He got involved with a rather, unpleasant soul who refused to believe they were dead. He’d dealt with it before, reaping them was an easy solution but the guy wasn’t easy. Minho got hit with his own scythe before he pushed the soul to the afterlife. He just needed to rest.

     He opened the door to find Y/n laying on their couch reading one of the books he had collected over the centuries. Not unusual, it wasn’t like they had any kind of technology in the afterlife to watch tv or text someone. If she wasn’t reading when he was home, it was his fault. 

     Their relationship became complicated a few weeks back. Randomly talking turned into playful flirting. Somehow it led to making out of the living room floor. 

     Y/n heard the door open and cast a glance at him, “You look terrible.” Her book was set aside as she rushed over to him.

     “I’m fine, just need to rest,” Minho assured her as she grabbed his face and looked over him.

     “What happened?” She asked, “You look drained.”

     Y/n got him over to the couch and sat him down, kneeling on the ground between his legs. “Violent soul grabbed my scythe and attacked me. I’ll be fine.” 

     “Minho,” Y/n tsks

     “Not the name,” He laughed, which was a bad idea.

     Y/n saw him grab at his torso and moved his hand, unbuttoning his black shirt to see the wound. “If you wanted me to strip, you could’ve just asked sweetheart.”

     “Have I ever told you how insufferable you are sometimes?”

     “Almost all the time.”

     There wasn’t much blood thankfully— if there was really any, to begin with. She was still trying to grasp the death thing honestly. 

     “Hey,” Minho called out and grabbed her hand from the wound that was indeed healing due to his supernatural abilities. Minho pulled her up onto his lap, her legs on either side of him, “I’m fine.”

     “Promise?” She asked

     “Don’t worry about me. It’s not like I can die again.”

     “Yeah but what if you just… disappear?”

     “I’m not gonna disappear.”

     “Promise me you won't? I don’t…”

     “You don't what?”

     “I don't wanna lose the one person that’s actually cared about me, even if we’re dead.”

     Minho leaned forward and pushed his lips onto hers. It took Y/n a moment to register what was happening. Slowly her hands cupped his face, lips melting to move with his. His hands held onto her hips and slowly rocked her against him. 

     “Swear I won’t disappear,” Minho mumbled against her lips, moving down to her neck

     “Fuck,” Y/n whined as his teeth grazed her sweet spot

     “How can you be dead but so fucking horny?” he asked as he kept kissing her neck

     “I was dead inside when I was alive but still horny,” Y/n joked

     Minho laughed with her as she pushed his shirt off his back. He took his hands off her hips to toss the fabric to the side and then slipped her shirt off her body and tossed it to the ground. 

     “Your fucking beautiful,” He pulled her back down onto his lips. His tongue slipped past her lips and fought for dominance with her as she pushed him back against the sofa. 

     His hands grabbed her breasts and massaged them as her hips rolled against his semi. Both moaned as their tongues danced together. 

     “I need you, Min,” Y/n spoke as her hands undid his belt and pants. 

     “Yeah? Thinking about fucking the grim reaper makes you that wet?”

     He pushed a hand under her bottoms and panties, fingers sliding between her folds before pushing two into her while her hand pulled his cock out and wrapped her hand around him. 

     Y/n jacked him off while he fingered her open on his fingers. Moans uncontrollably fall out of their mouths. 

     “I need to fuck you,” Minho groaned as he threw his head back

     “What are you waiting for?” Y/n asked

     Minho kicked into action, laying both of them on the floor and discarding the remainder of their clothes. He pushed his lips onto hers again, taking his cock into her hand and positioning the lips at her entrance. 

     He sunk into her slowly as he lay on his elbows, lips moving in sync with hers. Y/n cupped his face while her legs hung loosely around his hips. Being dead came with the perk of not feeling pain. 

     Minho pulled out and pushed back into her. Slowly and firmly. Centuries after dying and not feeling anything for anyone until now made him appreciate the moment. 

     Y/n moaned into his mouth as his hips deliciously rolled into her. More than sure he was hitting impossible spots no one alive could reach, ever. She couldn't help but clench around him.

     “Feel so good around me,” He spoke against her lips

     “I need you to come in me, min. Please,” Y/n begged as his head dipped to her breasts

     “Yeah?”

     “Yes. Please, Min.”

     “My pretty kitty needs the grim reapers come in her that bad?” His face picked up a bit, thrusting into her a bit faster as one hand came between their bodies and rubbed figure eights into her clit

     “Fuck yes! Please Minho.”

     “I got you kitten. Need you to come for me first. Come on, baby.”

     Minho's tongue played with her hard nipples as her legs tightened around his waist. Her hands tangled in his hair and held on tighter the closer she got. Her walls closed in tighter around him, making it harder for him to move but neither cared. It felt too good at the moment. 

    Her orgasm hit her like a train. Her back arched off the floor before her body went limp, convulsing under him as he chased his high. Only slowing down when his high finally hit. 

     Exhaustion didn't hit him. It never would, even though he was injured. “Fuck,” he groaned

     “You okay?” she asked as she calmed down

     “Yeah. Don't think being on top was a good idea though.”

     “If you wanted me on too there's better ways to ask,” Y/n giggled as he pulled out and sat back against the couch. 

     Y/n sat up a few seconds later, climbing onto his lap and cuddling into him. “Is it weird I'm in love with the grim reaper?”

     “Is it weird just fucked a soul I was supposed to cross over?”

     Both laughed at the questions before Y/n looked up at him. “What are we now?”

     “Soul mates.” Minho smiled

     Y/n glares at him as he laughed at his joke. “That was terrible.”

     “You love me though.”

     “I gue—” Y/n stopped when she felt something weird in her chest.

     “Hey, what's wrong?” Minho asked, very alert now

     “Weird pain,” Y/n whined as it came again

     “They’re trying to revive you…” 

     “What? No!” He’d never seen a soul fry real tears like he did now

     “I can’t stop it.” All he could do was watch, as much as he didn't want too

     “Why? You can do anything.”

     “You’re in limbo kitten. It’d be different if crossed over already. I can’t do anything if you're in limbo…”

     “What if I cross over?”

     “It’s too late…” 

     Minho watched her become more and more transparent as they pulled her back to the living.

     “Please, Min. I don't want to go back…”

     “I’ll be there when you die again, okay? I promise.”

     He knew how it felt for humans when they watched someone they loved die. He’d see them cry over the dead. Having Y/n pulled from him back to life was just like that. But he could wait. 

     He found her in a hospital, waiting in her room. Occasionally leaving when he sensed someone pass and brought them over before going back and watching her. Even when she slept. Hoping she felt his presence or saw him. 

     “Until death, kitten.” He stood by her bedside watching her sleep.

☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR

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© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[chelseypprimrose]

The Boy’s a Liar / bfd!Negan x Reader / no-apocalypse AU 🧟

Warnings: daddy kink, breeding kink, boyfriendsdad!negan, oral (female receiving) use of belt, squirting, swearing, use of degrading names, general Negan ness, voyerism, unprotected sex, reader is a little evil to her boyfriend : NOT PROOFREAD YET

Summary: Reader finds out her boyfriend cheated on her via a Snapchat story, she takes sweet revenge with her boyfriend’s hot as fuck dad.

A/N: I’ve never wrote for breeding kink before so please be kind lol 🤍 I had a lot of fun with this one!

“Fucking waste of my damn time.” You cursed yourself, boys are so stupid. You couldn’t stop watching the Snapchat story of your boyfriend’s best friend, your boyfriend so obviously kissing a woman that wasn’t you. Not a care in the world, disrespecting you and the values you held in a loyal relationship. You didn’t know it this was a common occurrence that you just hadn’t noticed or a drunken one off. Not that it mattered, it was still a betrayal of your trust.

Eyes glossy with tears, you were driving towards your boyfriend’s house that he shared with his father, Negan. You didn’t even have a speech prepared, what you were going to say, if this was the final nail in the coffin of your relationship, your mind was running at a mile a minute.

Pulling into the driveway, you turned off the engine and put your car keys into your handbag, getting out and walking with purpose to the front door, your heels slamming on the concrete floor. You knocked on the door loudly, no answer. You knocked again, your hand shaking with annoyance.

The door finally opened but it wasn’t your boyfriend who stood before you, it was Negan.

“Hey doll, what you doing here so early? I was just making breakfast if you wanted any?” He offered before he took a proper look at your face, noticing the black tears of mascara that ran softly down your face.

“I don’t know what kind of fucked up morals you’ve taught your son, Negan, but I thought you were a better man. Obviously I was wrong.” You said with spite, you were letting your feelings be known to anyone who would listen. It was just unfortunate that it was the wrong person to direct your anger towards.

Technically, Negan hadn’t done anything wrong, but he was guilty by association in your current messed up state. You just needed to vent at someone, and Negan was the closest person to your boyfriend.

“Woah, doll? What’s wrong, what’s he done?” Negan moved aside so you could come in, walking towards the kitchen, the smell of fresh bacon and egg filling your nostrils. You placed your handbag on the kitchen counter, arms crossed, your hand playing with your necklace.

“He went out last night and he kissed a girl, I saw it on his friend’s Snapchat.” You managed to get out through a small sob, your eyes filling up with tears again. You couldn’t believe you were crying like this in front of his dad, you felt embarrassed.

“Jesus Christ, I’m sorry dollface, I didn’t raise the kid to do shit like that, we are loyal to our women.” Negan sighed, his hand running through his salt and pepper beard, trying to find the words to make the pain in your heart go away. His eyes watched you as you grabbed a tissue from the box placed on the dining table, using your front phone camera as a mirror to wipe your tears away.

“You know what though, it might be a blessing in disguise.” Your head whipped around to give him a look of disbelief, in what world could this be a blessing? “What the fuck do you mean, my boyfriend cheated on me? How could that even remotely be a blessing?!” Feeling your anger building up again, Negan walked around to your side of the counter, towering over you, his head coming down to whisper in your ear. “Oh please, Y/N. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me, remember that party a couple months ago, goddamn doll, you couldn’t take your eyes off my dick in them swim shorts.” He gave a small laugh, his hand coming up to tuck your hair behind your ear, his eyes watching your chest raise with each breath you took. “You need a real man to take care of you, I heard you with him. I’m experienced enough to know when a woman is faking it to spare a man’s feelings.” Your eyes met with his, how on earth could he tell. You couldn’t even deny it, while your boyfriend was good enough, he was too soft with you, complaining when you’d asked him to just choke you a little bit. He didn’t want to accidentally hurt you, he’d said, your eyes rolling in annoyance.

“How the fuck do you know that?” You asked, his cologne hitting you in the face as he got ever so closer to you. “Like I said doll, I know women. You want to be played with don’t you? You want someone who knows how to please you properly, give into it doll. I could give you all the pleasure you’d ever need.” You let out a soft moan, knowing this was wrong but your petty nature taking over, not only was this such an evil way to get back at him, you longed for Negan. He was right on the nose with how you looked at him, you’d always found him attractive, just trying to stop yourself from jumping his bones whenever the two of you were around each other.

“Fuck it, I’ve always wanted to know what your cock feels like, deep inside me.” You whispered out, your hands wrapping around Negan’s neck as he captured your lips in a kiss. His hands finding their way to your ass, squeezing the round globes hard.

He lifted you up, walking towards the stairs. “I’m going to have you begging for mercy when I’m finished with you doll.”

It was almost animalistic, months of repressed attraction coming to a conclusion. You’d never have even thought about your late night fantasies coming true, until this very moment that they had. Negan kicked the door to his bedroom open, not bothering to close it behind him. Placing you on the bed, his hands grabbing the bottom of his t-shirt to pull it over his head revealing his toned torso and arms, his tattoo that you loved so much coming into view.

Your hands started to feel up on his chest, wanting skin to skin contact with him so desperately. You tried to sit up a little to take your tank top off but Negan stopped you in your tracks, slamming your arms down above your own head. “Don’t you fucking dare doll, that’s my job.” A dark look coming across his face, he ripped the tank top off you hastily. His eyes glued to your bare chest, you hadn’t bothered to put a bra on today, in a sleepy haze just wanting to get over here to question your boyfriend. “Such beautiful breasts doll, he’s going to regret giving you up.” Negan stated as he took one of your erect nipples into his mouth, a soft bite as he did. You moaned out, watching his every move, his eyes locked to yours.

Leaning up, Negan unbuckled your belt sliding it out of your jean loops, grabbing your hands, wrapping the belt around your wrists as your hands were placed back above your head. The leather tight and digging into your skin, only turning you on more, heat rushing to your pussy. Negan took the time to unbutton your jeans, pulling them down your legs revealing your small black thong that left little to the imagination, pulling them to the side, Negan licked a strip starting from your opening to the top, focusing his attention on your throbbing clit. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your boyfriend never took the time to ever focus on your pleasure, either because he couldn’t be bothered or he just didn’t care, you didn’t know.

You felt the extra wetness as Negan spat right on your pussy, bringing his fingers to slowly enter you. Starting at a slow, agonising pace he could feel your body relaxing as you let your body give in to the pleasure you were feeling. You wanted nothing more than to grip onto his hair, but your bound hands didn’t allow it. As he felt you relax, he quickened his pace up, moans leaving your lips loud and clear. “Such beautiful noises for me slut, and I know these are real.” You felt your core tightening as you kept building up wave after wave of pleasure, you’d never even realised you could get so close to orgasm so fast, Negan caught on to this and took his fingers out of you, dripping in your juices. He forced his fingers into your mouth, you sucking the wetness off like it was your last meal.

“You fucking dirty girl, you like the way you taste?” He asked, his fingers still in your mouth as he pulled his shorts down, revealing his boxers to you. “Yes, I love it so much. I need to fill me up Negan, ruin me please.” You managed to get out through heavy breathing and his fingers. He chuckled, manoeuvring your body so you were on all fours, facing the mirrored closet doors, next to the entrance of the bedroom. “I’m going to fuck you so dumb baby girl, you’ll forget your own name when I’m done with you. Going to get you drunk on my cock. You won’t even want another man to touch you.” You whimpered, seeing Negan pulling his large cock out of his boxer shorts, them falling to the ground. His tip was red, leaking with precum, standing erect. He looked like a Greek god, his posture so manly and authoritative. He lined up at your opening and wasted no time, starting at a hard and fast pace. “Oh my god, Negan yes! Fuck!” Your nails dug into your own hands, the leather of the belt still digging into you causing pain but you didn’t care, the feeling was too good to complain. Your toes curled with pleasure in your heels, Negan’s hands gripped on your hips like he was holding on for dear life. “Shit doll, you feel so fucking good, so tight for Daddy.” You eyes widened at the nickname, you’d always wanted to experiment with a daddy kink but he’d never allow it, said it made him feel weird. You couldn’t believe how much this man was filling your darkest fantasies, you felt like maybe your boyfriend cheating was a blessing in disguise after all. Negan’s hand came down to slap your ass, the motion leaving a good red mark on your cheek. You looked towards the large mirrors in front of you, seeing Negan’s body go through the motions, his hips bucking against your ass as he fucked you deep. “Yes daddy, I’m so tight for you, you feel so good inside me.”

Neither you or Negan heard the front door open, your boyfriend finally getting back from his night out, guilt filling him up as he remembered what had happened last night. He knew that what he did was wrong, that kissing that woman was wrong. Still tired and hungover, he at first thought his imagination was playing tricks on him when he heard moaning coming from upstairs, he didn’t think his dad was dating anyone, a look of confusion coming onto his face. He made his way up the stairs, looking through the open gaps of the banister, his features wrinkling in disgust and disbelief when he saw you, head thrown back in pleasure as you met Negan’s thrusts in a timed motion. He rushed up the whole flight of stairs until he got to the door.

“What the fuck is happening here?!” You heard the voice of your boyfriend, your eyes opening with a gasp, you thought Negan would stop, embarrassed that the two of you had been caught in such a way but he went even faster in and out of you, your hands trying to grab some of the blanket that was at the end of the bed, failing miserably due to the fact of your hands being bound together.

“Hey son, just treating your girl to a proper fuck, you were stupid as fuck to let this one go, she’s one dirty fucking girl! Maybe this will teach you not to go round sticking your dick in other women when you’ve got an absolute diamond at home. Now stand there and watch boy.” Negan laughed, your eyes meeting with your boyfriend, you couldn’t help with the moan that escaped your lips as Negan moved down to grab your chin, his head coming to the side of your ear. “Tell him doll, tell him how good daddy’s fucking you.” You smirked, looking out the corner of your eyes to look at Negan. “So fucking good daddy, filling me up, better than he ever could. Please keep fucking me like this daddy.” You whimpered, your lips meeting with Negan as he kept his eyes open, staring at his son.

Your boyfriend didn’t know what to do, he rushed out of the room, slamming the front door behind him as he was trying to gather his thoughts together.

“That was so fucking dirty doll, oh my goodness! I can feel you getting close girl, let yourself cum all over my cock. I want to finish inside you, fill your body with my baby.” You screamed out as your orgasm took over your body, black spots coming into your vision. Your pussy felt like it had a death grip on Negan’s cock, his thrusts coming to slower pace as he let you ride out your orgasm. “Pull out of me, I want to ride you daddy.” Negan didn’t need any more encouragement as he pulled out of you, lying down on his back as you dug your heels into the mattress, sat on top of him. “Be careful with those things, don’t want a hole in my mattress dollface. You look fucking good in them though, sexy as fuck.” He said, as he shoved his cock into your dripping hole. You bounced up and down, even with your orgasm taking energy out of you, you couldn’t stop, you needed Negan like a hardcore drug. His musk mixing with a light sheen of sweat over your bodies. Negan’s hands gripped your ass as he directed your body as you grind into his hips, your second orgasm building up in your core. His cock filling you up, “That’s it baby, bounce on daddy’s cock for me, I want to see my seed dripping out of you.” You quickened your pace, feeling Negan’s cock twitching in you. “That’s it daddy, fill me up with your seed, I want you to fill my pussy up daddy!” You screamed out, uncaring about neighbours being able to hear you, you were too cock-drunk to care. Negan growled, his seed spurting out in you, his hands gripped your hips like a vice, his breathing heavy. You came to your end as well, gushing all over his cock, wetting the bed below you and Negan’s stomach as you squirted for the first time ever in your life. You moaned louder than ever, falling to the side of Negan, his flaccid cock sitting on top of his torso. You both were spent, the only thing that could be heard in the room was heavy breathing. Negan got up slowly from the bed, he released you from the belt, your wrists red and sore. He grabbed a small towel from the on-suite bathroom, cleaning you up from your squirt wetness. He laid back next to you, his arm coming over you to pull you closer, a sloppy kiss on your lips. “Life is never going to be the same again after this doll. Shit, I know it’s wrong to ask but leave him, I’ll treat you better than that stupid boy.” You looked at him, a smile coming across your face. “Negan, you could ask me to do anything right now and I’d say yes, that was the best fuck of my life, Daddy.”

