#It's fine It's fine I'm just impatient as all hell and having three fulls out isn't helping.

[astramachina]

being in a server for latine authors is so funny because despite all our differences at the end of the day we all share the same hobby: bochinchando en el (metafórico) (cibernetico) balcón con un café en la mano.

[woniefication]

Lost and Found Love P.Sunghoon

Warnings: Car accident,mentions of bruises,hospital setting

930 ish words/Park Sunghoon x fem reader/Non Idol AU/Angst+fluff+might be spelling errors!

You never thought it would come to this.

Right now you were in the car with your husband,well soon to be ex-husband Sunghoon,driving to court to finalize your divorce papers. Your relationship was slowly but surely starting to fail; neither of you felt happy anymore. Sunghoon was going well over the speed limit,but that was the least of your worries.

You looked out of the passenger seat window, suddenly you felt your eyes get blurry. Oh great. Tears. Sunghoon looked over at you rolling his eyes.

"oh cmon, drop the act Y/N, Youll be fine you wont even notice I'm gone. You noticed his hands tightening on the steering wheel.

"How could you say that Sunghoon! You wasted my time! How am I supposed to recover from this?!" You retorded wondering how he could be so insensitive.

"Dont make me start screaming again lets just spend these last moments together in peace." Sunghoon sighed heavily his eyebrows furrowing.

As you got closer to the courthouse you noticed Sunghoon growing more impatient his foot pressing hard on the gas pedal.

At the last turn a vehicle came crashing into you guys at full force, the last thing you saw was the airbag.

——————————————————————————

Slowly blinking you took in your surroundings, a hospital room, you survived after all. Why were you here in the first place?

Next to you was a man in a hospital bed that looked just as confused his sharp features noticable despite the blood and bruises on his face. He looked tired you felt bad, did his family not visit him often? Your curiosity won over so you decided to spike up a conversation.

"Hey, how are you, what happened?" You asked in a quiet tone not wanting to startle him.

He looked up at you, fidgeting with his fingers,he looked so innocent. " Oh hi, to be honest... I have no idea but im glad that I survived whatever this is..." He responded while pointing to his bruised arms and legs. "What about you, you look equally as bad." He said in a joking tone his voice carrying a hint of curiosity.

"I'm equally as confused, no idea how I got here either! I barely remember anything about myself." You laughed though you felt your world crumbling.

You saw his eyes light up as if he just won the lottery. "Me neither! Do you think we were involved in the same accident? Maybe my car crashed into yours or we were in the same train accident. I'm Sunghoon by the way! What's your name?"

Just as you were about to answer a young woman came in who looked like a Nurse.

She spoke up her voice soothing your headache that you managed to ignore up until now "So Mr and Mrs Park how are you both feeling?"

The expression on your face as you heard that was indescribable. Was she reffering to you? What was your last name again and why did the guy have the same name? The shock on Sunghoons face was as confused as yours. What is going on?

"W-what..?" Sunghoon choked out finally breaking the silence, the tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife.

"Oh...uh-oh! I'll be right back!" The nurse said as realization hit her. The nurse quickly left the room.

You both were left to wonder what she meant. Soon after an older man entered the room looking way more professional.

He sat down on a chair infront of the bed of both of you, sitting opposite both of you.

"Mr and Mrs Park I have some good and bad news listen carefully." He took a deep breath closing his eyes before continuing. "The bad news is, that your both suffering from memory loss. "The good news is that its temporary lasting three to six days or even less."

You thought you were dreaming, What the hell is even happening?! You had billions of questions.

"This might be shocking news to the both of you, but you both are actually married to eachother. The more time goes on the more you'll regain your memory its best if the both of you just rest. If theres any further questions feel free to ask the nurse."

With that the doctor left the room completely unbothered,like this was an everyday occurence.

Just then you noticed the sparkling ring on your ring finger, the doctor wasn't kidding after all.

The man next to you wasn't some guy that just looked familiar, he was the man you have been spending who knows how many nights with.

"We really are married...It's all making sense... who knows where we were going? Maybe on a date?" You chuckled.

Sunghoon let out a loud laugh, you noticed how attractive he was. "Maybe, or maybe we were driving home?" I wonder how our house or apartment looks like."

You chuckled feeling a bit happy that you guys were connecting, you understood why you had married this guy, he was exactly your type. With that you both decided to rest.

Over the next few days you started regaining more and more of your memory remembering almost everything except of the crash. No matter how hard you tried you just couldn't remember.

When you both felt healthy enough to go home, you got discharged from the hospital and went home living the happy married live with the love of your life.

The truth was Sunghoon had never lost his memory this was all part of his plan the crash,the memory loss everything. But you didn't know and he'd make sure it will stay that way.

[dsireland86]

Hello ☺️ Hope your doing well.

Could I please request a Matt Dierkes one shot if possible him being a grumpy ass except to his wife?? Fluffy and cute 🙏

Oh you are my first Matt Dierkes one-shot! Yes! Thank you for the inspiration :)

Feeling on the Edge

TAGS: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986

Matt drummed his fingers on his lap anxiously. I could tell he was in a bad mood, dying to get out of the video call meeting with the management team. His face said he was irritated and completely over the whole record label bull crap. He just wanted to be done.

Seeing how fidgety he was, I nudged his leg beneath the table with my foot hoping the friction was enough to tame his temper. He looked over at me and his dark eyes, full aggression, immediately softening.

I grinned at him to let him know I was still in his corner. He grinned back, took a deep breath, and refocused his attention on the computer screen, but not before reaching over and placing his hand on the inside of my thigh.

The rest of the day was hell for everyone, because Matt insisted on setting the world around him on fire. Every little thing that someone did annoyed him. Every word that was said, Matt had some sarcastic, snippy remark to follow it.

In the process of just three hours, he managed to break a computer monitor because he was too impatient, cut the wrong wire while attempting to splice a cable that Noah said was dead, spill Nicholas's coffee all down the front of him because he turned around too fast out of anger, dropped a mix board, misplaced his phone not once, not twice, but three times, and to top it all off, he had run out of Dr. Pepper.

"Dude, you need to calm the hell down! You starting to stress me out," Folio criticized him.

"Yeah, no joke. And if Folio is stressed then the rest of us are at the point of giving you a beatdown."

Matt glared at Noah who crossed his arms while leaning against the table. Matt didn't speak, but the look he was giving Noah screamed a big "fuck you".

"Well, it's not my fault. Those stupid pieces of shit at the record label treat me like I'm and idiot sometimes. I'm not a fucking idiot! I know how to do my job!"

"Nobody is say you are, baby," I pointed out.

"Matt calm down, man. You know not to listen to those people."

Nicholas came walking into the conversation after switching to a pair of clean clothes.

"Oh my god! What the hell are you wearing?"

Matt's expression was of utter disgust, looking at Nick. All of us turned and stared, a few bursting into fits of laughter. Nick didn't match at all. Sporting a neon pink shit that was a little too snug and a pair of snake skin looking pants that were way too stretchy for him to be wearing, he looked ridiculous.

"What?" Nick shrugged with his hands up. "It's all I could find. If someone hadn't been so angry and turned around so fast," scowling over at Matt, "I wouldn't be in this mess."

"Oh so it's my fault you look like a clown?" Matt snapped.

"Yeah, I kinda is," Nick shot back. "And your piss poor attitude!"

"What! I don't have a piss poor attitude! I've just had a fucked up day and all of you have added to it!"

"What! I didn't do anything!" I exclaimed defensively.

Matt's eyes quickly shifted over to me. "No, no, not you baby. You're fine. You haven't done anything wrong," he reassured me, smiling.

"Oh for god's sake, come on man! Your wife isn't that perfect," Folio groaned.

"Hey!"

"Mmm, I don't know, Folio, she's pretty perfect. I mean, you've had her cooking, and we all know that's she's done your laundry a few times, even finding the matches to your lost socks."

Folio looked at me, smiling apologetically.

"Yeah I guess so. Sorry, Y/N," he said leaning over and laying a sweet soft kiss on my cheek.

"Okay, well if you all are done flirting with my wife, I'd like to have her back now, please. Go get your own women! She belongs to me."

"Matt! That was so mean!"

"What! It's true! They're always trying to steal you from me."

I laughed so hard.

"Holy shit, Matt, you can't be serious!"

"Especially you," he chided Noah. "You're always trying to get in her pants."

"Alright, Matthew. That's it! Come with me; now!"

"It's Matt," he corrected me as I pulled him away from the group.

"What is going on with you? Where did that come from? Noah? Really, Matt!"

Squeezing his eyes shut, Matt pinched the bridge of his nose, walking sluggishly over to me. I snaked my arms around his waist, shaking my head at the Lord of the Rings Shirt he was wearing.

"I just washed that shirt and hung it up last night," I scolded him.

Turning his hat backwards, he lowered his forehead to mine, taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry. I'm snapping again, aren't I?"

I smiled, placing my hands on the sides of his face.

"Yes, baby, you are," slowly sliding my hands up under his shirt. I played with the front of the waistband of his joggers, feeling his tummy sink in from being so ticklish. He chuckled, jerking his body away from me, but I gathered his shirt in my hands and pulled him back into me. That's when his lips found mine, colliding ever so gently. They were wet and warm, and tasted like the recent Celsius he'd just had.

"I'm sorry," he breathed.

"For which part?"

He scowled at me, confused.

"For being grumpy or the shirt?"

Matt laughed, giving me a quick kiss.

"Both."

"You owe those guys over there more of an apology. You've been horrible to them today. Are you listening to me?"

"Yup, I am," he assured me. But the way he scooped me up into his arms, leaning over me and attaching his lips to my neck, I knew he wasn't.

"Matthew, stop!" I squealed, trying to get out of his clutches. "Let me go!"

"It's Matt, and no," he groaned, letting his head fall to my chest as I continued to wiggle out of his embrace. "I'm not letting you go. Ever."

The more I wiggled, the more he tightened his grip and my leg got caught up in his, tripping me, and causing me to fall. I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing for the hard impact, only to meet a soft body beneath me and a slight bump to the floor. I looked down and saw Matt beneath me.

"Shit, baby!"

"I'm fine. Don't worry. I'm good." He stared up at me, smiling.

"What? Are you sure?"

"Positive," he assures me, reaching up and pulling me into his lips. He kissed me slow, taking his time to let me feel every move he made.

"Mmm, that... I like that."

He grinned. "I like, you. A lot."

"Oh really? I hadn't noticed," I joked, leaning in and kissing him again, feeling him smile against my lips.

Matt sat up and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his lap. I rested my arms on his shoulders, staring into his eyes.

"You're really pretty, you know that?"

"Oh, so you can give compliments. Shocking!"

"Shut-up! God," he shook his head laughing. "Your sarcasm's going to kill me one day. And what the hell, I'm trying to be nice here!"

Matt tickled my sides, making me laugh hysterically.

"I love you," he said, kissing my forehead.

Wrapping myself up in his arms, I snuggle into Matt, burying my face in his chest. His heart was beating fast, telling me he was happy; that I made him happy.

"I love you, too, Matthew," I replied, grinning.

"It's Matt."

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

A Cat in the Kitchen

Part 1 (ft. Riddle and Silver) I Part 2 (ft. Trey and Kalim) I Part 3 (ft. Jade and Lilia) I Part 4 (ft. Deuce and Jamil) I Part 5 (ft. Malleus and Ruggie) | Part 6 (ft. Cater and Rook) | Part 7 (ft. Sebek and Floyd) | Part 8 (ft. Ace and Idia) | Part 9 (ft. Leona and Epel) | Part 10 (ft. Jack and Vil)

In which Gordon Ramsay-kun is isekai’d into Twisted Wonderland. Part Food Wars, part Hell’s Kitchen, all Master Chef—Night Raven College isn’t ready to take on this Michelin Star celebrity!!

Ready for a short supplementary cooking class?🌟 A day in the life of Prefect Gordon and his familiar Grim, told in three parts: breakfast, lunch, and dinner. After all, food is tastier when it's shared with friends and family~

Imagine this…

Gordon Ramsay stirred before the rats and the ghosts of Ramshackle dorm did. He was up by 5 am most days, first exercising and then rustling around in the kitchen fighting the gas stove to light (and stay that way!) and taking inventory of the dwindling ingredients in the pantry. At 7 am, the delicious smells would start up, rousing his housemates from their slumber.

This was the magic of a human incapable of spellcasting or sorcery.

"Mm... You're up super early again," Grim muttered from the doorway as he rubbed at his eyes. He yawned, still struggling to shake off the last remnants of sleep that clung to him. "I dunno how you do it."

"Not so hard once you've got the hang of it," he grunted in response. Gordon wiped his hands off on a dish towel before sliding a plate toward Grim. "Eat up now, we don't have much time before classes start."

"I dunno, I'm not too hungry."

"You? Not hungry?" Gordon's brows raised. "That's new. You feeling under the weather?"

Grim leapt, looking as though he had been caught with his entire body stuffed into a cookie jar. "N-No, I'm not! Yup, there's my hunger comin' back to me!"

He hurriedly yoinked a tuna sandwich and chowed down.

"See?! Ah'm jus' fine," Grim insisted, cheeks stuffed.

"Hmm, alright." Gordon tucked into a small bowl of oatmeal--prepared with baked bananas, almond milk, and dried cranberries.

"You got class today too or what?"

"Yup. Ashengrotto and the smaller Shroud this time."

“Think they’ll drive ya mad like the rest of them did?”

“I’ll hold my tongue until I’ve seen how they are in the kitchen for myself.”

“Keh, you’re no fun.”

The beast’s ears flattened. The blue fire that burned so brightly seemed to dim. Something weighed on his mind—of that, Gordon was certain.

“That means you'll abandon me before lunchtime again..." Between chews, Grim complained, "How come I gotta be just a student and you get to be a teacher too? The great Grim-sama oughta be showin' these newbies a thing or two!"

"I only teach what I know. I'm still a student in some ways, learning new things about food every day." Gordon shrugged, giving his friend a rough ruffle on the head. "You can be a teacher when you've mastered everything there is to master--neither of us is quite there yet."

"Why can't it be? I wanna fast forward to the part where I become an archmage already!!"

"Don't be impatient about making progress. I’ve made hundreds of dumplings in a day and still came nowhere near the level of perfection of a dim sum master.“

“Tsk, that sucks. Didja at least get to eat the bad dumplings?”

“It was all I had that day. They weren’t fit to serve to customers.” Gordon shook his head. “My point is, you’ll get there one day. Nose to the grindstone, Grim. You've got to work hard to earn it."

He spooned up the remainder of his oatmeal, then deposited his dirty bowl and spoon in the sink. Gordon plucked up Grim, who still had a mouth full of tuna, and tucked him under one arm.

“M-Myah?!“

“Right then, let’s head out. Brisk morning jog to wake up the senses—it’s a brand new day!”

“Lemme finish my breakfast first, sheesh!!”

Three classes before lunch, and they all went about as well as Gordon had expected them to. (That was to say, not well at all.)

During first period Alchemy, Grim had earned the ire of Crewel by disregarding the potion recipe. In spite of Gordon's reminders and warnings, Grim had taken one too many missteps. The wrong ingredient, the incorrect amount, the temperature too low or too high, the stirring too much or not enough.

He was then caught catnapping during Magic History and extensively told off by both Trein and Lucius. (The meowing had gotten very intense.) Gordon had apologized profusely in Grim's place.

Flying had not fared any better--Grim struggled to concentrate, his unsteady magic causing his broom to wildly buck, attempting to chuck him off. Gordon had to stop his rep of 100 push-ups to fetch his friend out from a shrub. Twigs poked at him, leaves caught in his fur.

By the time they were dismissed back to the locker rooms, Grim had melted into a furry puddle on Gordon's shoulder. "Maaan, I'm beat!! That was rough!"

"Rougher than usual." Gordon crunched on an apple. He had taken to the habit of eating small platters or snacks throughout the day over whole meals—it was more efficient for his lifestyle. “Something you want to tell me, or…?”

“N-Nothing’s up!” Grim snapped. "Quit worryin' about me. It's the boss's job to do that for their minion."

The chef rolled his eyes as he set Grim down on the floor beside him. He handed off a boxed lunch wrapped in a checkered cloth. "I'm off to teach. You'll be fine on your own, right? Find Trappola and Spade, settle down with your food, and don't cause trouble."

"I got it already!" Grim huffed. "Catch ya after...?"

"Always." His smile was strained, a bit tired but true. "Maybe I'll bring back some disastrous stories to share with you over dinner."

One last pat on the head, and then he was gone. Hustling down the hall, the white of his pristine chef’s jacket vanishing behind a corner.

Grim managed the rest of the hike to the cafeteria, balancing his lunch in his paws. He squeezed past the legs of various mob students, emerging safely on the other side. They rushed to line up for trays of food.

Suckers, Grim thought, paying in cash for food. Luckily for me, I’ve got something way better than whatever they’re serving.

“Oiiii, Grim! Over here!!” someone called to him. He looked—and there they were, the duo of troublemakers, marked by a heart and a spade upon their faces.

“Ace! Deuce!”

He scampered over to the two Heartslabyul freshmen. They had already secured their lunches, as well as an open seat for him.

“Hard night? Looks like you didn't get much sleep," Deuce commented. A fluffy omelet wobbled atop a mountain of ketchup fried rice on his plate.

“He's right, you really do look awful," Ace added cheerily--blunt as ever. He had opted for a slice of some savory pie, vegetables and meat oozing out from a buttery crust.

"Sh-Shuddap! The great Grim-sama was up all night cookin' up something big!" He slammed a paw down on the table. "Just look at your sorry lunches. They can't compare to what I have!"

"Did Prefect make your meal again? You should try to not trouble him too much.”

