stomach of anger

the switch

→scenario: You think you’re getting a normal Christmas present from your boyfriend Hoseok, but what he doesn’t tell you is that your gift includes a special power he and the rest of the boys have, enabling them to switch off between one another… during sex.

→pairing: bts | reader

→genre: smut

→word count: 9,085

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the stages of love - peter parker

Originally posted by tomshollandss

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Summary: The Stages of Love played you like a game for years on end, but Peter might of just realized the same accounted for him too.

Requested: yes (anon)

Warnings: language; so much fluff holy shit

Words: 2524

a/n: so here’s a super fluffy peter imagine yikes this is so fluffy and long but oh well. anyway, pietro imagine releases tonight! hope u enjoy:) o and italics is in the past:)



Stage One: Confusion

You vividly remember the easier times like it was yesterday, the point where nothing was stressful in life besides picking out which birthday presents you wanted more than the others. Everything glided through your life so easily, not a stress in the world. You were seven at the time, the world of coloring your homework assignment and not having to study for the ACT.

You were in Mrs. Banks’ classroom for the year, the most wonderful teacher you could’ve ever thought of having. She was thoughtful, sweet, and she never raised her voice. Once you walked into the room on the first day, your seating assignment was golden. She had sat you next to your long time friend Michelle, your smile bright and jittery as you happily hopped your way over to your friend, her face lighting up at the sight of your name tag place next to hers. You arranged your pencil bag and crayons as Michelle talked ferociously to you about how much fun you two were gonna have all year next to each other.

Not even two minutes later, your bubbly conversation with Michelle was silenced, both of your attention’s snapping to a new figure being seen across the table from you. Your   big, Y/E/C eyes widened at the presence of the new boy, or what you thought was a boy, due to the fact his head was shoved away, hiding in the arms of your teacher.

“Y/N, Michelle, this is your other table buddy, Peter. Can you say hello?” Mrs. Banks’ soft, silky voice floated through your ears as your mind instantly nodded a yes through your head, your eagerness to make a new friend growing.

As Michelle nodded back as well, your teacher coaxed Peter’s seemingly shy demeanor from her arms and led him to the seat across from you. You watched carefully as the boy’s mop of slightly curly, brown hair move to face away from you, decisively showing you and your friend his face. Your eyes followed his features as they opened up to new faces being shown around him. His bashful, bright brown eyes wandered from you to Michelle numerous times before his small lips formed a weary smile at the two of you. Your fascination with this boy was growing by the minute, his entire demeanor questioned you over and over again.

Mrs. Banks’ let him be before walking away to greet others at the door. You stared directly at Peter, waiting for him to open his quiet mouth and say something. His eyes directed down at his desk, arranging his new pencils and crayons in order. Your mind grew impatient waiting for this new friend of yours to talk, so you decided to start the conversation.

“Hi, Peter! I’m Y/N! This is Michelle,” you started, voice squeaky and loud as your finger pointed over to Michelle. She waved at Peter sweetly before pulling out a book and flipping through tge pages.

Peter’s head slowly turned up and locked gazes with you, eyes wide with weariness and concern at your sudden outward demeanor. His thin eyebrows furrowed before his lips did that same small smile again and spoke to you.

“H-Hi,” he quietly answered, nose crinkling in concern of you not being able to hear his quiet voice.

Your smile lit up as soon as he replied, two front teeth missing from the equation, but still the brightest smile possible was adorned across your face. Your mind was somehow already captivated  by this boy’s reticent and peaceful disposition. But your heart was confused at the same time, your seven year old brain not knowing what this new exciting feeling that had been cast upon you on such short notice.

But man, did you like it.

Stage Two: Denial

“Peter! You have to tell me, c'mon!” you urged your best friend of five years, your hands slightly shoving him.

Peter rolled his eyes and folded his arms over his chest in sudden defeat, the sound of regret laced through his words, “Do I have to?”

You urgently shook your head up and down, eyes wide with curiosity as you watched the eleven year old boy in front of you. You were attempting to get Peter to tell you who his crush was, and it wasn’t working in your favor. You had pressured hi eight times that day to tell you, him not budging once. Bu this time, you could feel his attitude slipping, the secret so close to being released.

You really didn’t know why you wanted to know so badly. Maye it was the rush you would get when attempting to set the two of them up. Or, maybe it was the excitement you feel push through you as the Peter told you something he would never, ever tell anyone else.

Your thoughts were cut short as peter heavily sighed and waked closer towards you. His eyes cased everywhere else in the room besides yours  as he finally yielded to your constant begging and told you the secret.

“It’s, it’s Liz Allen,” he said rushed and quietly, instantly pulling away from your ear as the words slipped off his lips, sudden regret soaking his demeanor.

Your mind transitioned from eagerness to almost… regret?  You couldn’t quite detect the feeling that was pulsing through your veins right now. All you could think about was the girl’s name that had just rolled off Peter’s tongue and the fact that everything about her just didn’t match up with Peter.

You whispered back to him, looking around for the sight of anyone before muttering, “But, she’s an… eighth grader,” the sound of her grade level sounded so scandalous and out of place your eleven year old brain didn’t want to comprehend it.

“So?” Peter questioned back to you, rolling his eyes as if you were being the uptight one.

Thoughts of Peter whisking himself away from your time to stare at Liz Allen made your stomach twist in anger and from the tips of your fingers to your toes twitch with jealousy.

Woah woah, wait. Jealousy? You, jealous of Peter’s attention? No way. There was no way you, Y/N Y/L/N was somewhat crushing on Peter Parker. It’s Peter for god’s sake! He was awkward all the time, and he was your best friend. You were NOT jealous.

Nope, no way. There’s no way.

lmao you thot.

Stage Three: Acceptance

It had been two years ever since Peter admitted to his  longing, overbearing, and utterly pathetic crush on Liz Allen. And the  fact that you were completely over it, was to say the least. Ever since  he had slipped his secret to you, his eyes for Liz grew fonder as well  as his heart. His captivating brown eyes would light up a room as he  would spot Liz from the other side, his feet that once carried  themselves over to you before class, found their way over to the older  girl.

Peter’s heart yearned for Liz, while yours, as  you hated to admit, ached for his. Your mind since then has been in a  constant whirlwind of confusion, guilt, regret, and forgiveness as it  flipped between the two sides of your mirroring conflicts.

One  day, you would carry your hatred of his affection on your shoulders as  you approached the school, your feelings portrayed across your face.  Your lips would turn down in a scowl as your eyes would match, the usual   bright Y/E/C would glaze over in a layer of darkness to match your   mood.

But then the next day, Peter just had to do   something cute as hell, kicking the beat of your heart again and   igniting your new feelings, triggering your mind to wash away all of the  bad and immense feelings you had towards Peter’s affections. You   couldn’t trust your conflicted emotions anymore, your newly hormonal,   thirteen year old brain would constantly conflict yourself.

The point was, Peter Parker was messing with your mind, and you had no idea what would happen next.

Stage Four: Infatuation

“Peter, don’t do this again.”

“Y/N please! I promise you, we’ll work on it tomorrow!” Peter pleaded you, his hands grasped around the pole connecting your bed together. His pleads escaped his mouth in sweet, savory sections that made your heart thump.

Peter was flaking on you again, for Liz. Of course, who else would it be? You two were supposed to be working on your Chemistry project, but once again, he got a text from Liz, asking him to help her with homecoming stuff. The beautiful boy before you was asking for yet another favor, replacing your time over again with someone else’s.

You shook your head slightly, allowing him to leave you, working on the project alone. His sweet brown eyes connected with yours in happiness as you agreed.

“Thank you!” he ran over to your slumped figure, instantly wrapping his arms around your frame in a bone crushing hug. The heat between your two bodies flooded your memory of how it felt to succumb to his captivating touch. He released from your grasp, smiling at you once more before exiting your room in a rush.

And he was gone.

You couldn’t help but let out a shaky sigh, the emotions that wracked your brain for months attempting to spill out of your system.Two years had passed since you willingly admitted to yourself your immense feelings for Peter. The one day your feelings never conflicted you again caused you to have almost a mental breakdown. Every wave of sudden affection you yearned for from Peter hit you all at once that day, your thoughts no longer blurring you from the truth.

Your mind played every scenario of happiness, affection, and liveliness it could recall of your years with Peter. You adored his thoughtful strength to want to be able to do more with his life, his intelligence acting as a flame of ignition. You loved carefully gazing at the boy as he bit his thin, pink bottom lip in concentration, dazzling chocolate eyes trained in thought as he focused on something intense. His slightly curled brown hair would run through his fingers in time of stress, your eyes latching themselves on to the muscles that lined his sculpted hands along the top. And don’t even get started on the freckles. They peppered his tan skin so lightly that they looked as if they were barely there. Random ones would appear on his nose daily, and you would take note of the new placement and smile to yourself at all of his purely mesmerizing quirks.

You sensed a pleasure of infatuation ignite your heart in a fiery sensation with the boy, your mind clouding with pleasure and hope as you dazingly thought about him night and day. His heart was pure and full of complete joy, which made your feelings grow immensely deeper as time clocked on. Nothing could beat the admirable emotion you felt towards that boy, and that was not a good sign.

Your brain loathed to admit it, but you knew deep down in the pit of your stomach and the back of your mind that he would never, ever gaze at you the way his eyes would cast a upon the older girl’s. He was your best friend, and unfortunately that was all.

But your feelings never countered for a minute.

Stage Five: Affection

One year later and Peter still knew. How could he not? From the way your pure Y/E/C eyes would run their course over his figure day by day to the way he would sense and witness your heart break as he fled your lonely figure for someone else’s. Ever since you two were thirteen, his immature boy brain could perceive the jealousy you proved among him as he spoke excitedly about his crush. At first he denied that you had any feeling towards him, but then he kept thinking back to all the occurrences to when your beautiful, bright smile was vanished from your features completely, when he talked about Liz.

He could remember the exact day he figured out your feelings. Your head was downcasted as he spoke to you about a science project. His eyes watched as your figure went limp at the sound of Liz’s name being used in an out-of-context situation. You then lifted your head, your usual light eyes portraying a dark side as you locked his gaze. Your features hardened and his heart did an unusual flip, his insides churning at the new unfamiliar and cold feeling.

It was almost as if seeing you in such a demure state put him in a saddened one. As time went on and his brain continued to wrack for answers, he finally received the answer.


Guilt was the previous anonymous feeling, and he felt his heart ache a little. The thought of  you staying up at night with thoughts of him wandering around your heartbroken state, brought him into a new light. Liz used to be the one who was the only facade of his wondrous thoughts day and night.

But as he sat in bed that night, his confused mind keeping him from sleep, he realized you had been for awhile. The emotion hit him like a truck, instantly being bombarded with images of you. The form of your radiant eyes and matching smile clouded the front of his mind, his veins suddenly pumping with a new, enticing feeling.

The way your nose would scrunch at something you took a dislike to, or the way your long eyelashes would flutter quickly as you attempted to stay awake and continue studying for another test. But most of all, the way that your soft features would all elevate to a new type of happiness you looked his way at the beginning of the day, his heart inflaming with captivity and admiration for you and everything you were made of.

The alluring sense of all this was completely evident the first time he kissed you too.


“Peter, what are you…?” you daringly questioned his close and infatuated presence.

“Please, Y/N. Let me show you much I love you” his scratchy yet sweet voice whispered against your trembling lips. The thought of Peter falling in love with caused your entire body to shake in nerves and shock. The air around the both of you became heavy and lucid as everything in the world seemed to make sense. The love you yearned for him to reciprocate was suddenly present, and you didn’t know when or why it was now showing itself, but you didn’t care. Nothing else mattered then as Peter’s admirable brown eyes gazed from your lips and back to your eyes as the soft touch of his hands enveloping your face in a warm manner sent chills up and down both of your fingertips. Peter’s sweet touch was closed as his savory lips planted themselves on yours.

Both hearts filled with love as the feeling of closeness between the two of developed. Your lips pushed themselves back on his as your arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to your needy figure. His throat emitted a long-awaited sigh of relief, your feeling being proved for one another once and for all.

The stages of love were somewhat a game. But, if you play them right, you’ll prove you’re the winner.


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Grind Till I Own It || Mafia!Jeon Jungkook x Reader [M] Pt. 1

Summary : Jeon Jungkook is the son of the famous mafia gang TBB (The Black Base) and is a filthy rich man that gets whatever his finger points at - that includes even you.

Rated [M] for eventual smut/angst

You’d like to think that you were a flower amongst the thousands of sweaty bodies grinding on each other. A pure flower. If it wasn’t for your complete opposite best friend you wouldn’t even step foot in this whatever club, but of course she worked her magic on you and here you were. Here you were, quietly sipping on your beverage while the taste intoxicated you more and more each second that slipped away.

“If I were you - I’d slow down with that drink" 

You heard a man chuckle, accompanied by the sound of wiping glass. 

“They’re known for turning good girls into bad girls”.