Negan laughed and slapped your ass as he caught you in another sensual kiss.

[chuunai]

I had an idea for the 100 followers thingy- so like the babies thing but you’re a single mother (maybe teen mom?) and dazai (pm) falls in love with you and your baby :} ps- I LOVE YOU TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF SUGAR 💗‼️‼️‼️

I’m trying I swear TvT

✧˚ · . you’re a virgin and I’m just a meth head - pm! dazai osamu

the new hire at the port mafia interests him. the baby, too.

summary ⋆ ★ comfort, fluff with a sprinkle of angst, mentions of teen pregnancy, reader and PM! dazai are seventeen, SFW, mentions of a former abusive relationship, mentions of suicide (it’s fucking dazai), happy ending.

Assistants were something he never cared for much.

They came and go, either requesting to work for a different department in the Port Mafia after witnessing his peculiarities or dying. He hadn’t ever formed any bonds with them. Hell, he hardly knew their names. Dazai preferred to give them childish nicknames such as ‘four-eyes’ for the ones with glasses or ‘baldy’ for the ones who had barely began balding.

No use in actually getting to know them.

All they were good for anyway was organizing his work and making a schedule of meetings and pointless missions he’d hardly follow. And what could they do? Nothing.

Once, he had attempted to get Ango to apply for the job during an outing at Bar Lupin, but that four-eyes declined. So did Oda. Geez, his friends lacked faith in him. Dazai wasn’t that bad of a boss. His subordinates didn’t die that often compared to the others.

Then again, his most recent assistant had died via overdosing. Straight from the Port Mafia’s warehouses, too. Dying of his own stupidity because karma struck him down. The high may have been sending him to the clouds, but he got too close to the sun just as Icarus did and burned—or in this case, vomited—to death. Fun.

A replacement would be needed, yes, but that would involve looking through so many applications and that was boring compared to strangling himself or pulling Chuuya’s hair when the redhead was speaking with Kouyou.

He’d pick irritating the slug over paperwork any day. At least one was fun.

So he just had Mori pick one out. As long as they wouldn’t be a nuisance and knew their place, he didn’t care who it was. Boy, girl, whatever. All ages welcomed. Dazai preferred younger though. The old farts were annoying and so utterly dumb! So when a subordinate gave him a file for his new assistant, he didn’t think anything of it. He always got those for record keeping.

Although this particular individual piqued his interest as his eyes gazed over the information attached.

The age was young—seventeen, same as him. A girl. According to the report, you were previously stationed as a secretary for some lower ranking member. And you’d just joined, too. Only a few blissful months ago. Just barely a baby in the crime world. All dewy-eyed and truly unknowing of the dark underbelly of Yokohama.

Most interesting, though, and the thing that struck his curiosity was the fact that a small sticky note was attached to the last page.

��Single mother of eight month old girl’

There weren’t many parents in the Mafia, much less teenage ones. Nobody had time to have a baby with the lack of safety. But you did. Someone desperate enough to provide for their child to the point where they joined an illegal organization without even being an adult yet. That took will and selflessness. Something he lacked.

And without having even met you yet, Dazai found himself fascinated by you.

Murmuring your name to himself, he found himself a bit startled at how smooth it rolled off his tongue. He liked it, too. Your name was nice to say.

Tossing the file onto his desk carelessly, Dazai tapped his fingers on the desk, mind wandering once more. If you had a child then you’d probably work your best to support them. You’d be competent enough for him.

Apparently competent enough to the point where you felt like you could handle bringing the baby to the Mafia HQ.

“I don’t remember hiring two assistants.”

Dazai’s voice came out as slightly amused and startled. There you were, standing in-front of his desk while occasionally shushing your…daughter? It looked like a girl, anyway.

“Sorry- her sitter wasn’t available and I-“

His eyes stared at your reddening cheeks—embarrassment and shame, he could tell—as you spoke again.

“I don’t really have anyone to watch her. I’m so sorry, sir.”

Sir? You called him sir? That made him wave his hand a bit dismissively. The only people who called him ‘sir’ were the random grunts and gunmen that served under him. Or people who were scared shitless of him.

“Dazai. Not sir.”

Sitting up languidly, his uncovered eye focused on the baby. Curls of dark hair fell over her forehead while her tiny hands grabbed at your shirt and hair. Funny, he thought.

“And the baby can stay.”

She reminded him of some of the orphans Oda took care of. Especially Sakura. Maybe they had the same name, too. Unlikely, though. She didn’t look like a Sakura, really.

Picking up a pen, he pointed it at you, a small smile on her face.

“Speaking of, may I know her mother’s name?”

He knew it already. But it felt more right if he convinced himself you told him.

“Oh! Yes, uhm, I’m (L/N) (Y/N). And her name,” Tapping your baby’s forehead, she released a small coo, giggling slightly. “is (L/N) Yukirou.”

“Winter baby, huh. I’ll guess, December 16th?”

This was so much fun for him so far. Maybe Yukirou really could be his second assistant. As a joke, of course.

Nodding, you began to ramble on about the baby as he relaxed back in his chair, spinning around and making funny faces at Yukirou. The small child giggled and outreached her fingers to him, probably infatuated by his bandages and messy hair. He didn’t touch her, though. No need to let such a good small thing interact with a person like him.

And so minutes went by. Technically, he should’ve been doling out tasks and trying to kill himself again—he had heard of a technique where one could inject apple juice into their neck and die, but he wasn’t sure it’d work—but it slipped out of his grasp. Maybe it was the fact you two were so close in age. The fact that in another universe you could’ve been classmates fueled this moment. Dazai didn’t really know people his age other than Chuuya, but Chuuya was Chuuya. You were new.

New to everything in this line of business. The killing, the release of morals. Then again, you were just an assistant. You’d never directly be involved with that. Just helping him out with whatever was needed.

Dazai thought that was a smart choice, whether or not you intended for it to be. As an assistant, you’d be safe from the gunfire and outermost threats. More likely to live and protect your daughter.

So caring in a line of work where lives were dispensable.

He wondered how you got there. Not to the Port Mafia—the file told him. But how you took on such a frowned upon job to solely provide for your child. Was the father a deadbeat? Or actually dead? His father was the same. Dead five years into Dazai’s life.

His mother tried her best, but she died too and he slipped onto Mori’s grasp. Hopefully your baby wouldn’t end up in the same situation.

The peaceful moment was interrupted by one of his men who dropped off a load of documents, side-eyeing you before leaving.

Dazai wished you hadn’t turned the conversation back to work.

“Sir, sorry- Dazai-san, would you like me to organize the papers..?”

Why did he forget that you were just an assistant of his? The medication must be making his mind woozy again.

“By date and incident, yep. Also, if you see any that mentioned a Chuuya, please throw them out. Or burn them. Preferably the burning part.”

His office was always to be kept rid of that ginger.

“On it.”

And so he doodled a noose on the wood of his desk while you slowly put the papers away. It soon became clear to him that Yukirou was making the job a tad difficult by trying to grab at the papers.

A slight idea of letting her crawl loose in Mori’s office and destroying it entered his mind, but it quickly left.

“Y’know, if she’s being a devil, I can play with her for a bit. I swear I’ll be good!”

The words left him before he could really process them. Next thing he knew he was wearing the baby carrier with tiny fingers pulling at his shirt. Instructions poured from your lips as he nodded and patted the baby’s back.

“I’ll kill you if anything goes wrong.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at the sound of that. You? Kill him? Never going to happen. Unless it were a double suicide, but you probably wouldn’t say yes.

And he replied when the slight fear in your eyes registered after remembering that he was your boss in the Mafia.

“If course, cutie. I give you permission to kill me if theoretically anything goes wrong.”

Dazai made sure to sneak a peek at your reddening cheeks before leaving his office with the baby strapped to his chest and tugging at his bandages like a little snake.

That’s how it all started. A boy and a girl who happened to have a baby.

He’d never regret how months went by as you two became closer and closer. Joking around, complaining about work, all the stuff friends did. Hell, Dazai even watched Yukirou sometimes.

Thank god Chuuya wasn’t there to see him watching children’s cartoons on your couch with a baby in his lap and a stuffed animal in the other.

Or how he insisted on covering some of your rent when you were struggling. Yukirou needs a home, after all. He sees himself in her a bit. And he didn’t want her to turn out like him. If he couldn’t change his own life for the better, he’d change hers.

And yours.

Much better than that dickhead that fathered Yukirou. You told Dazai about it one night when he stayed over after babysitting once more. Yukirou was napping in her nursery, and you two were sitting on the couch just talking.

Talking turned into sharing details of your lives, and he came up. Your old flame who ditched you. Breaking a promise that he’d be there for the baby and you. Dazai was silent all throughout it. Quiet when you spoke of the emotional abuse and stress that you had, quiet when you began crying over the fact you never got to graduate high school.

He was just there, daring to awkwardly rub your back as you vented. He wondered if you had talked about it before. Probably not.

Dazai felt like he too needed to share a story of his childhood too in exchange for yours. So he told you about the poor neighborhood he grew up in and the horrors he saw daily.

Did it lessen the impact of your venting? Most likely, but in his opinion, he was trying to show you that he trusted you now too. He assumed it worked when you fell asleep on his shoulder. He took care of Yukirou when she woke crying an hour later. He would’ve been a much better father than that bastard.

It didn’t help either that Yukirou began to see him as her daddy. He was there when she turned a year old, gifting her all sorts of things. Scolding her when she nibbled on his hands. Doing nearly everything a dad would.

Even when she managed to say ‘mama’ and ‘dada’ for the first time, it was when all three of you were in the room together. In her tiny mind, it was her family. Her mama and Dazai—her papa. Oda congratulated him for becoming a father when you came along one day with him to Bar Lupin.

It didn’t live up to Chuuya’s reaction when he first heard one of his guys call Dazai a doting father. The shortstack had gone up to him asking if he really was Yukirou’s dad—rumors went around at HQ quickly—and Dazai had to sadly reply that he wasn’t. Sometimes he wished he was. Months of time with you led to nights in bed where he dreamed of a universe that he was really the dad. That Yukirou had his brown eyes instead of her dad’s blue ones.

It wasn’t fair.

Nor were his growing feelings.

Dazai was smart. A genius thinker and planner. So of course he noticed how his heart began to rapidly beat around you. The sweating of his usually cold hands.

He’d had crushes in the past, sure. But it didn’t equate to this. Such a strong connection only made it worse. Was it wrong his Google history lately was filled with questions about confessing to and dating a single mom?

Did you even like him back?

That question couldn’t be answered by anyone but you. It scared him. You probably didn’t. Not as more than a brother, anyway. His suicidal ideation and tendencies scared off any woman who wanted more than sex. But he probably wouldn’t be living long anyway. So he’d have to shoot his shot eventually.

Which he did after another five months of consideration and thought. Dazai committed this act by simply asking you to sort out some notes for him. A total of eight. Each one had a single word on it. If you correctly put them together, it spelled:

‘I like you. Do you like me back?’

Much to his relief and shock, you did. You did, and he had hugged you so tightly. Tightening their bond, too.

So he became your boyfriend. And he wore the title of ‘dad’ to Yukirou gladly. The little girl saw him as her papa, and he couldn’t deny it. Even if it wasn’t biologically, she was his. And yours.

Dazai’s life used to be mundane and slow, yet with his new…family, he felt genuine happiness for once. A reason to live.

That was the greatest gift he could receive of all.

Regular Tags: @twst-om-lover, @xxcandlelightxx, @sinfulthoughtsposts.

Tags for everyone who interacted with this post (it’s over 100): @walking-simp, @hypocritic-trash-baby, @heartsfourdazai, @cheriiyaya, @depressed-monarch, @nyxt0t, @baby-tini, @h0nk3rs, @internet-angell, @cupidszvlvr, @owosamu, @my-dear-melancholy, @dazaibae, @nekomafumafufan18-blog, @cvsmois, @lizsano, @nanamiinto, @inojuuy, @reomarys, @mayanakahara, @briiscoolig, @maislovebot, @syona-sachyo, @xieqq2, @angelof-darkness, @moriiko, @fuckthisfuckingshit, @daushu, @wrynue, @amnda-ft-fyodor, @rain-alucard, @hanayoshiii, @moemoekunn, @thatwasa, @miiiloo, @probablyzombiedinosaurs, @mauviese, @chips-and-vinegar, @https-dazai, @rragudoru, @leyla3x0, @cheetozai, @jillyfsh, @rylerboi, @linaaeatsfamilies, @zorizoras, @onlinewhisper14, @komicoral, @anim3-simps, @theoddsinner, @caayye, @scaramow, @such-a-silly-little-gy, @bunnybs-stuff, @psychiclovecollective, @sleepy-yumi516, @fromjas, @suzurans-world, @mrstengenuzui, @mitislm, @tealover111, @edgarallanpoeswifey, @baby-tini, @yaz4luvv, @deliciouscandysalad, @isrealityevenreal, @briefcreationcandy, @astr3eaa, @underscoredaniii, @nolongerhooman, @notalooo, @ratinawetsocksweater, @tomiroro,

Rest in comments I’m crying now also if your tag is white it’s because you didn’t pop up when I was doing the @‘s

[corpsebasil]

Karma

I’m just dabbling in this because I saw Scream 6 so do not judge me

He’d thrown you.

So hard that when your head cracked against the wall you dropped to the floor, the world spinning like a top. He’d stabbed Anika. Stabbed her. And he was banging his way into the bedroom as you watched from the hall, eyes gaping as you took in the sight of the Ghostface costume.

But then your chest seized up—they had left you. They had gone into the bedroom without you, trapping you outside with—

“Stop.” You mumbled, voice a strained whisper out of your mouth. The killer either didn’t hear you or didn’t care, not as he slammed his shoulder against the door so hard it almost popped off it’s hinges, and he was inside. “Wait, don’t—”

You pushed yourself onto shaky hands and knees and began to crawl, lurching to the left almost immediately. Your balance was completely off; you reached up to touch your head and your fingers came away wet with blood.

“Hey..” you mumbled again, still dragging yourself across the floor.

Maybe if you could just get the door, just get to the…No. You forced your eyes open wide, refusing to fall into unconsciousness as your arms almost gave out. A pained groan left your mouth as you continued to press onward. You didn’t know what the fuck you were going to do when you got to the room. You could hear screaming, panicked sobbing, and that was the only thing that bent your sanity enough to crawl to the doorframe.

“Don’t do anything..” you forced out, but you sank down onto an elbow as you took in the sight before you.

Ghostface was standing in front of the window, shaking a ladder that had been connected between this and the opposite apartment’s window. You watched with blurry vision, mouth dry, as one final shake threw a body off the side.

Your stomach dropped.

Your ears rang as the screams began to dull, your vision and hearing both draining from reality. But you had enough sense to try and scoot away as the killer turned, finally ready for you, and you heard shouts of your name from the opposite window.

“I cant fight you.” You breathed, staring up at the opposing figure. Frightened tears began to well up in your eyes, your bottom lip trembling as you looked away. “Please make it quick.” The last whisper was the words of a coward but fuck it, you couldn’t even hold yourself up anymore. So you closed your eyes, squeezing them shut against the terror and awaiting pain.

Nothing. Just stillness.

You cracked a single eye open and almost bashed your head against the door frame as you lurched away. Ghostface had crouched beside you, head tilting, peering at you almost curiously. You squinted your eyes at him as you moved to position yourself as best you could on your elbow again, noticing the very surprising, very unexpected, lack of a knife in his hands.

“You gonna…throw me out the window too?” You asked, feeling slightly drunk as his mask began to double in your wavering vision.

“No.” He replied, and you grimaced at the voice that came out of the mask. But he didn’t seem to be leaping to slaughter you yet, so you dragged up every last ounce of sass you had in your system and threw it at him.

“Quite the…killer huh?” You half laughed, almost hysterical, but still flinched when he reached out to touch where you’d hit your head. “If I were you I would’ve—” you swallowed, blinking hard against the blackness creeping on the edges of your vision. “—finished me off in the hallway.”

You could’ve sworn a dark chuckle left the figure, especially when he pulled his hand back and studied the blood on his gloved fingers. You grimaced at the sight. What a damn sadist.

“Are you even going to kill me? You’re really… dragging this out.”

He only shook his head, and you heard one last shriek from someone, maybe Tara, you didn’t know, before you closed your eyes and slumped down onto the floor.

-

You woke in the hospital.

You had no idea how you’d gotten there, or what had happened. But then you remembered—remembered him touching you, sparing you, and—

You jolted upright in bed, a headache immediately raging war against your temples as your vision spun.

“Easy, easy,” a familiar voice said, moving to your side. “you’ve got a concussion. Chill.”

“How did I—?” You blinked at Chad, one of your friends, and searched the room for any other guests.

“Sam and Tara went to get you something to eat. This hospital food is garbage lemme tell you—”

“Chad how did I get here?” Your voice sounded strained, and you immediately didn’t like the wary expression on his face.

“That’s the uh, thing.” He said, moving to the hospital chair beside you. He gestured to your IV, then at your entire body, as if that explained anything. “Well you um, so you passed out right? And the others were already out? Yeah, so—”

“Ghostface carried you.” An accusatory tone informed you, entering the room with a cup of something steaming in her hand. Mindy gave you an obvious up down. “Carried you allll the way to the hospital. And left you. Set you right down on the front steps and dipped.” Your heart rate began to increase as her words sank in, the ridiculousness of the statement muddling your already concussed head. “Wanna explain that, Y/N? Why he didn’t kill you when he wanted to kill everyone else?”

“I don’t know I—” you swallowed, still blinking. “He threw me against the wall, he—”

“Convenient right? For you to be out of the way while the rest of us get butchered?”

“Mindy, come on.” Chad scoffed, gesturing to you. “She’s been through this before. She’s not new.”

“She doesn’t have to be new. Maybe she got so traumatized the last time this happened that now she’s working with—”

“Stop, stop.” You snapped, closing your eyes against the pain in your head and the frustration running through you. “I don’t know why he didn’t kill me, okay? I even offered him different ways of doing it and he just said no.”

“You offered him different—” Chad started, incredulously, but you cut him off.

“You think I don’t remember what it’s like?” You asked Mindy, glaring with a ferocity that usually had no place in your typically bubbly personality. You held up your arm, showing her the long, curved scars that ran along your forearm and bicep. “That bitch took her time with me. The only reason I’m not dead is thanks to Sam. So don’t come in with a big swinging dick accusing me of—”

“Can we deescalate the situation?” Chad begged, in the same moment Mindy raised her hands in a placating gesture and said, “Okay, okay. I’m just—on edge.”

“Clearly.” You mumbled, but still accepted the paper cup of tea she offered to you. Your hands were shaking, just a bit, as you took a sip.

-

An hour passed. An hour in which the hand on the clock moved to four in the morning, and you’d been allowed off your IV. You’d be discharged later, but for now, after a dinner of fruit cups, Turkey and cheese sandwiches, and bottles of water from the gas station, Tara and Sam had left, promising to pick you up later, and Mindy and Chad hung out in the waiting room.