"’S not like I tell’m to! He does it on his own!” Grim snickered to himself. "He takes all these cheap ingredients and throws'm together to make these tasty dishes."

"Well, don't keep us waiting in suspense," Ace groaned. "Show us what you have already."

“Let’s see, let’s see!”

Grim undid the fabric knot that held his lunch in a swathe. The checkered pattern peeled back and the lid, once removed, yielded a creamy, cheesy bed of tuna bake.

Gordon had taken his beloved canned tuna and fried it down into flakes. It was then combined with a special mixture of seasonings, pasta shells, melted cheeses, onions and broccoli, and topped with bread crumbs. After a generous bake in their ancient oven, the dish had come out golden brown and bubbling.

“Whoooa, smells delish!!” all three of them drooled.

“Lucky bastard,” Ace muttered. He quickly put on a cheeky grin, his spoon prepared. “Ne, ne~ Lemme try some, Grim!“

“D-Don’t be cheeky, Ace! You can’t demand to mooch off of someone else’s lunch,” Deuce scolded his peer. “… Even if it does look really good.”

“Paws off!!” Grim shielded the box with his body. “My minion made this for me and me only!”

“Tch.” Ace’s expression dropped. “You get to eat like a king for free while the rest of us have to shell out and make do with whatever’s on the school’s menu.”

“It’s not that bad,” Deuce pointed out. “It’d be nice to be able to eat for free but I’m happy with the quality of food we get for the price.”

“This comin’ from the guy who was running low on pocket money for a snack the other day?” he smirked.

“H-Hey, I need to budget, okay?!”

While the duo bickered, Grim had started to shove his face into the box (silverware was too difficult to maneuver) and wolf down his meal. Cheese sauce painted his fur, bits of broccoli and tuna dotting his jaw.

It was heaven—or as close to heaven as he could get on the earth.

He licked his lips appreciatively, mopping up what was left on his face. Not even a little could go to waste. Grim was determined.

As he went back in for another mouthful, he felt a phantom hand cascade across his head, his back. Advice from that morning filled his mind.

“You’ll get there one day. Nose to the grindstone, Grim. You've got to work hard to earn it."

He shut his eyes, making a silent vow.

I’ll definitely… definitely pay ya back for all the hard work you’ve been puttin’ in too, partner.

Gordon bid farewell to the ghost chefs on his way out of the kitchen. The day’s leftovers and unused ingredients overflowed from his arms—a perk of the teaching gig, which helped to feed him and his feline roommate. He mentally parsed through what was available, dreaming up new dishes for the days to come.

There was a nice chunk of fresh tuna (Grim would love it) in his brown paper bag. Perhaps he’d sear it with a sesame crust, then drizzle the seafood in a yuzu-lime dressing to brighten it. He’s plate it with a microgreens salad. Chives, arugula, celery, radish, and ruby sorrel to encourage Grim to eat a variety of vegetables.

He made his way out of the school building and down the long, winding path to Ramshackle dorm. The sun was still out, warming the worn Prefect.

On the front porch, he rustled around in his pants for the keys. When he finally fished it out and inserted the teeth into the lock, Gordon swore he heard a series of suppressed giggles from beyond the door.

Odd.

The door swung open, and he was immediately accosted.

"Welcome baaack," the Ramshackle Ghosts chirped. One ushered him in from behind, another too his groceries off of his hands, and a third tugged him along by the arm.

"Come this way! Grimmy's got a treat for ya!"

"He's been working hard on it the second he got back from his last class."

"Oooh, you're gonna LOVE it!"

"What about dinner?" Gordon protested, watching his beloved ingredients sail off.

He was thrusted into their dingy kitchen--which doubled as the dining room, thanks to the table and chairs set up in one cobwebbed corner. The same old Ramshackle he woke up to every day. Rusty knobs and hinges, chipped cupboards, electricity and running water that blinked in and out.

But there, set on a table with uneven legs and splintered wood, was something extraordinary.

It was a stout cake, iced in light blue with a layer of dripping white and several lit candles stuck into the top. Black frosting formed the vague shape of a fish, TUNA piped over it in white. A single lollipop--pale blue, and in the shape of a paw--casually rested against the cake, as if it had been tossed on top for an extra flair.

A furry mass tackled and hugged Gordon's leg.

"Grim?!"

He was suited up in his own little chef's uniform. It was deep gray, verging on black, his apron tied with a striped-purple ribbon. A tiny toque--a chef's hat-- sat between his ears, a bandage over the bridge of his nose. A smear of white icing decorated his left cheek, and he carried with him a telltale piping bag squeezed thin.

Gordon blinked. "You did this?"

"Nyahahah! Were you surprised?"

"You told me you couldn't cook to save your life."

"He can't," a ghost piped up as he deposited the groceries onto a counter. "He's worse than I was when I was alive!"

"That's why Grimmy's been getting up in the dead of night lately. Been, what? Gotta be a few weeks now."

"He's been practicing his baking and then cleaning up the traces of his crime before you get up."

"What..."

"I wanted to pay ya back, yanno! For all the cookin' and cleanin' and whatever," Grim mumbled shyly, kicking at the ground. "So I figured I'd treat ya for once! I was thinking of a sticky toffee pudding at first since that's your favorite, but... it gets so sticky, it was hard to work with!"

He patted his stomach. "I couldn't put my stuff in the trash can or else you'd notice, so I had to eat up all my mistakes too! It was a lotta effort and way harder than it looked, so you'd better be grateful!!”

Grim looked away, rubbing at his bandage.

“… It helped me better understand and appreciate all the things you do on the daily.”

It clicked.

Everything suddenly made sense. Grim's tiredness, lack of focus, decreased appetite, defensiveness—it was all for this very moment.

"... I see." Gordon bent down, a smile taking shape on his mouth. A steady kindling in his chest. “This is your way of saying ‘thank you’.”

“M-Maybe! An archmage has gotta take good care of his minion,” Grim muttered.

The prefect laughed softly. “And you’re doing a great job at it. Hang tight, I'll get the stove going and whip us up some seared tuna to go with the cake."

“Myah?! Y-You’ve got tuna? Like, the real stuff?!” Grim’s eyes were wide and sparkling. A line of drool ran down his chin. "Fancy tuna...!!"

"Yeah. We can plate some for the ghosts too--so they can join us for a meal in spirit." Gordon nodded at their other roommates. Their pale faces brightened with excitement.

"Can we really?"

"It's been so long since I was last invited to a celebration like this!!"

"Oh, but we can't eat... Ghosts don't have digestive systems. The tune would pass right through us."

"... Grim, you have eat their shares. More importantly, it's being together for the occasion that matters, right?"

"Whoo-hoo!! You're the best minion an archmage could ask for!!" Grim cheered, leaping into the air, furry fist pumping.

“Let's get this dinner party started…!”

[aloneatpeace]

Cosmic Chaos

Chapter 16

The siren blaring sound felt so amazing as they come running out of the lab. Stiles and Alison hung back; stiles hesitate even though scott said he could hear your heartbeat he is still disappointed at himself losing you on the run. What if you got hurt pretty bad, scott has been a newly turn he doesn't know what to do with his power nor he knows the basic.

"Stiles" he hears you at the speed he turns his head his neck should be broken you glance at Allison "you guys aren't hurt right?"

You walk towards them but stiles run towards you wrapping his arms around your waist tightly lifting you off the ground you wrap your arms around his shoulders feelings his tears on your skin "it's okey stiles, everything is going to be fine"

Shutting his eyes firmly he shakes his head "don't...don't do that again...I thought. I lost you" he muttered out. Finally letting your feet touch the ground he breaks the hug but keep you closer looking over any wounds. "you're not hurt, are you did you see scott?"

That's when he sees the blood "wait you're hurt" he doesn't remember when you got hurt was it when the alpha separate you from them.

You don't feel pain, you don't even remember how you got hurt.

You smile at him tenderly wiping his tears "No, silly I'm fine. Yeah, he is fine too" you add glancing at Allison.

She nods her head hugging herself you smile at her softly before moving away from stiles opening your arms, she chuckles you carefully embrace her "He's fine. You're fine and that's what's right" parting you take her hands in yours.

"Hey" scotts steps out timidly look at Allison she looks at him before she gives you final nod of appreciation before walking past scott.

"This night couldn't get worse" stiles state glancing between you and scott who looked like crawled out hell. "Also, whose clothe is that. What happened to yours?"

You huff at that while scott wince "about that stiles we have a lot to say"

he comes towards you both his puppy dog eyes full on display "I'm so sorry about that.... I don't know what happened"

"What hell happened" stiles ask

"Not now stiles the sheriff is looking for us"

Stile's frown "fine" he throws his hands over your shoulder as you all starts to walk out "by the way we said that it was derek who did this and killed the janitor"

Moments of silence pass away before the hall way echoes your sound "Oh my God stiles"

"You sure it was derek hale?" the sheriff questions the three of you, stiles pinch your side making you nod along with scott.

"I saw him too" stiles agree

"What about the janitor?" scott asked the sheriff sigh glancing away

"we're still looking"

"Did you check the office? The gym?" scott questions again

You see Mr. Stilinski impatient sigh at rapid questions of scott "yeah scott. We looked. We pulled everything out just like you asked, there's noting there"

"We are not making this up" he stresses he glance at you "tell him y/n"

Mr. Stilinski put his hands on scotts shoulder "scott, I believe you, I do"

"No, you don't. you have this look, like you feel bad for me. Like you wanna believe me but- "

Someone calls sheriff over "Listen, we're gonna search this whole school. We're going to find him. Okey? I promise" he said glancing each one of you "y/n come with me. You two stay here"

Stiles perk up "why? can I come too?"

Mr. Stilinski turn to him with a tried look on his face making stiles stay put "I'll stay right here"

Once you are both away from them Mr. Stilinski let out a loud sigh "Y/n, what is going on with you three. You three weren't like this, this is serious. Are you sure derek is behind all of this?"

Your shoulders drawn forward lowering your head down at his defeated tone "And why were .you at the hospital what happened? One of melissa colleague said you were hospitalized unconscious! I didn't tell your grandmother because I was hoping you would come clean and tell me what happened. You had me and scotts mom worried knowing those two they didn't tell anyone either."

You were not expecting this to happen you muster up courage to look at him "well first of all I don't know if its derek or anyone else but someone was attacking us all. And I know you guys didn't find the janitor but I can still hear his scream, it sounded like he was being murdered. I don't know who or how and where is his body gone but you have to trust me on this"

Mr. Stilinski nod at you "And..."

"I know saying sorry does not cut it, but I'm sorry. I don't know what happened that day, I wasn't attacked or drugged, the nurse said I was just sleeping I don't even remember what exactly happened but scott and stiles was there. Trust me nothing happened to any of us"

Mr. Stilinski give you smile patting your shoulder "Well, I'm glad nothing happened to you three. If you see anything suspicious or feel unsafe anywhere. You call me okey?"

"Alright"

Mr. Stilinski calls one officer "Drop her at her home" "I take them home. Don't worry I need something to ask them. You should get home it's already past midnight"

You nod at him not wanting further stress him out, the officer guide you too the car as you pass by you see Mr. Stilinski with Scott and Stiles. They pause their conversation when the car you pass stiles wave at you as you go weakly you returns it.

"Well, at least we survived. You know? we outlived the alpha. It's still good right being alive" stiles weakly cheer trying to comfort scott after his dad left them.

Scott skeptically looks at his friend "when we are in the chemistry room, he walked right by us you don't think it heard us? You don't think it knew exactly where we are?"

"Well, how come we're still alive?"

Scott glance around puling stiles away from the cops standing "stiles it wants me to join him. I think first I have to get rid of my old pack"

"What do you mean? What old pack?"

"Allison, Jackson, Lydia, you and y/n. the alpha didn't want to kill you guys. it wants me to do it and that not even the worst part!"

Stiles throw his hands in the air huffing "how is it not?"

"Stiles, it made me shift. I want to kill you I was on my way to kill you, Allison everyone in the room. I tried to kill y/n when she tried to stop me if it wasn't for derek I would've killed her stiles"

Stiles blinks grabbing Scotts shoulders making him look at him" wait hold on. What? you tried to kill her?!and derek saved her! why didn't tell me sooner?"

"I don't know. the fact the I tried to kill my best friend twice is not a pleasant conversation"

Stiles gives him bitch face "okey, sarcasm doesn't suit you. don't do it again. But how did you change back? Did derek helped you?"

"Y/n, she did something with her magic? I don't know what happened exactly. One moment I was chasing them and then derek jumped out the window with her and next thing I know I'm licking her face. Derek gives spare clothes. Oh, the vampires where here too"

Stiles run his hands throw his hair "too much information. What are they doing here?"

"I don't know. but derek said he take care of it"

Stiles hum once again surprised by derek but this time he is thankful that derek saved you and in extent all of them. Does that mean he need to be civil with sour wolf he doesn't know but what he does know you're going get an earful when he sees you next time.

You curse lightly when your grams sitting on the front bonnie is not with here. Wordlessly you get out the car whispering a thank you to the officer.

You stand silently twisting the sleeves of your clothes having no courage to look her in the face she exhales she stands up walking towards you. "Tomorrow morning. I want you tell me everything that going on"

You nod without looking up that's when you feel your grams embracing you her hands wrapped around your head running her hands through your hair. You slowly wrap your arms around her "My precious girl. You're safe that all matters" she presses a tender kiss on your hair.

"Bonnie?"

"I send her to bed; she is fine. you go to bed as well"

You let the clothes fall on the floor that when you see claw marks on your hands it surprising how you didn't feel that pain. The cut is not deep enough that you need stiches but deep enough that it would leave marks the blood dried luckily there is no bleeding. Now that the adrenaline gone you could feel stinging sensation. You move your hand slowly testing if it hurts it does the pull of the skin is hurts a little but that alright.

You turn on the shower letting the water pour down on your skin, the dried blood and sweat washing away. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath usually you would be channeling your inner actress and artist giving your various cream and shampoo bottle a show of life time. But here you're reliving what just happened. The alpha is terrifying to look at it straight out of horror movie it's miracle that you didn't faint or gone cardiac arrest then and right there.

Derek, you're beyond grateful that he saved you even though you would exactly say it a loud you know it only boost his If derek wasn't fast enough would it have killed you? but if it wanted to kill you, he should have done when it throws you in the class room? Why did it sperate you from them. You know it want scott it was enraged because scott was trying to betray it. you can still hear the scream of the janitor it made your blood run cold that just few distance away from you someone was brutally being murdered. A part of glad that it wasn't stile that being hurst, is it bad you don't know. Your fist clench at the thought hanging your head shaking away your thoughts.

You know it is planning something and that includes scotts. When you are alone with that thing in the room you, we're scared shitless but you weren't the only one it seems too wary of you as well or rather what you did it. what did you do that, the strange yellow aura that erupted from your fingertips.

It had been an unconscious and unintentional burst of power, driven by pure emotion. But where did come from? You have no witch heritage does living with a family who ancestor are witches grants one the ability that's unlikely and no formal training on supernatural abilities.

You observe your hands the palm the fingertips, a green aura manifest itself your silently gasp with wide eyes as the small lines of green energy move around the shower, then you see the water that once cascading down is hung in the mid air the drops move around you. so, you do whatever this is you bring a large water drop by focusing on one that you deemed the largest. The green orb that is in your palm dissolve letting the drop hung few inches higher on your palm. You tilt your head watching curiously drop you pause for a moment then all water drops that hung suddenly take the shape dolphins swimming around the air as if its swimming in the ocean you let out laugh surprised that it worked. you watch in awe as some of the dolphin's swim around you one even swim Infront of you swimming through a droplet then coming up at you as if it asking for praise. You touch the small creature that you created when you touch it feels like you're touching the water but your amazement cut short when you hear a thud on your bedroom the small creatures also turn to the door one that close to you swim to your hands making you look down at it once last time before it turns to the water along with the others.

Turning off the shower you step out the tub wrapping a towel around your body you slowly open the door peaking through. You see no one but when you turn the lights on you heart skip a beat in instancing you throw the shampoo bottle at the intruder; who the derek who give you deadpan as watch the bottle hit his chest.

"Really a shampoo bottle?" he picks up the bottle from the ground setting it on the table he turns to you with smirk but look away for quick second when he sees that your only in your bath towel, damp hair still clinging to your skin before locking eyes on your face.

You giving him annoyed look "didn't I tell you don't do this?"

"Yeah, but I came here to give this" he takes out your phone the screen is bit broken but it's working he checked. he watches you simply take the device from his hands shouldn't you be at least intimidating especially when your vulnerable Infront of him. He could hurt you right now, threaten you, basically silt your throat.

"You touch me without my permission, it will be your throat that would be silt" you grin up to him.

Derek, give you smile but that falls when he sees your hands the cut from the alpha, taking your hands in his eyes focus on the cut. He can feel the cold skin of your maybe it is because he is extra warm compared to humans.

You let him; he knows more than it better you get his opinion as well.

"It was the alpha, wasn't it?" his jaw clenches, his veins turn black suddenly but he doesn't mind. you glance at him "I'm taking away your pain"

"Thanks, but it doesn't hurt that much though. Do you think that I will...."

Derek let go your arm he could hear fear in your face even though you tried to conceal it "it not deep enough to turn you. but if you felt any change that you think you're turning you will come to me alright?" the seriousness in his voice visible.

"Yeah. I will" you said honestly

He grins back at you his sharp teeth showing "so we have a lot figure out. Who is the alpha? How are able to do what you did back there and just now"

"I can promise you it is not Deaton" you hum crossing your arms "So, it's we now. Huh"

He let out sigh "maybe" derek walks towards the open window "you know you should get your window fixed"

You shake your head with smile as get out the window "it for me sneak out not for you derek"

"I don't really listen to other sometimes" that doesn't surprise you but what does is the Salvatore brothers that standing on the ground.