You paused, letting his words melt in your brain before you raised your glass, a smirk painted on your pink tinted glossy lips.

“What makes you think I’m a good girl hmm?” You slurred, surprised the words could roll off your tongue despite your boozy state. You earned another chuckle from the bartender, he shook his head in - not disbelief but amusement in which he looked up at you with a grin.

“How come such a rebellious girl like yourself be alone in this dark place?” He mused. “Where’s your prince charming? Shouldn’t he be here and shield his princess?” Your eyes traveled to his name tag and made out his name as Jin.

“Well Jin” You started, downing the whole thing with a hiss at how the liquor burned your throat. You liked Jin, he had a way with his words that made you want to listen to him more - it was like his words hypnotized you to keep talking to him, guess that is the reason for him being the bartender. “This princess doesn’t need a prince charming, she’d rather have another drink though” You grinned, the corners of your lips stretching from cheek to cheek.

“Of co- Shit”

Jin caught you off guard with the sudden way he hissed. His eyes were wide as if he’d just seen a ghost pop up in front of him, it made your head spin around and holy fuck.

It wasn’t a ghost that had taken over both of your and Jin’s eyes - it was a God.

His ebony hair was neatly parted on each side, exhibiting his smooth forehead to the whole world. His three-piece suit was equally as black as his hair, though his tie was a haunting cherry red which made his chest pop up a bit. His eyes were sharp and alluring, he could probably turn anyone who laid their eyes on him a stone statue in seconds. This guy was attractive yes, but what wasn’t as attractive as himself was the half naked girls who had their arms snaked around his - maybe you were just jealous?.

You turned to Jin, your mouth hung open

“Who the fuck is that?”

Jin snickered while returning a few glasses that were wrapped around his fingers, he could clearly see that this was the first time you’ve ever seen him and it made Jin’s snicker turn into a low laughter. “Like what you see?”

You felt your cheeks heat up together with your hammering heart. You turned around, hoping that you’d catch another mesmerizing glimpse of the man in the suit but you frowned when it looked like he had vanished somewhere out of your sight. With a sigh of disappointment you proceeded to stand up, catching Jin’s attention.

“Leaving already? You’re about to miss the best part”

This perked up your attention and your head cocked to the side, your brows crushed together curiously while your arms were crossed above your chest. “Best part?”

Jin nodded, removing the egg white apron that was tied about his waist. He waved his hand in an excused manner to his - you guessed boss - and he motioned you to follow him. While walking, you noticed how Jin was familiar with almost all the people in the bar, it made you a tad bit jealous only knowing your best friend who was probably drunk with some guy. A smile played at your lips, knowing how she’d act the next day and how amusing it was to watch her walk with a chocolate bar in her mouth while yelling ‘asshole’ to the wall.

“So” Jin began, startling you a bit. “Let me tell you a little bit about The Black Base - or TBB in short. The guy you saw before is the son of the most famous mafia gangs around town, they’re so rich that rumors say his dad bathes in money” Jin explained, raising his head to greet the people that passed him.

“TBB? But what’s he doing here? Shouldn’t he, like, work or something?” You asked, flattening the tight black dress that hugged your curves a little too tight for your taste.

Jin laughed. “Work? The guy is born with a silver spoon in his mouth, work is the least thing he worries about” He paused. “If he even does have any worries”.

This guy sounded like a complete jerk to you and you haven’t even met him yet.

Jin had taken you to what looked like the more rich part of the bar. All the men wearing suits and tall glasses of expensive champagne hung from their hands. Filthy rich bastards You thought as you and Jin sat down on a round table, Jin gently nudged your leg, nodding to the left. His expression screaming ‘look over there’ with a smirk.

And so you did.

And there he was.

“Wait- what’s his name?” You furiously looked back at jin, who was just smiling.

“Jeon Jungkook” Jin said. Ah, even his name sounded like rich dirt to your ears.

He looked as fine as before, not a single wrinkle had taken over his black suit and it looked like he had switched girls - huh, what a player You thought as you rolled your eyes over this strange feeling that bubbled in your stomach. Anger mixed with a drop of jealousy.

“Looks like they’re playing pool this time” Jin said, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Aah Jin! My man”

Your heart was about to explode.

Jungkook was standing right next to Jin with a sly smirk, his body leaning comfortably with the support of his elbow on Jin’s shoulder. Jin chuckled.

“Hey, another game I see? Can I count on you if I bet you’ll win?”

Jungkook laughed. His laughter was loud and obnoxious, filling the whole room with it. You frowned because it muffled the song which happened to be your favorite one, damn was he loud.

Suddenly, his eyes pierced through your body and you forgot to breathe for a moment. His knife like eyes carved a hole in your heart and you shifted uncontrollably in your seat, rubbing your legs together to distract you from looking back at him - but you fell into his trap and looked.

“And who’s this”

It didn’t even sound like a question to you, it sounded more like a demand. His confidence shone brightly, and the way his eyes traveled from your eyes to your lips and further down made your heart flutter. You mentally scolded yourself for letting this jerk shake up your fragile heart, worst part is that you kind of liked how his attention was on you for the time being.

“Oh!” Jin lit up like a Christmas tree, he grinned at the way your cheeks were turning into a strawberry like shade. “This is Y/N, we recently met but I do consider us friends already”.

Jungkook raised a brow, his smirk more prominent than before. He - just like everyone else - had his hand occupied with a transparent glass of Champagne, the yellow fluid crashed from side to side as he swung his glass in a slow pace. Jungkook hummed in response.

“You seem to always befriend the most ethereal ones, Jin. No wonder they say you have a keen eyesight” He playfully nudged Jin’s shoulder, laughing.

You covered your mouth, unsure of how to reply to such a compliment. Not unsure - too embarrassed was the word. You were amazed at how easily this guy could compliment someone, let alone a complete stranger. He was probably blinded by his narcissism, jerk.

Jin shrugged. “This is Y/N’s first time here, I hope you show her what great games they display here, so she maybe can come again” Jin gained a laughter from your lips, Jin was definitely better than this jerk, he was more careful and gentle while Jungkook just cut to the chase. Painfully. 

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N” Jungkook tapped his chin each time he said your name, still smirking. “I like it” He caught your sight and winked before walking over to another table, making your heart jump up at the sudden way his eyes scanned you - as if you were the prey that his stomach growled for.

God, but he was so fucking attractive you patted yourself for not being like the other girls who would’ve thrown themselves on him a long time ago.

“Y/N! The game is about to start” Jin said and clapped his hands in excitement, his eyes were glued to the pool table and you followed his glance, your own eyes landing on the same table as your bartender friend. You tried to suppress a giggle at how Jin was shaking from being too excited - it was actually kind of cute.

“C'mon Jungkook, don’t let me down!” Jin shouted when Jungkook came out with a cue stick, he was waving to Jin but then his eyes were on you again. 

You gulped.

Why is he looking at me? You thought, chewing on your bottom lip nervously.

Jungkook looked focused and it honestly took you in surprise. How could this player be so dedicated to something when he couldn’t even stick with one girl? You shook your head, trying to get the poisonous thoughts out of your head and maybe, just maybe you could watch this game.

You were at a loss for words, completely shocked at how this game had ended - Jungkook had won five games in a row now. You couldn’t even imagine the money he had gotten from just one game. Your attention was focused on the people behind you who were whispering about both Jungkook and TBB.

“His father is rather lucky, even though he only has two months left”

Your eyes went wide when your mind finally digested what the man behind you had just said. You barely knew Jungkook but how come your heart felt as if it got hit with a hammer just now? Was this pity? Worry?.

You looked at the ground for a moment before Jin called your name, causing you to look up. 

“Jungkook said he was inviting us for a few drinks! You coming?” He smiled at you, showing off his pearly white teeth while his hand grabbed yours and without any sort of answer - he lead you to a table. 

There he was again, looking so incredibly handsome that you were afraid that if you touched him you’d burn yourself. 

“Ah! Jin, Y/N glad you could join me” Jungkook grinned, his tone low and raspy from all the alcohol he had poured down his throat  "Sit down, sit down”.  

So you both sat down and Jungkook grabbed Jin’s glass, filling it with the same champagne as before and then moved on to yours. 

“Can you handle it, kitten?“ 

The nickname he just gave you made a shiver travel down your spine and onto your toes, you couldn’t help but curl them underneath your heels. 

You mimicked his signature smirk

"Are you trying to intimidate me?" 

Jungkook chuckled, pouring down the gold liquid until your whole glass was mid full, you noticed how he seemed to sneak glances at you - but honestly, you didn’t mind at all.

Jeon Jungkook was sneaking glances at you anyway. 

"So” Jungkook began, leaning back on his chair, toying with his Rolex watch for awhile before your eyes met again. Something about his stare told you that you’re in danger, it was alarming. The way his eyes seemed to bore into your own created a spell in which you could not escape, no matter how much you wanted to avoid his stare, and how much you struggled; you were trapped. 

“Who’s the lucky one hm?”.

You drew your eyebrows together in confusion, your mind blank for awhile before you finally prepared your reply.

“No one” You simply said, tasting the drink in your glass. “My best friend wanted me to come, so, I did”. 

God. He was just sitting down and you still thought it was the hottest thing you’ve seen, what spell did he posses that made you feel like this? You were a deer and he was the beast in this game, and just like his other games - he was winning. 

Jungkook rubbed his chin, letting the words that came out of your alluring lips melt in his brain which seemed to be clouded with only you. He leaned forwards, hands clasped together and elbows on the table. 

Jin suddenly spoke up.

“Shit, the boss is calling for me” He said and stood up. “Enjoy yourselves” Jin flashed a weak smile before he vanished and you were left with Jungkook.



Your head - as if you had no control over your actions - spun to the direction of Jungkook’s voice from where Jin had left. You gulped when he suddenly abandoned his seat and proceeded to sit next to you, Jungkook moved too swiftly for your eyes to even register what just happened - or how it even happened.

“I seem to take quite an interest in you, you’re.. Mmh  He paused to think, while doing this you found his arm wrapped around your waist and he was slowly pulling you to his body.

"You’re different my dear” Jungkook smirked, placing a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You shivered at the touch, cold yet it still had a burning flame dancing underneath his fingers, and it traveled all the way up to your neck.

“I-I am?” You gulped for the second time.

Jungkook chuckled. “Did you just stutter? Never knew bad girls could do that”.

Chewing on your bottom lip as if it was your last meal, you connected your legs together in order to conceal how nervous you were but of course - he found out rather quickly.

“Well” You straightened your back, emptying the glass. “You said I’m different, no?”

It was Jungkook’s turn to chew on his lip. He raised one eyebrows and huffed in nothing but amusement. He was pulling on your strings so you decided to pull his - was it working? God knows if. 

“You’re right - you are different” Jungkook said, rubbing his hand on your exposed thigh, slowly as if to tease you. “So different that it makes me want to have you all to myself” A dark chuckle made its way from his mouth and you felt his finger ghost around your panties. 


You moaned out softly when Jungkook hit your wet core, rubbing it a bit too roughly - but then you liked it at the same time. You were just scared because fuck, you and him were both drunk, what if regrets crash down the next day?. 

“Princess, I really wanna get you out of that dress” Jungkook whispered, his hot breath laced with the smell of alcohol hit your neck and holy shit you wanted to get out of it too but you were drunk? Half of the time you didn’t even know what you were saying, shit could go down real fast.

“W-Wait, I’m drunk, you’re drunk. I don’t think this is a good idea, really.” You exhaled, wanting to deny how painful it was when his fingers left your panties. “Besides, you can get any girl you want here, how about that huh?”.

Jungkook was so fucking amused. You were putting on a good ass show right in front of him and it had been a long time since he felt something like this. Sure, he could get anyone he wanted but there was no one who could replace the flames in the pit of his stomach which he got from you. Jungkook wanted you and he will get you - no matter what but he had to play out your cards first, that’s just how the game goes right?.

Jungkook put his hands up in surrender, grinning. “My bad, my bad.  You’re right, but then again” He brought his face so close to yours that your noses brushed together. “I wouldn’t mind fucking you drunk”.

Your face was probably burning in different shades of pink and red. You were about to say something but then you heard the familiar voice of your best friend, and you couldn’t express how happy you felt to see her face. 

“Y/N I-” Your best friend, Seulbi came into view and once she saw you and Jungkook, she closed her mouth shut. Your eyes screamed 'I can explain’ but before you could do anything Seulbi grabbed your arm and yanked you out of the seat. 

“Ah! Seulbi!” Jungkook lit up, clasping his hands together. “Nice to see you again! Whoa, look at you! Seems like you’re doing good without me”.

You looked at your best friend, the corners of your lips curved downwards and now it was Seulgi’s eyes that screamed 'I can explain’. You looked at her and then Jungkook, then back at her.

“You know him?!”

“I- Well, we were something before. But trust me, I’m helping you over here by getting the fuck away from this, this asshole” Seulbi angrily said, her eyes cutting through Jungkook, every word that levitated from her mouth was wrapped up with pure hatred - like a gift from hell itself. 