You fiddled with your nails, picking at the skin around them, as you stared absentmindedly out the window. All you could see was his face—that mask—and the one word that still haunted you. No. He had the opportunity and he didn’t—he’d taken you to the hospital. The only question was why.

You heard voices and looked to the door, surprised to hear some yelling and footsteps moving loudly on the linoleum outside. You sat up, eyebrows knitting together as you heard someone being slammed against the wall outside your door, the sound recognizable due to you having had it done to yourself hours before.

And then you stared in surprise as the door opened, a pissed looking Chad dragging a startled looking Ethan, your friend and study-partner, inside the room. Mindy followed, glaring even as she rubbed at her tired eyes.

“This one,” Chad said, by way of introduction, “tried sneaking past us. What were you gonna do, math boy? Kill her?”

“What the—no. Tara said you guys got attacked and I wanted to see her.” His brown eyes slid to yours, giving you that look of his that meant help.

You couldn’t stop the tiny smile that somehow wound its way onto your face, and you looked to Chad, shaking your head at him.

“Are you going to interrogate every single one of us?” You asked, crossing your arms. Chad grumbled something under his breath, muttering about Econ and whatever, before Mindy followed him out the door so they could resume their lobby vigil.

“What happened?” Ethan asked, the moment the door shut. He moved to your side and crouched beside you, making himself eye-level, and your skin itched with the urge to lurch away from him. With him crouching like that he— “Y/N?”

“Sorry.” You said, blinking away the horrific images in your mind. “I’m currently concussed. I might be a little out of it.”

“I don’t mind.” He urged, tilting his curly head to the side. You swallowed as he stared at you, face so filled with concern, and glanced away.

“Well, he uh, the killer, came to the apartment and he—he almost knocked me out while the others locked themselves in the bedroom, and then he was banging on the door while I was watching in the hallway, and—”

“They left you?” He demanded, and his surprising flash of anger made your words stumble momentarily.

“They—I’m sure they didn’t mean to but—”

“Bullshit.” Ethan scoffed scooting closer and lowering his voice as if he could be overheard. “I would never have left you. Never. He could’ve killed you right there.”

“He didn’t, though.” You whispered, glancing down to grip your blanket with both hands. Your knuckles went white as you took a steadying breath, but you couldn’t ignore the rush of something like butterflies that occurred when he reached out to lace his fingers with one of your hands. “He didn’t kill me he just—”

“He just what?” Ethan asked. He sounded almost breathless.

“He just. Stared.” You turned to look at him, the confusion written all over your face. “I asked if he would—if he would kill me and—” you were embarrassed to realize you were tearing up, but allowed him to stand and slip cautiously into the hospital bed beside you, resting your back against his chest.

Ethan mumbled a curse when he saw the wound at the back of your head and, very carefully, ran his fingers over your hair. He didn’t touch the sore spot—the bleeding had long been stopped, and you were desperate for a shower—but you still felt a tremor run through your system at the touch.

He didn’t know about Ghostface touching you. He wouldn’t know how doing the same would effect you. But he stopped, sighing and looping his arms around your middle and allowed you to sink further into his chest.

“Then what happened?” He asked, calm enough as if you cuddled like this all the time, and it eased you enough to speak.

“He took me to the hospital.”

The laugh that left Ethan jostled you and you tensed, turning a glare onto your friend. He quickly mashed his lips together and forced a half-hearted frown, but you could still see the amusement in those doe-like eyes of his.

“Sorry. Very terrifying. How evil of him.”

“Oh, shut up. I don’t get it either.” You rolled your eyes, snuggling farther into him, as you brought your hands up to rest on the arms he had around your waist. Your thumbs brushed against his skin contemplatively as you thought. “Neither does anyone else. I woke up to a full interrogation.”

“Respectively, Y/N,” Ethan muttered, voice close to your ear. “I cant stand Mindy.”

You snorted.

“She’s my friend, but. Sometimes I cant either.” You sighed, sleepily, and turned your cheek to rest against his arm, your eyes closing. “How come—” you yawned. “—you trust me?”

Ethan’s reply took long enough for you to feel a twinge of hurt, but his answer made your heart drop into your stomach.

“I care about you too much to ever not trust you.” He admitted, not able to see the pink beginning to rush into your cheeks. “And I’m sure it’s safe to say that if Ghostface spared you, he might do it again. Maybe you’re not on his shit-list.”

You snorted, but you’d been hoping for that to be true. That maybe you had some sort of immunity card in your pocket that you hadn’t known about. Like maybe this was Karma, the universe’s gift to you for suffering so long under the knife in Amber’s skilled hand.

So you sighed, breathing him in, and allowed yourself to fall into a hesitant, jumbled sleep.

-

“We’ll isnt this freaking adorable.”

Your eyes opened and you groaned, your headache back, as you adjusted yourself against the body behind you. And then you tensed as you remembered. It was Ethan behind you, his arms still snug around your body, every single inch of you tugged up against him. You slowly moved to sit up, locking eyes with Mindy, who had an eyebrow raised as she watched you.

“He was just trying to comfort me.” You said, running a hand down his arm in an attempt to wake him up. But you squeaked when he tugged you harder against him, grumbling in his sleep, as if he wasn’t willing to let you go.

“Uh huh.” Mindy deadpanned you, glaring at the boy behind you. “And I have three tits. Tara and Sam are waiting for you. Can you get yourself up?”

“As soon as I wake him, yes.”

Mindy grumbled something under her breath and left the room, leaving you alone with Ethan. So you squeezed his arms, turning in his grip to look at him, as he slowly roused himself from sleep. When he lifted his head, hardly a few inches in between you, the immediate glance between your mouth and your eyes made your face warm.

“We gotta go.” You said, attempting to shift away, but he held you fast. “E, we need to—”

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t harsh, or intense by any means, just a soft kiss that made your blood run hot. And then he was pulling away, running his hand down your cheek, before shifting away from you.

“Then we’d better go.” He said, leaving you winded as he scooted out of bed and picked up his backpack. “What?” He asked, noticing your surprised expression.

You moved from the bed, still in your outfit from the night before, and crossed the small space over to him, tugging his mouth down to your own.

hello

Part 2

[angel5ofp0rn]

♡last part♡

Young!Price -> ExHusband!Price x f!reader

(Young!Price flashback)

The pub was alive with the sounds of laughter and clinking pints as John sat with Simon, Kyle, and Johnny. John was halfway through his second beer when his phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen, seeing an unfamiliar number.

"Be right back." John muttered, picking up the phone. He stepped outside into the cool evening air, lighting a smoke and answering the call. "Yeah?"

"John, it's Nadia," a familiar voice replied, though it sounded different – tense, almost hesitant.

"Nadia…" John repeated, racking his brain for a face to match the name. He vaguely remembered a blonde woman from a few weeks ago, but the details were hazy. "Er…. everything alright?"

There was a pause on the other end before Nadia spoke again. "I... I need to talk to you. It's important."

John's heart skipped a beat, an uneasy feeling settling in his stomach. "Alright. What's up?"

"I’m pregnant and I’m keeping the baby, John. I just thought you should know." Nadia said, the words rushed out as if she couldn't bear to hold them back any longer.

John felt the world tilt on its axis. He leaned against the pub’s brick wall, trying to process what he'd just heard. "Pregnant?"

John rubbed his temples, trying to piece everything together. The night was coming back to him in fragments – a night out with the guys, mutual friends, a spontaneous hookup. "Nadia, right. You’re the one who had never—"

"Yeah, that’s right," Nadia replied, a hint of embarrassment in her voice when he remembered. "I’m not asking for anything from you. I just thought you should know."

John blew smoke away from the receiver, trying to calm his thoughts. "Nadia, listen... I want to do the right thing here, but I’m not sure what that is just yet.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then Nadia sighed. "We should talk more about this...“

"Let me call you back tomorrow, and we can figure things out, yeah?”

They said their goodbyes and John ended the call, no longer interested in finishing his smoke. He stood there for a moment, staring at his cigar.

He walked back inside, the guys noticing the change in his demeanor immediately.

"Everything alright, cap’n?" Gaz asked.

John shook his head, taking his seat. "Not sure yet. Just found out I’m going to be a dad."

The table fell silent, the guys exchanging glances. Soap spoke up finally. "Are you sure you’re the father?”

"Yeah," John replied, taking a sip of his beer. “I’m sure.”

“How could you be, if the baby hasn’t been born yet?” Gaz chimed in. “You need to ask for a paternity test before you take claim of a random hook-up’s child.”

John shook his head sternly. “No, this woman… She’s… It’s mine.” John left it at that.

The guys accept that answer— or just didn’t want to end up angering Price.

Ghost, who had been quiet until now, leaned forward onto the table. "I think being a dad suites you, Price. Been fathering Gaz and Soap just fine.”

“Piss off,” John snorted.

•••

You hold John’s hand tightly, Shea on your hip as you all walk up the pavement to Nadia’s.

Your oldest and middle take off running ahead of you as soon as they see the familiar house, excited to spend the day with their big brother.

“Gonna cut my circulation off if you hold any tighter,” John murmurs.

A little embarrassed, you loosen your grib on your husband’s hand and mumble a “sorry.”

“What’s got you so anxious, hm?”

You just shrug. You don’t want to say it’s because you’re jealous of your husband’s ex-wife and the cheek kiss she gave him two days ago.

The kids let themselves into Nadia’s home as if it’s their own, making John call after them in his authoritative dad voice that you love hearing.

“Oh, they’re fine, Johnny.” Nadia waves him off as she appears in the door. “Let them have fun.”

Johnny?

You try to cover the autonomous sour expression on your face with a smile and accept the hug Nadia gives you.

“Nice to see you!” Nadia smiles warmly. “And this little chunky monkey. I just have to squeeze her.”

You don’t mind handing baby Shae off to Nadia to get some cuddles in; at least you know she won’t be trying to kiss your husband that way.

You and John head through the house and out to the backyard where the kids are playing. Your eyes watch the kids play, but your mind can’t stop thinking about whether or not you’ve missed any signs of Nadia still being interested in John, or vice versa.

Yeah, they’ve both told you that there’s no feelings between each other, but all exes say that, don’t they?

And you saw how happy John looked in their wedding photos… happier than you’ve ever seen him.

“Want a drink?” John asks, breaking your thoughts.

“Yeah,” you reply, trying to focus on the here and now. He heads inside, leaving you with your swirling thoughts.

As you watch John and Nadia through the kitchen window, you notice their relaxed smiles, the way they move around each other with practiced familiarity.

Jealousy prickles at your heart again, but before you can dwell too long on it you see a third figure enter the kitchen.

A woman with short, light hair steps in, wrapping Nadia up in a hug.

Nadia’s face lights up as they interact, and your curiosity gets the best of you— you step inside.

“Kate,” John smiles, giving the woman a hug with one arm, your beer in the other hand. “This is my wife,” He gestures to you. “Love, this is Kate Laswell, you’ve heard me talk about her before when we used to work together.”

You blink, stunned for a moment. You see the way Nadia is looking at Kate, and the arm Kate has wrapped around Nadia’s waist…

You feel a wave of relief wash over you.

Kate is Nadia’s girlfriend.

Of course.

Kate smiles warmly, shaking hands with you. “It’s nice to meet you. John’s told me a lot about you.”

•••

You all make it back outside, joining the children in the backyard; Nadia is down in the grass playing whatever game the kids have made up while Shae snuggles up to Kate as if she’s known her forever.

John wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close as he leans down to murmur into your ear. “Feeling better?”

“You fucking asshole,” You playfully shove John’s shoulder. “You could have just told me that Nadia was gay.”

John laughs, his eyes crinkling as they do when he genuinely smiles. “Maybe I liked seeing you jealous.”

<< prev

* tbh i just needed to end this series. sorry if the last chapter is assssss

[albertdabuttler]

Masked Adversary | D.L.

MASTERLIST

this fics masterlist

fandom: Kick-Ass

pairings: Dave Lizewski/Kick-Ass x F!Reader

WARNINGS: cussing, suggestive thoughts?? mentions of kissing 👅👅, angst and overthinking cause im a hater. SLOW BURN :P

summary: You and Dave have lost a childhood friendship. The circumstances have made you grow to despise one another, until KickAss has no one else to turn to but you, causing him to develop a small crush. The only problem being that you don't know it's him.

WC: Like 3k idk

Guys lmk if I ate…

———————

You had just finished showering when you heard your mom calling your name, telling you there was someone at the door for you. Thankfully, you were dressed and had finished drying your hair already. “Coming!” Opening the door of your steamy bathroom, you were met with Dave walking past to your room.

“I already sent him up!” She called from downstairs, far too late.

“Hey,” You spoke in a rather awkward tone, slipping past him towards your room as he followed. “Uh, sorry if it’s a little messy, I was gonna organize it before you got here but you got here already so… Yeah.” You picked up everything from your desk, taking your things to your bed to study comfortably.

Dave stood there awkwardly, not sure if he should also sit on your bed with you or… Anywhere else.

“Come on, dude,” you scoffed in amusement, patting your bed to get him to sit down. He laughed nervously, setting his bag next to your bed and taking his notebook and pen out. He sat down across from you, at the end of your bed while you sat by your pillows.

“Nice shirt,” he said, seeing the Robin shirt you were wearing and remembering he had drenched it in his blood. You looked down at it, smiling to yourself. “I found it in my closet yesterday and… I—I just washed it.” Dave himself was just wearing a tee and sweats.

“Okay, so I was able to get half of my stuff done after you dropped me off earlier, but I still have this part to finish.” You pointed at your laptop, showing him what you still had to write and continued to talk about what else you had to finish.

It was a project for science. The two of you had to put together a presentation on some animals or something.

“So…” you tapped your pen against your knee.

Finishing writing a sentence, he lifted his eyes to look at you, “Yeah?”

Was it just you or was he actually starting to look… Good?

“Um…” You looked to the side as you thought of an ice breaker. “You had any girlfriends yet?”

He blushed and smiled awkwardly, “Uh…” Scoffing at himself, he looked around as if an answer would pop into his view. “Not really… Why…?” He squinted at you.

“Hm. Still a loser I see. Glad to know you haven’t changed.” You teased. He only rolled his eyes, looking back down at his paper.

“You’re so annoying. Didn’t you get dumped like three times?”

“Unbelievable,” you watched him, rolling your eyes. “When you get a girlfriend you can talk shit.”

He smirked. “You’re not denying it.”

You glared at him. “I dumped them.”

“Right.” He looked back down at his notebook, trying to hold back a smile.

You glanced up at him again, taking in his features, the way his glasses slowly slid down his nose as he looked down, the way his bottom lip was caught between his teeth in concentration.

Before you knew it, he was looking up at you with a curious look. “…What?”

You blinked, hiding the flustered feeling you got from him catching you staring.

“You’re also not as incredibly nerdy looking as I remember.”

He can only glare at you. “What’s that supposed to mean?” But alas, he hoped it meant you were attracted to him. At least almost as much as he was to you.

“Nothing you just… Don’t look so bad after all this time.”

He quickly looked back down at his notebook, unsure of how to feel from the so called ‘compliment.’ Although his heart was pounding through his ribcage, he decided to tease.

“You think I’m cute?” He gave you a smolder.

“Oh hell no.” You scoffed at the stupid face he made.

“Maybe.”

Even if you had whispered that last part, he still heard it.

You had spent almost an hour working on your project before you heard your dad knock at your door. You had no time to answer before he opened it.

“Dinner’s ready.” He said, smirking at Dave. “Keep the door open.”

You rolled your eyes. “Dad, you know it’s not like that.”

Dave and your father had a very good relationship before you had stopped being friends. There were even times where your dad would go out of his way to invite Dave and his dad over for dinner. They even had their own inside jokes.

“Don’t worry, sir.” Dave shook his head, “I’m way out of her league.” He had a smug look on his face that made you want to shove him out of your house.

“Up top,” said your dad, holding his hand up as Dave stood up. You knew your dad loved you and was just teasing, but it still annoyed you.

“You guys suck.” You said, pushing past your dad and meeting your mom in the kitchen while they laughed.

If it was any other guy, like your last boyfriend, your dad would have beat his ass for saying something like that. But it was Dave, and Dave was like the son your dad never had.

“Love you, hun.” Your dad called after you but you didn’t reply.

You set the dinner table quickly, sitting down as your mom set the food down.

Your dad sat at the end of the table with your mom across from you, Dave’s usual spot had always been next to you and that didn’t change.

“Where have you been? We missed you, kid.” Said your dad, already digging in.

Dave gave you a look, wondering why you hadn’t told your parents your reason for not being friends.

“I dunno… Just been busy, I guess.” He said quietly.

“Why haven’t you come over?” Your mom asked.

Dave and you looked at each other for a second, “We just didn’t really talk much after freshman year ‘cause we didn’t have any classes together.��� You told her, which wasn’t really a lie. You and Dave didn’t have any classes together freshman year.

“That’s sad,” she frowned, “you two were always inseparable.” She smiled at Dave fondly.

Dave only poked at his food, “Yeah,” he said, smiling to himself.

You had finished eating, everyone continuing to converse here and there with their on food still on their plates when you felt Dave’s knee touch your thigh. He didn’t pull away, and neither did you to see what he would do. He only kept talking to your parents, completely ignoring the fact his body was touching yours.

Of course he actually did realize this. In his head he had done it on purpose just to see how you’d react. You tried to stop thinking about it for the rest of dinner.

You weren’t mad or uncomfortable, of course it had happened before, but it felt different somehow. Familiar.

“So have you guys gone on any dates yet?” Asked your mother, out of nowhere.

You froze, staring at her. Dave choked on his drink, coughing over and over again, trying to catch his breath but he didn’t seem to tone it down. His face was red because of this. And other reasons.

“Sorry.” Your mom hid a smile, seeing Dave’s reaction gave her more than enough answers on his part.

She gave you a knowing look and you sent her a look of disgust.

"Gross." You said, repeating Dave's words from earlier that day. Dave finally cleared his throat of whatever he choked on and tried to back you up. His knee wasn't touching you anymore, you noticed.

"What she said," he pointed his thumb at you, voice hoarse.

"You've never even thought about getting together!?" Your mom looked surprised. At this, you couldn't help but do exactly that. What it would be like to go on a date with him, maybe getting a coffee at Atomic Comics, maybe watch the Avengers movie that was about to come out in theaters. What it would be like to hold hands at school, how surprised everyone would be since you guys seemed to hate each other so much. What Cleo would say, what Todd and Marty would say.

What you would have to tell Kick-Ass if he climbed into your window again.

'Hey I know I patched you up and stuff and kinda stopped you from bleeding out, and I know we kissed like three times but guess what?! I have a boyfriend and I can't talk to you anymore.'