While you watch them with furrowed brow derek eyes is on you, watching the way moonlight falls on your skin the breeze making body rise goosebumps the air drying your wet skin. The damp hair the clinging your body drying some of the drops from water falling on your hair.

Derek turns away when turns to him glancing at Salvatore's brothers "Caroline" you mumble

"don't worry. I sort it" derek offers

"I know" you say making glance at you "thank you for saving me" you smile at him "but if do this again, I will call animal control" he smiles at the threat without looking at you before jumping down landing perfectly.

"Hey there, magic hands" damon calls giving you a wave "looking a little wet there!" derek and Stefan glare at you

Stefan turns to him "don't start" he glances up at you with apologetic face frowning when he sees you wave at damon.

Damon smirks at them both but it wiped of when he was hit with shampoo bottle and there you smile innocently while flipping damon off.

Derek starts walk away they follow "I don't really care what you guys doing here. But you stay out my way."

"No can do unless you tell us what exactly going on here" damon said

Derek stops turning to them "look I know you both are not here to live a good life or passing by. And I know it has to do something with the girl we saw on the woods with you" derek points at Stefan the girl in the question who is elena gilbert damon give Stefan a look at the mention.

"Honestly, I don't care. But don't come in our matters. Like you did tonight" it is true they can do what they want as long as they don't trouble him.

Stefan sighs "we just wanna know what's going on. Did you turn the kid?"

"No. we are trying to find who did it. but you guys came in between" derek state with a glare his eyes shifting the brothers.

Damon rolls his eyes at derek "fair. What about the hunters?"

"The hunters are werewolf hunter they don't concern you they're after the alpha" derek answers.

"Alright. Then what is she? Is she a witch?" damon asks

Derek remains silent before walking towards damon "what she is none of your business. I know what you're doing here. So, you stay away from her and her friends. Also, you leave the blonde girl alone"

"You said you don't care what we do" damon voiced

"I don't. but the girl is y/n sister's friend which make her y/n's friend" derek turns to Stefan "isn't the girl your girlfriend's best friend. And you let him control her" derek narrow his eyes at Stefan who has guilty look on his face.

Damon slaps his hand on derek back making him turns to "Well, I don't listen to other as well" the next thing damon feel is his arm getting twisted and his knees hit the ground derek eyes turns blue his teeth coming out.

Derek snarl at Stefan when he tried to save his brother "stay" he growls looking down at damon "you know my bite is venomous for vampires, there is no cure. So, you better listen as I say. "Derek let him go.

"I'm hoping you keep him in line" derek said to Stefan before leaving without looking back at them. 

Series masterlist

[beeandheroddobsessions]

You Stop My Heart (Pt.2)

Part 1

Pairing: Elvis x Black! Reader

Summary: Elvis Isn’t the only one who can cause a visceral reaction in the crowd.

Warnings: Implied Racism, race talk, cursing? 50s Elvis. Reader is indeed promiscuous.

A/N: I was so hurt when my original draft vanished in the middle of writing it but I think it was a sign because this came out so much better! The song, as always, isn’t required (but yes it is) but I would recommend playing it once the band starts because it brings it all together and gives an idea of how the reader is singing. Happy reading!

... Alright, here we go

Gumption be damned, all eyes we trained on you, and you hadn't uttered a word yet. The host turns his attention to you, visibly shocked, "H-How are ya tonight, Ms. y/n?" You can't help but feel a little uncomfortable, hands clammy and a mouth as dry as the desert.

"Just fine, sir, thank yo-"

"The hell is she doin' up there?" A man in the sea of people shouts. The question is enough to stir your stomach, bile rising in the back of your throat. We will not blow chunks in front of all these white people. Not tonight, no, ma'am. You decide that your conscious is right and bury the feeling in your feet.

"Is there anything you'd like to say, Ms. y/n?" The host asks, making an effort to ease the tension. A simple "No sir,'" is all you can get out. "Well, alright then, the floor's all yours." With a nod to him, you look over your shoulder toward Greg. You give him the queue to start, praying he doesn't fuck this up.

Sure, you all have practiced a thousand times, but that was in the comfort of your own home, with not nearly as many leering eyes. There's just no telling how a nervous Greg sounds. You turn back toward the crowd, silently praying you wouldn't screw up, either. The first kick of the bass drum confirms that this is really happening.

Mack doesn't usually sing, but she can. She, Val, and Angel open with a simple harmony. You join in soon after. The crowd looks like you first did when Elvis was on, disinterested. Not good. You break from the girls,

"I'm so excited. I can't get past a-one, two, three," There's murmuring throughout the room, but you have to keep the attention.

"I'm so impatient; it's everything you do to me." You're gripping the mic stand like it'll save you from the intense stares. Then, quickly, you glance toward Sister Mack, silently pleading for help. She holds your gaze and mouths gumption. You release the stand from your clutches and loosen up a bit.

Your hips start to sway. "A little fire.. mixed in good with desire." You run your hands from your bust down to your waist, bouncing with the beat. "Makes my heart sing like a choir- I'm on a respirator whenever he leaves." Your hands move from your waist to your hips, and you lean forward, back arched, and cleavage on full display. Whistles ring out through the crowd.

" 'Cause you stop my heart," you lead the chorus; Angel follows, "I can't focus on anything." You grab the stand again, using it as support while

you dip down and throw your head back. " 'Cause you stop my heart..." you flash a smile, "...and you get to beat it back again." Whistles have turned to hollers. Okay, y/n, bring it home now "bum, bum,bumm, bumm, bum..." you rock your hips from side to side on the beat. This has boys rushing the stage to get a better look.

You look back at sister mack and see a smug expression gracing her features. Told you, she mouths. You continue, and the screams get louder. You can't help but think these fellas look so... fucked out. It's your turn to feel smug.

You didn't realize the weight of the situation. White girls sitting in a puddle of their own slick because a white boy got on stage and shook his hips in their face is one thing; white boys creaming their pants for a black girl swaying hers was another.

Mouths hung open as you teased a bit more, pushing up the curls that framed your face and giving a wink. Hands reached out toward you; some got a hold of your leg. You thought you were done for, that they would drag you down and beat you senseless for such a promiscuous display.

You couldn't've been more wrong. Screams for your attention were coming from different directions. "y/n! over here!" One yelled, "I'll treat you right," said another, "Let me show you some fun, darlin'!" you heard.

It was all too much. These men lusting over you was not the expected outcome. You pull away as you begin to finish the song. When it ends, you blow a kiss. Many attendees pretend to catch it, and you can't help the giggle that leaves your mouth.

For the last time, you look over the crowd. You see boys with blown eyes and seething girls red in the face. Boy, did you feel accomplished .

"It was wonderful performing for Yall. Goodnight, everybody!"

You and your friends make your way off the stage. Greg is the first to speak. "Did ya see that? Them boys couldn't get enough!"

"Mhmm, y/n had 'em foamin' at the mouth," Val says.

You shake your head and open your mouth to speak, but Mack beats you to it. "What'd I tell ya? Gumption!" With a roll of your eyes, you reply, "Yes, sister mack, you told me. I didn't do anything too different, though."

"My ass!" Greg exclaims, "You ain't never sang a song like that before. I mean, I ain’t never seen ya move like that and ya were practically moanin’ on stage." You're quick to shake your

head. "I was not! I -” Angel is quick to cut you off,

"Oh yes you were. Every high note in tonight's show was downright sinful." You laughed, "kept the attention, didn't I?"

"Sure did!" Mack shoots back.

With your adrenaline dropping and your stomach rumbling, the need to change into something more comfortable and find food was getting harder to ignore.

"I'm gon' run to the car to grab my other dress and some flats."

Greg gives you a skeptical look, "You ain't goin’ alone. Take Mack."

You roll your eyes. "It's bout twenty feet from the door. I can handle m'self." He shakes his head, "well, at least let her stand and wait for ya."

You breathe through your nose, irritated that he's holding you up.

"Alright, come on, mack." She hops up from where she's sitting, and you two head for the door.

"Your brother's so dramatic." Mack chuckles at your scrunched-up face. "He just worries, is all. We don't know nobody here, and well, you're... Ya know?"

You understand what she means and drop it, not wanting to continue the conversation. "Hmm. Yeah, I guess."

As you push through the door, striking blue eyes meet your own. He takes in a breath and holds out a shaky hand. "Hi... m'Elvis"

Holy fuck.

Taglist: @prayerstopresley @kaitaesupremacy @18lkpeters @dumpsterhippie @dkayfixates @pennyroyalcreep

[theladyofdeath]

Valentines prompt?

Feysands first Valentine’s Day after having nyx?

A/N: I love this prompt! Thank you for sending it in and I hope you enjoy. x

Warnings: none, pure fluff

prompt requests

"Nyx is fine."

"But what if he's not?"

"Then they would've called."

"They haven't called."

"Exactly." Rhysand was trying his best to be patient, but Feyre knew that he was getting annoyed. Being their first date night after having Nyx, Feyre was an absolute mess while Rhysand was the epitome of calm. "We're going out, we look hot, it's Valentine's Day, and we're going to enjoy ourselves, damn it."

With a dramatic sigh, Feyre settled deeper into the passenger seat as Rhysand drove around the parking garage, looking for an open spot. His hand snuck across the center console and took her hand, easing her anxiety, just a smidge.

Yet, when he parked and cut the engine, Feyre didn't move. "I'd feel better if I just called."

Rhysand gave her a look but didn't argue as she took her phone out of her clutch and found Nesta's number.

She didn't answer.

Then she called Cassian.

Who also didn't answer.

When she was just on the verge of panic, her phone vibrated and she slid her finger across the screen as she brought it to her ear. "What the hell?!"

Nesta's calm voice came through the phone. "Aren't you supposed to be enjoying yourself?"

"I told you she wouldn't even last an hour." Cassian's voice came from somewhere in the distance.

Feyre scowled. "I just...wanted to make sure that he had everything he needed."

"You packed enough for him to last the entire weekend and then some." Nesta chuckled. "I know you're worried, and that's perfectly normal, but you know that he's perfectly taken care of. He just ate and fell asleep with Cass in the rocking chair. Yes, he gave us a good burp, and we're about to take him upstairs to change him and get him ready for bed." Feyre opened her mouth to cut in, but Nesta kept going. "If anything goes wrong, I'll call you right away, but it won't. This sweet baby loves his Auntie and Uncle's house."

Feyre knew that. It was the only reason that she even agreed to letting Nyx stay the night there while she and Rhys enjoyed their first date night since the baby had been born, three months before. She was glad Nyx was handling the separation okay, even if Feyre herself was going insane.

"Alright, well, I'll be there no later than nine tomorrow morning," Feyre said, while Rhysand impatiently clicked his tongue.

"I know, you've told me a million times," Nesta said, not unkindly. "Please try to have fun. We have everything under control."

"Okay, okay," Feyre said, throwing open her door, to Rhysand's delight. "Thank you."

After a round of I love you's and farewells, Feyre and Rhysand were walking out of the parking garage and onto the city streets. He took her hand and pulled her close, trying his best to bring her into reality.

"I know it's hard," he said, gently, "and I miss him too, but I'm excited to be here with you. I miss being alone with you."

Feyre missed that, too. It's weird going from a couple to a family of three. One day, all your focus is on each other and the next, every bit of your attention is on someone else, leaving no time to build each other up, to focus on one another's needs.

She stopped and faced him, nearly a block from their restaurant. As his brows furrowed in confusion, Feyre leaned up on her toes and kissed him, slowly. His hands snuck around her waist and he pulled her closer to him, sinking into their kiss. For just a moment, the rest of the world faded away and they were the only two that remained.

Feyre leaned back, just enough to see the mischief in her husband's eyes. "Let's go eat. Get full. A little drunk. Then take me home and maybe you'll get lucky."

A brow quirked. "Maybe?"

"I don't want to seem too forward," she teased.

Rhysand grinned. "Yes, because that would be awful."

With a laugh, feeling much more relaxed, Feyre kissed him again before dragging him down the street to make their reservation.

[pricescigar]

The Bodyguard pt5

John Price X Elvira Wolff

Summary: John Price poses as a Shadow Company soldier alone, infiltrating to retrieve Elvira. Making their grand escape into the forest.

“Thanks to Valeria willingly… Helping us, one of her men managed to get you spare shadow clothes. Once you're in there, you're on your own.” Duncan explained the situation to Price. “Sorry, we can't help you.”

“That was the plan.” Price Replied. “I'll be fine. She'll be fine.” His tone was reassuring.

“I'll just let Ulrich know he'll get his goddaughter in no time.”

Price messaged Ulrich through a burner phone, he updated him as much as he could. He'd rather be overly cautious just in case.

"Got a lead in getting Elvira back, will send you our location when we're at a safe location."

. . .

This was all a mess. Still stuck here in this damned Cell, bruises all over her body. Shit food, shit accommodation. Shit entertainment too. Nothing good about this shithole. Shadow Company doesn't have any taste or any hard feelings at all, don't they? Elvira mentally and physically, was a hard person to break. Poor girl had been through many things a person shouldn't go through, but life has a “funny way” of forging a path.

With Graves constantly yapping into her ear like a dog, constantly asking…

“Where's your godfather?” 24/7, non stop. It was beginning to annoy her, but Graves found it more amusing with how angry. It was almost laughable to him.

Hell Graves was beginning to grow more impatient day by day, the day arrived for Elvira to be transported to Ashika Island, all they got to do was escort her to the airfield which Graves knew was going to be a lot of effort. Judging by Her stubbornness, he didn't know whether Price had his men or not, waiting to be ambushed.

Around 5am the Cell door that held Elvira in the small cramped room was opened, a shadow soldier stepped inside going towards her. Elvira woke up, seeing the soldier. Why was he here so early in the morning? God knows…

“Ugh, you again? Fuck you I'm not going anywhere!” Elvira protested, when she tried to bolt out of the door to escape from him. He knew what she was going to do anyway, she was too predictable sometimes.

The soldier quickly wrapped an arm around her, keeping her closest to his chest, the other covering her mouth.

“Hey, hey… Look, it's me.” The voice sounded familiar, it was no one other than the other her bodyguard’s voice. Price.

Elvira's eyes widened slightly, god she felt relieved. She made sure not to overreact too much, in case anyone else was going to overhear them.

“Listen to me.” Price started speaking. “You're going to have to play the Prisoner role a bit longer for me, love.” His hot breath tickled her ear.

“When I take you to the car, two Shadow's will be in there… One shotgun, one back seat… You think you can knock him out?” Price asked softly, his voice now a whisper. “When I turn the vehicle off route, that'll be your chance to knock out the man next to you.”

“Nod for yes, shake your head for a no.”

Elvira quickly nodded her head, with that Price gently patted his shoulder and uncovered her mouth. With that he put the handcuffs over her wrists, but it wasn't too tight. She let him do what he needed to do and she was guided out of the room.

Outside of the prison – Finally a breath of fresh air, Graves was nowhere to be seen. Price wasn't concerned. He'd deal with him later, getting Elvira out was far more important. As he said, Price was in the driver's seat, one guy beside him and another next to Elvira in the back seat.

“Never seen her so silent.” One shadow commented. “What did you do to make her quiet newbie?” He questioned looking at Price.

“Stern talk.” Was all he said.

The doors closed and the cars set off, driving off one by one. There were only three vehicles driving. Two at the front were full of shadow soldiers. The last contained Price, Elvira and two guards as well.

The car drive was fairly simple, Price in the driver's seat was following the other cars. He looked up at the rear view mirror to check up on Elvira. Elvira didn't know when she was supposed to knock out the soldier next to her, yet her cut told her to be ready for anything. And she was right.

Price swerved the car off road as it went into the forest dirt track, Elvira quickly kicked out the soldier that was next to her with her elbow. The soldier that was next to Price put up a good fight, a couple of times he nearly lost control of the car. Due to him fighting off the shadow, and trying not to crash.

Elvira grabbed the shoulder putting her arm around him to try and choke the poor bastard. Putting him in a headlock.

“Get off of him you stupid Bastard!” Elvira hissed using her strength to choke the soldier.

“Shit-” Price slammed the brakes seeing a deer jumping by unexpectedly, the tires screeched. After they unexpectedly stopped.

"Fuckin' deer..." He cursed to himself.

By that time the soldier was dead, Elvira pulled herself off of him as she sighed leaning back on the back seat.

“We need to get out of here. They're bound to track the car down.” Elvira explained. “They might have a tracker on it.”

Price nodded in agreement, he got out of the car. Elvira did as well, standing beside her once more.

“Can't leave any dead ends.” Price got a C4, throwing it against the car. At a safe distance the car exploded, after that the two quickly ran since it caused such a loud noise.

“We need to go, the other cars are bound to come back for us now. Go in the forest.” Price said. He took off the shadow helmet and patch. Throwing both of them into the fire, keeping the bullet proof vest on for protection and keeping the firearms he obtained.

Elvira ran with Price in the forest, trying to keep up with the pace that he was running. Despite how much her legs ached, she ignored the pain and kept up with Price. They did a good number on her, with all the bruises and cuts.

“There, look! A barn. We should take shelter there.” Price said as he quickly went towards the door, he opened it for Elvira so she could get in first.

Elvira used the last bit of her strength and ran inside the barn. Price took one last long look at their surroundings, no one was around. No one seemed to have followed them…

Price went inside the Barn, closing the wooden door behind him. For now, they would have to ranian here, until it was safe enough to even think about leaving.

-

[ Pt 6 ]

[kingshimura4872]

Shorts with Shimura

A/N: Howdy howdy chitlins. How are we doing this fine Evening/Morning/Night? I hope all of you are drinking plenty of water and eating an adequate amount of food for the party in your tummy. (It'sareferencesomeonepleaselaugh)

So, funny story ^^;....I haven't really gotten the motivation to work on a part three/four (I'm so deadass rn, I don't even remember lmao)

B U T

I do have a load of other one shots to share with the world bc my cringe has to go somewhere lol.