“You never told me about him” You said sternly, letting your arms limp by your sides. You weren’t exactly mad at her, but there was something inside of you that made your stomach churn in displeasure. 

“Y/N, let’s go, he probably tried something on you didn’t he? God, here I’ll-" 

"Let go, Seulbi" 

Seulbi’s eyes widened. She’d seen you angry plenty of times before but this was something else - something more than just being angry. She could almost see the heat from your head in front of her eyes and it made her feel heartbroken, you two had been best friends for so long. Seulbi didn’t want this to end. 


Not like this. 

"Y/N, seriously? Don’t trust this guy, and I’m saying this from experience” Seulbi said, her voice soft and gentle yet still had something in it that made you scoff. “Get away from him" 

"Seulbi, honey, dear. Can’t you see what you’ve done? Can’t believe you kept me a secret from your best friend” Jungkook said mockingly, hands behind his back while he strolled in circles around you two. 

Jungkook mingled around you for a moment, leaning in to whisper into your ear. 

“What kind of best friend does this huh?" 

You knew that he was just talking bullshit to get you on his side. But then again, you still couldn’t believe that she lied about Jungkook. 

Couldn’t believe that she slept with one of the richest men just to have everything her finger landed on. It tore you apart. That explains why she never lends her clothes to you, because if Seulbi did - then her sugar daddy that is standing right beside you wouldn’t be her sugar daddy anymore. 

"Now I know. Now I know why you didn’t let me borrow your clothes, because your contract with 'JK daddy’ would get terminated” You snapped at Seulbi, making her step back. “Right?!”. 

You never yelled at Seulbi. Not even when she did something wrong, or when she broke something, but this. This was another story. A story that almost made you burst into tears because of how ridiculous it was. 

“My, my. I would certainly not call this a friendship, Seulbi, dear, how could you?” Jungkook cooed softly, his words felt like cotton in your ears and it made your heart jump. 

“Y/N, come with me”

You didn’t know what happened - or how it happened. But Jungkook was dragging you around the bar until the fresh air of the outside world hit you. And it was then that you finally exploded into small, transparent drops. Your tears rolled down your cheeks and this made Jungkook’s heart ache for the first time in awhile. He had never seen someone look so miserable but at the same time so captivating while they cried. 

Jungkook felt himself almost crying seeing you like this. Your cheeks puffy and sore, eyes slowly melting into a deep scarlet. The way your lips quivered with grief made him want to kiss the pain away but he stopped himself, noting what you said before about the two of you being drunk. But Jungkook couldn’t just let you stand there, couldn’t let you get drenched in the rain that started to pour down as if someone was pouring down water from a bucket. 

“Here, let me” Jungkook cleared his throat before shrugging off his jacket, wrapping it around your bare shoulders so you wouldn’t get cold. Jungkook grabbed his cellphone from the pocket and pressed a contact, bringing the phone close to his ear. 

“Jimin, its urgent - you know what to do” He simply said before putting the electric device back where he took it from. 

You didn’t know what to feel, or how to feel. The only person who you thought could be there for you had been deceiving you and hurting you in secret. As if playing hide and seek but now you found the truth and you ended her game, and you were positive that another round wouldn’t come sooner. 

“Forget her, yeah? You have to erase people like that from your life” Jungkook said, looking up at the dark sky. His hair was damp and it shone in the moonlight, emphasizing on his sharp and handsome features. This man was without a doubt God’s creation. He was elegant, and the white shirt that was getting wet in the rain gave you a sneak peak of how he’d look shirtless. Fuck, he looks so good like this. 

In less than a few minutes later the sound of a car pulling over was heard and Jungkook grabbed your hand, opening the door for you and you sat down. Sighing while removing the jet black jacket from your shoulders, you folded it neatly - considering how expensive it looked. 

“And who’s the princess this night" 

You heard a soft voice ask, looking up you were met with a pair of eyes that were harsh yet the little fat under them represented youth. The driver - who you assumed was Jimin - viewed you from the mirror and he looked quite attractive even though you only saw eyes and a glimpse of carrot colored strands. 

"No time for foolish games Jimin, the princess got her heart shattered into pieces” Jungkook uttered coldly. You guessed these two were great friends after you observed how Jimin’s eyes disappeared into small crescents, a chuckle escaping his rather plump lips. “Yes sir" 

"W-Where are we going?” You weakly asked, surprised at how your voice was able to still give a sound after crying. 

Jungkook smiled kindly your way. “My place" 

Bucky’s Idea

Hey guys! Here’s another oneshot for you. I wrote this when I was really mad one day and it actually made me feel a whole lot better! Lesson learned, when upset write some Bucky fluff. I hope you guys enjoy, I really like this one. Happy Saturday!

Warnings: angry reader that turns into crazy fluff

Note: The reader has powers similar to Wanda’s, kind of a telekenesis that you’re still learning to use. 

Originally posted by rohgers

Originally posted by sebastianobrien

Steve, Bucky and Sam were in the corner of the gym, filling their water bottles, their foreheads dripping with sweat and their tinted cheeks warm from their workout. Their chests were still rising and falling more rapidly than usual as they joked with each other and set up plans for later that night.

The endorphins running through their systems had them on cloud nine. You, however, felt the opposite.

You hadn’t even bothered to change your clothes before blasting into the gym and hoofing it over to the punching bags that were hanging from the ceiling, waiting for you to take everything out on them.

But Steve got in your way.

“Hey, (Y/N), what-”

“I’ll fix it Steve!” you snapped, making him back off. 

He crawled back over to the corner and took his water bottle from Bucky who had been holding it for him. You didn’t miss Bucky’s wide, slightly fearful eyes.

You pulled your sweatshirt over your head and threw it on the floor, your agitated powers making slide further away than you planned. Left in your leggings and thin tank top, you started throwing punches into the bag in front of you, making it sway back and forth. Even it was afraid of you today.

She did that? Tony’s pissed about that.” Sam whispered. 

“Her powers are linked to her emotions. She’s… having a rough day.” Steve tried to defend you.

“Seems like more than just a rough day. Did you see what she did to that-” Steve stuck out his hand to quiet him, but you had heard Sam’s mumbling.

“You’re next if you don’t shut up, Sam.”

Sam didn’t dare stick around to see if you’d keep your word. But Steve couldn’t leave you like this.

“Hey, why don’t you tell me what’s going on, try to calm down.”

“This is calming me down,” you sneered with a hard punch.

Bucky’s eyes were snapping from you to Steve like he was watching a ping pong match. 

“Come on, (Y/N),” Steve continued.

“I’m fine, leave me alone.”

“At least wrap your hands.”

“I don’t need it, Steve.”

“Yes you do, here.”

I don’t need it!” You wailed and sent the punch bag across the room, ripping it off its hook with your powers.

Steve stared at the bag in complete astonishment. He’d never seen you use your powers for anything destructive, and he had definitely never seen you yell at anyone. Exasperated, he finally gave up. He stalked out of the room with his hands surrendered in the air with a sharp “Fine.”

You moved to another bag a few feet away and started hitting into it, ignoring the sting on your knuckles from the harsh fabric. You were so engrossed in your abuse, you didn’t notice Bucky quietly standing next to you. After a particularly hard hit, you returned your wrists to your home position in front of your face. You jumped in surprise when he grabbed your right forearm and started folding the black, cotton wrap around your hands. 

“By the time you’re done, your knuckles will be raw,” he mumbled.

Within seconds, he was done and walking out of the gym. A pang of guilt ravaged your gut, you had never snapped at the guys before. You decided to ignore your sinking stomach and continue taking your anger out on the bag, you would apologize later. 

You carried on until you could hardly lift your arms, thankful for the wrap around your knuckles. You couldn’t imagine what your hands would look like if Bucky hadn’t helped you. 

The thought made you smile. You and Bucky weren’t very close, but you still work together, counted on each other out in the field. Though you would never say it out loud, you knew he could read you like a book. The one thing you and him had in common was your stubborn attitude, and he knew how to handle you like no one else on the team did.

Your rambling brain stopped as soon as you jumped in the shower. The hot water soothed your muscles and ran down your skin, leaving streaks in its path. You concentrated on the steam rising in the shower stall and fogging up the glass instead of replaying your awful day in your mind, which you had a habit of doing. 

You stood under the water until it ran cold, and only then did you shut it off and change into your favorite pair of pajamas. They were soft and cozy, the shirt was light and the pants long enough to cover your toes.

As you were running a comb through your tangled, damp hair, your stomach rumbled, begging for some kind of dinner. You sighed, knowing that the guys would be downstairs and this was your chance to apologize for being so rude and downright mean to them in the gym.

The elevator led you to the kitchen and before the doors even opened you smelled the scent of delicious pizza. Your mouth began to water and your tummy growled in anticipation.

You walked into the room and received a loud greeting from the guys who were sprawled out on the couches in front of the television. 

“Hey! There she is!”

“We have pizza!”

“And movies. All the ones you like.”

Sam’s body was taking up the entire couch, his feet hanging off the arm rest and his arms held high in the air. Bucky was sitting in the lounge chair next to him, grinning brightly at you, and Steve got up from the chair across the way and started walking over to you.

“What? What is this?” you couldn’t hide your excitement or your astonishment.

“We’re having a movie night. Only if you want to though.” Steve slung his arm around you and walked you over to the kitchen counter holding boxes of your favorite pizza. 

“We wanted to apologize for being up your butt today at the gym. We just hate seeing our little ray of sunshine upset.” He mussed your damp hair and you scoffed at his teasing. 

Steve, not knowing his own strength, pulled you into a one arm hug that resulted in your head being pushed into his arm pit. As you pushed him away, you felt the sting in your arms from your workout earlier. When your giggles ceased, you became much more serious.

“I’m the one who needs to apologize. I was downright mean today and-”

“(Y/N), shut up and eat your pizza!” Sam yelled from the couch, interrupting you.

Steve handed you a plate from the cupboard. You took it with a smile and sighed. “Okay, okay.” 

You caught Steve before he made to return to his spot in front of the television. “Steve, uh, thanks,” you said quietly. A movie night was just what you needed. 

“Oh, it wasn’t me. This was Bucky’s idea,” he said to you and then turned away and plopped down on the couch, leaving you with a gaping jaw. You caught your pizza slice before it fell on the floor and took a bite, your eyes still wide in surprise.

While Sam was starting up your favorite movie you inhaled your first piece of pizza and hurried to grab another and make it to the couch before the credits started. The familiar music made your heart swell, as did being surrounded by your friends. They were pretty special, you decided.

As the movie went on and the warmth from the pizza fizzed away, you began to feel the chill that was almost always in the tower. You regretted only wearing a thin t-shirt when you felt how cold your skin was. 

Luckily, hanging on the arm rest next to you was a familiar looking dark green hoodie. “Hey, Steve, do you mind if I throw this on?” you whispered, earning a scowl from Sam who always hated when someone interrupted his Disney movies.

“Not mine,” he mouthed. Then he pointed to Bucky, telling you it was his.

Your head snapped to the right to find Bucky already looking at you. You weren’t sure how he would feel about you borrowing his clothes, so you stood up and whispered, “I’ll just go get one of mine, be right ba-”

“No, no, just wear mine. It’s okay.” Bucky stuck his hand out to stop you from going anywhere. He grinned and nodded again to tell you he was sure.

You smiled in thanks and plopped down on the couch again, slipping your arms into the over sized sleeves and plunging your head through the hood. You wanted to stay inside, it smelled so good. It didn’t smell like cologne or anything you were familiar with. It just smelled like Bucky, not that you noticed he had a distinct smell before you buried yourself in his sweatshirt. But now that you did, you never wanted to smell anything else. You could even go without the smell of delicious pizza if you could always have the scent of old timey soap and after shave ghosting through your senses. 

However, you tried to be a normal human and when you emerged from the hoodie, you pulled your hair out of the neck and snuggled into the extra fabric that was wrapped around you. You hoped Bucky didn’t noticed how you pulled the sleeves over your hands and brought them up to your face so every inhale was laced with his scent. 

Two movies later, the gang admitted their sleepiness. Sam turned off the TV and you offered to put the pizza away and clean up the kitchen. It was the least you could do, this whole shindig was for you, after all. 

You started putting leftover pizza into plastic baggies as you said goodnight to the guys. Sam ruffled your hair and Steve smoothed your locks back down and kissed your forehead before they both headed upstairs.

You piled the empty boxes on the counter and turned to shut the light off before you finished wiping off the counter. When you turned back, the boxes were gone and Bucky was standing there, sponge in hand. His dark figure made you jump out of your skin and squeal softly. 

“Jeez, Buck, you startled me. I didn’t know you were still down here,” you said with a hand covering your thundering chest. 

“Well, I couldn’t just let you clean all this up by yourself,” he said softly, rinsing off the dirty sponge and setting it on the side of the sink.

It was quiet for a moment, the only sound in the room was the buzz of the refrigerator. Your nervous habit of tucking your hair behind your ear struck again, but it made you notice the thick green material covering your fingers.