And what it would be like to kiss Dave. If he would be any good at it, or if he still hasn't gotten laid because he's too much of a pussy to talk to girls. How it would feel if he had his hands all over you, his lips brushing yours, how it would feel if he was kissing your neck softly—

"You guys have much in common." Your dad smiled slyly at you two, snapping you out of your daydream.

Why had you let your mind wander that far?!

Dave stared at his food, his face an obvious red.

"Okay, that's a wrap..." You cleared your throat, pursing your lips. You excused yourself from the table, picking up your dish and Dave followed, “Thanks for the food,” Dave smiled at your mom as you took your dishes to the sink.

"Sorry about that," you spoke as you approached the top of the stairs.

"I—It's fine." He brushed it off, sitting down on your bed as you shut the door.

It was silent for a few moments as you scrolled through an article on your laptop, Dave reading from his drafts.

"Have you even had your first kiss yet?" You questioned out of the blue.

His eyes shot up, hesitating for a second before regaining his composure.

"Yeah. Sixth grade, remember?" He said proudly. "Have you?"

"Yes, dumbass. You know this." you scoffed.

"With who?"

"Remember Freddy? The brunet guy that called you a nerd in second grade and you never got over it? He was my first boyfriend."

"Lame." He rolled his eyes. "Smart-mouth like him I bet it was the best kiss you ever had." He shot.

"Wrong. Best kiss I ever had was with Kick-Ass." You crossed your arms sassily.

It was safe to say that Dave was flattered. "Oh really? You don't even know him though, so it doesn't really count."

"Maybe I don't know who he is, but I do know that he actually likes me. I just have to find out who he is. He’s probably hot or whatever…”

Dave blinked in awe. "He might not like you… He could just be using you. Why are you kissing random guys anyway? Are you really that desperate…?”

“No?! He just made it obvious, okay? And why are you getting all weird? Are you jealous…?”

“Me? Jealous of him? Fuck no, I’d rather be stitched up by a damn chimp than you with your terrible needle skills.”

You paused. “How did you know I needed to stitch him up…?”

He was able to answer before hesitating, “Cleo told us when you left for fourth period.”

“Fine whatever. Just piss off dude, at least I talk to the opposite sex.” You huffed.

He stared at you for a moment and you laughed at his expression, himself joining you soon after. A few moments later you noticed yourself looking at him too often. Like you were expecting him to say something.

“…What?” Dave slowly looked up at you from his notebook, noticing your lasting gaze.

“I—“ you thought for a moment, figuring out a way to explain yourself. Suddenly, you sat closer to him, pulling his glasses off his face before putting them on yourself.

“Holy shit, you’re blind.” You teased.

“Shut up.” He scoffed, “you’re exaggerating.”

You took a moment to look at him, noticing the big difference without his glasses. Dave watched you expectantly.

“You look weird with glasses.” A smirk threatened to creep up on his lips. You only scoffed.

“And here I was thinking you looked cuter without them.”

He blinked, losing his words and you began to notice a pink upon his face. He laughed nervously, swallowing whatever was in his throat as he looked away at his notebook, trying to pretend like he didn’t hear you.

You smiled, feeling a sudden urge to tease him in a flirty way. “Did you hear what I said?”

Dave looked back up at you. “What?”

“You should wear contacts. You have really pretty eyes.” You looked at his lips for a moment, licking your own, picturing yourself kissing Dave.

“Um… Thanks…” His heart rate began to quicken as he tried keeping his gaze on you, noticing how you looked at his lips. All of a sudden, he grew bold, looking at your lips too.

“What are you looking at?” He asked curiously.

You blinked and looked up at his eyes, adjusting the glasses on the bridge of your nose. “Nothing.”

“You know… I had a crush on you in eighth grade.” He whispered.

You laughed, “What?”

He chuckled, “Yeah, I don’t know how my taste was that terrible at any point in my life.” He tutted.

“Fuck you.” You laughed softly. “You’re such an asshole, you know that?”

He held back a smile, tracing his eyes over your features.

The two of you stared at each other for what felt like an eternity until you felt yourself being pulled closer to him. He leaned towards you as well until his face was just a few inches from yours, his hand resting next to your leg to hold himself up.

Finally, he began closing the distance, trying to ease into it as if not to scare you. His lips barely made it to yours before you pulled away, removing his glasses from your face and placing them back on his with a smile.

“We should finish this…” You sighed.

His face was noticeably red again, especially from the embarrassment of you pulling away. He felt like an idiot, thinking you actually wanted to kiss him. He didn’t question you or anything, but he still wanted to understand why you’d lure him in like that only to rip it from his grasp.

"Oh fuck, it's already ten past nine," spoke Dave, putting his things away.

"I would say you could sleep over like you used to, but I don't want my parents saying shit like that ever again. Plus Kick-Ass could come over and I don’t want him to think I’m with a nerd or whatever.” You teased.

Giggling, he stood up with his bag in hand, you followed him to the front door.

"Thanks for having me," he smiled as he walked past your parents in the living room. He opened the door for you, stepping out after you.

"Thanks for studying with me... And dinner." He spoke softly, giving a small smile.

"Yeah..." You stood in front of him, admiring his features as he towered over you. He had a strong jaw, soft plump lips, a cute nose, perfect eyebrows (for a guy), and beautiful blue eyes behind his glasses. His curls fell over his forehead—were you looking at him too long? You felt like a creep for just staring at him for what felt like hours. You knew it had to be weird. But what you didn't know was that he was admiring you too.

He was standing so close, close enough for you to right hook him. You looked at his eyes 'til you caught him glancing at your lips. He wanted to kiss you again, like he did yesterday, but he knew he couldn't. Not as himself, at least.

For some strange reason you moved closer to him, not knowing why or what your motive was.

"See you Monday." He took a step back, pursing his lips with his hands shoved in his pockets.

"We—You can come over tomorrow if you want...?" You tried, but to do what? Why did you want him back here again so soon?

"Uh—I have stuff this weekend... But I'll text you if any plans change..." He slowly walked backwards onto the sidewalk. He felt bad for lying again. He couldn't keep this up much longer.

———————

SLOW BURN MUTHAFUCKAS 🗣️🔥🔥

TAGS BC YOU ASKED!! @iliterallydontexistlol @esmestarz @pernandofalonso @lizzxoxo @real-sharena-h @iheartdilfs01 @friendlyneighborhoodhottie @popejar

[cherryrikis]

BETTER LUCK TOMORROW - two ! case file

pairing : nishimura riki x reader

synopsis : after being in the wrong place at the wrong time, you (as well as your friends), were framed for the death of your brother and disappearance of your boyfriend. you all had no hope. no job, no money, none of you were even allowed to graduate. at least, until a stubborn kid on a dance scholarship suddenly acts as your savior, riki helps clear your name all for the sake of a school project.

this episode contains the following : 0.7k wc, statistics of ppl going missing but idk if it’s accurate, talking about bodies (once), mention of killing/death

previous | masterlist | next

[2024.9.30 - y.j choi / m.j kim interview : contacts #3 & #4]

contacted list : s.y kwon (1), j.y sim (2), y.j choi (3), m.j kim (4)

RIKI : are you okay with this interview being recorded and transcribed, especially in the event of these audio clips possibly being publicized?

YEONJUN : yes, i don’t mind.

MINJAE : [nods]

JUNGWON : minjae, sir. we’re gonna need you to verbally agree into the mic.

MINJAE : yeah. i’m fine with it.

RIKI : how did you feel about being assigned to the lee-park case?

YEONJUN : it was kind of a big break for me. if i solved, or, partook in solving this case, i would’ve been given better assignments and more opportunities. i kinda had a bad reputation for accidentally letting minor criminals go, but this really got the department to trust me more. i just wanted the respect, that’s all.

RIKI : minjae?

MINJAE : obviously because of the strike at the city hospital, they were short on paramedics. officers have to know medical basics, so we had a lot of our team volunteering at the ED. i was supposed to be one of them. but then your friend killed your other two friends, and we were so short staffed that they gave this crazy case to the departments rookies. i wanted no part in this, but i did feel satisfied after lee was brought down.

YEONJUN : [speaking to minjae] [inaudible]

MINJAE : [speaking to yeonjun] [quietly] don’t tell me to leave high school drama in the past. you didn’t even know why [inaudible] — between me and that group.

JUNGWON : can we bring the discussion back into the group, please?

MINJAE : i’m done here. don’t think i’m not watching you two, especially since you’re still going to school with my sister.

MINJAE : [he gets up and leaves the room]

JUNGWON : yeonjun, are you still available to answer more questions?

YEONJUN : of course, but just a few. we’re supposed to be expecting a big call in about an hour. sorry about minjae by the way. i know he has something against your friends, but im not sure what he has against you two specifically.

RIKI : all good. but, this is something i’ve been meaning to ask. why was jay’s body never found?

YEONJUN : yeah, uh.. the thing about that. jay park was a very unique case. heeseung lee, he was found dead within the first two weeks. only 3% of people stay missing for over a week, with much less chances of being found dead. that alone already had the department spooked. but jay.. 1% of people stay missing for over a month. yet jay was never found. ever.

YEONJUN : over a year after we first received the call, we had to legally declare him as dead. we just didn’t have the resources to keep looking for him. you know how bad crime is in los angeles.. but, i tried. he was so young, i wanted to keep looking. but the department couldn’t afford to.

RIKI : i’ll have to ask you about that part off the record. but, just one last question while i still have you. i notice you kept checking your walkie. why was heeseung’s cause of death never publicized?

YEONJUN : i.. i don’t..

YEONJUN : [sudden distinct noise via walkie talkie, calling his name]

YEONJUN : ah shit. this is the call we’ve been waiting for. i’m really sorry about that last question, but i’ll try to get back to you on that! [he reassures before rushing out the room]

JUNGWON : alone again.

RIKI : wait. do you remember the rules the teacher gave us?

JUNGWON : yeah, why?

RIKI : and you know how she said under no circumstances should we contact any families directly involved?

JUNGWON : you can’t be serious, riki. we are not talking to yn. i don’t get why you’re so obsessed with proving her innocent.

RIKI : because there’s no way it was her. i know yn, she couldn’t even kill a spider. you really think she’d kill her own brother and boyfriend? she loved jay and you know it.

JUNGWON : it’s always the ones you least expect it to be, you know how it is. maybe we didn’t know her as well as we thought.

RIKI : you may not want to talk to her, but i do and will. if you don’t want to help me then so be it. but when i’m done with her, i’ll contact sunghoon —

[ 8:23 of 8:23 recording ]

taglist ! @jiiyen @prettiestgirlontheplanet @hannicorpse @wonsboo @murazbae @stilesks @soobinbunnie5 @blvengene @r1kification @gyuvision @goldenmellow @ariluvssssss100 @who-tf-soddhi @mmurazz @jaemified @strawberrieswithchocolateo3o @heartheejake @hoonsdrnkdzd @wonkixo @yangjungwonnie @tya0

[pandoa]

since childhood!!

you meet as childhood friends

~feat. twst housewardens~ ~twisted wonderland x gender neutral reader~

warnings: reader is not yuu/prefect and is different for each imagine to fit the setting of the boys (ex: reader is fae in malleus', merfolk in azul's, etc.)

if you want more childhood-like fics, i wrote one with ace and jack linked here!

♡the child you meet at a playground and never see again♡

Riddle Rosehearts couldn’t even remember how or when you had joined him, Trey, and Che’nya in their daily time playing outside the nearby neighborhood. He just knew that once he had stepped outside that day—sneaking out of his home during his study time—you, a strange, new child, had been mindlessly throwing a ball to Trey, giggling in the process. Any outsider passing by could have sworn you‘d already known the young trio for years. Odd, but the boy found himself not objecting to your time spent with him and his friends. You were somehow very comfortable to speak with, and Riddle couldn’t help but find your playfulness intriguing.

“Ha! I win again!” you jumped up and cheered with Trey and Che’nya sitting in a small circle as all three of you held up your hands in exhilaration. 

“Congratulations,” Trey said, returning a proud smile. Resting on a grass-filled hill, the three of you helped yourselves to pass the time with a simple game that lasted longer than expected, if you all were to be honest. Riddle—insisting to only observe for the round—caught sight of the way your competitiveness mixed with Trey’s insightfulness and Che’nya’s natural wit. It was interesting. The way you easily conversed with everyone despite only meeting hours ago, he means.

“Hey, red-head!” you then called out to the young boy watching from afar, “Do you wanna play now? I can teach you the basics; It’s really just a hand game.”

Riddle contemplated for a second until walking closer to join the group, “... I suppose I’ll join.”

“Great!” you beamed, “The game’s called Concentration. Basically, we pick a category and all four of us have to go around taking turns saying a word that matches that specific category. Like if it was, for example, colors, then we all could say things like blue, orange, red—you get the gist of it.”

A nod then came from the red-headed child who was now seated next to you.

“The catch, though,” you continued, “is that you cannot at all hesitate when it’s your turn. So no pausing before speaking. This game’s supposed to be quick and fast. Got it?”

“I’m sure I do—?”

“Good! Let’s start.” With a swift clap of your palms, the game had begun as Riddle was practically pushed into the game with your excitement. Truthfully, he had not the faintest clue as to what he had been doing, but he supposed there was no harm in simply trying, yes? 

“Hmmm, the category for this round, then, would be…” you squinted your eyes, appearing to be deep in thought, “Desserts! Go!”

“Vanilla cake,” Trey began.

“Truffles~” sang Che’nya.

“Strawberry tarts,” Riddle quickly replied.

“Crap!”

Crap?

“All this dessert talk made me remember that my parents wanted me to turn off the oven before ever going out! They’re really gonna kill me this time, I just know it!” you panicked as you suddenly explained your predicament, scrambling from the ground to get back up on your feet, “I gotta go, guys! Bye!”

“And don’t think any of you won just yet! It’s a draw until I say so!” you hollered out to the three boys as you left each of them bewildered and confused. Now only being able to see the back of your running form, Riddle found that, just as you had first met them that day, you had similarly disappeared with a clap of your hands like a ghost of a light at midnight.

Riddle wondered if he’d ever see you again. Sevens, he didn’t even get to catch your name.

♡the friend you sneak out with♡

“Why are you so slow? Get moving! I’ve seen sloths move faster than you, dumbo.”

The young Leona Kingscholar, having heard the ceaseless comments coming from your also young form, gave you a classic deadpan only he could display so perfectly within the empty gardens of the Kingscholar palace. No soul had been there as the only living creatures that remained were the critters chirping their music into the night and breeze of the gardens speaking back with delicacy. That, and everyone else within the grandiose palace had been rooms away, probably swaying to whatever music the Kingscholars had orchestrated for the ball that would take place that day. 

“Yeah, well why don’t you quiet down a bit, hm? You’re hurting my eardrums,” the boy replied, rubbing his left ear in annoyance. For the amount of times you both had snuck off with each other, Leona had thought you would have caught on to the main rule of sneaking out: remaining as quiet as possible until it was safe to speak. 

You’ve gotta be kidding me, the chocolate-haired boy thought.

Playfully poking at his side, you began an attempt to tease him even just for a little bit, “Aw, does the little kitty not like it when he hears my oh-so-wonderful voice?”

“Yeah. It’s obnoxious.”

“Hey—!”

“Shhhh!” Leona, albeit quite swiftly, suddenly placed a firm hand against your mouth, causing you both to halt in place behind an unassuming stone wall, “I think the guards are coming…”

Your heart began to race with anticipation. If the palace guards had managed to catch you two escaping a chance to socialize at a royal event, you would never hear the end of it from your families. “... Do you hear them?” a worried whisper mumbled from your nervous figure.

“Mhm, could you keep watch over here?” the boy said as he bent down on his knees, concealing himself whilst facing the other direction, “I’ll go look on the other side.”

Trusting your dear—and sometimes reliable—friend, you peeked your head out from the wall, keeping watch just as Leona said to do. The gardens had been practically deserted; a stillness in the way the gentle wind blew past the branches had almost convinced you that there was, indeed, no one there. 

Was he just… seeing things? you questioned. But your beastman friend would never, right? His senses were probably a thousand times more intuitive than yours. He’d never make such an obvious mistake.

“Uhm, Leona? I don’t think I see any—” you started as your small hand reached out to tap the boy, but not without noticing the way he had been draped against the wall, seemingly knocked-out unconscious as a barely even noticeable drop of drool spilled from his snoring mouth.

“Leona, you lazy wimp!!”

♡the friend you see at one specific place♡

“Are you done yet?”

“No, (Y/n), I am not,” a young octopus-like boy stated as he simultaneously juggled numerous books and papers on all ten of his limbs, particularly focused on the words written on each page. He sat on his own within a shadow-crested octopus pot and looked as if he had not come out of the pot in ages, you observed. Concerning, but nothing new, you thought. “And I won’t be done until far later,” he said, scrunching his face together, “What do you want?”

You mindlessly began poking at a piece of coral, paying no mind to the boy’s slight sass to his tone. “Nothing~ I just thought I could find you here. Turns out I was right.” You watched as Azul helped himself to another book from his rather tall pile, closing another to add to his collection. “Studying again, I see,” a knowing look then escaped your form as your eyes lit with a teasing shine, “Plotting something against me, Azul?”

“I wouldn’t rule out the possibility,” he replied halfheartedly, “Especially if you keep coming here to disturb me.”

You exclaimed, feigning offense, “Never! I’m simply keeping you company.” The boy then peered up to you as you swam closer to him, reminiscing the earlier days of your friendship. “I still remember the first time I saw you here, crying on your own. The growth you’ve had since that day really is admirable—“

“Enough,” Azul shot you an annoyed glare, “It was already unfortunate for you to first meet me as tears welled from my eyes; there’s no need to sugarcoat the memory.”

Jumping at Azul’s assumptions, you worriedly began to amend any insecurities that struck the young boy beside you. “I’m not sugarcoating anything! And crying in front of me that day was nothing to be ashamed of. If I hadn’t heard your voice coming from the pot, I would’ve never come back here each day, let alone know of your existence in the first place.” You let your palm reach forward to hold his—quite soft—face, allowing your innocent touch to spread to him. “You have grown. But it’s okay to cry too, okay?”

“Alright,” Azul mumbled, face still remaining in your small hands. “Anyway,” he continued as he pulled away from your arms, “do you plan on returning home soon? Your family may worry.”

“No, it’s fine,” you shrugged as a soft ocean current moved past the locks of your hair, “I’ll stay here.”

“You don’t have to—“

“I want to.”

Azul had gazed back at you, almost stunned. “If that is what you wish, then be my guest,” he complied.

You then gave him a gentle smile, “Of course.”

♡the friend you find when you are lost♡

“(Y/n)~! Wait for me!” Kalim said, hollering out to your speeding figure under the golden glow of the Scalding Sands as shadows of the plentiful buildings stretched out with the lowering evening sun. What time it exactly was, you did not know. All you had known was that there was still an ample amount of time for you and your new friend, Kalim, to explore the world around you—seeing as the young boy was just as excited as you.