So without further ado, feed my children.

Oh and smth else, for those of you that reblogged some of my things, either ask me first, give credit, or just don't please <3

__________________________________________________________

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura x GN? Reader (They kinda get called both him and her, idk)

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: American Stereotyping and slander (I hate it here so I might as well take out my anger on a made of character), Barris being a creep, somewhat quick mention of being touched in an unwanted sexual or insinuating way, brief descriptions of stripping clothing at the end (It's not smut don't even try), different languages (Just Japanese and I had to use google translate instead of my yandex translator bc it would only give me kanji and fsr I REALLY didn't want kanji idk), petplay if you squint rlly hard?, Some dark themes so just don't let it get up ur ass if I ruin your mood lmao

Think that's it, if I missed anything, shoot me a comment or dm and I'll do my best to fix it asap.

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“And what makes me think you’d pose a threat? I don’t think you’re in the right place to be making demands.” 

Shigaraki sat unphased. His blood red eyes bored into the skull of a new pompous problem. The bastard, while annoying as all hell, was a somewhat important asset to his current objective. He’d already become the leader of the Paranormal Liberation Front, but now he wanted to move international. So here stood his next step. The leader of a quite well known villain organization from the United States in North America. He knew that if he could get this man on his side, he’d have no problem getting the two other countries that sat on the continent as well. But for the love of God, were these Americans so full of it. He’d barely gotten a proper word in comparison to the other male, who’d been talking almost the entire time. Americans sure knew how to run their mouths like they owned the world. 

   “Well, I am the one that invited you here. And right under the authorities' noses at that. No one knows you’re here and we could so easily change that fact if you wish to keep rubbing your nose in what you have no business knowing.” The scarred individual finally sighed, standing up from his chair. This empty ‘office’ room was quite stuffy, most likely from the pure stench this American was exuding. Americans should learn to properly bathe themselves before getting on such a high horse. He thought to himself, walking around the chair and leaning an elbow on the back of it. 

   “I personally have a trained hitman at my beck and call, ready to do whatever I order it to. Where’s your protection, Mr. American?” A smug grin spread across his face as the American man became very easily irate.

   “I have plenty of protection, guns cocked and ready to blaze if you so much as let a hair fall out of place!” He spat, actual saliva flying around and landing on various surfaces. Shigaraki tsked at the man for getting so angered at a simple pointer, almost as if he was scolding a child. 

   “This is tiresome back and forth with you, Mr. Barris. We can either talk out our reasoning for being here in the first place like adults, or I can order my soldiers to kill you before any of them have time to take the safety off their weapons.” Shigaraki scoffed, getting increasingly impatient. Both men quickly changed their tune, Shigaraki sitting back down and the American pulling out a file from his briefcase.

   “What do you want in this exchange, Mr. Shigaraki?” The American spoke first, crossing his arms.

   “I simply want everything you and your group’s services can offer. I’m not a fan of only leading Japan anymore. I wish to move elsewhere and if you and I can work out a deal, I’ll have less of a headache getting others to agree. You do have quite the influence afterall.”

This seemed to mull over well with the man as a smug expression was now plastered all over his sweaty face. 

   “I do indeed, don’t I?” Shigaraki nodded stiffly. He despised stroking people’s egos. It annoyed him to no end, but ever since taking full control of himself and killing All For One himself, he had to pick up the slack his master had originally done. This included finding powerful allies and working towards a stronger army. He bit his tongue in order to not spew something idiotic that would work poorly for him as the American once again began talking about himself and his underground empire. He had a main goal for this new alliance. He understood that Americans were good at three things. Being full of themselves all the time, strong weapons, and drugs. The yakuza group Overhaul had built was good, but it relied on the quirk of an incredibly young girl and once that girl had been taken, he knew they were doomed to fall no matter how that end came. He found the quirk erasing drugs quite interesting and knew if anyone could capitalize on that, it was him. Money was no longer an object and he was willing to throw whatever the stupid American wanted to get his hands on that kind of technology. He wanted it. And when he wanted something, he got it. Every. Single. Time.

   “We’re willing to do just about anything to work around your wants. Name your price, Mr. Barris.” 

   “Straight to the point I see. Your English may be good, but Japanese people are always the same. Never a fan of small talk. What happened to civil liberties? You should get to know me first before tossing money on the table.” Barris laughed out, his posture visibly relaxing. Good. 

   “I apologize.” Shigaraki forced a chuckle. “I simply want to get it out in the air so we can get out of each other’s hair as fast as possible. We’re both very busy men, you know.”

   “Ain’t that the damn truth.” Barris laughed again, slapping his knee in the process. Shigaraki stifled a laugh. They really DO do that.

   “Anyways. Small pleasantries aside. What is it that you’d like to gain from this exchange?”

   “Hm.” Barris looked down at the folder in front of him, opening it and pulling out a few papers. “Well, you did have a good idea with offering money. But we also want numbers of another calibur.”

   “And that’d be?”

   “We want some of those ‘nomus’ y’all have. And people who are good at making more. We’ve seen what those beasts can do, and I think it’d be fun to have a couple of our own. We can use it for testing and such. Along with this.” He slid a small piece of cardstock with something written on it. It was amusing to Shigaraki. It was like those crappy American movies to the T. Sliding the price they wanted over with a piece of paper during an exchange. It was almost humoring. He picked up the cardstock, looking at the price. It was outrageous for what he was getting in return, but he did need this deal.

   “Fine. Would you like it in full?”

   “Not necessary. Take your time with the payment, but I do request we get the entire amount within the next calendar year.”

   “Fair enough.”

The two stood up and shook hands. Barris wasn’t afraid of touching the villain, as he was wearing two fingered gloves. Something someone had to convince him to do during this endeavor. But he wouldn’t disclose that information to anyone. 

   “There is one more thing I’d like to ask of you. It’s more of a personal preference.” Barris dropped, smiling as he sunk his hands into his suit pockets.

   “And what would that be?”

   “I heard from a little bee that you’ve gotten one of mine under your command. I’d like to see them.”

Shigaraki’s eye twitched and he scowled a bit. “And who would this ‘little bee’ happen to be?”

   “No one you need to concern yourself with. I simply want to see if I know them personally. I wasn’t told who they were, but I was told they were American like myself, so I’d like to meet them.” Barris explained.

I’ll kill whoever told this scum about him. Shigaraki told himself as he sighed. He wasn’t really in the position to deny many requests from the man, as he could just as easily take back his agreement to the offer. 

   “Fine. But only for a moment. I like to keep him busy.” He hummed, taking a step back from the table. He brought two fingers to his mouth and whistled rather loudly, Barris tipping his head to the side in confusion. Was this American not human or something? In the blink of an eye, a new figure appeared at the villain’s side, cloaked in a black uniform and kitsune kabuki mask obscuring their face. Two blades clung to their back and strapped to each thigh was an OTs-33 Pernach, most likely already loaded and ready to fire at will. The blades in question were matching Tachi words, jet black and blood red stained leather woven in an intricate pattern on each handle and an antique tsuba created by Sunagawa Masayoshi sat snugly between the razor sharp blades and the handles. 

   “Sir.” You spoke, bowing to Shigaraki. He looked at you blankly.

   “Kneel” Was all he said. And you did without hesitation, kneeling on one knee and a hand lay flat on the cold tile flooring of the room. He reached a hand down, gently grasping your chin and lifting your gaze to meet his. He seemed pleased with himself.

   “Mask.”

Without question, you unclasped the straps that sat on the back of your head with a soft click, pulling your kabuki mask off and giving it to him. “Stand.” You did. Barris met your frame with another mask, this time only covering your nose and mouth, however your neck length hair came with fluffy bangs that covered your eyes well enough.

“Kochira wa Barisudesu. Anata ga tsurete kuru yō ni meiji rareta amerikahitodesu. Anata wa futari tomo amerikahitonanode, kare wa anata ni chokusetsu aitai to omotte imasu. Kare wa anata no koto o shitte iru kamo shirenai to omotte imasu.”

   (This is Barris. The American you were ordered to bring. He wishes to see you in person since you’re both American. Thinks he might know you.)

You nodded and glanced at the man.

   "Kare ga nani o hakidasoutomo, anata wa watashi no monodeari tsuzukeru deshou. Kare wa kimochi waruinode, dekirudakehayaku watashi no me kara kiete hoshīdesu. Kare o koko kara tsuredasu tame ni dekiru kagiri no koto o shite kudasai, shikashi oboete oite kudasai..” He grasped your chin again, pulling you a bit closer to him. “Anata wa watashi no monodesu.”

   (You will remain mine, no matter what he spews. He’s disgusting and I want him out of my sight as soon as possible. Do what you can to get him out of here, but remember…. You belong to me.)

You nodded again, and turned to the man.

   “Quite the mouthful he said.” Barris chuckled. “Makes me wonder what he’s saying about me.”

   “Permission to speak freely, sir?” You asked.

   “Granted.” Shigaraki replied.

   “I was only informed that it was you I was ordered with transporting here. I was wondering who was so important that it required my services.” You hummed, walking around the table.

   “Shigoto o kichinto yareba, go hōbi o ageru yo, kitsune.” Shigaraki added, walking around the other side of the table to leave the room.

   “Hai.” 

When he shut the door behind him, Barris wasted no time, putting his hands on your body. You wanted to slither away from his grimey touch, but you knew this was the best way to get him where you both wanted him.

   “I heard you were one of mine, and I just had to see if I knew you personally, doll.” He remarked, one of his hands sliding down your side and resting just above your hip. You did your best to hide a grimace, hoping it didn’t show through the mask as you slowly snaked your hands up his arms.

   “I don’t think I worked for you, Mr. Barris. I would definitely remember working for a man such as yourself.” You sang, twirling yourself out of his grasp and slipping onto the table. You crossed a leg over the other and sat your hands on the edges of the table for support. You looked open, inviting, weak. And that was exactly what you were aiming for. Men like him loved weak people. They loved preying on anyone they perceived as having weak minds and melding them to bend at their will. You were all too familiar with his kind. It sickened you that he thought you’d break so easily. You devoted your life to one man and one man only. And no scum like this was going to make you so much as blink in the other direction. 

   “Is that so? And what kind of man do you take me for?” He grinned. You were stroking his ego more by the second. 

   “Powerful. Commanding. A man who knows what he wants and how to get it.” A man who wouldn’t know left from right if it was tattooed on his hands. You thought.

.

.

.

You shut the door to the unmarked black car as the window rolled down.

   “I do look forward to working with you, doll.” Barris smiled, taking your hand and kissing it slowly. You smiled sweetly to him under the mask, knowing he could see it. 

   “As do I, Mr. Barris. Nice to have another American around.”

He let out a hearty laugh, letting your hand go and glancing at Shigaraki who’d been standing a bit behind you.

   “I look forward to business, Mr. Shigaraki.” 

   “Mm. Likewise.” They both nodded to each other and shook hands before you waved lightly to the driver. The window rolled back up as the vehicle drove off. Your smile stayed only until the car turned a corner, to which you immediately grimaced openly. Shigaraki took you back inside to a different room - his private quarters in this particular building - and grabbed a few alcohol wipes for you. You quickly took one and rubbed it against both your hands, taking time to wipe every inch of the uniform he’d laid his grimy hands on.

   “I take it, your…talk with him, went well then?” The man asked, leaning against a small table near the corner of the room.

   “Ugh, he was putrid. I could practically TASTE how bad he smelled. Can’t believe I was born in the same place as him.” You keened. Your body shivered at the mere thought of him touching you again and you quickly rid yourself of your accessories. You placed them on one of the shelves the room had and huffed.

   “We should bathe you. Who knows what kind of germs he had.” Shigaraki jested, but you quickly took the invite, shedding your clothing one piece at a time. He was a bit surprised at your eagerness, but went with it nonetheless, guiding you to the bathroom and starting the water.

   “Ugh, I forgot how touchy Americans are. Here, you wouldn’t even think to touch a stranger so nonchalantly. 

He fixed the temperature, shedding his own garments and helping you with what you had left.

   “And to think, we have to work with him now, it disgusts me. He was so full of himself, I thought he might explode from how big his head was.” 

You continued to rant as you brainlessly followed your leader’s movements into the now full tub of hot water. The second you were seated on top of him, you were pulled back to the present.

   “Oh. You didn’t have to waste your time getting in with me.” You said in a quieter tone.

   “Eh. Two birds with one stone. I had to touch him too, not sure if whatever he has can spread from the contact area.” He joked. You couldn’t hold yourself back from a small laugh, covering your mouth as he pulled your back flat against his chest.

[y2kuromi]

⭑ : 呪術廻戦 ❛ 𝗔𝗠𝗕𝗜𝗩𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘 : satoru gojo x fem! reader

࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 synopsis: you can’t shake the mixed feelings you have about satoru, but first impressions don't always reveal what a person is like

contents: crack? sashisu! dynamic. profanities. teen! gojo being cocky (what else is new?) second & third person pov

summer isn’t over yet! collection, can be read as a stand-alone

your first day at jujutsu tech was anything but insipid. the sun was at its peak, golden rays reflecting off the gray asphalt and dousing the foothills of mount mushiro in pure light. the wind subtly tousled your hair and the crimson torii gate cast shadows on your face.

summer, was indubitably your favourite season. it came with fun. smiles. laughter. adventure. meeting new people. and most importantly freedom.

the days got longer, school got shorter and you were typically free to do whatever you pleased. however, that wasn’t the case this year. the taiyo clan leaders had forced you to accept the offer to attend tokyo jujutsu high and you stood impatiently beside masamichi yaga —your new teacher — while you waited for your classmates in the courtyard

"sorry about this" he says sheepishly, running an exasperated hand over his face "i told them to be here as early as possible, but i can barely keep them in check”

“what are they like?” you asked, smoothing your fingers over your pleated skirt, “do you have a photograph”

“i do oddly enough, shoko’s into photography so she takes these polaroids of everything and everyone” he sifts around in his pockets until his fingers graze the crumpled picture. "these are your classmates — suguru geto, satoru gojo, and shoko ieiri”

your eyes skimmed over the three first years, the first boy had deep violet eyes and long black hair scraped into a bun. he rested his chin in the divot of his palms, his ear smushed against his lithe fingers. his black pearl earrings reflected the fluorescent lights. "suguru" the name checked out. he did look like he was famous

the second boy "satoru" was his polar opposite with fluffy white hair that defied all forms of gravity. he was slumped against the wooden table, blacked out sunglasses propped against his nose.his bright blue eyes peered curiously over the lenses. they were almost startling, something about their intensity felt like he could see everything, everywhere all at once

the girl "shoko", balanced them out with her brown chin length hair and the mole underneath her right eye. an ivory unlit cigarette was nestled between her plush pink lips

“they seem… nice”

“shoko’s the nicest of the three, she’s a sweetheart so you’ll get along just fine” he muses, “suguru is usually a gentleman compared to satoru. satoru’s too full of himself and he’s a terrible influence, please try to keep on the straight and narrow”

“i will” you said, shifting from one foot to another. you were very nervous about meeting your classmates— especially the esteemed strongest whose birth alone shifted the balance of the jujutsu world. it almost seemed unreal that he went to the same school as you

hell, this whole thing seemed unreal. tokyo jujutsu high was bigger than you’d imagined. it was surrounded by the forests and was spread vastly over the mountain. there was no way you’d learn your way around.

you could see a figure approaching you from the distance. you figured it was ieiri, although her photograph didn’t do her enough justice. shoko was even more beautiful in person, her dark brown hair grazed her shoulders and curled around her ears. her eyes radiated sunlight, the colour of honeyed caramel and she smelled like jasmine and sandalwood. she waved at you, and you smiled in response.

“finally” he sighed, “ieiri what time do you call this? and where are those knuckleheads?”

"sorry i'm late sensei!" she says, bowing slightly, "i couldn't drag satoru and suguru out of bed, they stayed up late playing video games again"

"i'll have to confiscate the wii" yaga sighed, shaking his head before glancing at his watch. he seemed to visibly turn pale as he registered the time, "shoko could you take (y/n) on a tour of the campus?"

"aren't you supposed to be be the one doing that?” she asks, thumbing at the cigarette slotted between her lips, “not that i mind, i just hope you’re not slacking off again”

"kids these days," he mutters under his breath "i would be the one giving you a tour, but i need to head to kyoto for a meeting”

“if you say so” shoko hums, she squeezes your forearm gently before looping her arm through yours, “c’mon (y/n), you’re much better off with me anyways”

“funny” yaga deadpans, “i’m off now, try and introduce (y/n) to the others” with a final glance at his watch, he hastily makes his way down the foothills and out of sight

“i’m so glad we finally have another girl” shoko says, eyes twinkling, “you’re from the taiyo clan right?“

“yeahh i’m from the taiyo clan” you nodded. the two of you walked over the cobbled floors in sync until shoko came to a stop in front of one of the huge buildings

“can i take a photo for my album” she asks, plush pink lips moving around the cigarette slotted between them, “the uniform looks so good on you”

despite being reluctant to come here, you were glad the uniforms were customisable and yaga had perfected your requested alterations.

your asymmetrical navy blue jacket had the sailor suit style and a silky white bow hanging slightly above your chest . your jacket was tucked into a black skirt that hung above your knees, and you wore black knee-high socks and loafers.

“you can” you grinned, without wasting a mere second she angled her camera and attempted to capture your beauty to memory.

“i wish those idiots came with me, it would’ve been so cool to get one of all of us” she pouts, “you’ll meet them later, whenever they crawl out of their rooms”

she trudged nimbly up the cobbled stairs with splatters of fuzzy moss and into the traditionally built building you stood before.