“Oh, here, thanks for this,” you said as you started taking off his sweatshirt. 

“No, it’s okay, keep it for now, it’s chilly in here. You can give it to me tomorrow,” he rambled.

“Okay. It is really warm, I might just steal it.” You winked.

“It looks good on ya, brings out your pretty eyes.” His surge of confidence quickly melted away as he cleared his throat and continued to babble. “Uh, it’s from the army. That’s why it’s so warm, they don’t make stuff like that anymore.”

You giggled and then hummed in agreement. You looked down at your hands and wrung them together, the sting from the punching bag reminding you about the guilt you still felt from this morning.

“I’m sorry I was such a jerk today. Um, thanks for…” you lifted your sleeve covered hand, “helping me.”

“Hey, we all have our days,” he said, taking your raised hand in his and rolling up the sleeve, showing your red knuckles. His brow furrowed in concern as he gently ran his fingers over the red marks. He shook his head and breathed a laugh out his nose. “You’re stubborn as all hell, ya know that?”

Your eyes lifted from your hands to his smirk. “I’ve been told once or twice.”

He chuckled softly and you thought of what you could say to make him laugh again. It was a wonderful sound. 

He covered your hand with the sleeve and returned it to your side. “Better lay off the punching bags for a few days.”

“Yes, Sergeant.” You said. He chuckled again and the sound made your chest swell.

You knew the conversation was over, but you didn’t want to leave him just yet. You leaned against the kitchen counter and played with your hair once again trying to find the right words to say.

“Steve told me this was your idea,” you said, implying the movie night.

“Punk,” he interjected, making you giggle. 

“Thanks.” You said simply. 

“Ya know, Steve calls you our ‘ray of sunshine,’” he mocked. “But it’s true. We just hate to see you upset. I hate to see you upset.” He admitted quietly.

What came out of his mouth was not what you expected. You didn’t know what to say. So you rose to your toes, placed a hand on his chest and kissed him quickly on the cheek before saying “Goodnight, Bucky,” and turning away.

You took two steps and you were about to enter the hallway when a hand wrapped around your wrist, turned you around, and pulled you into Bucky’s strong body. His lips quickly latched onto yours in a gentle kiss.

His hands cupped both sides of your face while yours settled on his waist. You tilted your head to deepen the kiss and wrapped your arms around him and tugged on the back of his shirt. His fingers pushed through your hair and held your locks at the back of your head. 

If you thought his scent was sweet when you pulled on his sweatshirt, now it was overwhelming. He swam around you and you happily drowned, never wanting to come up for air because it would mean being away from him.

His tongue begged for entrance and you eagerly allowed it, humming happily as it danced with yours and allowed you to taste even more of him. Your brain convinced you if you didn’t touch every inch of him, you’d combust, so you complied. Your fingertips came around from his back and up his chest, pushing his to land on your hips. As your hands wrapped around his neck and tangled in the hair there, his lifted the sweatshirt just enough for his fingertips to land on your skin and leave flames behind.

It felt like years passed, but you wouldn’t mind spending your entire life in his position. Everything he did was so gentle, you’d never felt anything like it. It was addicting. Now that you had a taste of him, you never wanted to let go, and from the way his body was glued to yours, you knew he felt the same way.

You finally pulled away but only far enough to grab a breath. He rested his forehead on yours and held you tightly around your waist.

“If I knew you were going to kiss me back like that I would have done it ages ago.”

You breathed out a laugh and pulled back and looked into his clear blue eyes. Even in the dark they sparkled.

“Well, now you know,” you laughed, running your hand through his hair and trying to memorize the way the his lips curled into that bright toothy smile. You’d never seen him smile like that.  




Gasoline [unfinished WIP, KHR]

Going through my folders and posting what isn’t going to be finished or is dropped, so I can get it out for good and focus on what I do want to write.

Warnings for: born-a-female-Tsuna, mentions of attempted marital rape, forced marriages, drug-induced death and general mafia behavior.

Summary: Prior to marrying Iemitsu, Nana was a very accomplished black widow. Tsuna shouldn’t have to follow in her footsteps like this, but Vongola has left her no choice in the matter. So she will have the mafia fear her as she once feared them, and she will survive.


Prior to marrying Iemitsu, Nana Sawada went under a different name, and was a very accomplished black widow. She slipped poison in drinks and drugs where nobody would think to look, put needle marks in skin and occasionally knives in the backs of men who treated her like an object rather than a person.

Tsuna never wanted to learn such lessons. She wanted her marriage, when it finally did happen, to be the once-in-a-lifetime event her mother gushed about having with Iemitsu. After the mafia came and ruined her life, she still clung to feeble hopes that maybe she could still get that.

But it isn’t to be.

Timoteo intends to make a statement, one way or another. Unfortunately, even if a woman should rule as Decima, she must still have a husband. And Xanxus isn’t about to touch the woman that froze him once upon a time. So he’s reached out beyond Vongola to allied families, and they’ve sent their best to him. And now he’s made a choice, and once again he’s forcing it on her.

Tsuna can lie to everyone but herself; she’s afraid. Terrified, in fact. The thought of a stranger touching her makes her want to vomit. The thought of this man breathing in her general vicinity makes her want to vomit, actually. She shakes and quivers and hides beneath her bedcovers, and for once, Reborn says nothing. He doesn’t scold her. He slides a mug of hot chocolate topped with enough whipped cream to give her diabetes her way, wordlessly tipping his hat down as he leaves the room. It doesn’t take someone of Reborn’s calibre to know the man doesn’t like this any more than she does. But he’s her tutor, not her father (no matter how much she wishes otherwise some days), and so he can only stand back and watch this trainwreck.

Maybe that’s why she confides in her mother. Why when everyone is gone, Tsuna goes downstairs, starts to speak, and then bursts into tears. Everything comes rushing out, every lie about the mafia she’s ever told, and she begs her mother’s forgiveness for the lies, and Nana gives it readily, wrapping arms around her and letting her cry into a warm shoulder. The tears eventually leave, and Nana sits her down, gets her a glass of cold water, and begins to tell her a story.

It is not a nice story.

But it teaches Tsuna what she needs to know to survive. Because Nana was once a prominent black widow that nobody could ever track down. Her husbands died of natural causes - all the autopsy reports say so - and while people had their suspicions, there was no evidence for them to pin her with. And after a time, she’d learned how to disguise herself, going from one husband to the next.

Now she cups Tsuna’s small hands in her own, and drops the mask she uses around everyone. “Tsunako, do you want to learn how?”

Tsuna can’t say yes fast enough.


Her first husband dies to poison.

It’s tradition, her mother insists, when she shows Tsunako had to make a clear, tasteless, odorless toxin that’s practically untraceable once its inside the system. It’s homegrown, and Nana is a perfectionist at teaching it. She has Tsuna make batch after batch after batch until eventually she gets everything perfect. And then she gets a dropper and begins to administer one drop to Tsunako a day.

One drop doesn’t kill her. It makes her feel like shit, but she muscles through it, because a true poison user is protected against whatever they brew. Bianchi is the same way - she can eat whatever she makes and the poison won’t kill her or even make her queasy. Nana is immune to whatever toxins she injects into the veins of others, and eventually Tsuna will be too. They have time - the wedding isn’t due for a while, and nobody is going to force her and her husband together until then.

Tsuna sees Reborn watching them, once, but he vanishes too quickly for her to ask him if he’s going to tell anyone what she’s doing. She doesn’t ask afterward, because there’s a look in his eyes that’s… proud. It makes her feel warm, and when he drills her on her lessons later on, she doesn’t complain, driven by her twin desires to survive what’s coming, and make the man that has become her father in so many ways proud.

Spring passes into summer, and the wedding is held. People flock from all over to see it, and Tsuna is dressed to the nines and sent out at the alter. Her husband is a tall, weedy-looking young man who looks far too smug. She hates him at once, and his oily touch doesn’t remedy that.

The poison is not in his drink, but in her lipstick, and when they kiss (him pressing far too close, too hard, disgusting) she feels a sense of predatory satisfaction. The next morning she wakes up and screams, which brings the bodyguard outside the door running. She plays the part of the horrified wife, discovering her husband’s cold, lifeless body in bed. They rush the body away, and bring her to Reborn to keep her safe while they go question guests and comb through the drinks menu.

Reborn eyes her fingernails, but his eyes flicker upwards when she taps her lip in pretend thought. There’s a ghost of a smile across his face, but it fades once the door opens and Timoteo enters, looking both furious and terrified. He questions her if she feels ill, or if anything felt off at the wedding. She answers no to both, wringing her hands and playing up the ‘Dame-Tsuna’ act to full effect. It works, and the old man leaves.

“You’ve been hanging around Bianchi too much,” Reborn murmurs, not moving his lips, and Tsuna has to bite her own to hold back her return of its not Bianchi I’ve been spending so much time with lately, but you already know that.


The death is passed off as a heart attack a week later when no results come up showing foul play. Tsuna doesn’t even get to play the widow in mourning before Timoteo’s given her another husband, this time in the form of a 40 something lech that’s like every old man out of a hentai. The old man gropes her and laughs too loudly and tries to sneak a hand up her dress to cop a feel, but Tsuna smacks his hand away and smiles the same smile her mother does at home even as her stomach rolls and her anger burns a hole through her heart.

He tries to take her no less than four separate time against various walls, each time growing more and more impatient and annoyed when Tsuna darts away. The poison is in her nails this time, and when he finally grabs her too hard she scratches him ‘on accident’ and then demands he leave her alone, she doesn’t want to be touched. She closes herself off in her room and locks the door. Her new husband pounds on it and snarls demands, but she puts her headphones on and ignores him until eventually he gives up and goes away.

This poison is far more slow-acting, and it doesn’t strike until early the next morning during breakfast. Bianchi and Reborn have taken her out to a nearby cafe for breakfast, citing ‘comfort food in these troubling times and a female shoulder to cry on’. In reality Bianchi wants to know her methods and trade tips, and Reborn pays for a tiny cake and congratulates her on finding sneaky solutions to her problems.

“I thought you’d go running off and tell Timoteo,” she confesses to her tutor. Reborn gives her a look.

“I’ve been around this business long enough to know how these things go, Tsuna. Trust me, I don’t judge you one iota for what you’re doing. But you should probably change your methods here shortly.”

She nods, having already planned to use a needle on whoever the unfortunate third soul is. They finish breakfast and head home, laughing and talking about whatever strikes their fancy, and when they arrive home its to a Timoteo that looks far older than before. “Grandfather? What’s wrong?”

He gives her a pitying look. “There’s… there’s been another death, my dear.”

She drops to her knees in shock, Bianchi by her side instantly, hooking an arm around her shoulders and murmuring comforting words as she ‘helps’ Tsunako up. Reborn’s face is shadowed, but Tsuna can see the sparkle in his eyes from her position. “What happened?” she asks in what she hopes is the right tone of voice.

Later, Reborn toasts her in the privacy of the bedroom, and Bianchi congratulates her on another job well done. This death is passed off as a choking accident, as apparently the man had been shoving as much food in his gullet as possible when the poison had kicked in. Nobody had managed to get to him in time to prevent the ‘choking’, which just made the victory all the easier.



Ste. Anne de Beaupré was quiet. 

She couldn’t understand it.  She assumed Jamie had rushed out to be here.  She rang him in the cab and he hadn’t answered.  She assumed he was busy at the scene.

She walked cautiously towards the abandoned chapel.

Stopped.  Tried Jamie again.  

No answer.  

She tried to call the secretary back.  Dammit, she didn’t even know her name!

No answer.

It felt wrong.  But in a strange way it felt like it was supposed to.

Jamie was frantic.  He hated the part of his job that required him to get a search warrant from the court.  It could take hours.  And he didn’t have hours.  What if the man would knew he was being hunted?  Only God would know where to find him then.  

Mary, Michael and Bride, what is taking that Magistrate so long to sign a fucking piece of paper?  He checked his phone out of habit.  Two missed calls from Claire.  No voice message.  He stepped into the corridor to try her back.

No answer.  

She was probably at home, busy.  

He turned sharply when the door opened.  D.C. Mohr raised the warrant triumphantly in the air. 

Someone was in danger.  She could feel it. 

Claire walked slowly towards the old chapel.  Pushed on the heavy door. 

They were there.  The secretary.  Another woman.  

A boy.  

He was on the altar.  Tethered.

And the Killer.  Rapt.  Consumed.  Misguided. 

Claire slipped in unnoticed, the rise and fall of the prayers disguising any sound.  She could see the secretary trying to work at the knots of the straps without the priest seeing.  She was participating in the prayers, as was the other woman, but her fingers were working frantically to free the boy.

Beeswax candles filled the air with their scent.  The smell was clawing at Claire’s throat.  The heat pressing down on her.

From all evil, deliver us, O Lord.

“Deliver us, O Lord.”

From all sin,

“Deliver us, O Lord.”

From your wrath,

“Deliver us, O Lord.”