“The town waits for no one, Kalim! It was made for adventure!” you shouted back behind you, almost leaving the white-haired boy for the dust if he had not caught up sooner. “If there’s one thing you should know about this place, it’s that! Or…” a thoughtful pause then cut between your rambles as you stopped in your tracks, “That’s what my grandparents always tell me, at least. Who knows.”

Kalim—who was now standing beside you—then gave you a grin that could send rays of sunshine to shame with its brightness, “Jamil always tells me to never venture to the town, though; maybe he just doesn’t know the kinds of fun that await here!”

“Eh, I know I’ve never met the kid,” warily, your hand began to reach for your other in concern for your newfound companion, “but this Jamil dude doesn’t sound too… fun.”

“Of course he is, he’s my friend!”

“I know he is, but look at us!” you said as you threw your arms up in the air, exclaiming, “We just met today after I saw you wandering off into Sevens knows where, but we still have fun! Jamil, on the other hand, sounds like he stops you from any kind of fun. What kinda friend does that?”

Kalim, still seeming to be unfazed by your concerns as he let out a laugh, shot you his millionth smile of that day, “He means well!”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” you muttered. “Anyway, enough of that! There’s this really cool area in the alleyways I know that’s perfect for—”

“Kalim!” an unknown voice was then heard not too far from the both of you, “Where have you been?!”

“Jamil! There you are!” the young boy to your left called out to the voice as the mysterious figure treaded closer and closer—but not without you tensing up with caution. “This is my new friend—” Kalim started, cheerily pointing towards you.

“I deeply apologize, but there’s just no more time to waste,” the unknown figure, who you now saw had long locks of dark hair, paid no mind to you as he fretted over your giggling friend, “You’re lucky our families haven’t realized you were gone just yet or I’d never hear the end of it. Come, now. We have to get back quickly.”

“Oh, okay!” Kalim swiftly replied as he waved back enthusiastically to you, “I’ll see you again, (Y/n)!”

Yelling your final goodbyes, you saw as the forms of the two children around your age hastily walked back to wherever their home resided, silhouettes following after with the sky setting in front of them. 

Although despite the day concluding on its own, you never could understand why Kalim’s friend, Jamil, was so protective over him. Sure, you thought, the young boy could be a tad oblivious at times—that you could admit—but going so far as to act as a caretaker for the boy as opposed to being a friend? It’s not like Kalim was the son of a very impactful family that needed protection. He’s just a normal kid for Seven’s sake!

Right?

♡childhood rivals♡

Vil Schoenheit had had enough.

Why out of all the students who attended this dance studio, he had to be partnered with you? The young boy had always thought this, what with you two being dance partners despite the clear friction between the both of you since he could remember. The only reason Vil had ever found himself tolerating it was because of the sole fact of your dance instructor’s judgment. You were talented, he reluctantly admitted. And rehearsing with you out of all people would only benefit his own skills in the arts if he ever wished to get anywhere with his strive for perfection.

The pursuit of beauty knows no bounds, Vil thought as he adjusted the strap stabilizing his dance shoes. 

“Vil!” a familiar—but scour inducing—voice then intruded on the boy’s preparation as he turned his face to look at your a-little-too-cheery-for-his-taste form. “It’s so nice to see that you’ve made it to today’s lesson! I remember you were absent last week because of an important commercial shooting, yes? We all missed your…” you halted yourself, unnecessarily emphasizing your words as if to discredit the compliments coming from your mouth, “treasured talent.”

Vil scoffed at your empty sweetness. “I’m sure you did, (Y/n).” The young actor tilted his chin up as if to search for his own thoughts while doing his best to cover the glare he dearly wished to give you at that moment, “Although, you’ll be out next week too, correct? I hear you’ve been casted in a children’s show as a special guest.” The blond-haired child then turned back to the straps of his shoes, mumbling to himself, “... That I also had auditioned for.” 

Feigning ignorance to his bitterness, you continued carrying on the conversation with your precious dance partner—relishing the way he stared at you with envy at your obtained role in the process. “Ah, yes. Well, as you know, showbiz is showbiz, Schoenheit. Not all of us will get what we want,” you gave him a smile he could only read as a way to anger him even more. “Perhaps we’ll both be casted next time. That would be wonderful, would it not?”

“Indeed.”

A single clap from your instructor was enough for the entire studio to grow quiet, signaling the start of class as students began rushing to their places, “Alright, class, it’s time to begin! Places!”

You gave your partner a final grin as the room was filled with music to go with your warm up, “Don’t trip today, Schoenheit.”

“As if I ever would, (L/n).”

♡online friends who’ve never met♡

With technology constantly surrounding him, it was only natural for Idia to have met you in the online world. Where else would a shut-in like himself find some sort of social interaction he'd actually be willing to be a part of?

Gloomurai: korie! u wanna hop on midnite l8ter? live event drops tday

korie66: ayooooo korie66: im down. lez do it >:)

Gloomurai: nice Gloomurai: korie and gloomurai back at it again

Although, he supposed he didn't really know you. Sure, he knew the artificially curated version you would introduce yourself as within the chat logs on public servers. But he had never known the "IRL" version of you, let alone your real name. Still—Idia thought as he sat in front of his blue and black gaming set-up, monitor displaying another game he'd binge that night—it was still nice having a buddy to play numerous games with. A kid like him who had the same interests. A kid who also found freedom within the internet.

korie66: YOOOOOOO GLOOMURAI korie66: GET ON MAGITROPICA RN

Gloomurai: wht? y?

korie66: FREE STUFF

Gloomurai: DONT HAVE TO TELL ME TWICE

Both of your days were spent trading the best items, sharing tips for a new game level, or even just chatting for the fun of it. Each night Idia had even found himself eagerly shuffling to his room, shutting the door behind him, and turning on his PC just to make it in time for your scheduled co-ops.

Eventually, you and Idia had found yourselves much more open with one another as well; a certain kind of trust that could only form with the number of years you had played together. What was the point in finding real-life friends, the young Idia thought as he snagged a bag of chips to eat while playing with you, if he had you to spend time with instead? One friend was all he needed, and you filled that roll perfectly!

Gloomurai: YESSSSSESEES LETS GOOOOO

korie66: NICE GOING GLOOMI~~ WE TOTALLY BEAT THAT LAST BOSS LEVEL LMAO

Gloomurai: YEAH Gloomurai: FR THE BEST DUO

korie66: I SWEAR IM NEVER DITCHING U, GLOOMI korie66: CANT DO ANYTHING W/O YOU LOL

Gloomurai: U BETTER NOT HAAHAHAHAJ

This was all he needed. Your friendship was all he needed.

Idia—now a third year student and housewarden at Night Raven College—sighed as he closed the latest game he'd been playing, cracking his back as he stretched like cat waking up from a deep sleep. Determining it was far too early for bedtime, however, the young man had decided it was a good hour to clear out his PC's memory. It was about time. It had been a while.

Scrolling and deleting through file and files, memories, and unused downloads, Idia had found nothing of importance to him and trashed everything in his path. That is, until he spotted a familiar chat log that read UNSTOPPABLE DUO hidden deep within his message history.

The Ignihyde housewarden gazed at the chat name he knew all too well. A certain feeling then began to rise within his chest as his hand subconsciously guided his mouse towards the familiar icon of your profile picture, still the same as it was years ago.

This is a really bad idea, Idia voiced in his mind. Yet, despite being against his own actions, Idia watched as his own hand clicked your name—only to spot a sea of red text blaring through the screen as he peered at the pixels of his computer:

korie66: Last Active 10 years ago. . .

Idia slumped over in his chair at the text, dejected, "I don't know why I even tried."

Shutting off his monitor, the blue-haired boy then stood from his chair and begrudgingly marched back to his bed, concluding his late night. He hadn't known what he was even expecting, at that point. He'd long knew of your inactivity; it's not like he didn't know what he'd see.

It really was just a shame you never had a chance to meet each other, Idia thought. He supposed, though, that some people were never meant to truly remain friends, to remain together.

And you were no exception to that.

♡the friend you meet by accident♡

“OH SEVENS NOT AGAIN—”

“Hm?” Malleus, who had been peacefully reading a book during his break from his studies, suddenly peered up from his spot in the palace gardens at the alarming shouts coming from the sky. It had been a relatively clear afternoon; one with few clouds in the atmosphere and very few birds soaring above, which only left the young fae even more curious at the panicking screams he could catch from his place beside the flower beds. Gently placing his now discarded book down to the grass, Malleus then made his way closer to the figure as a blur of (h/c) fell from the sky and into a nearby bush.

Thud! 

“Ugh, I knew trying that spell would be a total fail,” the figure, who Malleus could now make out as a fae child around his age, dwelled as they rubbed a couple bruises on their arms, healing themselves. “I guess this is what happens when I don’t listen to Mother, but—"

“Ahem,” Malleus cleared his throat, finally gaining the child’s attention.

“AAAHHH—” you screamed again, only this time with shock at the sight of another living being around you. “Gosh, don’t scare me like that! What if my magic went all kapooey on you?! What would happen then?” you scolded the rather tall boy as you stood up from your previously injured state—skin now pristine due to your magic.

“Hm…” the dark-haired boy before you contemplated your words, “Then I suppose going ‘kapooey’ wouldn’t be very good for me, correct?”

“Exactly! I’m glad we’re on the same page.” You turned your body away from the boy as you inspected your dirt-stained clothes, wincing at the rips caused from your fall into the bush. “I don’t even want to imagine what Mother would do to me if she found out I’d harmed another fae—another child at that, too! Although,” your eyes then followed up the fae’s face and pointed its attention straight towards the two black horns resting atop his head, “you do look a bit different than me… Where are we right now?” No other fae from where you were from had any such horns like his; you were sure of it! You must’ve landed in another land other than your own, if that were the case.

But where, exactly? You thought.

“Briar Valley,” the horned-boy swiftly replied, “The palace, to be exact.”

“Briar Valley?! I must have traveled further than I thought, then!” a frazzled exclaim escaped your mouth as you struggled with your hands to prepare whatever spell had gotten you there in the first place. “I have to go right away! So sorry for intruding, uh…” a hesitant pause ensued as you held out a hand to the child, signaling an introduction from him.

“Malleus. My name is Malleus,” he softly gave you a smile.

You returned his smile with a grin of your own, shaking his hand, “Right. Thank you, Malleus. I’m (Y/n).”

“It was no issue.”

And with your final goodbyes to the fae you’d just met, Malleus then stood and followed your form as you disappeared to Sevens know where. The only remnants left of your presence were the gold, sparkling specs of magic that remained after you casted your spell, filling the palace garden with dust that resembled stars scattered throughout the greenery. Malleus, at the sight of your magic, had then begun to wonder just where you had come from and why you had landed there that day as quickly as you left. 

The chances of seeing you again were slim. Still, however…

“(Y/n),” Malleus had whispered to himself.

“A lovely name for a fae such as themselves, yes?”

a/n: ALL IN FAVOR FOR MORE RIVAL READER X VIL SAY AYEE-AYEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

god this was such a nightmare to finish iM SO GLAD I PULLED THROUGH THO I FR GAVE UP HALFWAY ESPECIALLY WITH IDIA'S-

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

TWST boys with a Diana! Reader?

The reader's a really and I mean REALLY popular and a captivating woman from Siodonna, many rumours were spreading of a beauty from Siodonna yet the TWST boys decided to ignore the rumours, taking them as only bluffs until they met the reader performing in the streets for the poor children. The boys quickly fell head over heels for they're kind nature, and alluring looks. The way those crystal like (Colour) eyes gaze into theirs sending their hearts pounding again their chest. Being lucky enough to marry the woman of their dreams was a big accomplishment but they're happiness was short lived when they found out the risk of the reader dying during childbirth, the TWST boys being selfish asked her to choose them over the child yet the reader didn't have the heart to do so and decided to give her life for the child, only doing as much as witnessing how they're child grew as a wandering spirit and visiting them in their dreams to interact with they're child. How would the guys react when their child(or children) mentioning they're mother's name when they've actually never met or heard of her?? <3

- M. Draconia ; V. Schoenheit ; R. Rosehearts ; L. Kingscholar ; I. Shroud ; L. Vanrouge

"I'm sorry for not choosing you, but I couldn't bare giving it up ( sacrificing an innocent life) either..."

- (Name)

SORRY IT'S BAD, I'M RUSHING THIS 😭😭

Mentioning Your Name | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Its an average day your child casually mentions some advice you gave. It takes them off guard and the problem with lovers as in love as they are suffering from your loss–this can be received very differently:

Malleus Draconia 

“What did you say?”

“I said (Y/n) told me I should try harder to talk to you because your socially immature.”

“....when…when did they say this?”

“In my dream last night, I asked how I was supposed to get you to smile at me and they told me to be ins-st-i-dent?”

He remembers what you said to comfort him before the birth

And honestly if it hadn’t been for that and this child having your smile

He would’ve smited him long ago

But to hear that you’re still here in some capacity

He smiles more 

Speaking into the quiet of the room 

Practically serenading your lingering spirit

“Thats…just like them…”

Vil Schoenheit 

“Wearing those two patterns is a travesty, we won’t be doing plaid with polka-dots–”

“Noooo! B-but I said I would!”

“...To who?”

“To (Y/n) of course I was telling them all about how I’d wear them-”

“Wait wait what did you say?”

He doesn’t believe that you’re meeting in their dreams

Its more than likely one of his close friends slipped up while babysitting

And now they’ve taken the name of their mother for some imaginary friend

Needless to say he’ll get to the bottom of this

Even if it takes a forceful kind of truth serum

“(Y/n)...my half is dead…so whoever they’re speaking to is something else.”

Riddle Rosehearts

“My RULE IS ABSOLUTE TO YOUR ROOM!” 

“(Y/n) would hate you so much!?”

“H-how do y-you–!”

“They said I should be free! That I should be allowed to play with others!”

“Where?! Where did you hear that?!”

He thought that he wouldn’t need to be hurt again

But here you were showing up in your child’s dreams 

But since you’ve left him…what do you words mean now

“You’re not appearing to me and you aren’t here to parent…therefore you’re words barely scrape the height of a suggestion.”

Leona Kingscholar 

“(Y/n) doesn’t think I’m weak!”

“WHAT?!”

“THEY said I’m plenty strong and that you don’t know everything!”

He’ll continue to lock the child away 

Scratching at his post some interloper as he thinks about what his child has said 

“Even across the grave you’re fighting me…can’t do much from where I’m at now can I?”

Idia Shroud 

“Papa I made my own drone…”

“Mmmm.”

“Uhm and uh (Y/n) says that you should maybe look at me when I show you mystuff so…”

“...”

Is floored

Since your departure he’s been torn with hating this child and eliminating anyone who interacts with them

So consumed with grief he shuts himself in his workshop and watches his child relentlessly

He knows them well in fact he’s sure he loves them 

but he can’t stand to speak to them without wanting to cry

So this is all the more painful to him and in his desire to reach out he might end up inventing something meant to capture your wandering spirit

“Just you wait (Y/n), I’ll have you soon.”

Lilia Vanrouge

“Just trust Papa on this you stay inside, my little bat.”

“(Y/n) says you should let me outside more.”

“Oh yeah they really–said…that?”

“Yeah! And that you need to properly comb out my hair you can’t leave it a tangled mess.”

“Hahaha yeah.”

He believes in ghosts, well he knows they exist

So he believes thats what that is about 

And if thats the case than maybe if he suggests somethings for your kid to recite

Maybe he can still reach out to you

“Hey! Hey! Maybe the next time you see them can you tell her how much Daddy loves her?”

[commanderfoxdeservesbetter]

So Far Away: Part 1

Okay I keep reading the fics where Fox is named Dar’Vod after the Fives incident

And it keeps running in my head but imagine:

Rex, in the heat of his anger, calls Fox dar’vod and that’s the last he’s ever spoken to Fox when he’s alive

Their friendship is ruined and Rex, despite regretting the words, doesn’t try to fix the relationship and Fox throws himself into his work to avoid Cody’s prying of what happened

Well, the empire rises and Fox dies by Vader’s hand and Rex survives - guilt-filled - because Fives was right and he doesn’t know if that meant Fox was under the chip when he killed Fives or not and he never got to make amends and figure out the truth (and Rex knows it’s his fault and it’s just another burden added on that he’ll have to carry)

What I’m saying is: Fox stuck in a limbo, unable to march on because being named Dar’Vod means he is unwelcomed

And all the Vod’e - those who have died or are dying - pass him as they go to the Vod’e

Most All have tried to free him, tried to redact the title

Cody, most of all when he died, stated that the title was never meant to be given and Fox should be able to March on and yet when a barrier separates him from his vod’ika, he screams

Even Fives tried coming back to remove the title - talking with Fox for hours about he never blamed Fox for his death but still Fox cannot march on

It’s only when Boba (who died an unfortunate death by Vader earlier than he was meant to and knew a bit more of traditional Mando culture than his clone brothers) tells them only the person who gave Fox the title can remove it

And so the Vod’e wait

They wait and watch as more Vod join them

Echo (which was a cheerful reunion for the Domino squad)

Hunter (who got shot protecting Omega)

Omega (who took it upon herself to off herself to prevent the Empire using her - first thing she did was punch Boba for leaving her behind before learning of his unfortunate death which still makes her mad but not as much)

Howzer

Thire (the last of the Corries to have died but he gave a hell of a fight)

Bacara and Neyo

More and more and it dwindles to only four clones left

Gregor comes first, cackling and the 212th rejoice his return

Wolffe follows and he gets his Wolffepack back

Rex is stubborn though

He clings to life like it’s all he has, searching for the last clone because he refuses to leave a brother behind

Ahsoka helps him where she can, pointing him in directions that she can vaguely feel Kix but she has her own battles

And Rex searches

And he remembers

And regrets

And says his remembrances

He always includes Fox in his remembrance because while he was young in the war, time has brought a new perspective to their life and he knows that Fox was young too

Young and under the thumb of Palpatine

And so he searches and remembers and regrets

[shirefantasies]

I Now Pronounce You…Confused- Bofur x F!Reader

I’m really excited for this one! Found a hilarious trope prompt and one of my favorite shows has done this at least once too 😆

Warnings: mentions of alcohol/intoxication, suggestive jokes

Every pound of your head came like the cruelest heartbeat, painfully reminding you you were alive. A little too alive, frankly. It had been a long time, maybe even never, since you had indulged such as you’d chosen to the previous night, distracting yourself enough for the bottle to throw you right into the…cot? Bed?

Oh, stars. Bolting upright, you flung the blanket that was half-draped over your body off, realizing with the motion of your arm and the uncovering of your body that you were, in fact, still in the dress and pinafore you’d remembered putting on the previous day, not a scratch anywhere on you or it. Well, thank the heavens for that at least.

For that as well as the emptiness of the bedroom of sorts you were in. Perhaps you had simply gone awash and someone had walked you back there for a rest. Yes, that had to be it, you reflected as you slowly rose to your feet, slinging one leg followed by the other off the edge and gripping one of the posts for balance. Blast your splitting skull. Blast it all!