“these are the classrooms” she gestures to the vast corridor lined with wooden sliding doors. some of them are pristine while the others have cracks lining the chipped wood

“there’s so many” you gawk, “y’know i thought jujutsu tech was really small, yaga said there were barely any students”

“it is really small” she laughs, “there are two second years and three first years, four now that you’re here. jujutsu sorcerers are rare so class sizes are really small. we only use two of the classrooms”

she slid the door to her left open, the classroom was filled with wooden desks and had a blackboard behind the podium you assumed was the teaching area

the windows were open and gusts of airy summer breeze wafted through the panes. you trailed in after her and noticed that most of the desks were upturned except three in the front row

“this is our classroom” shoko said, trailing her fingers over the desk in the middle. it had scribbled kanji and cartoony digimon sketches on it. “we come here for homeroom and regular classes”

“like math and science?” you asked, raising a brow. yaga hadn’t mentioned anything about formal education when he’d picked you up from the station that morning

“we do english too” she sighs, “it’s honestly such a pain. anyways, the school has training grounds, courtyards, dormitories, common rooms and a bunch of other stuff, what do you wanna see first?”

“the dorms” you hummed, tucking your hands into your skirt pockets, “they’re probably the closest to us”

essentially, you were right. the dorms were less than a minute away from the classroom block. the hallway was wide and had less doors than the classroom’s corridor. the wood looked freshly polished and cardboard signs hung on the sliding doors.

“so these are the dorms” shoko said, “they can be reorganized and decorated as you see fit. like the classrooms, there are many empty rooms”

you can hear the faint sound of heavy metal music and the sound of videogames seeping underneath the doors on your right

“the second years are further down the hallway” shoko says, “satoru and suguru are on the right and this is my room,”

she creaks the door open and you see a flash of pinky and earthy tones. it looks nice, although it’s rather messy. there are piles of clothes beside the window and old soda cans littered on her dresser

“i’m not really the neatest person ever” she giggles sheepishly, before sliding her door shut, “this room is yours, yaga put us next to each-other”

your hand rests on the doorknob, just as you’re about to slide it open you hear footsteps coming towards you.

your eyes fall on a girl with long blackish-purple hair in a traditional miko outfit. she seems mildly irritated and a girl with long blue-grey hair scraped into a ponytail trailed languidly behind her.

“shokoooo” utahime squeals, bounding joyfully towards her favourite first year. her long blackish-purple curls hang loosely in ringlets down her back and her brown eyes sparkled “have you seen that nuisance gojo?”

“no he's not out of his room yet” shoko said, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “what has he done now?”

“what hasn’t he done” utahime muttered under her breath, “‘m gonna fucking kill him this time i swear”

“that so?” mei-mei chuckles, “quit swearing in-front of the new first year utahime-san”

“is this the new first year?” utahime asks, snapping out of her angry daze and finally her brown eyes flicker over to you, “sorry about that, that imbecile brings out the worst in me”

“(y/n) this is utahime and this is mei-mei” shoko says, pointing at them respectively, “they’re the second years”

“nice to meet you taiyo” mei-mei hummed, her red painted lips stretched into a lazy smile as she held out her freshly manicured hand. you took it tentatively. “do you mind if we join your tour ieiri?”

“i don’t mind but you should really ask (y/n)” she shrugs

mei-mei shoots you an expectant look, you reciprocate with a nod, “i don’t mind, the more the merrier”

“yes!” mei-mei grins, “i love giving tours, let’s go to the common room and get something to eat”

“can you make us pancakes utahime-san” shoko pleads, batting her eyelashes and clasping her hands together, “or french toast”

“i will, as long as that moron doesn’t get to have any” utahime says, cracking her knuckles, “when i get wind of him i’ll-”

“so the school mainly fronts as a buddhist temple, which is why it has the traditional architectural style and several statues of deities, shrines, and torii gates around campus” mei-mei explained, interrupting utahime who looked very bristled

the quirk in her eyebrow faded into nothing but pure bliss as shoko looped her arm through hers. the pair trailed slowly behind you as mei-mei transversed down the hallway and up the stairs

the rest of the morning is a slow sugary blur. utahime makes her famous pancakes and mei-mei happily explained jujutsu regulations to you while shoko showed you her photo album.

( it was a quarter full, with pictures of suguru and satoru goofing off or utahime and satoru in the midst of some altercation with a few rare photos of yaga sleeping)

“normies can’t see us because we’re hidden by a protective barrier held by tengen-sama, he lives under the school in the tombs of the star.” mei-mei says, after taking a bite of syrupy pancakes, “that’s pretty much everything you need to know”

“thank you for the pancakes utahime-san” you said between bites of fluffy goodness, “and thank you so much for the tour”

“don’t mention it” utahime grins, “consider this your official welcome to jujutsu tech”

the saccharine serenity shatters as satoru — and suguru — make their way into the kitchen. the blue eyed boy is still in his pyjamas while suguru’s dressed in what seems to be his uniform

“yooo” satoru yawns, “ouu hime you made pancakes? don’t mind if i do”

you peered at him curiously. was this the satoru gojo? the esteemed strongest whose birth alone shifted the balance of the jujutsu world? he seemed like an ordinary teenager. gangly legs, pale veiny hands, white unkempt hair, and blue eyes hidden behind weird sunglasses.

he didn’t look like much, childishly swiping a piece of pancake off utahime’s stack and quickly stuffing the sweet batter into his mouth

“you have some nerve-” she grumbled, throwing her fork at him. it bounces off some sort of invisible wall and falls beside his feet, “be more polite to your elders”

“is this the newbie?" satoru asks waving her off, you notice him take off his round sunglasses and his infinitely blue eyes are fixed on you

“i’m pretty sure she has a name” suguru says, nudging him with his elbow, trying and failing to salvage what was left of a good first impression.

“the rookie from the taiyo clan?” he asks, raising a perfectly arched brow “is this the girl yaga was talking about”

he was trying to make headway of your face, to see what you looked like. he was unsuccessful, your eyes were trained on your pancakes and the syrup pooling on the blue ceramic plate

“it’s (y/n)” shoko sighs, “and you were supposed to meet her earlier but you two refused to get out of bed”

“sorry about that (y/n)” geto offers, his apology seemed genuine and heartfelt, “we were up pretty late last night, otherwise we would’ve been there”

you finally looked up from your plate and shook your head before flashing suguru a heart-stopping smile, “you’re all good don’t worry”

for the first time in all fifteen and a half years of his life, satoru seemed to be at a loss for words. he knew he should probably apologise and try to make you view him in a better light. but he couldn’t find the words.

not that it mattered now. you shot him an icy glare as you stalked past him and dropped your plate in the sink. he feels shivers run down his spine.

"i want to show you the morgue and the cursed warehouse!" mei-mei says, throwing an arm over your shoulder, “we can pick out a tool for you”

satoru’s cerulean eyes snapped to yours, he saw a flicker of something he couldn’t quite place passing through them. it didn’t look positive. he sensed aversion, dislike, maybe even hatred?

"see you in a bit" you wave to your upperclassman, and shoko and suguru as mei-mei led you out of the common room. the friendly gesture doesn't extend to satoru. he blinks. once. twice. and then he finally snaps out of it

"she's beautiful holy shit" he whispers incredulously, shaking suguru by his shoulders. then his infinitely blue eyes are fixed on shoko "i would've gotten up if you told me that"

suguru shrugged him off, “you’ve ruined any chances you had of getting with her, i told you you needed to stop being so rude”

“i can fix this surely” he sounds panicked, “do i go after them? or should i wait until she’s alone-”

"what an imbecile" utahime bursts out laughing , slamming her fist down on the table as she shakes with laughter, “can you believe him?”

“you’re too full of yourself” shoko says, shaking her head, “rookie? newbie? that’s really bad even for you i’m sure she hates you now”

“can you blame her?” utahime quips, “it’s only natural to hate gojo” she pushed her chair back and smoothed a hand over her neatly pressed clothes, intending to start on the dishes.

“hate is a strong word” suguru pipes up, pulling out a seat, “they just got off on the wrong foot, classic satoru”

“not you too suguru” he whines, pooling into a puddle of despair and anguish on the tiled floor

“so dramatic” suguru mutters, scooping an untouched pancake off shoko’s plate. they exchanged glances as they watched satoru have an existential crisis beside the counter. summer was going to be interesting

© Y2KUROMI 2024. please do not plagiarise, repost, or translate any of my works on here or any other websites.

[mr-m-murdock]

hiii can i request nat x reader where reader hides an injury from Nat and Nat finds out? maybe angst ending with fluff

band-aids for bullet holes

| natasha x reader |

warnings: injuries

a/n: thanks for the angst :) I'm enjoying torturing you guys. BUT it does have a happy ending, as requested

The apartment is dark when you open the door. You scan for any signs of Natasha, a plate on the drying rack or her jacket thrown over the back of the couch: nothing. But your tired eyes skim right over the takeout box on the coffee table, and you stumble into the bathroom down the hall without noticing it.

You discard your ruined shirt on the edge of the bathtub without bothering to close the door, and begin to rifle through the medicine cabinet. Painkillers, cough syrup, even damn hand sanitizer, anything you can find just to take the edge off the pain in your side.

You can't bear to look at the wound yet, but even in the dim light, you can see your stomach is slick and wet with blood.

You shake three paracetamol into your palm and take them dry with a desperate swallow and a wince. Then you sink down onto the toilet lid, slowly, slowly to avoid agitating the pain, and rest your head back against the tank with a clunk.

You touch the wound tentatively. The light brush of your fingers sends a sting through your ribs and you suck your bottom lip in past your teeth, bite down hard so as not to make a sound. You're stiff, your head swimming. God, if you'd just dodged the idiot, this wouldn't be happening.

With every movement sluggish and careful, you slit open the first aid kit and try to clean yourself up. You wet a cloth with water and drip it down your side, ignoring the pink puddles it makes on the bathroom floor. Then you blot the cloth with antiseptic, take a deep breath, and press it all up against the wound.

The pain is instant like a burn. You whimper into your teeth. Thank God Nat isn't here, thank God she's not going to see you like this and worry and panic-

"You okay?" comes a voice, from just down the hall - Natasha's voice, low and rough with sleep. You freeze, your side stinging like a bitch. Her feet thud closer, purposefully noisy, and she calls your name as she emerges from the hall. You react, slamming the door closed with your foot, and you hear her stumble backwards. "Um..." she says.

"I'm naked," you blurt. You smack yourself in the head. I'm naked? Seriously?

Predictably, Natasha laughs. "Okay, babe. What are you actually doing in there?"

"Cocaine," you reply acidly, fumbling for a bandage. She tests the door handle and you push your heel more securely against the door.

She says your name again, worry creeping into her voice.

"I'm fine," you reply.

"So let me in."

"I'm having a bath."

"I didn't hear the water running."

With the bandage now in your teeth, you can't reply, and she then she says your full name, her voice tinged with urgency.

Uh-oh.

"Let me in," she says. No room for argument. You thump your head against the toilet tank and glare at the ceiling. Then you release your foot from the door.

It swings open torturously slowly. She stands in the doorway, head tilted, surveying the mess you've made. And when she speaks, her voice is tight. "What the hell happened to you?" she says. Rhetorical question. Her face is carefully, casually blank. She's angry.

And she's right to be. You'd only recently been shot in the shoulder by an asshole with a sawn-off shotgun, and after that she'd made you promise you wouldn't go picking fights by yourself. Promises mean too much to her in your opinion, but you really had intended to keep this one.

"Knife," you say, in between your short breaths. "Nat-"

"Don't," she says shortly. Ice cold. Sharp as a blade. You shut your mouth. You'd been about to apologise.

She steps in, avoid the smears of blood on the floor, and kneels next to you. She pulls your hands from the wound impatiently. Were she less pissed, she'd be scolding you for not cleaning it properly, but now there's just thick, freezing silence between the two of you.

She cleans you up, stitches you closed and bandages the whole thing in clean, methodical movements, her touch gentle and her face hard as stone. You watch her hands move and wait for your chance to speak, a lump in your throat. You never want to scare her. Never.

When she's finished, she stands to wash her hands without looking at you. You sit slumped on the toilet lid, blood crusting and drying on your skin and clothes.

Natasha stoops to pick up your ruined shirt and leaves silently. You let her go. You hear her pedal open the kitchen bin and drop the shirt in amongst the trash.

Natasha's never forceful when she's angry, never loud or abrasive, never emotional. She's silent, viciously so, which is somehow worse. She'll speak softly - you know she hates to get mad, especially at you. And you know her well enough to recognise all the signs.

She doesn't talk to you when you limp out of the bathroom, your side aching. You avoid her eyes.

Until she's turning to walk away, and you realise she's put pants and a jacket on, and she's about to walk out.

"Nat, wait," you say. She halts, reaching for the door handle. Her shoulders are tight, her knuckles pale as she grips the handle. You search for words to fill the silence. "Where are you going?" you ask. They fall flat in front of you.

"Out," Natasha replies. She offers your bandaged ribs a cursory glance over her shoulder. "I'll be back to redress that."

"Can you just-" you say, your throat thickening. "I'm sorry. Please stay." Useless right now. She wants to be alone. But you can tell she's reluctant to leave.

She releases the door handle, and clenches her hands by her sides instead. "You promised me you'd be careful," she says. Her voice is not cool and vicious anymore: now, the vowels shake and her shoulders are tight as she gets the words out.

"I'm fine," you insist. "It was a mistake. Just one mistake." She turns to face you, but she doesn't look at you. Her eyes are rimmed angrily red. "Nat?"

"If I can't trust you, of all people, to keep your damn promises," she says, and she takes a large breath that seems to catch in her chest. Her eyes drag painfully up to yours and narrow. "Then who can I trust?" And she turns, yanks the door open and is gone.

The jamb clicks. You can't hear her footsteps receding.

Fuck.

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

You're sprawled across the couch when Natasha gets back, your eyes closed and a frown resting like a stone between your eyebrows. She closes the door quietly. Waits. Watches.

She regrets arguing and growling and leaving. She regrets that she didn't really explain anything at all.

You wake slowly, sensing a shift in the room. You turn left, right, and your eyes slide right over her before you double take and snap back.

"Nat," you say, your voice slurred with sleep.

She twists her hands into the front of her shirt. I'm sorry. So easy to say, two words, three syllables. "How are you feeling?" she asks instead.

You blink at her, still registering her presence. Relief rising: she came back, she's not so angry that she wants to leave you hanging off a hook like a guilty idiot who took the bait. "You're back," you say. Your breath rushes out of you and your side twinges and you wince back from the pain. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry-"

"No, it's okay," Natasha says, and she crosses the room and pushes your hair off your face. She kisses your cheek. "It's okay. I'm sorry." She traces a pillow crease down the side of your jaw. You frown at her. "I should have explained. I should have trusted you. I know you can take care of yourself." The sentences come piling out of her mouth, each one eager behind the other, like three bullets in a wall. You grip her wrist.

"You were so angry," you say sadly. But she shakes her head.

"I wasn't angry, I wasn't. I was upset. I was - I was scared. I shouldn't have taken it out on you." She doesn't seem able to keep your gaze.

"Okay," you say. You press your lips to the inside of her wrist, feel the tendons relax. "I'm sorry I got my ass beat."

Above you, she snorts. Her fingers play over your skin and you lean into her hand.

"Stay tonight," you mumble, your eyes closing. Her other hand drifts through your hair.

"I will. I'm sorry."

"And stop apologising." You know what she feels, even if she still hasn't explained. She cares far more for you than she ever has for anyone before: it's a terrifying thing. But losing this is even more terrifying. You grip her arm and tug her down to kiss her.

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[escapenightmare]

hello !!!!!!! ur works r literally my therapy and sleeping pills bc they r god tier <33

can i request the main three + tamaki and hitoshi when their gn s/o (pranks them) wipes away their kiss? hope you have an amazing day!!

WHEN YOU WIPE AWAY THEIR KISS.

― izuku, shoto, bakugou x gn!reader

cw. grammar errors probably notes. thank you so much! this is overdue, and i'm sorry but i only did the main three <3

―― IZUKU made sure to greet you with a kiss each time you meet each other, he may be a bit hesitant in public (― he doesn't want to overstep boundaries) but he never does so when you're alone / in private. as usual, he kisses you when you open your door for him to come inside. “i bought you some―” he stops speaking when he notices you brush your hand over your lips, tilting his head as he asks, “what's wrong?” you shake your head and take the bag he was holding, dropping it onto a chair as you sink into your bed, “it's nothing, why?”

he pouts while he wracks his brain for a reason as to why you basically wiped away his kiss, he blurts, “you wiped away my kiss!” you disagree at once, “no i didn't!” “...okay,” he muses after a long silence, wondering if he just hallucinated that or if you were lying and you actually did wipe away his kiss. he sits on the edge of the bed and leans over to kiss you again, frowning and mumbling incoherent words when you wipe away his kiss, again. “see! you did it again!”

he leans over again and presses kisses all over your face, “stop wiping away my kisses!” he whines in between, giggling. pulling away, he watches dumbfounded as you literally wipe your hand over you face. you catch his eye and laugh at his expression, “it's just a prank 'zuku!” he crosses his arms over his chest like a toddler who didn't get what he wanted, and huffs, “you're so mean sometimes.” but he still leans in to kiss you again.

―― SHOTO is the most confused out of all, he doesn't get it, even after you tell him it's a prank he's just confused as to what you get out of wiping away his kisses. while you were seated on the couch, watching something random on tv, he goes to press a quick kiss on your lips with a small smile. he all but frowns when you wipe it away just as fast as he had given it. “love? why'd you wipe away my kiss?” he asks with a curious tint in his eyes.