From sudden and unprovided death,

“Deliver us, O Lord.”

From the snares of the devil,

“Deliver us, O Lord.”

The litany continued.  He held a large, wooden crucifix over the boy.  Eyes closed.  Sweat beading on his brow.  His large body swayed with the rhythm of his voice.

 Claire stayed still so as not to attract his attention.

She focused on the victim.  She could tell his breathing was laboured.  Skin red.  She needed to get closer to examine him more thoroughly.  She weighed the risk.

To hell with it.

She walked forward, digging in her bag for her stethoscope.  She would need to move fast. 

He didn’t see her right away.  He was too deep into his ritual to focus on her.  It wasn’t until she touched the boy that he exploded.  

“What blasphemy is this??”  His jowls shook with the force of his anger.  “You will not play God to this boy!”

Claire quickly looked the boy over as she jammed the stethoscope in her ears.  Shortness of breath. Turning blue. Tongue swollen.  Blood pressure dropping.  Pulse thready.  Clearly suffering from stomach pain.  

His anger heightened with her indifference towards him.  

“I am the Lord’s Disciple!  You are not ordained to drive away the demon!  Now leave this place!”  His voice was graveled.  Rasping.  Outraged. 

“This boy is a slave to satan and must be purged!”

Claire tuned him out as best she could.  She needed to focus on her diagnosis. 

Allergic reaction.  She was sure of it.

She reached into her bag for the Epinephrine.  

The priest grabbed her arm and squeezed it tightly.

“I smell the vapours of hell on you.”  His hand was like a vise.  His mouth was close to her ear, breathing his hate onto her.  

Claire was assaulted by the visions.  

The hound of Hell barking at him.  Chasing him.  Catching him. 

Half mad, spittle falling from his lips.  

At the pulpit.  Expounding the idea that each child was filled with the Devil.  His obsession with the idea of Satan roaming the Earth. 

In the hospital.  Every illness was a chance to prove God’s power.  Convinced he was one of the chosen Twelve, sent to cast out demons, to anoint the sick with oil, to heal them.  

In this room.  Praying over the children.  Anointing them in the name of the Lord.  Lecturing parents on how their prayers of faith will save the sick.  If anyone has committed sins he will be forgiven.  He will save the sick man.  God has used their suffering to bring about good.  Suffering brings sanctification. 

Claire twisted in his iron grip.  Would not let the visions take her under.  

She felt the unknown woman grab her other arm to steady her.  Could hear the secretary crying out to let Claire help.  

She wrenched her arm free.  In one smooth motion she turned on her heel, and raised her arm.  

She’d grabbed her scissors from the bag instead.  

Long handled, sharp, menacing looking things.  She held them in her fist as if to strike him.

He recoiled.  It gave her the time and space she needed.

She grabbed the boy’s pant leg and cut it open, reached back in the bag for the syringe, and holding his skin tight, plunged the tip of the injection into his outer thigh. 

The priest moved towards the door quickly.  “Satan may like to make a fool of God.  But God will have the last word.”

“Actually, Father Bain,” a thick Scottish accent said, “The Judge at yer trial will.”

Claire spun around in time to see Jamie shove the priest up against the wall, tying his hands behind his back.  

“I don’t even know your name,” Claire said, sitting quietly in a chair in the emergency ward’s waiting room. 

“Shauna,” she said, softly.  “Shauna MacNeil.  My son, Lindsey, was friends with Thomas.”

Thomas Baxter was currently in the back with his mother being monitored.  Seems the Epinephrine bought him some time, but he still needed proper medical attention.  

“Thank God you came,” Shauna whispered.

“I’m glad you called,” Claire said.  

“What happens now?”  Shauna’s dark eyes met Claire’s. 

“Well,” Claire sighed.  “That depends on Detective Sergeant Fraser.”

“How did you know what was wrong with Father Bain?”  Shauna’s dark eyes met Claire’s.

Claire shivered.

“Classic symptoms.  Rare, mind you, but textbook symptoms nonetheless.  Confusion.  Hallucination.  Excess saliva.  I just needed to see if he’d been bitten.”

“Will he live?”  Shauna asked.

“Well, Thomas should be fine.  I think we got to him in time.”  

Shauna visibly relaxed.  

Claire continued, “But I think it will be difficult for Father Bain to recover from this virus.  It’s been weeks.  His central nervous system is definitely compromised.”

Shauna simply nodded.  After a moment she spoke.  “Rabies.  Who would have thought?  I mean, he said he’d been bitten by a stray dog.  Father Anselm told him to get it checked.  We just assumed he had.”

Claire sighed.  She was exhausted.  The sight of the priest’s festering, infected wound kept flooding her mind.  The visions kept resurfacing.  

“He saw demons everywhere.  He was hallucinating.  It’s a symptom of the disease.  In his mind he was performing exorcisms to save those children.”  She turned towards Shauna.  “I’m so sorry your son was caught up in this.  I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“The truth is, Dr. Randall, my boy Lindsey was always sickly.  I was bound to lose him.  Maybe not as early as I did, but he couldn’t fight forever.”  Shauna’s eyes filled with tears.  “I miss him,” she said, choking out the words.  

Claire put her arm around the woman.  She could feel Shauna’s loneliness, her grief, her bone deep sorrow.  

“I know,” Claire whispered.  “I do know.”

anonymous asked:

Can you do a Yakuza AU (if you're not comfortable with that than just normal) with hand x reader where their home is raided and reader is held hostage and hanzo has to watch a little as she is beat up or groped or something before he can save her and kill them? And then a lil fluffy smut along the lines of like "I could've lost you" or "I'll never let them hurt you"

((Yakuza Hanzo…is like my greatest weakness…holyshit thaaaank you for this request you lovely person you))

Japanese summers were absolutely stifling; the suffocating humidity combined with the sweltering heat left people in a constant state of lethargy and irritability. But in the same hand, they were incredibly beautiful in their uniqueness to only Japan; the festivals, fireworks, seasonal delicacies, variety of vibrant and unique yukatas all accompanied by the singing of cicadas. It made suffering through the intense weather worth it. But something was wrong…the cicadas around the Shimada-gumi’s summer estate had gone silent.


Your voice was soft, still thick with sleep as you felt your husband’s arms untangle from around your waist, your body instantly rousing when the comforting heaviness of his touch was gone. Confused wakefulness began to course through you as your bleary eyes cleared, watching as your shirtless husband pulled one of his gun’s from his nightstand, hands quickly loading the weapon and pointing it at the door. You felt your heart begin to thunder in your chest as you pushed yourself up, Hanzo flashing one finger back at you as he took a half step towards the bedroom door. He was still shirtless, his raven hair hastily pushed back from his face but not tied up, the muscles of his back and shoulders tense. Your own body went tense as you heard a crash from downstairs, a muffled curse followed by the sound of more crashing.

Someone had gotten into the estate.

This was not the first time this had happened and you were sure that it wouldn’t be the last; the Shimada-gumi may not have been the biggest Yakuza faction in Japan but they were one of the strongest. That painted a very pretty target on any and all Shimada or Shimada associates’ back. Assassins, kidnappers, blackmailers, hell, even the occasional paparazzi had managed to sneak onto the estate, all looking for something that could bring the Yakuza faction to their knees. Still, none had made it into the main house. Most ended up snuffed out by their small army of Shimada hired bodyguards or security bots near the front gates, the more insistent trespasser making it to the gardens before being shut down. They weren’t in the main Shimada estate, however.

Hanzo had surprised you with a month-long trip to Hokkaido; the two of you visiting the various estates, onsens and even small castles that the Shimadas’ owned in the northern region, handling business on the side but mostly enjoying one another’s company. While your travel security detail had been with the both of you, it was light compared to the amount that stayed around on the main estate. Still, the travel schedule had been strictly need to know, meaning that someone had either hacked their itinerary or one of your trusted employees had divulged that information. Regardless, it appeared that you and Hanzo were on your own for the time being.

As quietly and quickly as you could, you groped at the nightstand until your fingers wrapped around your phone. You forced yourself to look away from your husband’s back, fingers dancing across the touchscreen in a practiced manner, activating the panic feature that had been built into the device. It sent a notification out to the elders, Genji, the entirety of the Shimada security detail and several police stations that were in the pocket of the family. Because of your location, you knew it would be at least two hours before someone arrived, the both of you just had to manage until then. You moved as silently as you could, Hanzo not turning to look at you as you lightly placed your hand on his back.

“I called”, you murmured, voice barely rising above a whisper, taking a half step closer and pressing your body against his back. Touching him calmed you, the heat from his body easily bleeding through the lace and chiffon of the cream negligee you wore, ebbing the racing of your heart. “Two hours…should we–?”

Your body jumped as you felt Hanzo go stock still against you, the sound of someone right outside the door making your blood run cold. The small estate you were in tonight had been upgraded back in 2050 to be more automated; biometric-based security systems, HD security cameras, holo-pad controlled HVAC and appliances and hidden lights that responded to physiological changes in the rooms they were installed in. The security system in the home was, or was supposed to be, heavily encrypted. But you watched as Hanzo adjusted his hold on the gun, the soft, electronic sounds of beeping sounding off through the door before several tiny clicks sounded. The biometric pad next to the door turned from red to green, Hanzo taking several steps back, arm reaching and pushing you further behind him.

“Ah ah, I would put the weapon down! Unless you want your pretty little wife to watch us blow a hole in you.”

Your hand curled into a fist against Hanzo’s back, feeling the angered growl that rumbled through his frame as he sized up the threat in front of the both of you. You could feel the vicious, snarling energy of his twin dragons rippling from beneath his tattoo, sending waves of warning heat through your left arm and your own white ink tattoo. All Shimadas’ were marked with a sign of the dragons, whether by becoming of age if you were blood related or marriage once you had been proven worthy. While unable to actually summon a dragon, the tattoo tied you to your husband and symbolized you were to be protected by his dragons. You didn’t need to see his face to know that his mind was running through every possible scenario that could play out, silently assessing their chances of getting out of here through brute force alone. Gulping thickly, you could see the slight twitch in his shoulders as his hand tightened around his gun before lowering it, the weapon clattering to the floor loudly as he raised his hand.

“Name your demands”, Hanzo said smoothly, his deep voice even despite the danger. His words were sharp, commanding, taking charge despite the fact that he was at a disadvantage; just as the head of the Shimada-gumi should. His right arm remained raised but his left was behind him, keeping you safely tucked behind his body, shielding your both from seeing and being seen by them.

“Oh we will”, the obvious leader remarked snidely, his voice nasally and grating. There was a chorus of laughter that sounded from behind him before he snapped. “Grab ‘em!”

Your husband snarled at the men, stepping back and trying to guard you before the butt of a pistol swung out and connected with his left temple, stunning the man.


Your arms wrapped around Hanzo’s middle as his body wavered, squeaking softly as you and Hanzo fell. Pulling him tight against your body, you were finally able to see the men that dared to attack the Shimada-gumi. There were five of them clustered around the door, the red oni tattooed on the side of their neck clearly indicating what faction they were from. Dogs from the Horikoshi-gumi. The Shimada and Horikoshi factions had been locked in a bloody battle, the latest fight taking out the second lieutenant from the Horikoshi gang. Last you heard though, was Hanzo and Ryota, their leader, had come to an agreement, a truce to end the bloodshed. Apparently his men hadn’t heeded the memo. The scrawny man in front leered at you, a wide grin breaking across his face, revealing a mouth full of golden teeth.

“You heard me boys, grab ‘em! Let’s take them downstair so we can put on a real show.”

It felt as if a nail had been driven through the left side of his head, Hanzo biting back the groan of pain that threatened to fall from his lips. The throbbing in his skull was only matched by thrum of heat beating in his arms, the dragons twisting and snarling, waiting to lash out for their master.

“Real shame you had to go and marry a Shimada. You’re real pretty. Sweet little thing like you would look real nice on my arm.”

“The only shameful thing right now is being touched by the likes of you”, you stated coldly, venom in your calmly spoken words.

Hanzo forced his eyes open, his lip curling up in a silent snarl of pain as light flooded his senses, lids fluttering until he could see clearly. His wrists had been bound together and he had been left in a kneeling position while unconscious. Hanzo barely tilted his face, assessing the room quickly before he lost the advantage of no one knowing he was awake. It appeared that they had dragged the both of you into the tea room, the size of the room comfortably seating the dozen or so men that appeared to have been stationed in there. Hanzo felt his stomach twist tight in both anger and worry as his eyes connected with you, his fists clenching tight as he resisted the urge to lash out.

Your face had settled into a stony mask, full lips drawn in a tight line of anger, eyes staring directly ahead at the wall. You sat in seiza, shoulders rolled back and head held high, back ramrod straight with your hands curled tightly in your lap. The right sleeve of your gown had been torn, your hair was disheveled and several strands hung in your face, your braid almost completely loosed. Despite the leering men around you and the precarious situation the two of you were in, you still gave off the aura of a perfect lady. Two men stood on either side of you, the man that had struck Hanzo before was walking back and forth in front of you.