But judging by the doorway carved into the far sight of your square little brown quarters, at least there was what appeared to be a small washroom attached to the bedchambers. If not all hope was lost, anyway. Tugging your shifted skirts straight about your waist again, you tentatively squeaked across the old floorboards, glancing up at the molding around the ceiling. Very pointy-looking flowers and the like. That was right, you’d made your way to New Dale.

A traveler. That was what you were. Hadn’t found any reason to settle down yet, and if you’d made as much of a fool of yourself as you suspected, this place would be no exception. New Dale was to be the final stop on the way to see the infamous Lonely Mountain anyway, not much of a potential home, but right close and certainly availed of drink, not to mention quite the handsome mayor. Or whatever that Bard called himself.

At any rate, more than ready were you to disappear through that doorway and, with any luck, into a nice cool bath. You made your way over to it, but right as you made to step through another figure emerged, almost stepping into you, rocking back, and giving a call of shock to match yours.

He was a dwarf by the looks, and mainly height, of him, one a bit your senior and most distinctly wearing a great big hat that made you want to try it on so badly your hand twitched as if to make to swipe it off his head.

“‘N who might you be?”

The dwarf asked, tone not at all accusing, quiet as though he was as hungover as you, and frankly sounding more amused than anything else. The lilt of it carried an unspoken hint of ‘why not?’.

A rhetorical question you were more than happy to answer right back with one. “Were you in here all night?”

The dwarf looked taken aback by that, brown brows rising suddenly, seemingly before he could stop them. “Not like you’re thinking unless you aren’t thinking what I think you’re thinking. I don’t think.”

“What?”

“Can’t remember much of last night,” the dwarf answered, a gloved hand pressing to his hatted head, “but if you’re worried about how well we got to know each other last night, frankly I don’t even know if we got to names!”

You shook your head. “We mustn’t have, for I have not the foggiest what yours could be.”

At that, he smiled and you really took him in, realized what a kind and cheery-looking fellow he was. “Then let these introductions be all the sweeter. Bofur at your service, madam.” As punctuation he bowed at the waist, a hand flipping to extend toward you.

Letting out a chuckle, you gave your name, took his hand and felt your brow rise in surprise at the way he boldly brought your hand to his lips. It brought a smile to them, though, and with that out of the way Bofur waved a hand and bid you use of the washroom, which you gladly took up.

Should you have used the tub fully? Probably, but as it was you were still just a hint unsteady on your feet and drawing water sounded about as appealing as kissing a dragon right about then. Alright, maybe not that bad, but unpleasant enough. As it was you opted to take up a clean white rag and simply scrub yourself up as best you could, harsh hands grating soft fabric against your skin. The soap bar was simple, but a hint of orange blossom carried into the air around you as it bubbled lightly onto your moist body.

Upon finishing, you tugged your clothes back on, wrinkling your nose at the contrasting smell of wear pulling once more onto freshened skin. Drying your hands and lacing your shoes, you made your way back out, taking a curious peek around the doorway as if Bofur had been the product of a wild hangover dream.

Standing a short distance from the corner, the dwarf stood and waved a hand, offering a little smile. Not a figment of your imagination, then. Tentatively you waved back.

"We must've both just nipped off here to sleep it all away without realizing."

"Well, I guess that makes us roommates!" Bofur replied jovially, eyes turning upward with the joy of his smile.

"I guess so," you agreed, giving a smile of your own and emerging from your accidentally-shared room at his side.

Another enemy: a staircase. With a little 'whoa', Bofur pitched a little forward, grasped your forearm for stability, and gave a little hum of satisfaction before holding on completely. Your own rolling brain was silently grateful for the extra balance, the warm weight against you as you gripped the banister's smoothness. Joined like that you arrived down at the bottom and turned into the tavern, which already housed a mild bustle of patrons and servers.

One such woman came up to your side soon after you separated, hands joined at her waist and cheeks beaming with...pride? But what could she possibly-

"Well, if it isn't the newlyweds!" She exclaimed, sunshine positively beaming from all sides of her voice. "Frankly I am a bit surprised to see you out so soon. Well, no matter! Shall I prepare a spot of breakfast for the happy couple?"

"You're joking," Bofur snorted, "Right? We don't even know each other!"

"We met for the first time upstairs just now," you added, nodding agreement before turning back his way, "But I am sure we would enjoy some breakfast, thank you!"

"What are you talking about? You wed last night! No rings or anything, the two of you simply could not wait any longer! Quite romantic."

"I don't understand," Bofur said, gaze swinging up between you and this other woman, "We just got each other's names. Must've been another dwarf."

Leading you to your table, the woman spoke your names before you'd given them, reciting vows that named a brother and cousin Bofur had yet to mention at all, but that he'd apparently thought you'd like last night. Even though according to him the cousin, Bifur, needed some taking care of. Probably didn't hold his ale well. Your vows included an old joke about how you thought you'd be married in trousers, which was something you'd said to your family as a little kid. The name you'd been sure your future husband would have when you were twelve years old. All things this strange woman could never have known. Unless, of course, you'd spoken them last night drunk out of your mind.

"By my beard," Bofur breathed, clearly having come to the same conclusion, "We really did get married! Who in their right mind let us do that? Drunk as skunks, we were!"

"Probably the town justice you shook down 'Until I am bound to this fine woman for all eternity'," the server giggled as you wobbled into your seats, eyes still wide, "So, er, eggs then? Sausage? Bacon? Flapjacks?"

"All of the above," your companion sighed, eyes remaining locked on yours, "And whatever your strongest tea is, please."

"Just tea?" You asked with a sardonic smirk.

"Never got that hair of the dog stuff. 'Sides, don't want to end up like last night again, eh?"

"Maybe if we do it again we'll get divorced."

"I dunno, seems the liquor made us like each other a whole lot more."

"Could've liked each other even better," you quipped drily, glancing down at your clothing.

"You've got me there," Bofur chuckled.

He said nothing more as you waited for your tea, but some barely perceptible shift had occurred in his eyes, which occasionally shot down lower onto your form and then right back up again like they'd been slapped. Your own gaze wavered from his eyes a bit, tracing the line of his mustache down and back up again. He drummed his fingers in some unknown rhythm against the table's wood surface, glancing back up at you with some unspoken question you weren't sure if you wanted to answer.

"Your tea! Tea for two!"

Tension thoroughly cut, you both tore your eyes from each other to meet those of that same server once again, this time setting down a laden with tea things. Beaming at you again, she set a little white cup banded with green and gold, the center of each ribbon bearing lilies. White lilies, of course.

"Get it?"

"Yes," you groaned.

"Ah, lilies, that's clever," Bofur remarked, holding a cup up to his face and chuckling, "'S good, save for the fraudulence and falsehood of it all. Say, do you guys have honey?"

"Of course."

And with that, it was just you two again, you two and the tray and the steaming teapot that matched your cups. Was Bofur not feeling the pit of dread that sunk within you or was he truly that good at masking it? Or maybe he was truly so confident in your situation's coming reversal.

"So I suppose we track down that same justice to nullify this all?" You asked, staring down at your cup under the guise of ensuring nothing of your refreshment spilled.

"Supposing so," Bofur answered, accepting your proffered teapot from across the table, although he refrained from pouring anything, likely in anticipation of the honey, "For now, we may as well enjoy a nice meal, eh? I hear the flapjacks here are especially good."

"Oh? From who?"

"From my love of flapjacks! Now come on, how's about we get to know each other a little? Daresay we're a special kind of friends now. What brings you to New Dale? Business?"

"Quite the opposite," you snorted, leaning back until one of your chair's hard corners poked into the flesh of your back, forcing you to shift quickly to maintain an appearance half as nonchalant as Bofur's, "I had no more reason to go here than anywhere else save my own desire. New Dale was actually just a stop on the way to visit the mountain."

“Mountain?” Bofur asked, brows raised in great interest. “The Lonely Mountain? Erebor? That mountain?”

“Yes,” you giggled, “Any other names you’d like to give or is the hangover leaving your body now?”

“Well, what did you want to see? I’ll have you know your husband lives there."

"Let me see, the architecture, the history, that great mass of gold and gems I've heard so much about, all the beautiful things only dwarves can make."

"Men can make beautiful things, too," Bofur answered, "After all, they made you."

For once, your mind could not conceive of a single protest.

~

In the shadow of the Lonely Mountain you and Bofur strolled, Bofur pointing out the meaning of this flag and that statue until you had entered the great stone bulk and stared in awe at massive columns of whatever greenish stone and flying colors from a great indoor marketplace. In-mountain. Whatever the lot of it was, it did not smell nearly as dusty and dry in there as your imagination had conjured- how’d they keep it so nice?

Whilst there, Bofur bought you a souvenir. In drifting over the assortment of carven wood implements, your eyes slid back to a great stein numerous times. Inhaling the scent of the sawdust littering the floor behind the crafts-dwarf, you skimmed completely over spoons and even little statues of creatures of the woods to look at the thing, the thing finished smooth and set with some rune. One of joy, according to Bofur.

"You like it."

"No, I don't." A glance at the seller, then back to Bofur. "Well, yes I do, but I don't know if I can-"

Coins spilled onto the table. One, two, three.

"I can. I want you to have it. It reminds me of you, all things considered.”

“Drunken night?” The seller chuckled, crossing his arms and darting his eyes between you two as a smile spread beneath his bushy beard.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Bofur answered with a chuckle before you could put in your own proverbial cent.”

“A stein?” You asked him as you walked off, waving the great big thing like the world’s stumpiest flag. “That’s my symbol now?”

“Come now,” Bofur tutted your name softly, giving a nonchalant little shrug, “‘s just a joke. If you don’t want to be known by this, then tell me what your favorite thing is.”

You’d think he was the homeless one for all his Mahal-may-care attitude, and yet there he was, relaxed and himself inside this mountain with his own people. For once you envied the static life, aching for something beyond the next port-of-sorts as you looked into his eyes.

“Swans.”

“What?”

“I’ve traveled a lot. But one village I saw I’ll never forget. It stood at the foot of a lake, and when you sat along the water you could watch all the white swans paddling across the water. It was so shiny and blue and they were so graceful. Not that they couldn’t kill you on land, but out there on the water? Anyone’d wanna be one of them.”

“I can see it,” Bofur told you, head tilted a bit.

“Really?”

“Sure,” he waved a hand, “You’re just like that! Pretty but don’t make ya mad. I like that. And say, I have just the thing for you then, Swan Lady, and it’ll be much better than some ol’ beer mug!”

Swan Lady. You liked that. It echoed through your head as you smiled and followed Bofur's eager lead deeper into the mountain.

‘Better than a beer mug’ was an understatement- Bofur led you beneath a doorway carven with bear cubs and birds and even little dwarven silhouettes, hanging banners of deep blue and yellow contrasting the stone. Light poured from it, a bright yellow light that still somehow stayed cozy. Firelight. A lot of little firelights. Through the welcoming waves of the carvings was an assortment of shelves lining every wall. Each of them was filled with different delights: porcelain figurines crowned in painted gold, wooden swords with unique hilt ornaments, wolves on wheels with strings matching the colors of their yellow eyes, grey fur, or red maws. Spinning mobiles hung from the ceiling in the form of anything from Erebor’s thrushes to whimsical winged ponies spinning in little skybound derbies. Where, you wondered, should your eyes fall next? Not to the mirrors, carved and waved for distorted reflections. You were still a little too hungover for that.

Bofur answered that question, softly catching your attention with your name before he waved you to a corner shelf. “Look here.”

Tearing your eyes from a squat wooden dwarf knight, you followed Bofur, only to see another pull-along toy, this time white. A swan with neatly carved feathers and eyes serenely shut. Capturing just what you’d described. Well, save for the wrath awaiting anyone annoying. It didn’t need it, though. Not this one.

A smile spread across your face, the stein in your hand lowering forgotten. “You’re right.”

“I am?”

“Of course you are.” You elbowed him playfully.

“I can’t believe it!” Bofur exclaimed with a grin. “Oh, here, come meet its makers, then. My cousin and my brother.”

For some reason, the thought of meeting Bofur’s family brought a little rush of heat. Meeting people wasn’t usually any pressure. Why a couple of toymakers?

Why indeed. Bombur and Bifur were right nice, even if the elder one didn’t speak. He got his point across well enough, and how he’d blushed when you complimented his beautiful swan! The pull-along he gifted you, sending a wink Bofur’s way.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Bofur said again, but that time with a soft smile and gaze that didn’t pull away from yours.

~

Erebor’s halls were so vast as to almost feel outside despite their clear lack of sunlight or clouds or any such natural effect beyond stone, stone, and more stone. The air was clearer than any cave you’d been in- there must’ve been some sort of ventilation system. Fascinating. It made you want to build one of those wild mining pulleys they had just to shoot yourself to the top and crawl around for it. A few dwarves barreled past you and Bofur, almost knocking you over had his gloved hand not gripped yours. A grip as warm as you’d expected. Not that you’d imagined it. Nor had you imagined the way his voice softened when he told you “just in case”, eyes flicking tentatively up to yours.

“So, how’d you like Erebor?” Bofur’s voice shook your brain by its shoulders, dropping it from its thoughts and sensations of still-gripped hands.

“It was amazing,” you told him, strolling ever slower on your way back to New Dale, “I almost didn’t want to leave! Thank you for everything: showing me around, the gifts, better company than I deserved. I wasn’t the fairest this morning.”

“You- You- Well,” Bofur rubbed the back of his neck before dropping his hand down to take yours, “Plenty fair for me. In fact, can I tell you something?”

Inhaling deeply, you swallowed, something in those hazel eyes yanking a rush of words from deep in your chest. Erebor deep. Deeper than you ever thought you’d go. Deep enough that you almost feared it. You’d gotten outside the justice’s office, great grey-painted door looming before you like a heavy cloud.

“I have to tell you something too,” you told him.

“I want to stay married,” you both blurted out simultaneously.

Bofur’s jaw dropped. He gaped at you for several sped heartbeats before snapping out of it, shaking his hatted head and breaking into the widest, giddiest grin you’d ever seen. That morning you might have called it a dumb one. Right then? All you could say was how beautiful a sight it was. How it looked like home. That very thing you’d taken for granted for all those years thinking nowhere would feel like it. No one would want you. And yet with Bofur by your side it was like all those thoughts had gone poof into the pile of ash he told you the dragon had almost made of his company.

Before you could say anything, though, a pair of warmly clad hands took hold of your hips, yanking you against a fur coat and into the softest, most eager lips that could have devoured you. So intent on such were you, in fact, that you didn’t catch the squeak of a door until a man’s voice interrupted you, forcing you to pull apart, although Bofur’s hold on you remained fast.

“Still can’t keep your hands off each other, can you?” The man, presumably the justice, not that your faulty ale-hazed memory was any help, chuckled. “Newlyweds.”

“Newlyweds,” you agreed, speaking again in unison and gazing into each other’s eyes, your arms reaching to stroke Bofur’s.

“We’re crazy, aren’t we?” Bofur teased.

“Positively drunk on love.”

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[moody-alcoholic]

These Violent Delights

Chapter 14 - Save Me

Summary: Poly 141 x fem!reader, a/b/o alternate universe 7.2k words. Let's save Piper! Go team!

CW: a/b/o alternative universe, a/b/o dynamics, typical a/b/o universe tropes, torture, descriptions of torture, descriptions of wounds, death, use of weapons, HORRIBLE military inaccuracies, dissociation, blood, medical inaccuracies, panic attacks, talks of death, Mr Jonathan “I can justify my actions” Price, bombs, angst, all hurt no comfort, fuckin’ Graves and his shadows are everywhere like a cancer.

AN: Name a chapter the omega hasn't cried in... I'll wait.

Previous - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy!

Dr. Piper opens her eyes properly for what feels like the first time in hours. She’s alone in the room, though the camera is still set up. She looks down at her arm. He’s still bleeding her; she’s being killed by her own invention, a repurposed dialysis machine built to keep just enough blood out of her body so she can’t heal her wounds. Fitting really. 

She feels weak and her head is swimming. He can’t keep her hooked up to this much longer or it will kill her. Maybe that’s his plan? She wishes he would just shoot her, at least that way it would be quick. She wouldn’t be so lucky though. He needs to keep her alive. 

She looks around the room. The lights are harsh, bright white in her eyes. She remembers him recording the video, or at least him yanking her hair around. She can remember his demands too. It’s supposed to be a swap. It’s the worst case scenario. 

She made sure to put in the letter to John not to come and save her. She knew this was a death sentence, all to keep the omega safe. You are safe and you have your pack to protect you. It doesn’t matter what happens to her. She just wants to get this over with quickly. 

Hale gave them 48 hours. That means she’s going to have to suffer through this for at least another 2 days. The pain’s not too bad, when she doesn’t move. Her heart aches for you, though she knows you’re in the best possible place and with the best possible people. She hopes you’re on your way to the UK or wherever John thinks it's safe. 

She’s not religious but she’s praying to any God who’ll listen to keep you safe. 

The door to the room opens and Hale walks in. He’s changed clothes. There are no windows, no clock. She’s been unconscious too many times to try and keep track of what time it is or how long she’s been here. He puts a bottle of water down on the table, and it makes Piper's mouth go suddenly dry. She can’t remember the last time she had a drink. 

“No word yet,” Hale sighs. 

Piper looks up at him. Good. What is she supposed to say, ‘oh well, let's make another video.’  She doesn’t even want to look at him. 

“I guess you didn't really wait long before setting her up with an alpha,” he scoffs. She can hear the irritation in his voice. Yeah, she did it on purpose. Maybe John had figured it out, maybe not. She needed you to be in a pack to keep you safe. You needed to be claimed by an alpha, and she needed to make sure it was as difficult as possible for the Professor to get to you.

“Why bother with the contraceptive suppressants?” 

“A purebred is still pure, it doesn't matter who the alpha is,” he replies. 

She scoffs, shaking her head. 

“She would never have been able to carry to term. Her whole reproductive system is a mess,” she says, remembering what she saw on the ultrasound.

“I’m sure we would have been able to figure something out. You’re a good doctor,” he says, smiling. It makes her feel sick. She shakes her head, looking away. She’s a doctor first but she would never subject you to the surgeries he’s thinking about. 

“Do you remember the research we did on the betas? The one with the claiming?” Hale asks, picking up the water bottle and opening it. She nods at him. She learned how to do autopsies that week.  A smile grows on his face. It makes her angry—he shouldn’t be smiling. 

“We never quite figured it out did we?” he says, talking about their work like they’re old pals. He takes a sip out of the water then walks over to her. He brings the bottle up to her lips. She keeps her lips closed. She won’t take anything from him. 

“I don’t want you becoming dehydrated. You’re a doctor. Don’t be stupid,” he says. She looks up in his eyes, his dark, tired eyes. The eyes she used to see determination in.  She used to think he held the world in his hands, that the scientific marvels they would discover would change the world. Then you came along and his vision changed, and he became obsessed with creating the perfect omega. 