“oh, sorry,” you apologize, “your lips are dry.” nodding, he stands up and goes to the corner of the room leaving you looking at his back in confusion. he rummages in a drawer and pulls out a chapstick and you have to keep a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from laughing at his actions.

after he comes back and sits in the place he was before, he points at his lips, “it's probably fine now,” he tells you, leaning in.

when he pulls away, he frowns again when he sees you wipe your mouth, again! “do i need more chapstick?” he asks innocently, with a tilt of his head.

“no! it's fine now,” you say.

“then why did you wipe it off again?” he questions, this time a little more impatient than he was before.

“it's just a prank!” you exclaim, full on laughing when he stares at you before he shakes his head.

―― BAKUGOU always greets you with a kiss on the cheek when he comes to your dorm to hang out, so when you rubbed your hand against your cheek― the exact spot he kissed, he quirks an eyebrow, shaking his head and choosing to ignore that. “hey idiot,” he mumbles, closing the door behind him and taking off his shoes by the doorway.

he walked over to the bed and sat down like it was his own, patting the space beside him, rolling his eyes. it doesn't take long for him to try and kiss you again, only to squint at you like a grandpa without his glasses when you wipe it off once more.

he continues to pretend he doesn't notice but the third time you do it, he's so annoyed. “okay, what the hell?”

“what?” you reply 'innocently'.

“why the hell do you keep wiping away my kisses?”

“i don't?” you pretend to be confused. he scoffs in annoyance, before pulling you flush against his chest and glaring at you. he leans down and captures your lips in a kiss, pulling away after a few seconds and staring intently at you, waiting for your next move.

he sees no signs of you going to wipe it away, and so, lets his grip around you fall and goes back to scrolling through his phone. he's still watching you with the corner of his eye, and he feels his hands spark with small explosions when you wipe it off again.

thanks for reading! likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[rhysismydaddy]

Prisoner's Game Pt. 1 (Rowaelin)

Synopsis: Aelin Galathynius never thought of herself as a vengeful woman. Until her boyfriend not only testifies, but leads a case against her that lands her in prison for the rest of her life. Post I-Love-You's. He didn't believe her, and she's about to show him that not only is she innocent, he made the worst mistake of his life betting against her. To a woman with nothing but time, life's just a game, after all.

The cinderblock wall dug into her back uncomfortably as she reclined against it, the air in the room was stale, and she hadn't showered in two days. By any measurement, Aelin Galathynius was far from her best.

And yet she somehow managed to look perfectly at ease--happy even--as she lounged in her cell, toying with the ends of her too-long hair.

It was a ruse, of course, just a little trick to piss off the man currently stomping into her space. By the flare of Rowan Whitehorn's eyes, it worked.

"Hello, Rowan," she greeted pleasantly, giving him a little smile and acting like it wasn't taking everything in her not to use the makeshift knife under her pillow to gut him like the spineless coward he was.

She could tell, even across her 8x12 cell, that he was gritting his teeth and fighting a similar action.

The heel of his expensive Italian loafers clicked as he walked across the space to the small table and took a seat at the steel chair in front of it. He tried to push it out further, but stopped when he realized it was bolted to the floor.

"Aelin," he said back, none of the so-obvious anger he was feeling present in his voice. "Been a long time."

Eight years, six months, three weeks, two days, and thirteen hours.

Not that she was counting or anything.

She nodded her agreement, reclining further on the bed and crossing her legs as if she was in the finest dress she owned, not a faded orange jumpsuit.

"What brings you to my side of town, Rowan? Here to finally switch sides and represent me?"

Dressed in a two-thousand dollar suit and tie, hair perfectly gelled back, he looked like he was successful a lawyer meeting with a wealthy client, but they both knew the last thing he'd ever do was work for her.

"You know why I'm here."

She did indeed, but she still said, "I must be exceptionally smart to know why you've come all the way here-"

"Cut the shit," he snapped, finally losing a bit of his cool. He regained it quickly, though, and continued, "I want to know how you did it."

She frowned at her split ends. "Did what?"

Rowan waited until she looked at him to respond. "You know what."

Sighing so deeply it should've rattled the walls, she said, "I can't believe I've spent the last eight years thinking you underestimated my intelligence. You clearly think I'm some sort of oracle genius."

Rowan mimicked her sigh, and she bit her lip to stifle a laugh.

Probably trying to stall, he spent a moment looking at her cell, at the completely bare walls and lack of photographs. All she had was the tally marks drawn in pencil on one wall and a dusty chess set sitting on the table.

When he'd taken inventory of those two things, he sat and just looked at her.

It was clear she wouldn't admit to knowing exactly why he sat in front of her, and he was simply putting off being the one to fold.

Predictable, proud little man.

Eventually, he took his loss and said, "I want to know how you managed to rob me from inside the most secure prison in Rifthold."

She smiled, a full, undulated smile she hadn't used in a long time.

She'd been planning this moment since the day the bars had locked behind her, and it felt damn good to finally see it come to fruition.

According to what she'd heard, definitely not what she knew from personal experience, the private vault in Rowan's apartment had been broken into. Apparently, only one thing was missing: an antique dagger that had been handed down in the family and was now worth over a million bucks.

"Why do you think it was me?" she asked, still smiling.

He gritted his teeth some more, and she internally snickered at the idea he'd have permanent tooth damage because of her. Something else to remember her by.

Green eyes spitting flames at her, he growled, "You left a goddamn business card."

Aelin forced her eyes up to the empty bed above her head, trying her hardest not to laugh. "Maybe I'm being framed?"

"Your fingerprints were on it."

She did laugh then, then laughed some more when his eyes narrowed. He looked like he was about to strangle her. "Rowan, in case you haven't noticed, I'm incarcerated."

She gestured around them to her cell to prove her point.

The bastard just smiled.

Of course he knows that, she thought bitterly, forcing her hand back to her lap and away from where it'd started to creep toward the pillow.

"So how would I rob you?" she asked, getting her mind back on track.

"That's what you're going to tell me," he demanded angrily. "I want to know how you got out of here, got all the way across Rifthold, broke into my apartment, and stole from me without any surveillance camera picking it up."

Aelin ran a hand through her hair, fluffing it just right. When she caught sight of the impatience on his face, she fluffed it some more and readjusted the thin jacket on her shoulders.

It was always too damn cold in this place. She hadn't been warm in almost nine years.

Because of him.

Just for that, she fluffed her hair some more.

Then she said simply, "I didn't."

"Stop lying!" he shouted at her, eyes flashing.

She wasn't, but that was besides the point.

"Fine." She rolled her eyes like he'd won. "I got my cousin to-"

"Aedion spent the night in Wendlyn. His travel is verified, and there are at least a hundred eye witnesses that witnessed him singing karaoke all night. Stop. Fucking. Lying."

Once again, she wasn't lying.

Aedion sure as hell hadn't been in Wendlyn last night. She'd just wanted to make sure his alibi was air-tight as planned.

Sighing again, she asked, "Rowan, even if I did do it, why the hell would I tell you about it?"

His jaw worked for a moment, and she could tell whatever he was about to say was difficult for him. "I'll get time off your sentence if you tell me what you've done with it."

She tried not to laugh, but she couldn't help it.

It burst out of her, full and uncontrollable, and she flopped over on the dirty mattress and howled for a good few minutes.

He glared at her, looking for all the world like he was experiencing a portion of the rage she was made of, but regardless of the threat in his eyes, she took her time composing herself.

"I'm serving ten consecutive life sentences, you idiot."

One for each and every one of her "victims."

"I'll make it nine," he offered generously.

"Even if I was a cat, that'd still leave me dying in a prison cell. Offer me something else."

He just glared at her, unwilling to give her anything she could actually use or want. Just like she'd expected.

"That's what I thought. So no, Rowan Whitehorn, I'm not accepting your little deal. You can think I robbed you all you want; hell, you can even know, in your famous gut, that I did it." She tilted her head, a cruel smile filling her lips. "But it isn't about what you believe, it's about what you can prove. Isn't that right?"

His eyes shuttered at the words, and just like that, they were sucked into the memory of all those years ago.

~Eight years ago~

~Rowan~

Rowan rolled over, edging away from the woman next to him carefully as to not wake her.

Her hair was spread out on his chest, her soft hand was on his stomach, and her leg was draped over his. By all accounts, she was all over him.

And it felt so fucking good.

He'd never met anyone like Aelin before. Anyone so full of life, so hilariously open.

It was like she was constantly on fire, flitting from one place to the next with endless energy and jabs about him being too old and slow.

"What are you going?" she murmured, nails digging in slightly to keep him where he was.

"To get some water. Go back to sleep."

He leaned down and kissed her brow, and she sighed happily and rolled over. Like a total cliché, he watched her sleep for a moment, trying to get his feelings under control.

They'd been seeing each other for less than a year, but he couldn't imagine his life without her. He was in love with her, and if the way she acted and smiled around him was any indication, she loved him, too.

He ran a thumb over her cheekbone, smiling when she tilted her face into his touch.

He was whipped, and he didn't even care.

Rowan shook his head at himself, pulled on a pair of boxers, padded to the kitchen, and held a glass under the faucet.

Then frowned as it sputtered.

He figured he'd at least make himself useful, knowing damn well she would never agree to call the plumber when she could "figure out how to fix it herself on Youtube."

So he knelt down in her kitchen and opened the cabinet door, trying to see what the problem with the pipe was.

Except he never got that far.

His eyes got stuck on the piece of paper sticking out under a false piece of wood covering the back panel.

Knowing it was wrong to pry but somehow unable to stop himself, he tugged the paper loose.

Then fell backwards to his ass, heart hammering and brain spinning as he read it over and over again.

The list of names wasn't long, but all ten of the people on it were highly distinguished members of society.

And they were all dead.

He wouldn't know that, since the death of the last person on the list wasn't even public record yet, but he was the attorney working with the police to find the killer.

Why did she have this list?

And what did the numbers next to the names mean?

One way or another, he knew he had to find out. He also knew he couldn't ask her. He was in too deep, too unbiased to know whether or not she was lying.

He didn't trust himself with her, so he'd have to go the traditional route.

He took a picture of the paper quickly, tucking it back where he'd found it. He snuck back in the room to get dressed, leaving her a note he had to go to work.

He thought he was going to be sick as he left her apartment, a feeling suspiciously similar to dread coiling in his stomach.

There was only one way she could know that last name, only one explanation that made sense.

But he had to know for sure. Had to know if he'd been an idiot this past year; an idiot who'd spent almost every night sleeping next to the killer he'd been searching for.

So he started investigating his girlfriend.

Six days later, he found the security deposit boxes and the murder weapons inside, still covered in dried blood that would be matched to the victims. All with Aelin's prints on them.

Two days after that, the woman he'd thought was the love of his life was arrested on ten counts of murder.

Despite the tears she shed, despite the promises she made to him, despite the love she claimed to have for him, Rowan told the cops everything.

Even though he couldn't imagine her killing anyone.

"It doesn't matter what I believe, it matters what I can prove."

That was the last thing he'd said to her, right as she was being dragged out of the court room and yelling at him to believe her.

The truth of the matter was that when it came down to it, he didn't trust her enough. The facts were against her, everyone on the jury had been against her, and in the end, Rowan was too.

~Present~

~Aelin~

Rowan shook his head, almost like he needed to clear it from the memory they'd obviously both been immersed in, and she smiled.

She hoped what happened all those years ago still haunted him, hoped he went to sleep at night thinking about her and the betrayal he'd served to her on a silver platter.

The first year of her sentence, she was so lost in emotion--in the rage and confusion and deep, deep hurt--that she couldn't bring herself to do anything.

He hadn't even bothered to ask her first. That's what had hurt the worst.

He'd seen that stupid, stupid list and had jumped to the first conclusion possible.

She knew it had looked bad, had looked like she was guilty, but she'd thought that if the worst happened, he'd at least ask her to explain before slapping the cuffs on her.

But he hadn't. She'd gone to prison, and his career had exploded into stardom from the success of the case.

"See, Rowan, when you refused to accept any other explanation other than the easy one, you made a mistake. Because I didn't kill those people."

He rolled his eyes. "Aelin-"

"And I'm not only going to prove it," she continued as if he hadn't spoken, "I'm going to ruin your precious little life while I do it. Just like you did mine."

She stood, put a hand on the steel table, and leaned over him.

"If you want it to stop, all you have to do is drop these bullshit murder charges and issue a public apology for locking me up in the first place."

He stood too, so close his loafers brushed the toe of her dusty, prison issued sneakers.

"That's never going to happen," he promised, voice uncompromising and angry.

Aelin smiled, having predicted his reaction down to the facial expression.

His pride, she'd decided, would be the first thing to go.

She reached around him to slide the pawn on the chess board forward, leaned in even further, and whispered, "Let the game begin, then."

~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2

@perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @live-the-fangirl-life @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @gracie-rosee @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @inardour @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Northern Exposure | Bucky // End

❄ PART 4 OF THE MINI-SERIES ❄

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Warnings: non consent sex and rape (series); violence, creepiness on part of our boys, predatory behaviour, Bucky’s an asshole, they’re all too lonely and too desperate, mistaken identity, spanking, binding, death, mentions of brainwashing.

This is dark! fic and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Pairings: Sam Wilson x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, A Bad Time x Reader

Series Synopsis: You’re a nature photographer stationed up north but the arctic isolation comes to an unexpected and unpleasant end.

Note: I'm gonna be away dealing with lots of personal issues but will see yall when I get back and look forward to it.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You were dazed as Steve pulled the tee shirt back over your head. He sat you in the same chair he made you fuck him on and you stared at your palms as he moved around. Your body didn’t feel like yours. You bent and unbent your fingers as you tried to feel anything but the buzzing rawness in your core. A plate clinked loudly on the table and you raised your head.

Steve pulled up a chair around the side of the table, his knee almost against yours as he sat, “you have to eat.”

You blinked at the dry looking chicken breast on yellow rice with overcooked corn and peas. He took the fork and you reached for it and he quickly batted down your hand.

Confused, you parted your lips and he cut into the chicken. He scooped up a forkful and held it out to you carefully, his hand cupped under it to catch any spills.

“It’s hot, blow on it,” he said.

You felt hollow and your brain could only think of the food as the scent made your stomach clench hungrily. You blew carefully on the fork and let him slide it into your mouth. He repeated it, again and again. Each bite was easier and despite the odd texture of the food, you didn’t mind the taste.

When the plate was cleared, he set down the fork and unfolded the paper napkin. He wiped your mouth, his finger tickled your bottom lip and he hummed. He handed you the bottle of water and leaned back as he watched you drink.

“You gotta keep your energy up,” he said, “it’s our fault. We’ve neglected you.”

You put the bottle down and shrunk in on yourself. It was all fucked. The more you sat there across from this man, the more your chest felt as if it would collapse. You lowered your head again and traced the line of your palm with your thumb.

“You need to sleep, I know Sam didn’t let you do much of that,” he said, “admittedly, I was selfishly impatient,” he stood and you watched him cross the room. He took the throw from over the back of the couch and looked over his shoulder at you, “come on. You should at least try.”

You didn’t move. You hung your head and swayed slightly. Everything around you was blurry, the air felt fuzzy, and your skin pricked with terror.

“Sweetheart--”

“Don’t call me that,” you hissed, “I’m not… not that. What you’re doing--”

“Over here right now,” his tone was stern and unyielding, “don’t make me repeat myself.”

You clenched your jaw and glanced over at him. His hand was on his hip as his eyes bore into you and the vein in his forehead made you flinch. There was a tenuous wire wound tight between his good side and his bad side.

You rose and ambled over to him clumsily. Your thighs rubbed together painfully and the effort made your pelvis ache. He grabbed your shoulder and guided you down onto the couch. He threw the blanket over you and tucked in the sides, his hands crawled over it and he felt your curves through the warm layer.

“Oh…” he retracted his hand and stood straight as he poked his tongue out and watched you, “I…” 

You turned onto your side and tried to ignore him. Sleep might be your only escape from that hell.

“Are you…” he hesitated, “I came in you. Are you on… something?”

You sniffed and rolled so that your back was to him. You whimpered as your thigh hit each other and pulled the blanket to your chin. You wanted to vomit up all the food he’d just fed you.

“I need to know,” he touched your shoulder, “if you’re not--”

“I have an implant…” you mumbled.

“Implant?” he repeated.

You stared at the back of the couch. Was he really that stupid?

“They put it in your arm. It’s good for a couple years,” you shrugged, “don’t worry, you’ll only be hurting me.”

You heard him swallow. He was quiet and his footsteps trailed softly away from you.

“I’m taking care of you,” he said, “you’re lucky I am because Sam doesn’t give a shit and Bucky would sooner throw you out in the snow.”

You didn’t answer. You covered your head with the blanket and closed your eyes. You were so exhausted, so sore, so worn out that you could only think of sleep. You wanted to forget about the man behind you and the two others wandering out on the tundra. You wanted to pretend for the little time you could that everything was normal.

❄

The door woke you and sent you back into a spin. You huddled under the blanket and nestled further into the cushions as the boots clomped and a heavy dragging scratched the floor. You focused on keeping even breaths as the lock buzzed back into place.

“This was at her door,” a knock on wood followed Bucky’s voice and you could guess that your weakly crate of groceries had arrived, “it’s gonna be a while before anyone knows she’s gone.”

“Shh,” Sam hushed.

“She’s awake,” Bucky spat back, “I can hear her heart going.”

You cringed and slowly sat up. You looked over at the men as Steve helped Bucky pull the lid off the crate. Sam smiled at you and unzipped his jacket, “how are you doing, baby?”

“Fine,” you murmured and pushed yourself into the corner of the couch and folded yourself up beneath the blanket.