“Think you’re so high and mighty don’t you bitch? You think we don’t know you were one of them little hostess sluts?”

“I may have been a hostess but I had class unlike you”, you scoffed, gaze still refusing to meet his. The man growled hand flying out and grabbing you by the hair, fingers tangling deep into your locks and yanking your head up.

“Get your hands off of her!”

The man’s hold on your hair slackened for a brief second before tightening, a manic titter lifting from his throat. Your eyes flew to Hanzo’s, the mask of fearless indifference cracking into unadulterated relief and abject distress as the man holding your hair shook you with a leering grin. Your lips pursed tight, refusing to reward the man with a cry of pain, a shameful blush burning across your cheeks as the cretin moved behind you and grabbed your throat with his free hand.

“Well good morning sunshine”, the man exclaimed, a sneer settling on his lips as he glared down at Hanzo. Chuckles followed from around the room, the low-ranking lackeys smirking wickedly at their eyes darted from their boss and you to the bound Hanzo. “Woke up just in time to see me play with your pretty little whore! If anything happens to her, it’s all on you buddy! Shouldn’t have fucked with us!”

Hanzo made a move to stand only to have two hands clap down on his shoulders and yank him back to the floor. Your eyes went round, struggling against the hold, a raucous laugh rising as the both of you protested the treatment of the other. A cry was finally wrested from your lips as you felt the hand of the man drag down from your throat, playing with the edge of your gown brusquely. Your eyes frantically locked with your husband, seeing the discernable rage in his gaze, his body struggling against the men before going completely still. His brow was furrowed, more in concentration now rather than anger as he stared at you, silently exuding calm your way. He was telling you to ‘focus on him’. You blinked several times, the tears that rested in your eyes rolling down your cheeks, as you gave a fraction of a nod to your head.

“Is this all of them”, Hanzo asked simply, ignoring the incredulous bark of laughter that bounced through the room.

“Y-yes”, you answered, your eyes darting around before looking back to your husband’s as realization began to dawn on you. A soft astonished laughed fell from your lips as the gangster yanked at your hair once more, earning yet another laugh from you.

“What the fuck is so funny?!”

“You and your men”, you started, voice slightly strained in pain as he tugged harder at your hair, confidence returning to your face. “You are foolish men who have made a grave error. You never corner a dragon.”

“Just what the fu–”

“Ryū ga waga teki wo kurau!”

You winced, not allowing your eyes to fully shut, as the room filled with bright, brilliant bursts of cyan light. Hanzo’s twin dragons burst forth from his arm, a deafening roar filling the small space as Yuuki and Ame tore their way through the men, circling around the room and hitting every target. The dragons, like their master, were thorough in their ferocity; ripping through the bodies of the men and completely disintegrating them with their magic energy. A reassured smiled tugged at your lips as the dragons reached you, the hand holding your hair finally releasing you and allowing you to drop back to the ground fully. It felt like a summer breeze was blowing around you, warm and soothing and peaceful, your own tattoo thrumming as the dragons danced around you briefly before surging back to their master. Your eyes fluttered open, briefly looking around the emptied before connecting with Hanzo.


You cried out for your husband, scrambling forward and hastily untying the ropes that bound his wrists. As soon as his arms were freed, you threw your arms around his neck, the man’s strong arms wrapping around you as he fell back onto his rear. Your hands shook as you pulled back slightly, finger touching the bruise to the side of his face gingerly a sympathetic whimper rumbling in your throat. Your fingers continued to dance over his skin, he doing the same to you in return, both of you worriedly examining one another. You flinched as you felt Hanzo’s hand graze the top of your negligee, gulping hard as your eyes locked back onto his anger darkened amber eyes.

“I was so scared”, you forced out, leaning forward to press your forehead against his, tears springing to your eyes. He pressed back, his hands lifting to hold either side of your face gently, thumbs rubbing in slow circles. “They hit you and you were out…and they dragged us down here and you weren’t moving Han. You weren’t moving…and they…they said…I could’ve lost you…”

“I am so sorry beloved”, he breathed out, tilting his head up and pressing a hard kiss to your lips to silence your anxious rambling, a soft sob falling against his lips. “I will never let them hurt you. I will never let anyone hurt you again. I will protect you til my dying breath.”

“No dying”, you corrected, your sob and laugh morphing together as you kissed him back hard.

Kissing him made everything feel better, your arms wrapping hard around his neck as you tried to press yourself closer to him. You needed to touch him, feel him and it seemed that the feeling was mutual, the both of you drawing consolation from one another. Hanzo’s hands pulled away from your face, trailing downwards in a soothing manner, thumbs lightly massaging at your throat then at your collarbone and shoulders before dropping to the neckline of your negligee. His touch was gentle, tender, pushing away the mental remnants of that cretin’s hands on you. You whined as he broke away from your lips, softly shushing you as he kissed the corner of your lips then your jaw and your jaw. He gently nudged your face with his nose, a silent query for permission that you quickly granted by tilting your head up for him. He kissed where the man’s hand had been so tightly wrapped around, drawing soft sighs from your lips before dipping lower.


Your hands tightened on his shoulder, in no way stopping the man but steadying yourself in his lap as his beard grazed the swell of your breast. He softly shooshed you again, hand coming up to run over your cheek before it moved to undo the button at the nap of your neck. The gown slackened slightly around your shoulders, Hanzo pausing to run his fingers over and through your hair, completely undoing your braid before his hands dragged back up to your shoulders. He pushed your nightgown down, your arms dropping, the soft, translucent fabric to pool at your waist. Soft sighs and whimpers of appreciation tumbled from your lips as his lips drew downwards, back arching as he captured one of your nipples in his mouth. Your hands dragged to the back of his head, pushing him closer, fingers tangling into his hair.

His touch, his lips, the soft words of endearment spoken against your skin drove away the fear of losing him, the thoughts of being touched by another. Your fingers scratched lightly at his scalp, his calloused hands running up and down your sides and over whichever breast wasn’t currently in his mouth. He lowered you gently to the floor, his mouth leaving your sensitive nub, eyes boring into yours lovingly. Gently cupping his cheek you smiled, other hand gently coaxing him back to your lips and kissing him earnestly. Heat was rolling lazily in your core, the emotional need to be coupled with your husband winning out over the physical demand for it.

“Please”, you breathed out as the both of you broke away, stars in your eyes as you looked at him. You peppered soft, adoring kisses to his lips through your words, unrushed, tender shows of affection and want. “Hanzo, please?”

He smiled at you, a rare expression that you hoarded greedily and proudly, his gaze soft yet hungry for you. He assented, nodding and gently nudging his forehead against yours, placing one more kiss against your lips. You loosed your hold around his neck as he pulled back, his hands pushing his silk night trousers and underwear down. Eyes dipping downward, you shivered as your eyes took in the sight of his thick cock, already dripping with precum. Hanzo’s hand lightly tilted your chin up, your eyes locking as he slowly crawled over your body. You laid back with him over you, shivering hard as his lips pressed into yours, whimpering softly as his hands pushed your gown up. The warmth of his hands made your skin tingle wherever they roamed, sighing needily as he gently massaged at your bare hips, spreading your legs for him as his hands dragged to your thighs.


You whined against his lips, back arching as his hand grinded insistently at your mound, fingers slowly rolling around your sensitive nub. He smiled against your lips, catching your moans as her rubbed your wet slit, fingers barely dipping into your core. Your arms wrapped tight around his neck, pulling him closer to you and whining piteously at his teasing motions.

“Han please”, you breathed against his lips as he dragged his hand over your clit once more, gently clawing at his shoulders.

“Of course beloved”, Hanzo murmured, pulling his hand away from your cunt before moving further your legs.

The both of you groaned as Hanzo lightly brushed his cock against your entrance, your hands tightening against his shoulders once more. Your breath hitched as he began to push into you, toes curling and hips rolling as the head slipped inside. Hanzo’s head fell to your shoulder as he set a steady, lazy pace, his lips and tongue pressing gently into the skin of your neck. There was no rush in either of your movements, hands falling to either side of your head, Hanzo’s hands intertwining with yours.

“You are mine”, he moaned against your skin as he nibbled at your pulse points. You gave a loan moan of agreement, nodding your head dazedly as he gave a slight snap of his hip. “Made just for me beloved. Only mine to touch, dearest. Mine to protect.”

His words were possessive but not aggressive, waves of pleasure lapping hungrily at your senses each time he spoke. The words were intimate, loving, his grinding hips and thrusts filled with a need to show you how much he needed you, cared for you. One of his hands released yours, his thrusts getting faster, sloppier as you tightened around him. Butterflies flew in your stomach their numbers expanding as his hands caressed your face tenderly, combing through your hair and moaning your name in such a sweet, loving voice.

“H-Hanzo”, you whimpered, body being carted towards.a.point of no return. Your mind was filled with thoughts of him, your darling husband, of his words and his caresses, of the sweet nothings the slurred together as he hungrily kissed and nipped at your skin. Nothing from earlier remained, only him and his affections and his cock coaxing you towards your edge. Your eyes slipped closed, fireworks dancing behind your lids as you came, Hanzo’s strokes picking up as he fell right along with you. You could feel the warmth of his seed fill you, your walls milking him hungrily, taking all of him in. All you could do was squeeze his hands tight, free hand wrapping around his neck to press him close and sobbing words of agreement to him. “Yours, all yours dear husband. Just for you. You just for me. Oh Hanzo I love you, I love you I love you.”

“I love you too my beloved wife”, he said through gentle kisses, body still shivering as he fell atop you, his weight a welcomed warmth.

It took several moment for the both of you to regain your bearings; Hanzo redressing you and himself, picking you up bridal style (despite your insistence you could walk) and laying you in the bed while telling you to sleep, that he would take care of the rest. You assented to him this time, only requiring one stipulation: that he stay until you fell asleep. And so he did, brushing your hair and face until you were lulled into dreamland comfortably.

jacenox  asked:

Do you know of any fics where stiles is the alpha of the pack while Derek is gone/not there. Stiles can be wolf, human or other. Sterek pairing please.

Here’s second in command!Stiles - Anastasia

Originally posted by dylanobriengirl

Don’t threaten the Hale pack by Bex_carma

(1/1 I 982 I Teen)

“Stiles stomach is coiled in anger. He knows that this alpha is a joke, that the pack snarling behind him is weak and cocky and disjointed, much like they were in the beginning, but he is still itching for blood, just because they have dared to challenge his family, his alpha.”

say it like you mean it, so this heart learns to trust by plaidcest

(1/1 I 1,651 I General)

After years of trial and error and taking care of teen wolves, Stiles was what you could call an expert on the subject.

torch song by spiekiel

(1/1 I 1,851 I Teen)

Stiles knows Derek likes herbal tea, and he thinks that it’s a ridiculous thing to like, but he brings it to him anyways. Derek has never been in so deep in his life. 

Intermission by Delta_Immortal

(1/1 I 10,855 I Explicit)

Somewhere there’s a legend about how the great Stiles Stilinski stole Alpha Derek Hale’s heart and helped Derek win the war against Kate Argent.

Somewhere there’s a legend about how the McCall pack rose to power, becoming the mightiest pack and aligning with banshees, foxes, and hunters to fight the terrible Alpha Pack.

This story lies between those legends, a peaceful time between two lovers as they enjoy the other’s embrace. (And cocks. There’s a lot of cock enjoyment.)

Stiles Stilinski and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day (Well Maybe It Wasn’t That Bad…) by thegirlgrey

(1/1 I 22,850 I Mature)

“Hey Derek? Are you absolutely sure that Beacon Hills isn’t sitting on a Hell Mouth?”

Pale Horses by Dark_K

(15/15 I 56,071 I Explicit)

Being bitten had never been on his to-do list, but he could deal with that. Helping Derek Hale become a competent Alpha, though, that was so not in his job description.

Aftershock by 74days

(22/22 I 79,226 I Mature)

Stiles knows something is up. Beacon Hills didn’t just turn into a war-zone overnight - and as far as he can see, its only getting worse. When a massive explosion rocks the town and people start showing up dead or… different, they know it’s time to put aside their differences and stop whatever is happening from ripping their town apart.
It’s not going to be easy, because they’ve got no idea what they are up against, and to make matters worse, they’ve got a new set of hunters of their trail.

anonymous asked:

hii guys, is the second in command tag ready for an update? If not maybe the human alpha stiles tag?? thanks <3

second in command is here!

Don’t threaten the Hale pack by Bex_carma (1/1 | 982 | PG13)

“Stiles stomach is coiled in anger. He knows that this alpha is a joke, that the pack snarling behind him is weak and cocky and disjointed, much like they were in the beginning, but he is still itching for blood, just because they have dared to challenge his family, his alpha.”

torch song by spiekiel (1/1 | 1,851 | PG13)

Stiles knows Derek likes herbal tea, and he thinks that it’s a ridiculous thing to like, but he brings it to him anyways. Derek has never been in so deep in his life.

say it like you mean it, so this heart learns to trust by plaidcest (1/1 | 1,651 | G)

After years of trial and error and taking care of teen wolves, Stiles was what you could call an expert on the subject.