She wont accept anything from him again. 

He sighs, gripping her hair, yanking her head back. Her body tenses as he moves his hand to her jaw keeping her head in place as he forces the bottle past her lips. She doesn’t have time to clench her teeth as he forces the bottle in her mouth squeezing. 

She immediately chokes on it, water filling her mouth and nose, slipping down into her windpipe. He squeezes until the bottle is empty, most of the water being forced back out her mouth. She’s coughing and spluttering as she gasps for air. 

“I guess you learned to be stubborn from the omega,” he says, throwing the empty bottle on the floor. “I knew I should have never let you get close to her.” He sounds angry, his mood changing. His fuse is getting shorter. He’s getting impatient. 

“Why don’t you get it over with now then. You’re going to kill me anyway, there’s no swap,” she says between gasps, her throat raw. 

“I know that,” he says scoffing. “I expect the 141 to come here and try to save you. Then the omega will be left all alone in a base surrounded by people I pay.” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. I’m not worth anything to them,” she says, her voice shaky. 

“Sure you are. You’re their key to a cure,” he laughs. She looks at him as he walks back over to the door.

“Besides, they’re soldiers. They like to think they're the good guys. Rescuing you or letting you die? Which do you think they’re picking?” he asks, laughing again as he opens the door. 

“And when they turn up and kill you? Then what?” she spits back at him. 

“Four of them against all the security I have here? I’m not worried. You should be though, because when I get the omega back, I’m still not sure if I want to keep you around. We never did test what happens when a bond is forcefully broken.” His voice is low, the smile still on his face as he leaves the room, slamming the door behind him. 

She hangs her head. She was blindfolded when she was bought into the building. She has no idea what kind of system he has or how many people are here. She sighs letting fear rise in her. She knows he’s right. She knows they’re going to come. They are good people. They’re going to risk their lives to save hers. 

She doesn’t deserve it. She doesn’t deserve the rescue. She hopes John will listen to her message and just flee. It’s the only way you’ll be safe. Hale can’t chase you forever, especially when you’re being protected by your pack. 

John’s hands are gripping the cup as he hears your wails. Simon and Kate are sat at the table, Kate looking through the intel she’s managed to find on Hale’s Seattle home. His head is spinning. You’re in pain, mental and physical. He can’t do anything about it other than try and get Dr. Montgomery back.

It’s risky. You’re not safe when they’re not around you. Based on what Kate has been able to dig up, the place is definitely going to be protected. He needs everyone for the mission to be successful, which means he’ll be leaving you alone with Kate. 

He sighs, taking another sip of his tea. It’s cold, but he doesn’t care. Simon looks over at him, then back down at his own mug. He’s struggling. They all are, and maybe it’s normal. You being upset must affect the pack's mood in some way. He wishes Dr. Montgomery was here to help, or at least to explain. 

Kyle comes out of John's room.

“Did she sleep through the night?” John asks. Kyle shakes his head. John sighs watching him going into the bathroom. 

He’s not sure how long Johnny has been with you. The sobbing seems to have died down, though. Kyle comes out of the bathroom going over to the kettle. There’s a heavy feeling in the air. They can’t talk about their plans here. Simon and Johnny searched the place but they couldn’t find anything. John still doesn’t trust it. 

Kyle is boiling the kettle when Johnny comes into the common room with you in his arms. John’s heart breaks when he sees your pale, bandaged figure pressed up against his chest. He walks over to the sofa placing you down. You’re murmuring something under your breath as he pulls the blanket over your shoulders.

“S’aright lass, let’s get you that cuppa.” 

Your murmuring stops as he says that, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. 

You look over at the table. You can see Kate and Simon's backs. Then there’s John sat at the head of the table. He looks over at you, and sadness bubbles up inside of you. You look away. The house on the hill, the pies, the lake, the summer’s evening. Johnny comes back, placing the cup of tea on the coffee table in front of your face. 

You don’t want it but you can smell it.  Johnny always makes it extra sweet. Johnny kneels down next to your head stroking your hair. He lets out a sigh.

“You need to try and drink something,” he says. 

You blink at him. You're not thirsty. You don’t want anything. You look away from him at the mug of tea. Johnny sighs, getting up and going to the kitchen table. 

It’s just so much pain. You keep your eyes on the mug watching the steam swirl in the air. 

“When are we leaving?” Simon asks. They’re keeping their voices low. You don’t know if you want to know what's going on. You close your eyes and you’re back in your happy place. 

The house on the hill, the pies, the lake, the summer’s evening. 

You didn’t mean to fall asleep but you wake to John squeezing your shoulder. The mug of tea is still there. Your arm is numb. You force yourself to sit up. The moment you move John’s hands are on you helping you. You look round the room. It’s just John but you can see they’re getting ready to leave. Bags and weapons strewn everywhere.

“You’re leaving,” you say.

John sits next to you. 

“We’re going to get her back. We’re going to get her back and kill Hale,” he says, squeezing your thigh. You nod, trying to keep the relentless tears back. There’s a pain deep in your core, a throbbing in your body, something you’ve never felt before. It’s because your pack is going away. They’re going away to do something dangerous.

“Kate will stay with you.” His hand comes to your chin pulling your face to look at him. “You have to promise me if anything happens you will listen to her. You’ll follow her instructions. She’ll take care of you.” 

You nod, fear gripping you for a second. His expression softens. 

“Please save her,” you whisper, choking down the sob rising in your throat. He reaches over, pressing his lips onto yours. It's been a while since he kissed you. Even during your heat it doesn’t happen that much. You let yourself relax focusing only on the kiss, his soft lips, his warm tongue. You melt into it, letting him caress your tongue with his.

His hand runs up your back, firm and warm as it stops on your shoulder blades. You don’t want the kiss to end, you want to stay in this perfect moment forever with your alpha. He pulls away when your tears reach your lips. He looks at you sympathetically, thumb coming to brush the tears away. 

“Do you trust me?” he asks. You nod. “Good, then trust that we will bring her back. I promise.” He presses a kiss on your forehead and gets up. You lay back down pulling the blanket over you as silent tears run down your face. You watch as he leaves the building and Johnny and Kyle come in to collect the bags.

John walks over to Kate talking to Simon. They stop talking as he approaches. 

“Are you sure you want to do this John, she did say not to come after her,”  Kate says. 

“We’re going after Hale too,” he reminds her. Simon crosses his arms.

“You know what to do. As soon as Shepherd gives the order you take her and run,” John says. 

“The truck’s hidden 2 klicks south. Here are the keys,” Simon says, handing them to Kate.

“You’re sure no one knows about it?” she asks.

“No. If it’s gone, head to the rendezvous point anyway. We’ll find you,” John says. She puts the keys in her pocket, reaching into her back pocket bringing out a phone. 

“Keep it off until you need it, you know the drill,” she says, handing John the burner phone. He smiles at her. 

“Stay with her, and do not let anyone near her,” Price says. “Try and keep her calm, if she panics—” 

“She’ll distress, I know I’ve been reading Montgomery's USB. Go John, she’ll be fine,” Kate says, almost pushing him towards the car where Johnny and Kyle are waiting. 

“Here,” John reaches to his side, handing her a pistol. He trusts her. He knows she’ll keep you safe, but it doesn’t make it any easier. They know as soon as Graves gets the word they’re at Hale’s house, Shadow Company will be after them. 

John nods at Kate and heads over to the car. He looks over at the barracks one more time. He knows the likelihood of them going back there is low. He gets in the back, Gaz already taking the driver's seat. 

“Laswell will take good care of her,” Soap nudges him. He looks up in the rearview mirror. His eyes meet Gaz’s and he nods. The car drives off. 

He really hopes that he’s making the right choice. 

It’s raining. Of course it is. The rain seemed to start the moment they made it onto the motorway. The sky turned darker as they drove the hour-long trip. The ride had been mostly silent. Even Soap’s chipper attitude seemed mulled out. 

When they made it to the location, the sky was almost black. Price checked his watch. It was almost 5, and it would be getting darker soon. That’s good, they can use that to their advantage. They park down a dirt access road hidden from the main road. 

The road runs about a kilometer, and then it’s dense forest all the way up to his house. The place is guarded by Shadow Company. There should be 10 or so people, not including Hale and Montgomery. They all get out of the car, picking up their weapons, putting on the rest of their gear. 

Ghost swings his sniper over his shoulder, checking his watch. He looks over at Price who nods.

“Ghost, head east. There’s an abandoned outhouse at the end of the drive that should give you a good vantage point to set up.” Ghost nods heading off into the woods as John heads to the north, following the dirt path until it merges with the trees.

When they make it to the house, it’s bigger than Price thought it was going to be. Modern and brand new. How he can afford all this, Price will never understand. He must have a mansion in every state at this point. Dr. Montgomery was right, no matter where they went, Hale would chase them, and you would never be safe.

They all kneel down in the bushes to the side of the high wall. The whole place is surrounded by walls, the only opening being the front gate. 

“Remember, the moment we make our move we’re on a timer. We find Dr. Montgomery and Hale then we get out.” Price says over the radio. “How are we looking Ghost?” 

“Got two Shadows on the main gate. You’re clear to jump that wall.” 

Price nods at Gaz who gets in place to boost Soap over the wall. Price hears him land on the other side before taking his turn. He turns at the top of the wall reaching down to help Gaz over. 

They all land in bushes keeping their backs to the wall. 

“Need help dealing with the Shadows?” Price asks.

“Negative. Side entrance looks clear,” Ghost says. 

“Copy,” Price says and they start to move over to the side door. At least the rain has slowed. Soap tests the handle and it’s open. Price nods and they go in. There are some lights on. They move in silence as they make their way through the rooms. The place is almost barren of any furniture, and what is placed around the massive rooms is covered with plastic sheets. 

“Think he’s renovating?” Soap whispers behind Price who shushes him as they reach a closed door. There is light coming through it. Gaz toes the door open an inch and Price can hear voices, at least 2 people, but he can’t see anything through the crack. He looks round at them both before nodding and putting his hand on the door.   

He pushes on the door as Soap and Gaz rush into the room. Two shots, two people down. They keep walking down the corridor. This place is like a maze and they haven’t even been upstairs yet. Price takes the lead as they continue through the rooms. 

It’s corridor after corridor, temporary walls and scaffolding all over the place. The smell of fresh paint is strong in the air. They make it through to a larger room. The whole place looks like it’s being fitted like a lab. It reminds Price of his old chemistry classroom back in school. He’s building a new lab. 

That's why they’ve been helping Shepherd track down ex-colleagues.

Price continues to lead through the rest of the ground floor, and they take out 3 more Shadows. Plus the 2 when they entered and the 2 on the gate Ghost took care of, there shouldn’t be many left. No sign of the Professor though. The corridors lead back around to the lab. They haven’t been upstairs yet but there’s a large metal door. 

Price goes over to open it and it’s a stairwell leading down. If Dr. Montgomery and Hale were going to be anywhere, it would be in there. 

Price goes down first. As he rounds the corner he sees a Shadow, firing off a shot taking him down before he has a chance to turn and see them. He continues down the narrow corridor. There are doors on each side. The first one is empty. The second, one more Shadow. There are fewer than Price thought there would be. It’s almost too quiet. 

“Soap, go back and shut the door,” Price says. They don’t need anyone sneaking up on them. Price peeks around the bend in the corridor. There is one room and then the corridor ends. Price turns back, pushing on the next door. 

When he looks in he sees Dr. Montgomery. She is still tied to the chair. She lifts her head up.

“I told you not to come,” she says, but there’s a smile on her face. Gaz puts his weapon down going over to her.

“Where is Hale?” Price asks. 

“Upstairs maybe. I didn’t exactly get a guided tour,” she says, gritting her teeth while Kyle cuts her ties. 

“The machine. You have to press the green arrow on the screen,” she says, nodding over to it. 

Price keeps looking down the hall.

“Ghost, we’ve found her. How's things looking out there?” Price says. 

“Quiet, no movement,” he responds. 

Soap comes round the corner, almost making Price jump. He turns back to look at Gaz and Dr. Montgomery. She looks beat up, pale, and she's attached to the machine next to her. 

“What’s that?” Price asks coming into the room and letting Soap take point on the door. 

“Drains my blood, making sure I don’t have enough in my system to heal myself.” She says leaning back on the chair. 

“The Professor sure is resourceful,” Gaz says, rolling his eyes. 

“It was my invention actually,” she says. Soap looks back at her frowning. “Did you forget that I'm not one of the good guys for a second?” 

“We need to get out of here,” Price says. She nods moving to sit forward in the chair.

“Soap, go check ahead. We still haven’t located Hale yet,” Price says going over to the door. 

Soap nods heading down the corridor. 

“Just pull it,” she says. Price turns to see Gaz holding her arm. She has bandages in her free hand. He lets out a breath and pulls something out of her arm. She grits her teeth letting out a groan as she places the bandages on her other arm. 

“You sure you’re okay?” Kyle asks. She moans nodding as she moves to stand up.

“Yeah,” she says as Gaz helps her to her feet. She’s unsteady, even swaying against him as he gets his arm under her armpit, so she can lean on him. An alarm rings out. 

“Soap!?” Price calls through the radio. 

“It’s not me!” he calls back.

“What’s going on?” Ghost asks. Price looks back at Gaz helping Dr. Montgomery. Fresh blood is dripping onto the floor. 

“Stand-by,” Price says as Soap comes back around the corner, Price leads with Soap watching their 6. They need to get out of here. Whatever set off the alarm it can’t be good. 

“Price you’ve got Shadows driving to the house,” Ghost says. Shit. There is no way Graves is here already. They must have been nearby. Not like the Professor to host his security inside his mansion. 

“Soap go ahead see if you can stop the alarm!” Price calls. Soap nods, pushing his way past them. Price waits at the top of the steps letting Soap go out first.

“How many Ghost?” He asks.

“10, maybe more, civilians too,” Ghost replies. 

Great, now they have to worry about civilians. He looks back down at Gaz supporting Dr. Montgomery. Gaz nods at him and they push through the door into the lobby.

Kate is nervous, and you’ve never seen her nervous before. She’s tapping her foot as she types on her laptop. It’s making you nervous. You get up off the sofa, wrapping the blanket around you and go to the table to sit with her. 

She looks up from her laptop as you do. You smile at her and she smiles back. 

“How long do you think they will be?” you ask. 

“I don’t know. They will call when they’re done.” 

“Do you think they can kill the Professor?” 

“Yes. They’ve had to do harder things,” she says looking at you.

“Like what?” you ask, curious. 

“Maybe you should ask John about that kind of stuff,” she says.

“What about you? Are you a soldier?” You realize you don’t know that much about Kate. 

“CIA,” she says, shaking her head. You’ve heard of them before. 

You sit there watching her type on the laptop and then your vision is pulled outside. It’s dark outside and you watch as the floodlights are coming on across the field you can see out the window. All of a sudden it feels like something has changed. A bell rings out and it makes you jump. 

Kate turns around in her chair looking out on the field as you see soldiers start running around. She looks back slamming the laptop closed. All of a sudden she’s out of her seat. Now you’re definitely nervous.

“Come,” she says, her voice level as she goes into John’s office. You nod, wrapping the blanket around yourself. She grabs a backpack and puts the laptop in, throwing it over her shoulder. She leaves the room without closing the door. 

“What’s going on?” you ask as she walks fast down the corridor, almost dragging you along as you head to the fire exit at the end. 

“We need to get out of here. Quick, put some shoes on. And do you have a coat?” she asks as you go into your room. You nod following her instructions, pulling some trainers on and a jacket. Almost as soon as you’ve zipped it up she’s gripping your arm again pulling you out the room.

“Wait,” you say, stopping her. You look around your room. You have a feeling you’re not going to be coming back here. You go over to your nest picking up Dr. Piper's scarf. It still smells of her. You wrap it round your neck, tucking it into your jacket. 

You go up to Kate. You're ready now. She nods at you, leading you out the fire door. You’re hugging the building as you follow her, trying to match her movements. Your heart is thumping in your chest. You don’t know why you’re being sneaky. You just follow her, keeping quiet. 

Before you know it, you’re at the exit you and John take to get to the forest. Kate pulls you up against the base’s wall. You’re hidden in the shadows. You listen to the trees swaying as the wind picks up. You can feel the electricity in the air, the rain moving in. 

“Stay close,” she whispers, inching forward to the corner of the wall. You’re holding your breath as she looks round the corner. You watch as her hand slides down her side pulling a pistol into her hands. You swallow the lump away as you watch her pull the barrel back. The pistol clicks and she brings it up to her chest. 

You keep quiet as you follow Kate as close as you can, your hand resting on her back. She’s peeking around the corner and before you have time to calm down, she turns, running through the exit gate. 

You follow her, holding your breath. As soon as you're through the gate you’re in full sprint forcing your body to move and keep up with Kate. You run past the path you would normally walk down with John and she keeps going.

You run with her until she turns to the right down what looks like a walking path. She slows to a walk and you let yourself suck in breaths of air, the cold making you shiver as the drizzle of rain falls on you. 

Kate doesn’t say anything, putting the pistol back at her hip as you continue to follow the path. You wonder what John is doing, what your pack is doing. You hope they’re okay. You don’t get long to worry about them as Kate takes a sharp turn off the path into the thick foliage of the forest. 

You wish you could enjoy the sounds of the woods, the smell of pine. You can smell damp, the ground after rain. It makes you miss John. You miss your alpha. 

“Where are we going?” you ask after a few more minutes of walking. 

“There’s a truck parked waiting for us. We need to get to it and meet up with John.” 

“Okay,” you say. You can hear the nerves in your own voice. You keep following her. You're not sure how long you’re walking for, trying to keep up with Kate as you stumble through the forest. Eventually you come across a truck. It’s one of the big ones with 3 seats in the front and benches in the back, covered in a tarp.  

You’ve seen them around the base. They always looked so out of place. You follow her into the front seat. It’s cold and the rain is starting to fall down hard now. You bring Dr. Piper’s scarf up to your nose. It smells of her, and you smile, breathing it in as Kate drives off down the dirt road.

“Ghost we need a way out,” Price asks over the radio leading Gaz out while Dr. Montgomery leans heavily on him. 

“Main entrance is a no go. Go back the way you came, through the side door,” Ghost says. Price shakes his head. They need to move fast. He’s frustrated. He can’t think with this stupid alarm almost deafening him.

“Soap, any luck finding the kill switch?” Gaz calls as loud as he can over the radio.

“Working on it!” he calls back, barely audible even though Price can tell he’s shouting. They make it up to the ground floor and the ringing just seems worse, the large empty rooms echoing, the sound bouncing off the walls. 

It doesn’t matter. They’ll be out soon. The building is like a maze, and Price has to really focus to remember the way out. He looks over at Dr. Montgomery. She looks worse. She’s going to need medical attention when they have time. 