“Real milk,” Bucky declared as he pulled out the carton, “and bread.”

“Who brings all this?” Steve asked as Sam unlaced his boots, watching you as he impatiently undressed.

“The depot,” you answered.

“The depot? And they know you’re up here?”

“They get my money and they bring up what I order,” you grumbled, “I doubt they care as long as they’re paid.”

Steve nodded and shared a look with Bucky. Sam rounded the couch and sat beside you, he played with the edge of the blanket as you kept as far from him as you could. The other two kept sorting through the haul.

“Go back tomorrow, get the radio,” Steve said, “and we’ll have her place another order.”

Bucky looked at him quizzically then continued reading the side of a can of chili, “and why should I do that?”

“We’ll have her check in with her boss, tell them she’s safe,” Steve said, “she is, really.”

“No,” you said, “I won’t, I’ll--”

The can barely missed you and bounced off the wall. You looked behind you and eyed the dent as you pushed yourself up on the arm and the blanket fell away from you. You shook as you faced Bucky.

“You can’t trust her,” he said as he turned back to Steve, “you both know that and now you want to give her a radio--”

“Baby,” Sam grabbed your ankle and drew you back down onto the cushion. His arm snaked around you and he caressed your cheek as he held you to him, “it’s okay.” He tensed and peered over his shoulder, “do it again, jackass, and it’ll be thrown right back at you.”

A low growl followed and then the rustle of the groceries. A silence pervaded the bunker and made you shiver. Sam lifted the blanket over you again and held you tighter. He rocked you as he placed your head on his chest.

“You just gonna let her sit around on the couch all day? Lay on her back all night as we’re out there--”

“She’ll cook,” Steve asserted, “won’t you, sweetheart?”

You didn’t respond as you listened to Sam’s heartbeat and inhaled his scent. His touch made your skin crawl but his strength made you stay.

“I can take care of myself,” Bucky insisted.

“What the fuck is your problem, man?” Sam snarled.

“You know what the problem is,” Bucky retorted, “you fuckin’ know.”

“Buck,” Steve warned.

“He gave me bad intel,” Bucky’s boots hammered towards you, “just so he could have his little plaything.”

Sam slid you away from him and stood to stand chest to chest with his fellow agent. You gaped up at them as Steve came close and put his hands on their shoulders.

“Enough,” Steve warned.

“No, I could have killed her because this asshole lied, I could--”

“And you offered to kill her anyway,” Sam pushed Bucky, “so what the fuck’s the problem?”

“This is a mission, not a vacation,” Bucky sneered, “Hydra is still out there, Ursa is probably laughing at us right now--”

“It’s about the mission?” Sam challenged, “really? You didn’t care three days ago when you tried to run back Stateside.”

“Shut up,” Bucky snapped.

“You shut up, man,” they shoved each other at the same time and Steve got between them.

“Hey, both of you,” he pointed at them and looked from one to the other, “stop. Right now.”

Bucky roiled and Sam glared back at them as the other man barely kept them apart. One wrong move and it would be a full blown fight.

“You know what will happen, Steve,” Bucky’s voice cracked, “you know I can’t control it.”

“Only if you keep holding back,” Steve lowered his voice and waved off Sam, “she’s good, she’s obedient.”

“She’s scared,” Bucky said, “and that means she’s unpredictable.”

“Then help us, help us train her,” Steve said.

“No, I can’t,” Bucky shook his head, “not-- last time--”

“We’re here now, we won’t let it happen again,” Steve coaxed as Sam retreated, “but you keep doing this and it will.”

You stood slowly as Sam went to the crate and reached in. He took out a chocolate bar and smiled. You crept along the wall and a floor board gave away your movement. All three men looked over at you.

“I… need the bathroom,” you breathed.

Steve nodded and waved you on. He turned back to Bucky and grabbed his arm. He lowered his voice as the latter’s blue eyes peeked over at you. You couldn’t hear what he was saying but the way Bucky stared made you tremble. You scurried away and hid inside the bathroom.

You inhaled as your nerves bounced off each other. You listened through the door and your blood chilled.

“It’s different,” Bucky said, “if it was Ursa, she’d deserve it.”

“You won’t hurt her, that’s not you,” Steve argued, “she’s a good girl.”

“He doesn’t care,” Bucky gritted, “he doesn’t listen.”

“Bucky…” Steve sighed, “there’s no him, only you.”

“I can’t,” Bucky said, “not yet.”

❄

Two more days, you thought it was only two. They passed slowly but in a blur. Your time was marked by the little chores given to you by Steve; you cooked the meals, blending your farmer’s haul and their military dry freeze rations and you tidied up to keep yourself busy and try to evade them. It didn’t matter, your work could wait until they had their pleasure.

A routine was put in place. You ate with the men and when they left in the morning, you slept until the afternoon, then you got up and cleaned and cooked. When they returned, you ate again and after supper, Sam or Steve took you into the bedroom. By the time the others retired, you were settled under the arm of your respective tormenter.

The fourth morning was particularly chilly. Sam and Steve woke up early and whispered in the dark. That night, you’d been trapped against Steve’s hot body but despite that, Sam bent to kiss your cheek. Steve placed a folded shirt in the empty spot beside you.

“You can wear that today,” he kept his voice low as the other super soldier continued snoring, “me and Sam have to go out on the ice. We’ll be back late.”

You nodded and looked past him to Bucky’s sleeping form, a lump in the dark.

“He has his own work but it’s early still,” Steve assured you, “he doesn’t like the water but we need two men.” Steve bent and rubbed your cheek, “just keep your head down and he’ll be gone before you know it.”

You were quiet as they left. You heard them readying in the other room and the heavy front door of the bunker signalled their departure.

You laid in the dark and thought of the third man. You could still recall that ominous conversation and the fire in his eyes every time he looked at you. You quivered as you thought of how he avoided you, stalking along your peripheral like a predator. Salivating but hesitant.

You couldn’t figure out what it all meant. You only knew that it couldn’t be good. Whatever scared Bucky about himself terrified you even more. Sam and Steve even seemed reluctant to push him too far, as if afraid they would trigger something uncontrollable and that fed your fear further.

You didn’t want to be there when he woke up. You sat up and pulled on the long sleeved tee. You crossed your arms and stood, keeping your head down as you stepped between the bed. A sudden movement in the dark made you flinch and you realised the snoring had stopped. Bucky caught your wrist before you could get to the end of the bed.

You spun back to him as he sat up and clung to your arm. You stared at him through the black as his metal grip squeezed tighter. You shook and tried to pull away.

“They’re going to keep you,” he said quietly, “nothing I can do about that.”

“Please, let me--”

“I don’t want to kill you,” he continued, “I only said it because I hoped it would keep it from happening. That they might leave you there so I wouldn’t.”

“What--”

“I can’t help it,” he pulled you until your knee hit the mattress, “I try not to go that far but--” He yanked until you fell forward across his legs, “he wants you.”

“Bucky--”

“Not me,” he held your hip as his other hand rubbed your ass, “the soldat.”

He lifted his hand and struck your ass. You cried out and fought as you tried to push yourself up. He grabbed the back of your neck and wrenched you up, getting to his knees as he turned and forced you flat across the bed.

“They never let them live,” he whispered as he straddled you, “they made me kill them but if I didn’t fuck them, they couldn’t control me… him.”

“I don’t know what--”

“Maybe… maybe I can try…” his lips brushed your own as he bent over you, “I hear you with them and I want to try.”

“Bucky,” you touched his metal hand as it stretched along your throat, “please, you can let me go-- you can--”

He squeezed until your voice turned to a wisp and you rasped loudly as you tried to breathe.

“They’ll find you even if I do,” he said, “or make me find you.”

“Pl--” you coughed and grasped his fingers as your eyes watered.

He pushed off of you suddenly and you gasped for air. He grabbed your ankles and you yelped as he dragged you off the bed. Your back hit the floor and knocked the wind out of you. You sputtered as he pulled you through the door. The light of the front room shone in halos in your vision and he stopped in front of the low table before the couch.

He let you go and jabbed you with his toe, “don’t move.”

He retreated and you rolled onto your side. You sat up and glanced at the door. He opened a drawer and you stood shakily. He was going to kill you, he said so himself. You didn’t think about it long as you raced to the door and tried to twist the handle. The pin pad beeped and you tried to force it. You grunted as you heard him behind you.

The beeping grew louder and kept on. The alarm made your ears ring as he hauled you back. He forced you onto the coffee table, flat on your stomach as he tore your wrists down to the legs of the table. He wound a zip tie around each and moved back. You kicked out and he caught your ankles, bending your legs around the side of the table to bind them too.

You straddled the table, your chest heavy against the wood as he moved to disarm the alarm. His tee shirt fluttered to the floor as he tossed it in front of you. He chuckled darkly and paced around you as he toyed with the elastic of his sweats.

“This is what Hydra did, they tied the women down, had a special device for it,” he reached and tickled your spine, “but this will do.”

“Please, why--”

“They did what they could… the doctors in Wakanda. They tried to get it all out but… there’s things you can’t shake,” he slapped your ass and the whole table jolted, “those things are often what you need most.”

He spanked you again and your skin burned from his vibranium palm. You whined and let your head hang over the edge of the table.

“Please, it’s not too late, Bucky,” you begged, “you don’t want this--”

“I can’t be like them,” he interrupted, “I can’t be nice.”

“Please--”

“I’m going to break your jaw if you don’t shut up,” he smacked your ass and rounded the table again, “you can’t blame me, they wanted you.”

You gulped up air and shook your head. You heard the rustle of fabric and he kicked away his sweats. He went to the foot of the table and bent to grip it one either side of you. He sat on the wood between your legs and kneaded your thighs.

“They think you can fix me,” he rubbed your ass and slapped it with both hands, “but they don’t know.”

He gripped your hips and lifted himself. He held himself up with one hand on the table and felt along your ass as he bent his legs over yours. The table felt brittle beneath his weight. He pushed down your folds with his fingers and shoved two inside of you. He pulled in and out until your body slickened for him.

He tutted and dragged out of you and up to your ass. He spread your wetness around your tight ring and hummed.

“They haven’t touched this, have they?” he taunted and poked his finger against your hole.

You clenched your teeth as he pushed inside and you whimpered as he reached his knuckle. Even as little as that hurt and your body quaked from the intrusion. He pulled out as pressed two fingers to your ring. He forced them both inside and fingered your ass slowly as you groaned in agony.

“This will be just for me,” he rasped, “they can have your cunt.”

You pulled on your wrists until the plastic cut into your skin. His hand sped up and you tensed around his fingers. He groped your ass with his other and hummed.

“You’ll only make it worse,” he said, “not that it really matters to me.”

“You said-- you didn’t-- want-- to-- do this--” you puffed through the pain.

“I never said I didn’t want to fuck you,” he snickered.

“It hurts… Bucky--”

“I told you,” he pushed deep until his knuckles met your ass, “shut up.”

You swallowed your voice and he moved free hand up under your arm and leaned over your. He slid his fingers out of your ass and guided his tip along your tight ring. He held his breath as he pushed inside of you just a little and you exclaimed. He stretched you painfully as his metal fingers framed his dick as he eased further in.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “oh fuck,” inch by inch, the pain intensified and when he was his limit, you were sobbing.

His hand grazed your shoulder and he gripped your throat as he pressed his body flush to yours, his legs bent beside your ass. He rocked atop you as his other hand came up to meet his other. He encircled your neck and squeezed as he kept his hips moving.

He purred and his hot breath tickled your scalp. Through all the pain, you felt a plucking, deeper than anything before. You coughed as his fingers twined and he choked you harder. He sat up and pulled your head up as he kept his hands around your throat. He arched your back painfully as your arms strained against the ties.

He jerked his hips roughly. All patience was gone as he tilted into you rampantly and panted hungrily. Your eyes rolled back and your tongue lolled out as you wheezed, barely breathing as his fingers got firmer and firmer.

“This is it, doll,” he snarled, “this is how it ends… every time.”

He pounded into you and tremors of agony rolled through your body. Your eyes closed as your mouth grew arid and bitter. Your head throbbed as he sped up, flesh clapping so loudly it was all you could hear. Your body spasmed as you felt the strength leaving you, as the air drained entirely from your lungs, and sand filled your limbs.

Your head sagged over his hands and you bit your tongue without feeling it. Your body spasmed as he didn’t let up. You surrendered to the darkness as it closed it and promised to dull the torture, to end it all. Your body went limp over the table and the heat of his flesh and the roughness of the wood faded away.

You sank into the endless abyss and welcomed its embrace. It was over, all over. You were free.

[tetsvya]

❛ pumpkin guts war! ❜

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷  nothing ever seems to go smoothly when you’re surrounded by your favorite group of people, so why would you think pumpkin carving would be any different?

➼ pairing! karasuno vbc x manager!reader, a little ennoshita bias bc i adore him <3

➼ warnings! none

➼ type! fluff, reader is in their second year, takes place in october 

➼ author’s note! hi! this is my first time posting on tumblr and first time writing for hq so i hope this goes okay. i apologize beforehand if there are any mistakes or the characters are ooc, i'm trying to get the hang of them. anyways, this is a halloween inspired fic and i'm hoping to post some about some of the other schools as well! i'll probably link them at the end of this post if i can! anyways, happy halloween, stay safe, and enjoy this little treat! <3

It was very rare that the Volleyball Club had a day off, and it was even rarer when one of those days were dedicated to a team bonding activity. But it had been a rather long time since you guys had last had one, so with a little planning from you, Kiyoko, and Yachi, it was decided that the VBC would spend a few hours together, and instead of tossing a ball back and forth, it'd be spent carving pumpkins. That's how you found yourself where you are now, sitting on a tarp in one of the school's empty soccer fields, Ennoshita to the right of you and Tanaka to the left of you, Noya besides him, Narita across from you, and Kinoshita besides him. The third and first years were in similar circles on their own tarps a few feet away from you guys.

"Noya-San, what are you carving?" Hinata called from where he sat beside Kageyama, eyes only for the hyperactive second year. Noya shrugged nonchalantly, a cocky smirk turning up the corners of his lips as he cradled his pumpkin to his chest.

"It's a surprise, obviously!"

"Oh!" Hinata's eyes lit up at the prospect and, he too, pulled his own pumpkin tight against his chest as to shield it from anyone's searching eyes, "Mine will be one too, then!"

"Idiot!" Kageyama called from his spot beside Hinata, narrowing his eyes at the boy, "You're probably carving a volleyball!"

Hinata's cheeks grew red at Kageyama's words but that didn't stop the shorter boy from scowling at him, "Am not!"

The two began to bicker back and forth and you turned your attention away from them with a smile, averting your attention back to your own pumpkin that rested in your lap.

"He was so going to carve a volleyball" Ennoshita leaned in to whisper to you. You turned to him, laughing with a nod, and Ennoshita couldn't help but join in.

"What about you, Ennoshita?" You asked, leaning closer to peer at his pumpkin. While he hadn't got to actually carving the pumpkin yet, he had sketched a face onto the surface of it. A smile broke out on your face at the cute design, and you looked up to meet his eyes, "It's cute, Chika-Chan!"

Ennoshita felt his cheeks warm up at the sight of your bright smile, but he brushed it off with a laugh, leaning into you to peer over your shoulder. You moved quickly, though, jerking your pumpkin out of his sight before he could take a glance at it. Ennoshita's eyebrows shot up at your sudden movements, "What? I can't see your pumpkin?"

You shook your head, clutching it tighter to you when he tried to take another glance, "No! You have to wait until it's done!"

"Fine" The boy sighed, rolling his eyes at you as he leaned back, picking up a carving knife as he got to work on carving out the face of his pumpkin. You watched him for a moment longer, before glancing back at your own pumpkin. You picked up a marker, popping off the cap before bringing it up to your pumpkin. Unbeknownst to you, Ennoshita glanced at you from the corner of his eyes, smiling to himself when he saw the concentrated look on your face. Your eyebrows were knitted together in concentration, and the tip of your tongue was poking out between your lips. The boy felt a nudge against his shoulder, and he glanced at Kinoshita who was sitting beside him. His fellow second-year winked at him with a knowing smile. Ennoshita rolled his eyes, but he couldn't stop the blush from blossoming on his cheeks. Kinoshita let it go, turning back to his pumpkin with a smug smile. The next few moments were relatively calm. The low chatter coming from the others and your quiet hum that only the second years surrounding you could hear. The boys finished far before you, and the only time you looked up from your pumpkin was so you could look at their finished products. You complimented each and every one, and they all accepted your praise with a proud smile. They, in return, waited rather impatiently for you to finish your own carving.

"Done!" You called out finally, a bright smile on your face as you turned around your pumpkin to show the waiting second years.

"Wow!" Narita spoke first, eyes twinkling as he looked at your pumpkin, "It's really good!"

"Thanks!" You beamed as the others nodded along to their friend's words.

"Yeah, it looks gr—" Noya was cut short as Hinata and Kageyama's bickering grew louder and louder. Your eyes were instantly drawn to where all the first years sat, raising an eyebrow as you wondered just what they were fighting about now. The two continued to argue back and forth, and Tsukki regarded them with a bored stare as Yamaguchi stifled his laughs behind his hand. Yachi could only stare at the two hopelessly. You couldn't quite make out their words, but you figured Kageyama said something that really ticked off Hinata, if the orange-haired boy's next action was any indication.

It was as if time slowed down as Hinata reached down, scooping up some of the pumpkin guts that he had tossed into a bowl earlier. He pulled his hand back, and before you could even try and tell him not to, he flung his hand forward, the mess of orange pulp and pumpkin seeds flying through the air, heading straight for Kageyama. The setter had the foresight to duck down, however. You let out a breath of relief, tense shoulders dropping forward. However, that relief was short-lived when you realized just where the glop of pumpkin guts was heading now.