Summary: You moved to Derry when you were 12 years old, and, to your luck, the monster that haunted the town was nowhere to be seen. However, he had been able to get a glimpse of you–proceeding in taking the chance to sneak into your dreams for the next five years. Until he opens his eyes, yours would stay closed too. And only to crimson dreams.

A/N: Feedback appreciated!

Words: 3.4 K +

Warning: Violence?

You sat in your bed, your focus blurry and your eyes heavy from the sleep that still lingered. Having gotten up and scrambled to make sure the map was still safely hidden in your nightstand, a part of you hoped it hadn’t been real. That you wouldn’t see any balloons, nor have any more dreams. But nevertheless, they persisted. After taking the crinkling paper between your fingertips, you then began to stare intently at the lines that led through the town. 

Keep reading


You watched as Shawn rubbed his hands together, in an attempt to warm them up as you walked through the near empty streets of the small city. “You cold?” he asked, looking back over his shoulder at you. You shook your head quickly, shoving your hands in your pockets. “But you’re shaking,” he said, stopping in his tracks. “I’m fine, really” you smiled, but as soon as he turned away the smile disappeared. You swallowed the lump which kept appearing in your throat, wanting to continue being strong like you had been all day. 
Shawn had taken you out for dinner, and you were walking back to his house under a bleak evening sky in October. Without intention, you walked a little behind Shawn who was in a hurry to get inside. “(Y/N), what’s wrong?” Shawn asked, stopping again. You shook your head, “No,” he said strongly. “Something’s up. Tell me.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek and looked down at your shoes as you fidgeted your feet. “Is it your period?” he asked softly. 
Since being on the pill, you hadn’t experienced a period. But two weeks ago, you had started bleeding heavily and it hadn’t stopped. He knew how worried and uncomfortable you had been, but he didn’t know that you had gone to the doctors to find out what was wrong that morning. You shook your head again, scrunching your face up as the tears automatically fell down your cold face. Shawn moved closer to you to comfort you, but you stuck your arm out and backed up. “No, don’t” you said, avoiding eye contact. “(Y/N) you’re really scaring me now,” Shawn said slowly. You looked up at him, and found him looking at you like you were some wild animal on the loose. 

You walked to the edge of the curb, and sat yourself down on the frosty pavement. You lowered your head and inhaled the bitter air before you spoke. 
“I went to the doctors this morning, to find out what was happening” your voice shook, not only because of the cold sensation you were suddenly feeling - but also because you felt vulnerable, about to confess something heartbreaking. 
You ran your tongue across your bottom lip, to compose the words in your mind carefully before you spoke. “I didn’t tell you this, and I don’t know why. But, I was pregnant” you felt like the air left your lungs as the words left your lips. 
From the corner of your eye you saw Shawn sit down beside you. “When did this happen?” He asked in a low tone, almost in a whisper. You swallowed another hard lump before replying, “That night at yours, when we had a whole bottle of vodka between us. Remember I was throwing up for ages before I passed out, well, I threw up the pill. And, then we…you know…without any protection. Then I fell ill and stupidly forgot to take the pill for the next few days” you shook your head at your stupidity. Shawns’ head dropped as he let out a heavy sigh. You placed the tip of your thumb between your teeth as you anxiously watched him through teary eyes, his hands on either side of his head.
“Wait,” Shawn said as his head snapped up, his hands moving under his chin. “What do you mean was pregnant?” His eyes were already dark, but they looked lost when they looked back at you. You bit harder into your thumb, wanting to hold the tears back. 

You couldn’t handle it, you couldn’t do this. You pushed yourself up from the pavement and started to stride down the road. “Hey, (Y/N)” Shawn shouted as he tried to catch up. He grabbed your wrist, but you pulled away. He grabbed it again, this time with a lot more strength, too much for your weak body to compete with. He pulled on your arm, forcing you to stop. “(Y/N)” he gasped, breathing heavily. You closed your eyes, still facing away from him. You couldn’t bring yourself to drop the same news that had been told to you hours earlier, knowing Shawn would crush from the weight too. He hadn’t known you were pregnant, but you knew that children was a sensitive subject for him. 
Your head feeling light, you turned round and faced him. You nodded to yourself, smacking your lips together before you finally spoke. “I lost it,” you barely said, looking him dead in the eye as they grew even darker. He blinked slowly a couple of times as he absorbed the truth and lowered his arm, letting yours fall back to your side. “I know we didn’t even plan it or even want children right now,” you found yourself saying. “And it was just a month old, so not even looking like a proper baby” you shrugged your shoulders, tears streaming down your face again. “But, it was still something living inside of me Shawn. And, my body failed. I failed, I failed at keeping it alive.” You closed your eyes to force the tears out, telling not only Shawn, but yourself how you truly felt. The words that had been swimming in your mind all day, ever since you had found out. You let out a groan, collapsing to your knees as you finally let out the pain you had been keeping hidden. 
You looked up from the ground at the noise of footsteps, and watched as Shawn walked away from you. Your body curled in again, feeling lost and alone. You made your cries heard, not giving a shit about anyone who happened to be passing by. For the past two weeks, a baby, your baby had been dying inside of you and every time you went to the bathroom, or felt a horrible cramp - they were just reminders that your dead child was passing through you. You punched your fist into your stomach, letting out your anger. 

“Hey, don’t do that. Don’t hurt yourself,” Shawn said softly. You looked up to see Shawn crouched down in front of you, blinking his eyes repeatedly as the tears poured out. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” you said quickly, before Shawn grabbed your head and moved it closer to his lips, placing a long kiss against it. He gasped for air, and wiped the tears from his cheeks. His face was red, his eyes swollen and his lips were puffy. “We don’t know why this happened,” he said, looking you in the eyes. “But, life can do terrible things.” You nodded, scrunching your face as you felt the pain burst through your body all over again. 

“You are the best thing that has ever happened to me (Y/N),” he admitted, showing a faint smile. He took one of your hands and kissed it repeatedly, before a smile appeared on your face. He then placed his hand between your faces, holding a single stem of lavender. “I know it’s not a bouquet of the most exotic flower on the planet, but it’s in memory of our little bean,” he said bravely, his familiar smile spreading across his face. You took the flower from his fingers and held it delicately in yours. Shawn stood up and held his hands out for you. When you finally rose and inhaled deeply, he lowered himself, with his hands on your waist before he pressed his face against your belly - kissing against the fabric of your top. Your hand clasped over your mouth, trying to top yourself from crying out loud. Shawn stood again, close to your body. “I love you,” he said as his thumb stroked your cheekbone. You nodded, “I love you too” you said wearily before kissing his swollen lips. 

Little Love

Originally posted by jevislanuit

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: For the seven months following your breakup, you’ve kept your pregnancy a secret from Spencer, unsure of how he would react. But when the two of you are unexpectedly forced to see each other again, it doesn’t take long for your growing secret to reveal itself. Requested by a lovely anon!

Word count: 1,955

A/N: This is based around season 6 and 7, so there may be some spoilers if you haven’t seen those seaons yet. Other than that, I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

For the first time in three hours, a calm silence had fallen over your apartment.

The fraying copy of “Goodnight Moon” that Henry had picked out was long forgotten as his blue eyes finally gave into the sleep that he had been fighting for so long.

Reveling in your ability to lull the rambunctious toddler to sleep, you placed a gentle kiss on his forehead before carefully removing yourself from the guest bed where he lay — all the while making a mental note to give JJ kudos on how she manages to do it every single night.

Leaving the bedroom door open just a crack, you took a moment to enjoy the still of the atmosphere and out of habit, placed a hand on your ever-growing baby bump.

All night long you had found yourself laughing right along with every little giggle that Henry exuded, and adoring the many colorful drawings that he had created for your refrigerator door. The seemingly permanent smile you wore was in part due to the inherent joy that came with babysitting Henry, and the other half due to the thought that one day, you would be going through the exact same motions with your own child.

But yet, with every bright vision of the future you had, came with it a storm of anxious thoughts.

Seven months ago, the home you had built within the bounds of Spencer’s love began to crumble.

With his rising panic of developing schizophrenia and then the grief he was overcome with after the death of Emily, you watched in agony as Spencer did his best to conceal the crumbling state of his mind from you. It wasn’t until one night, when the demons of his mind became too much to bear, that he confessed to you his contemplation of relapsing. That night ended in heartache, as Spencer’s broken voice ended your relationship, only wanting to protect you from the danger he believed to potentially possess.

But unbeknownst to either you or Spencer at the time, you were not the only ones left in the wake of your fallen love.

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“Good Enough” - (Alec Lightwood)

Originally posted by nephilimdaily

(not my gif)

REQUEST: Alec and (Y/N) go on a mission with Raphael and the vampire starts flirting with (Y/N). Then Alec becomes really jealous and agressive but at the end he makes sure that (Y/N) only loves him.

Alec grabbed his bow and arrows and handed a seraph blade to (Y/N).
“Here, take this.”
“No, I’m good, I already have my knives.” (Y/N) waved away the seraph blade but Alec insisted.
“Take it. The more weapons you have, the less chance you have to get hurt.” He said.
(Y/N) sighed and grabbed the angelic blade, she knew Alec was not gonna give up, he could be pretty stubborn.
“You know it’s not my first mission, right?” (Y/N) laughed.
“I know, so let’s make sure it won’t be your last.” Alec said and walked out of the Institute. (Y/N) rolled her eyes and followed the older Lightwood outside. She knew why he was nervous and mad, Raphael was helping them on this mission because he knew more informations than (Y/N) and Alec. But Raphael was a vampire, and Alec hated vampires except maybe from one, Simon. Simon was a vampire now, but for Alec, Simon was still Simon, the annoying and too chatty mundane.

(Y/N) and Alec met up with Raphael in a dark alley, where a Seelie was found dead the day before. Alec was standing surprisingly close to (Y/N).
“So, what do you know about the Seelie’s death, bloodsucker?” Alec crossed his arms over his chest.
“Don’t be such in a hurry, shadowhunter. You didn’t even introduce me to your lovely friend here.” Raphael said and pushed Alec aside. The vampire grabbed (Y/N)’s hand and kissed it gently.
“Hello pretty doll, what’s your little name?”
“(Y/N).” She laughed. Raphael was trying too hard but (Y/N) found it funny. Alec didn’t look very amused, though.
“Can we focus on the mission, here?” He said.
(Y/N) could tell he was annoyed, though she didn’t know if it was because of Raphael being here or because of Raphael flirting with (Y/N). But Alec had no reason to be jealous, (Y/N) thought, Alec and her were just friends, looking out for each other.
“Sure, I’ll tell you everything I know.” Raphael looked at (Y/N). “Especially to someone who owns so much beauty.” Raphael winked and (Y/N) smiled, but her smile disappeared when she saw Alec clenched his fists.
“OK, you know what Raphael? Alec and I need to go back to the Institute, I just remembered of something. We’ll call you, alright?” (Y/N) said as she put a hand on Alec’s shoulder to hold him back if he decided to put his fist in Raphael’s face for a reason (Y/N) ignored.
“I’ll be happy to give you my number if you walk with me back to my place. I’ll even show you my room.” The vampire stroke (Y/N)’s cheek and winked again.

Suddenly, Alec grabbed Raphael by the collar and pinned him against the wall. Alec moved so fast, (Y/N) didn’t even have time to react.
“Don’t touch her.” Alec spat, holding Raphael’s collar so tight his knuckles turned white. Raphael laughed.
“Alec!” (Y/N) ran towards Alec and tried to pull him away from the vampire.
“Don’t ever put your hands on her again, do you hear me?” Alec shouted.
“Or what? You’re gonna kill me, shadowhunter? Oh wait, you can’t, I’m already dead.” Raphael smiled before Alec violently punched him in the face.
“Alec! Stop!” (Y/N) shouted, dragging Alec away from the vampire, but he was too strong. 

Then, Alec moved to punch Raphael again, but the vampire moved faster than Alec this time and Alec’s fist hit the wall instead of Raphael’s face. The vampire smiled and punched Alec in the stomach. (Y/N) felt anger burning through her veins, she couldn’t handle watching someone hurt Alec, she cared way too much about him. She grabbed Raphael by the shoulders and stood between the two boys.
“Enough! Both of you!” She shouted. “Go home, Raphael. Just walk away before I kick your ass.” (Y/N) said, angry.
Raphael didn’t say anything and left the dark alley.