Suddenly the ringing stops. There’s collective sighs of relief. Price’s ears are still ringing though. 

“This way,” Price says, leading them to a door with light coming through. It leads down a corridor. Now they’re heading to the west side of the building, which is good since that’s the way they came from. Price has to keep checking behind him to make sure Gaz is keeping up. 

He peeks into a room and sees Soap leaned over a table with a computer on it. There are monitors all over the wall and equipment everywhere. By his feet is a body with a knife sticking out of his neck. The whole room is covered in equipment. This must have been the main command room. 

“C’mon Soap lets go!” Price calls over to him.

“Wait Cap, you need to see this,” he says pointing at one of the monitors on the wall. Price sighs against his better judgment and walks in to see the screen Soap is looking at. 

It’s the Professor, his hands spread over a desk. He’s somewhere in the house, in an office watching from afar. Now Price needs to go find him. Shadow company are at the door. He needs to get Dr. Montgomery out first as he sees her walk into the room. 

“Hold on, let me,” she says, moving away from Gaz and over to the computer. Soap moves out of the way and she types something then presses a button on the console. The cameras move and everyone sees the door to Hale’s office lock. He can see him fighting with it as shutters on the windows slam down. 

She chuckles. She’s not done though as she continues to click through the computer until she finds something. 

‘Lockdown initiated,’ a robotic voice comes through.

“ Yes,” she says under her breath as a warning comes up on the screen. She clicks ‘accept’ and a big red button with a plastic cover on the console pops open. 

“I’m staying. There’s a kill switch here, and it’ll blow the place.” She steps back from the computer so they can see. Price isn’t quite sure what he’s looking at. Gaz and Soap step in to take a better look. 

“You can’t put it on a timer?” Gaz asks as he looks at the computer monitor. She shakes her head.

“That would defeat the purpose. It’s a suicide switch, a last resort. If anyone ever suspected the Professor, he would rather take everything down with him. He imagined himself going out in a blaze of glory, fighting till the bitter end. Covering up his transgressions as his world burnt around him. His last fuck you to the authorities.” She seems almost happy about it. Her energy seems to have picked up as she clicks through security cameras. 

“The investors are here,” she says as they watch the outside CCTV. They’re making their way to the front door. They don’t have long. They need to leave now. 

“It’s not your job to fix this!” Price says taking a step towards her. She backs up, almost bumping into Soap.

“I helped put the omega in the position she’s in now. It is my job to fix this,” she says, frowning almost like she’s annoyed. 

“It doesn’t matter, come on!” John snaps, grabbing her arm. It’s his job to fix this, not hers. She digs her heels into the floor holding her ground. 

“We could destroy it all, John. Professor Hale will be dead, and the chemical destroyed. The investors are here because he wanted to make this place his new lab. Everything is here, everything but the omega.” She looks him in the eyes as he thinks about it. 

He lets her arm go. Hale buried, the chemical destroyed. There would be no one left. They could end it right now. He can see the determination in her eyes. 

She knew this was a suicide mission. Now it still can be. 

“What, no! We’re getting you out of here,” Gaz says pushing in front of Price. She can see Price has already made up his mind. She smiles puling her arm away so Gaz can't grab her. 

“You would die too,” he says as a matter of fact. She nods as a beeping starts on the console and she swears under her breath, turning to the computer.

"Hale's trying to override the lockdown, he could trap you all in here. You need to go John." She says her voice filled with urgency, she quickly looks over at him before turning her attention to the cameras. Price can see the professor by his computer, the shadows are running up the steps to the front door.

“Is there anything you can do Soap, put this on a timer or something?” Gaz asks.

“With a homemade system like this it could take me hours. It’s impressive, built into the foundation of the structure itself,” he shrugs.

"I can keep Hale locked in his office. I can even cut off Shadow Company so you can get out." She explains turning back to look at Price. 

“Price, hostiles heading into the building. What’s your ETA?” Ghost says over the radio. Price can see they've breached the door. They need to leave now. 

“Your hands will be clean. You can take the omega and go on that holiday. You didn’t kill anyone, this will cover your tracks,” she pleads standing up and turning to look at him. The beeping stops.

“We’re leaving now,” Price says over the radio. 

“Cap, you’re not seriously considering this?” Gaz asks. Price can see the pleading in his eyes and hear it in his voice. Will you ever forgive him?

“What about the omega?” Price asks. 

She pauses and smiles.

“She’s your omega, you’re her pack. She doesn’t need me anymore.” She fights to keep the tears back. She’ll cry for you when they’re gone. Price's hand rests on her shoulder. 

“You’re a good person,” he says. She smiles at him looking down as he passes her a radio. “We’ll let you know when we’re clear.” 

She nods, taking it out of his hand. 

“Let’s go,” Price says, turning away and heading for the door. Soap lays his hand on her shoulder and squeezes. 

“I’ll make sure she never forgets you,” he says, coming into her view and smiling as he drops his hand. She smiles back at him. Gaz lingers for a few seconds watching her face as Soap jogs past him. He nods, his lips pressed together before he leaves the room too. 

Price leads them down the maze of rooms and hallways towards the exit of the house. Price tries not to think about you as he reconciles with the fact he's letting both of the people you consider anything close to parents die. 

The Professor was going to die anyway. Dr. Montgomery is a martyr, but it’s the right thing to do. Destroy it all, and then no one else can be harmed. No more chemical, no more Professor, no more unnecessary deaths. The investors will watch the building fall to pieces; they won’t want to invest in rubble. 

He can almost feel Gaz’s eyes burning into him as he justifies it in his head. They make it out the side door and back over the wall. 

When they make it over they follow the wall round to the front of the property. The blacked out SUV’s are parked at the end of the drive inside the gate. Price can see the investors waiting around as the Shadows have made it into the building. They’re going to be dead too. 

They follow the dark graveled road till they make it to the outhouse Ghost is set up in. He comes out when he sees them. They all turn to look down at the house a few hundred meters away. 

“Where is she?” Ghost asks. 

Price brings his hand up to activate his radio.

“We’re clear,” he says.

“John, promise me you’ll keep her safe.” Her voice comes through his ear piece. 

“I promise,” he replies. He feels guilt rise in him now, and he can feel everyone's eyes digging into him as Ghost figures out what’s going on.

“Simon. It’s okay you never forgave me. I never forgave myself.” Soap looks over at Ghost, watching as a breath leaves his throat. Price can smell the sadness in the air. 

“Price, what's going on?” Ghost asks. 

Price doesn’t say anything, the line goes silent. There’s heavy tension in the air, a distant rumbling and then explosions. The ground seems to shift as the explosions get louder. The building starts to crumble. The investors scream, running back towards the cars with whatever Shadows are still outside. 

“No, Price!” Ghost calls his voice catches in his throat. 

“Piper what the hell?” Ghost shouts over the radio.

“You’re a good man Si—” The transmission is cut off. The explosions are bigger now, he can see sections of the building blown off and then the building collapsing in on itself. Price can feel the eyes on him, the tension in the air. He doesn’t want to turn around. He doesn't want to face what he’s done. 

It’s for the greater good , he reminds himself as he turns to look at them. Ghost’s eyes are wide, Soap’s hand resting on his shoulder from behind. Gaz is looking down at the ground. 

“She’ll never forgive you,” Ghost says, his voice low as he composes himself, shrugging Soap’s hand off. Price nods. He knows what he’s done. Ghost shakes his head and turns to walk away. Everyone follows in silence. 

It’s for the greater good, he reminds himself, taking one last look at the ruined building as fires start. 

You’re waiting in the back of the truck with Kate. It’s cold even with the blanket you found. You know you’re never going to be going back there but even Kate has been vague with you. You were driving for what felt like hours before you ended up off a large road to a secluded spot in the forest. 

Now you just had to wait. Eventually a phone rings. You have almost dozed off when it jerks you awake. Kate answers it but doesn’t say much, just Yes, of course, see you soon. You’re playing with Dr. Piper’s scarf in your hand. You want to give it back to her when you see her. 

“They’re on their way,” she says, smiling at you. 

“Is Dr. Piper with them?” you ask. 

“I don’t know, I assume so.” 

You smile at her, that's good. Of course they rescued her. You never doubted them. You’re giddy, your body warming up as you think about Dr. Piper coming back. You even shrug the blanket off after a while. 

You hear them before you see them, the headlights of the car shining through the trees. You’re excited, smiling as the car pulls up, stopping. You hop out of the back of the truck following Kate as she walks over. They turn the car off and the lights go dark as people start to get out.  

John gets out first, then Simon, then Johnny. Your heart beats quicker, and your smile fades. 

You can’t smell her. 

She’s not with them. You swallow hard backing up next to Kate. You can smell sadness, guilt, anger. John walks over to you and stops in front of you. He hesitates. That makes the tears come again. There’s a chill in the air. Hidden under the canopy of trees it sounds like the rain is falling harder.

“We got to Professor Hale’s house. We found her,” he pauses. It’s almost like he doesn’t want to say it.

“And she was dead?” you ask, swallowing the sob building up in your throat. She was dead before they got there. There was nothing they could have done. That's what he’s about to tell you.

It’s worse, so much worse. He shakes his head. 

“While we were leaving she came across a room. A room she said could destroy Hale’s building, burying him inside,” he says. You nod frantically at him.

“The kill switch, she used to call it—” the words die in your throat as you realize what he’s getting at. The suicide room, she used to call it the suicide room. 

“No,” you sob. He takes a step closer to you, but you step back. 

“You stopped her right? You didn’t leave her to die?” Your eyes fill with tears. You take another step back looking around at everyone. Johnny and Kyle look sad, their eyes wide as the horror of what happened sinks in. 

“I’m so sorry,” John says, stepping forward. You shake your head, your hand coming to your mouth. 

“You could have saved her! You could have said no!” you snap at him, way louder than you expected. It even seems to shock him as you rub tears out your eyes. 

“I’m—” 

“No! You promised, you promised you would save her!” you shout at him. He starts to move towards you, but you hold your hands out, your anger strong in the air. He stops. 

You look at him. You can’t tell if he looks sad or not. You can’t tell how he feels. You can smell his alpha and it makes you feel sick. Your hand goes to the back of your neck where you can feel his mark. 

He let her die. He could have saved her and he let her die. You can’t look at him anymore. You turn to the woods letting your hand fall from your neck. 

You look out into the blackness of the forest. You can hear the wind and the rain, the air is cold. 

She’s dead. Dr. Piper is dead and it’s all John’s fault. You let the next sob die in your throat and sprint off into the dark.  

Dividers by Plum98 & gild-ui Beta reader and editor - rememberwren Sorry...

[daisydamed]

Drink Up

a tiny Jax Teller imagine that I couldn't get out of my head.

(forgive the bad writing honestly idk what's happened to me)

word count - 625

---

She and Jax had sought each other out at the past few clubhouse parties. Music playing and smoke hanging in the air, one would spot the other and force their paths to cross; spending the remainder of the night exchanging stolen touches and lingering gazes over whatever drinks they held. This night was no different, with her eyes scanning quickly over the room of bodies, casually searching him out, even if she didn’t mean to. 

Several drinks in and she was caught in conversation with Juice, nodding along and laughing when she should, adding her own bits and pieces despite her thinly veiled distraction. He knew, of course. Saw how the pair looked at each other, stole each other away once they were reacquainted. His eyes had flickered behind her for only a second, not giving her the chance to turn and look before something cold was pressed briefly to the warm skin of her neck. She jerked away with a small yelp, wiping at the condensation left behind from the beer bottle. 

“Jackson Teller-” She whirled on him, hearing the chuckle from his lips before she’d barely registered the chill. 

He grinned, head cocked to meet her eyes. “Say my name like that again and I'll have to kick your ass.” He told her, a teasing lilt to his tone. She rolled her eyes, her voice dry.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll bear that in mind.” She replied easily, hands raised in almost mischievous surrender. Neither even noticed that Juice had vanished, slipping away into the crowd once he realised he’d lost her focus. 

“Now there’s your manners.” He quipped, stepping a little closer to let someone pass behind him. 

“I said a very nice thank you the other week.” She reminded him, trying unsuccessfully to bite back her smile. 

“I remember,” Jax thought back, recalling the ride home he’d given her the morning after the last gathering when she’d crashed on a couch instead of paying for a cab ride home. “Though I gotta admit I’m wanting to hear more nice words from you now.” 

“I guess you’ll have to earn them.” She shot back casually, watching as he finished off his beer, leaning away momentarily to place the empty bottle on the bar. He smirked at her words, shaking his head minutely. 

“Oh, is that how it is?” He asked, retaking his place with mere inches between them. The loud voices of the many bodies coupled with the music playing over the speaker made it difficult to hear. His excuse for their proximity. “And how would I go about doing that, exactly?” 

She gave a shrug, taking a sip of the drink in her hand. “I haven’t decided yet.” 

His eyes followed the motion, watching as the glass met her lips. He reached out as it lowered, taking it from her fingers deftly. “Take your time,” He told her, raising the glass to take a sip of his own. “We’ve got all night for you to decide.” 

“Thievery might not be the best way to start.” She mused, reaching for the glass. He twisted where he stood, holding it just out of reach, enjoyment in his eyes. 

The glass hung between his fingers, his eyes fixed on hers. “I never said I played fair.” He told her casually. She narrowed her eyes, gaze flitting between the glass and his face. “You want it back?”

She held his gaze. “You can keep hold of it,” she told him. “But I’d like some.” 

“All you had to do was ask.” Jax replied, voice smooth. He stepped in, his hand coming to rest on her lower back, holding her steady. She lifted her chin, lips parting as he raised the glass and tilted it gently. 

[narcissarina]

Darkened Desires

Pairings: Mafia!Scaramouche × Barista!Reader

Word count: 1,088

Tw: praise kink, degradation, kidnapping, tourture, dub/non-con, forced breeding, dismembering, gore, deaths, age-gap, corruption, use of force, trauma, use of drugs, stalking, mentions of human trafficking on the near chapters, slowburn.

Warning: This fanfiction may contain kidnapping, torture, dub/non-con, forced breeding, dismembering, age-gap, corruption, vigilante Scaramouche, use of force, trauma, use of drugs, stalking, and more. This fiction will continue grow darker as chapters goes by.

Your mental health matters.

PROLOGUE

“It shouldn’t have come to this.” This wouldn’t have happened, if she could just listen to me! I would not have done that, she was suppose to be mine, mine alone. How dare he laid his hands on her. I should’ve just chained her, isolate her, keep her all by myself. If only she kept her curiosity to herself.

Very well then, curiosity does kill the cat. I’ll be having my own fun to chase and to hunt her down, until she admits that every part of her is mine.

CHAPTER 1:

THE SUN

Nothing makes my morning much more delightful than working in a Café that me and my friend own, a smile spread across my face as I greet a customer with delight, “Hello, welcome to Tulipa Purissima. What can I get you today?” I saw a smile from the little girls face as she waved at me and pointed right to the menu of our café.

“Mommy, mommy!” the girl yelled with a high pitched but adoring voice, “I want a strawberry cake!” the girl added, on the other hand—the mother, was busy speaking to her phone while holding the little girls hand. This very much reminded me of how me and my mother were. I let out a soft laugh as the girl was too eager to have her strawberry cake, pulling her mothers sleeve and arm, whining and pushing her. The older woman didn’t flinched nor yelled at the girl, she just pat her head and hold the call, pinching her daughters cheek.

This is so adorable to watch.

After a few exchanged mutters from the mother and daughter, they placed their order and find their seats. Those two really did remind me of my mother and me, how she’ll always take the call either a call from relatives or from her workplace, then we’ll go to a café and I sulk at her from taking too long.

I laughed and passed the order from my friend, who will make and serve the orders. This is how me and my friend, Estrella do and pick our parts, we also switch roles from time to time.

As I serve customers, call out their name to pick up their order, something caught my attention—someone. Group of men dresses in fancy black tuxedo inside the café, they haven’t get anything yet. I assume they were only bystanders, I sigh and look for my friend to make sure, “Estrella?” I called, she hums in response and finishing the last order and gave the receipt to the customer.

“Those men..” I point towards the right side of the back of the café, trying my best not to seem rude to point to customers and not wanting to be find out that I’m talking about them, “they haven’t ordered anything yet, right?” I asked, worry hinted in my voice. Since I feel a bit of intimidation towards of group of men, worse part is that they even dressed up in black expensive tuxedo’s.

My friend took a quick glance and stared at me in the eye, shaking her head and wiping her hands with tissues, “No,” she hums, “I haven’t seen a single one of them come to front and claim their order.” She added, Estrella has a knack for remembering faces of customers for the day and know who’s had ordered and who didn’t, “and they don’t seem like a regular here either.”

I sigh and got out from the counter, “I’ll deal with them, we can’t have bystanders here.” I murmur to myself and to Estrella to hear, she gave a thumbs-up as if it’ll motivate me and have such courage to speak with those dangerous looking men.

There were three to seven people in this table, two on either side of the bench seat and a man in the middle—sweating and fidgeting, as if he’s being threatened by these men. I approach their table, my hands clasp together and I cleared my throat to bring their attention to me, “Hello, gentlemen.” I utter, trying to steady my voice and not stutter or eat my words up. I continue, “I—uh noticed that you guys haven’t order anything here yet and that an atmosphere you bring inside Tulipa Purissima is unsettling, if you all don’t mind, I kindly ask you all to leave.”

A man with dark purple hair and in a short hime cut with lavender highlights, I assume he’s a little older than me but with a baby face like that and how he stood out from the rest of the men, I think I know who’s in charge of the group. He spoke, his tone flat and uninterested, “so we just need to order and you’ll leave us alone?” he asked, his eyes darkening and piercing the more he look at me dead in the eye.

I think I want to curl up into a ball and cry to my mommy.

My lips sealed shut, his voice raspy and husky. I don’t move an inch and I peel my eyes away from his deadly gaze, “uh. I- I mean.” I started stammering, I could feel my heart beating and racing, my legs wanting to give out and run to my friend Estrella.

Help, I’m scared.

He waves his hand lazily, his palm resting his chin and elbow on the table. “Whatever, get me some dark coffee.” He said, tone still flat and uninterested. He turn to his colleagues—or that I assume that were his colleagues, it feels like more a security than old friends…

“You all order some, my treat.” He murmured but it was loud enough to be heard by the others, I took out my handy-dandy notebook and write down all their orders. I’m so glad that I keep this thing all the time with me.

After placing and telling me their order, I noticed the man looking at me. The one in the middle, his eyes big and wide, his hands trembling and fidgeting—as if he’s telling me to help him.

“I don’t want to intrude but,” I said and lean over the table and look at the man, but I don’t lean in too close. “I’m sorry sir but are these gentle folks seems to bother you nor are they intimidating you?” I asked, my tone strong and full of concern.

I could feel a burning sensation at the back of my neck, and I know who’s eyes they were…

Link:

Chapter 2: THE MOON