Daichi's laugh was cut short as the glob of pumpkin insides landed right on his head. He blinked once, twice, three times. Everyone seemingly held their breath, eyes wide as they stared at their captain. Daichi opened his mouth to say something, but promptly shut it when he felt the glop slowly began to droop down his head, inching lower and lower until it finally slipped off his head and landed in his lap with a quiet splat.

You could practically see the anger grow in Daichi's eyes and you made a mental promise to Hinata that you'd stop Noya from photoshopping him into some of those fake clouds because you were sure if Daichi didn't kill the boy himself, Hinata would die of utter fear and embarrassment. May he rest in peace.

When Daichi opened his mouth once more, you had half the mind to shut your eyes and cower away, not really wanting to see the captain's angry outburst, but before he could even utter a word, a boisterous and hysterical laugh broke through the tense atmosphere. Everyone's eyes were drawn to the source of the sound, and when you peered over Ennoshita's shoulder, your eyes landed on Suga. He was clutching his stomach, head thrown back as he laughed and laughed and laughed. You couldn't help but feel your lips twitch up at the sight, and Daichi turned to his best friend with narrowed eyes. He reached out, scooping up the pumpkin pulp that sat in his lap before launching it at the grey-haired boy. Suga's laugh was effectively cut short as the pumpkin guts hit him right in the nose. His mouth dropped open in shock before, he too, flung it right back at Daichi. Some of it hit the captain's shoulder, but the majority of it splattered against Asahi's chest. That was when all hell broke loose.

"Pumpkin guts war!" Noya rose to his feet, pumping his fist into the air before throwing the goop that he held in his other hand straight at Tanaka. The short-haired male gasped, narrowing his eyes at his chaotic counterpart before throwing an even bigger glob at Noya. Noya's eyes hardened before he grabbed his bowl full of pumpkin insides, throwing its contents in Tanaka's direction. The boy ducked, however, and instead, both you and Ennoshita were hit. Tanaka and Kinoshita promptly burst into a fit of laughs, clutching their stomachs as you and Ennoshita shared a look, a mental conversation being spoken between the two of you. You both then averted your attention back to Noya, who's own laughter stopped instantly.

Noya's eyes widened under the heat of both your's and Ennoshita's angry glares. He held his hands up in surrender as he scrambled back, "Uh, wait guys! I'm sorry, I didn't m—"

The boy was cut short as you dove at him, tackling him to the ground, "Now, Chika!"

Ennoshita picked up his own bowl of pumpkin guts before jogging over to where Noya was struggling from under you, smiling devilishly before spilling its contents all over Noya. You giggled, taking Ennoshita's hand as he held it out to you. He hoisted you back up to your feet, and the two of you dashed away from the angry libero who chased after the two of you. The war between the three of you raged on for a few minutes, with Tanka and Kinoshita joining in as well until the boys were eventually drawn into a fight against the first years. You took the moment to catch your breath, laughing to yourself as Hinata was struck right in the face by Tanaka. From the corner of your eye, you noticed someone standing a few feet away from you, and they were far too clean for your liking.

"Oi, Narita!" You called out sweetly, and the boy visibly blanched, tensing up at the sound of your voice. You giggled, before lurching forward, wrapping your arms around him from behind.

"You're the worst" He groaned, accepting defeat as he stood still in your hold. He didn't have to see his back to know that he now had pumpkin all over him.

You laughed, hugging him tighter, "You love me!"

"Mhm," The boy hummed playfully, breaking out of your hold before turning around to face you. He smiled cheekily before reaching out, patting your head sweetly. However, you should have known that the gesture was anything but sweet. Your eyes widened and mouth fell agape as he broke out into laughter. The pumpkin guts that he had plopped onto the top of your head slowly began to slide down, before it eventually fell into a heap at your guys' feet. The two of you both glanced down at it before meeting one another's eyes, promptly bursting out into laughter.

"Ay!" Tanaka shouted, pointing at the two of you with a hard stare, "Get your asses over here and help us beat these losers!"

You and Narita shared a look before jogging over to the boy. The 'war' continued on for a few more minutes, the third years eventually ambushing all of you as Kiyoko stood a few feet away, not a single seed on her, as she watched with an amused smile as pumpkin flew back and forth, accompanied by joyous laughter.

"Well" A voice drawled cynically, and all movement stopped as everyone's eyes were drawn to the sound. There stood Tsukki, a sour look on his face as he scowled at all of you, arms crossed over his chest, "While I'm sure you guys had fun making complete fools of yourselves, I doubt you're going to have much fun cleaning up the mess."

His smug face soon had the entire group of you scowling at the boy, and without a second thought, you all turned your bodies to fully face the boy. The smirk was soon wiped from his face as he took notice of the mischievous looks in your guys' eyes, and he took a defensive step back, "What are you guys doing? I swear—"

"Now!" Noya shouted, cutting off the blonde. Everyone pulled their arms back before launching them forward, handfuls of pumpkin insides flying straight for the bespectacled blonde. Tsukki had no choice but to accept his fate, eyes wide as he stood frozen in place.

A beat passed before Tsukki blinked, glancing down at his clothes now covered in pumpkin guts. He blinked once more, a heavy sigh slipping past his lips before he lifted his head to meet everyone's eyes once more, "I hate you all."

"Oh, don't be such a Scrooge, Tsukki!"

"That's Christmas, you idiot!"

other halloween fics:

what’s new, scooby doo? - aoba johsai

scaredy cat - shiratorizawa

[whumperscorner]

Hello! I've just discovered your whumpy FFXV fanfics and oh my gosh I absolutely adore your writing and ideas! I love a whumpy Prompto story! I've looked over the whump bingo and I think Prompto and "Strapped to a bomb" would be a really interesting/whumpy story! Of course please don't feel pressured to write this if you don't want to and I'm so sorry if this comes across as rude. I hope you have a lovely day!

Ah thank you anon! Don’t worry it definitely doesn’t come off as rude :3 I’m really happy you’ve enjoyed my writing!

Decided to try someone kinda new with this, going with Cor’s pov for the first time, so hopefully that will still be somewhat enjoyable eheh

BTHB #6- Strapped to a Bomb

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV

Characters: Prompto Argentum, Cor Leonis, Nyx Ulric (a little bit)

Whumpee: Prompto Argentum

Word count: 2568

Warnings: none

This work can also be found on ao3 :3

Cor lets his eyes finish skimming through the document in his hand. Then he throws it onto his desk along with all the other documents he’s read through and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. It’s been a very long, very uneventful day. Glancing at his watch, Cor is relieved to find there’s now only a little over an hour until he can leave. Though of course then he has to make his way through the traffic of the streets surrounding the Citadel, which is always a nightmare at this time of day. Now with the furrow between his brows made even deeper than usual, Cor returns to the paperwork. He’s moving on to what he thinks should be the last document in the pile when heavy breathing and rushed footsteps sound through the otherwise empty corridor.

"Marshal-"

"What." Cor's voice is tinged with irritation. This better be damn important for someone to barge in right at the tail end of his workday.

"You’ve been summoned at the entrance," says the breathless recruit. "it’s something about your son."

It doesn’t even take a full second for Cor to react and be up on his feet. He grabs his jacket and phone and hurries out of the office along with the recruit. Not that it’s out of the ordinary for Prompto to come to the Citadel, whether it’s Cor he’s coming to see or Prince Noctis whenever he’s around. Normally he would just let himself in though, and that along with the frantic look on the recruit’s face - no, something has to be wrong.

"What’s the situation?" Cor asks, not bothering to look back and just assuming the recruit is following him as he strides down the hall.

"I don’t know, I was just told to get a hold of you quickly." Comes the answer from behind. Cor almost has time to get annoyed at the lack of information, but the recruit keeps going. "Glaive Ulric and Glaive Altius are there already, and when I left they'd started working to evacuate employees outside of the Glaive."

Cor curses under his breath. Evacuation of the other employees? He trusts Nyx and Crowe enough to make that call, but since they have it has to be something serious. Cor enters the elevator and taps his foot impatiently on the floor, infuriated by how slow the descent is seemingly going. His mind races through all the different possibilities for what could be going on, and how Prompto could be involved in it.

The familiar dingand the sound of elevator doors opening cannot come soon enough, and the second it does he's on the move again. It takes him almost no time at all, though still too long in Cor's mind, to make his way to the doors at the main entrance. From the vantage point there he can already see parts of what's going on. Further down the staircase are multiple glaives already at work. Cor recognises Crowe where she stands at the side, gesturing to the people around and obviously in the midst of the evacuation work. He spares a short moment to send the recruit, who is still following behind him, over in her direction with orders to assist in the evacuation work. Then he sees Nyx, standing a bit further down, and then finally he sees a familiar tuft of blond hair. Prompto is talking to Nyx. Cor can't hear what they're saying as he makes his way towards them, but he can tell from meters away that something is wrong with Prompto. It's the way he's holding himself, tense and unnaturally stiff in his movements.

When Cor is close enough, he sees Prompto’s eyes widen, and his mouth opens in a silent plea. Cor lets his own expression soften some and sends him a reassuring nod. It’s at least intended as one, but he’s not sure it helps. Prompto still looks so very scared, and it pricks Cor’s heart painfully. He's about to turn to Nyx, to demand an explanation as to what's going on, but his attention is caught by something else. Peeking through behind the half-open zipper on Prompto's hoodie is some foreign object.

"Open your hoodie Prom, let me see that." Cor says. His mouth feels too dry all of a sudden, but he keeps his voice low and calm despite it. Prompto shifts uneasily but complies. With two shaky hands he fumbles a bit with the zipper, eventually getting it up. What reveals itself is a jumbled mess of wires and various cylindrical objects in black and grey, all fastened together with tape and zip-ties, strapped around Prompto's stomach like a horrid belt. It's most definitely home made, but there's no mistaking it. Cor recognizes explosives when he sees them.

"The hell-" Cor hisses. Though he immediately regrets that and cuts himself off when Prompto shrinks in on himself as if the curse is directed at him. Worry and disbelief swirl around in Cor's stomach. He turns his head to Nyx so fast his neck nearly twists. "What's going on here?"

The look on Nyx's face mirrors Cor's own emotions, and the crease to his brows deepens as he answers in a hushed voice. "Crowe and I found him standing here just earlier, says someone put that," and he motions with his head towards the device. "on him and dropped him off here with orders to go inside. He didn't see their faces."

Now anger flares up in Cor along with all the other conflicting emotions. Someone had dared to put a godsdamn bomb on his son. Cor feels his body tense up, and his hands balling into tight fists. He wants his hands on them, to make them regret ever thinking they could touch Prompto. But that will have to wait, Cor knows it. The top priority has to be getting that thing off of Prompto safely. He bites back another curse by pressing his lips into a thin line and wills himself to loosen the fists, though the tension still lingers in them.

"Bomb squad?" He asks.

"Already called, should be here any minute." Comes Nyx's answer, and Cor nods. He'd rather they were there already, but pushes that thought aside, they'll just have to wait. He then turns his attention back to Prompto. His son's eyes are wide and fearful, darting in between Nyx and Cor. His hands clutch the ends of the hoodie hard but even then, Cor can see them trembling faintly. Now that nobody's talking anymore, he suddenly becomes aware of Prompto's breathing. How strained it is, coming in short, shallow gasps. As if he's trying not to breathe at all.

Now every part of Cor's body urges him to rush to Prompto's side. To reassure him and tell him that everything will be alright. He knows he can't do that but takes one calm step forwards regardless. "Prompto-"

"No!" Prompto gasps, jerking back a step and stumbling slightly. It catches Cor completely off guard, and he stops dead in his tracks. Lifting his hands in a placating manner.

"Wha-"

"Don't come closer, please." Prompto's voice is barely more than a whisper, but to Cor it seems he might as well have been shouting. "If- if it blows, I don't want to hurt you."

Cor feels like he's just been hit in the chest with something hard. This isn't how things are supposed to be. Prompto, his sunshine, should not have to be this scared- for himself or for Cor. Cor sucks in a sharp breath, and despite what his brain is screaming at him to do he takes a step back to where Nyx is standing. It takes considerable effort to keep his voice calm when Cor speaks up again. "Okay, okay. Prompto look at me," he urges, trying to hold his son's gaze intently with his own. "I'm going to be fine, and you're going to be fine. Do you understand?"

After another moment Prompto nods weakly, even as his eyes glaze over with unshed tears. Cor sighs, and wonders what on earth is taking the damn bomb squad so long. He's about to turn to Nyx with this same question when, as if on cue, Prompto's breath hitches and his eyes fixate on something over Cor's shoulder. He turns around and there, finally, he sees a group of about seven or so men and women prepped with armoured suits making their way down the staircase. It draws some stares and gasps from the few not in the Glaive who are still there, but thankfully the evacuation work has come so far that there aren't many around.

Cor lets his shoulders sag ever so slightly in relief as the woman who seems to be in charge of the group comes over to him and Nyx. They exchange a few words and what little information they have on the situation, and she nods in affirmation and begins her work. Ordering three of her people to secure the streets and immediate surroundings to the bottom of the staircase, and the rest to come with her as she movies calmly towards Prompto. Cor tries to send him another encouraging nod, but he looks possibly even more terrified than before. The wide, unsure eyes and trembling lips are not something Cor wants to see on his son's face ever again if he can avoid it.

"They," Prompto tries, but it comes out more a choked gasp than anything else, and he hurries to try again. "they said not to touch it." The words almost trip over themselves in the rush to get out, and Prompto sends Cor a pleading look. Almost desperate as members of the bomb squad are getting closer to him.

"These people know what they're doing, kid." Cor urges on, thankful that his voice carries such authority and doesn't betray any underlying worries. "Let them help. I promise it will all be fine." Anything else is out of the question, he thinks, but he doesn't say that. Instead opting to take on as soothing and confident an expression as possible.

Prompto nods again, but doesn't look any more convinced, letting slip a tiny whine when the approaching bomb technicians are close enough to touch. The woman orders the hoodie to be removed, and her associates make quick work of it. It's close to torture, Cor finds, having to stay where he is and only watch. Prompto stays stiff and unmoving as the hoodie is removed and thrown to the side, where Nyx goes to pick it up. In the clutter of people now around him, Prompto looks like a forlorn kitten, fixed to the ground and scared to move in any significant way.

"Timer?" asks the woman loudly.

"None ma'am." comes the answer.

At this the woman turns her attention back to Nyx and Cor. "We're sure it's timed?" She asks. "No chance it could be remote controlled?"

Cor opens his mouth to answer but to his great surprise, and the woman's too it seems, Prompto beats him to it. "It's timed," his voice shakes slightly as he speaks. "they said so when they dropped me off… f-fifty minutes." he stammers, then his voice dies down again.

A moment of stunned silence goes by, then the woman curses loudly. "You should have said so sooner!" She snaps. Cor sees how it makes Prompto shrink in on himself and hears his stuttered apologies. They need to figure out how much time they have left, and the last thing he wants is for Prompto to panic now. So he takes a careful step forward, intent on getting Prompto's attention away from the lady.

"Prompto look at me!" He implores loudly, cutting Prompto off in the midst of his train of apologies. "Just look at me. I need you to tell me how long you stood here before anyone arrived, can you do that?"

"I- 6 maybe 7 minutes, I think." He answers, swallowing hard. Cor nods at him again then hastily checks the time on his phone. It's been almost 30 minutes since he left his office, though to him it feels like much longer than that. Still, that doesn't leave them with much time, only a little under 20 minutes. Cor relays the information out loud, to which the woman nods and goes back to her work, not wasting another second on talking.

Through all this Prompto has been keeping his eyes locked on Cor, exactly as told. So Cor sees it the second he returns his attention to his son. That now with the working hands of multiple people back around his waist, and the knowledge of just how long he has left until an eventual untimely death- a little under 20 minutes, it's all too much. Cor can see it all swirling around in his head, can read it in his face. It's one of the effects of having cared for someone from when they were a small child, Cor knows his son, and he knows the breaking point is coming.

"Prompto," he begins softly, "keep your eyes focused on me, okay? Only on me, ignore anything else." Prompto nods, chokes out a sob, and lets the first few tears come. Cor sees them rolling down unhindered, and the wet streaks they leave on freckled skin. "It's okay," he hushes, barely even noticing that he's taken a few more steps towards Prompto. "you've been brave today. Now just let us fix the rest, okay? It'll be alright."

Cor keeps speaking softly like that for what somehow feels simultaneously like an eternity and no time at all. The tears are still running down Prompto's face, but he's managing to keep his attention mostly on Cor and not on the rest of the situation. It's working exactly how Cor was hoping it would. When, after some time, the bomb loosens from around Prompto's waist and movement surges all around it catches Prompto entirely off-guard. But not Cor. Cor rushes forward the second he sees that the explosives are removed and Prompto is being shoved away from them for the bomb squad to finish their work, and when Prompto stumbles Cor catches him. Relief floods through Cor's body like a breath of fresh air, and he wastes no time before dragging Prompto a few secure steps back. He's holding his son, and it's okay now.

Prompto cries for another while, not at all surprising given the rush and tension from the day, but he's at least safe. In a move uncharacteristically tender for Cor when they're anywhere other than the privacy of their home, he runs his hand through his son's soft hair and places a gentle kiss on his forehead. "You're okay Prom, you're okay."

The two are awarded some peace and quiet before Nyx comes to check on the two of them and provide them with the news that the bomb has been properly taken care of. When he does Cor gives him a grateful nod. He knows it's time for him to take Prompto home, but before that there's one last thing he needs to do.

"Make sure the security footage from today is thoroughly checked." Says Cor, his voice every bit as serious as the situation calls for. And now it's Nyx's turn to nod, knowing without needing to be told what he's on the lookout for. "I want them found and identified."