(Y/N) turned around to look at Alec. His hand was bleeding but he didn’t seem to care about the pain, his hazel eyes were lost in (Y/N)’s.
“That was beyond stupid.” (Y/N) said, her voice was cold.
Alec never acted like that before, he was usually the kind and smart one and that’s why (Y/N) liked him so much. But he looked so angry and out of control when Raphael flirted with (Y/N) that she was almost frightened by his behavior.
(Y/N) started to walk away from Alec to head back to the Institute but he ran after her.
“(Y/N), wait!” Alec gently grabbed (Y/N)’s arm so she would stop walking away from him. “I’m sorry.” He added.
“I don’t get it. Why would you even act like this?” (Y/N) shouted.
“He was flirting with you, I had to do something!” Alec shouted back.
“No, you didn’t! I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself!”
“He just wanted you in his bed!” Alec’s face was red with anger.
“So what? I never would’ve slept with him, I’m not stupid!” 

Alec sighed and looked down.
“I’m sorry. I was scared I was gonna lose you, that’s all.” Alec murmured. (Y/N) frowned.
“Why would you think that?” (Y/N) asked the older Lightwood. Alec looked at (Y/N) again, his eyes were only focused on (Y/N).
“Because.” He paused and started to talk really fast. “Because I love you. And I’m scared I’m not good enough, I’m scared you’re gonna find someone else, someone better than me. And I don’t want to lose you, because I need you. So when Raphael started flirting with you, I lost control because I didn’t want you to go with him, and-”
Alec was suddenly cut off. His eyes widened as he realised what was going on. (Y/N) kissed him. She was gently pressing her lips on his and it didn’t feel awkward, actually, it felt good, it felt right. Alec kissed her back and pulled her closer to him.
Then, (Y/N) pulled away from the kiss and looked at Alec.
“You’re not gonna lose me, Alec.” (Y/N) said, locking her eyes on Alec’s. “Because no one will ever be better than you.”
Alec smiled and kissed (Y/N) again, just like he has been dreaming of for months.

Landslide: Part Four (ending)


Dayton White (Logan Lucky) x Reader

When a tragic accident happens in the heart of your hometown - you’re forced to go back to the countryside you’d sworn to forget. In the midst of your world turning upside down you find yourself in a state of panic when the familiar face returns in your life, Dayton White. From the time you were young he was labeled in your mind as the man who got under your skin, with the past brimming to the surface - will you be able to fight off the landslide of love?

Word count: 5,279 (long I know…hahahah)

Notes: Cursing, Tension, SO. MUCH. FLUFF.

Let me know what you think! :) 

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but i’ll never give up you

requested by anonymous

au in which someone is rude to isak and even gets protective 

tw for homophobia

Sometimes, Isak is able to forget that there are people who hate him simply for loving Even. Not because of who Even is, or because of anything he’s done, but because Even is a boy. Sometimes, he’s able to forget that there are people who want him gone because of it.

But there are always reminders. It’s the world he lives in, and while he might be able to forget once in a while, there is always something-or someone-to bring him back to reality.

He’s standing in the cereal aisle at the store, trying to decide between cereal as Even scans the list behind him, leaning into the cart. Even is likely not reading the list at all, and actually considering riding the cart down the aisle, something he’s almost gotten them banned from them from the store from doing before.

Isak grabs a box and sets it in the cart, bumping Even’s hip with his to nudge him out of the way so that he can grab onto the cart handles.

“What are we missing?” He asks, peering around Even to look at the messily scrawled list.

“Lunch meat and bread. But I was thinking…”

Isak narrows his eyes, looking up at his boyfriend who has a sly smile, lip pulled between his teeth.

Keep reading

Creepypasta #1169: Too Human

Length: Short

Thomas stared at the monitor, studying every movement it made. It was perfect in every way. Each mannerism, sound, even the way it breathed; it was the perfect android. Chills shot through him as he saw his reflection in the monitor. He had effectively cloned himself.

Every day he watched it live his life. It did everything he would do, day in day out. It played with his children, went to work in the laboratory, even slept in the same bed as his wife. No one was the wiser.

As the days drug on, unease swelled in him. He had become the watcher; like a viewer watching a reality show. He had become distant, and this thing was closer to his family than he could remember. Soon he felt sick every time he turned to the monitors.

One morning he waited patiently in the lab, hidden behind several shelves. The door cracked open, and in came him. Seeing it close made his stomach turn. His sickness became anger, and rage filled him. As it sat he quietly stepped out from behind the shelves. His hands trembled as he raised a revolver, slowly pacing towards the back of it.

Two steps away, he clicked the hammer back. His clone turned to the noise, and its eyes widened as Thomas aimed the gun.

“How?” The android stammered.

Still shaking, Thomas exhaled and squeezed the trigger. After the bang, it crumpled in the chair, and slid to the ground like a rag doll.

The large amount of blood surprised Thomas, but he cleaned it up. He took his time, and prepared the android to be disposed. He drove home still shaking, pulling over several times feeling he had to vomit.

Back home, he chopped carrots while his kids and wife prepared the dining room. With a shaky knife, he managed to cut his thumb terribly. He wrapped his thumb in a towel, and rushed to the bathroom.

“Everything OK?” His wife asked through the dining room. 

He unwrapped his thumb under rushing water, and noticed the towel held little blood. He pinched the wound, and opened the slice inspecting it. He noticed something thin, like frayed hair, poking out. He tugged on it, and with it came a tangle of more hair. He peered closer, and noticed they weren’t hairs; they were wires.

“Everything is fine, honey.” He tucked the wires in, and sealed the wound with a Band-Aid.

He would need to dispose of the body soon.

Credits to: lemonbrownz

Return (Pt. 2)

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Summary:  (Loki Imagine: Imagine Thanos targeting Loki’s lover to punish him for his failure to get the Tesseract.) Taken from tumblr. Thor finds you during an intense mission with the Avengers. After disobeying Steve’s orders and saving you, Thor is cornered. Who are you? What were you doing there? How did Thor know you? Knowing he has to answer all of these questions, Thor explains everything.

Words: 3546

Tag: @mashed-fandom-imagines @oxodianaoxo

Read on Ao3:

Thor had watched his brother for what seemed like hours sit there in that room with her. The machine beeped, noting that Loki’s fiancé, (Y/N), was still alive. Thor couldn’t see Loki, but he could see his back jolting up and down from all the sobbing he was doing. The whole thing was confusing and painful for Thor as well. Thor had no romantic feelings, but he loved her. He loved his almost little sister as much as he loved Loki. Thor wanted to put the blame on Loki. It would be so easy to put the blame on him. Thor blamed Loki for almost everything else, but deep down inside Thor blamed himself. The memory flashed back to him.

“My lord!” one of Odin’s best came running to him. Thor turned around confused. He was having an okay day. What could be wrong?

“What is the meaning of this?” Odin demanded.

“Heimdall spotted him! It’s Loki! He’s alive! He’s on Midgard and—

“Stop,” Odin simply said as he held his hand up. “Loki is dead and has been for a while.”

“My lord, I assure you, this is no trick. Heimdall sent me here myself,” the soldier explained. “You must leave. Heimdall is expecting you.” Odin rose from his throne, and looked at Thor. Odin said nothing, but he gave a disgusted and angry face. Thor nodded. They were leaving for the Bifrost immediately.

Thor followed his unhappy father in pursuit. Dozens of questions came up in his head. How did he survive? Why was he on Midgard? Was he hurt? Should Frigga know? Should (Y/N) know? He let himself contemplate on that question. Truly, she should be the first to know, but he couldn’t even bring himself to visit her anymore. Every time he saw (Y/N) he felt like he has to apologize for what happened. Loki’s death wasn’t so easy on him, and (Y/N) brought back those awful feelings. Thor snapped back to what was happening around him. People were rushing around preparing for what might happen.

“He’s going to come back here isn’t he?” Thor heard a servant say. “He’s going to come back and hurt us.”

“Don’t say that,” Thor interjected. “He’s only been spotted. Don’t go there. He’s not coming here. He will not hurt any of us.” Thor felt an anger course through him. It’s been so long, and people still speak so low of his brother. Leaving the panicked servants behind, Thor rushed to Heimdall along with everyone else who mattered.. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw (Y/N). She looked stressed and exhausted. The ends of her hair were dead. Dark circles were underneath her eyes. She held onto Sif, her best friend, for support. He wanted to say something to her. Her parents had been weary of letting her out into the public. She was often ridiculed everywhere she went. ‘Traitor Queen’ and ‘Loki’s Whore’ were among the kinder words that people said to her. As a result, (Y/N) had stopped her visits to the palace and she no longer attended the balls or events. She stayed at home where she could find some peace.

“Yes, my lord, I did see him,” Heimdall said, snapping Thor out of his personal thoughts again. “He’s very much alive. He seems to be preparing for something.”

“Preparing for something? For what?” Odin asked.

“I’m not sure. Loki always knew how to hide from me. However, I don’t think he is working alone. He seemed to be communicating to something.” Heimdall said. This was serious.

“Father, let me bring him home,” Thor volunteered.

“Bring Loki back here?” Odin asked with a chuckle. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Odin!” Frigga called out. “He’s still my son. Bringing Loki back home is what is best for him, for Midgard, and for us.” Things between Frigga and Odin hadn’t been the same after Loki’s “death”. There was tension between them.

“Father, please, let me bring him home before he does something horrible,” Thor pleaded. He glanced back at (Y/N) who was staring at Odin, hoping for an answer. Silence filled the room for a few moments as Odin thought to himself.

“My lord, I do not mean to interrupt you, but I implore you to not wait on this decision. You must act now. Loki acts fast.”

“Fine,” Odin frowned. “You go to Midgard, and bring him back here before something happens. Understand me?” Thor nodded. Thor went to his mother.

“Mother, I—

“You do not need to say anything to me,” Frigga said to her son. “I have faith in you. Tell him how much he is missed, how much he is loved, and how much we need him.”

“Could you give this to him?” (Y/N) asked Thor. Surprised by her voice, Thor took the token from her hand. It was (Y/N)’s engagement ring on a silver chain. She still wore it. She still loved him.

“It will be the first thing I give him, I promise you, (Y/N),” Thor said and he kissed her on her head. “I will make this right.” Then Thor left. A sense of purpose clouded his mind. Thor did not have communication with Asgard from the weakness of the Bifrost, but he did his best to fulfill the tasks he was told to do. After the devastating events of New York, Thor took his brother home to face trial. Odin felt proud of Thor, bringing his brother home to face true justice. Thor felt awful because Loki he knew was gone. Loki was taken away in chains, and Thor walked off to find his mother, or the Warriors Three, or (Y/N). He needed someone to know how it all went down. He came upon his mother’s garden to find his mother comforting Sif. Sif was sobbing with her head in her hands. Thor rushed over.

“Mother? Sif? Sif, what’s wrong?” Thor asked.

“Thor, you’re back. We heard an hour ago that you were here,” his mother tried to keep a smile on her face. “I must apologize that we were not there to greet you and Loki.”

“DAMN LOKI!” Sif screamed out. “This is his fault! This is all his fault!”

“Sif, stop,” Thor grabbed her wrists gently. “Yes, many died in New York, but you must not feel bad for the mortals. Loki will be brought to justice.” Sif looked up at Thor. Her eyes were red and puffy. She had been crying for a while.

“No, Thor,” Sif explained. “It is not New York I cry for.”

“Then what?”

“It’s (Y/N).” Thor felt his stomach drop.

“No, please tell me she didn’t. Mother visited her every week. You saw her every day. You even told me yourself that she was getting better. She wouldn’t.”

“No, you misunderstand me. (Y/N) did not kill herself. She was taken.”


“These men. They claimed that Loki had failed to complete his mission. They were taking her as punishment. Heimdall was right. Loki wasn’t working alone. Loki was working for someone else, and now (Y/N) faces the consequences.” Sif broke down again.

“I don’t understand,” Thor looked to his mother. “I was only gone for a couple of days. When did this happen?”

“Last night,” Frigga said. “It came out of nowhere. No one was there to protect her.” His mother’s words hit him hard. No one was there to protect her. Thor wasn’t here to protect his sister. His heart dropped into his stomach. Thor had no anger inside of him left to be angry about this. He was exhausted from the past couple of days. Resentment against his brother boiled inside of him, but that was then. This was now. Thor watched his brother’s movements in the hospital room. Any resentment Thor had towards his brother was gone. Loki had suffered enough.

“Thor,” Natasha approached him from behind. “I hate to do this, but our doctors need to look her over. Loki needs to leave her for right now.” Thor turned his head towards her.

“You do realize you are asking a big task,” Thor said. “That’s like taking a starved horse away from sweet apples.”

“It would only be for an hour. Maybe less,” Natasha said. Thor got up from his seat, and headed towards the room.

“If things go astray, please don’t hurt him. He’s already hurting,” Thor said.

“I can’t make any promises,” Natasha said as she turned and walked away.
Thor walked into the room quietly. Loki’s hands were on (Y/N), gripping her body. Loki and (Y/N) looked exactly the opposite from the other. (Y/N)’s hair was spread out onto the pillow. Her eyes were closed and she looked absolutely peaceful. The only concerning thing was the IVs attached to her, and how her skin was still slightly cold despite being in a temperature controlled environment. Loki’s hair was a mess. Knots and ends were everywhere from him constantly tugging and pulling at it. His tears leaked onto her blankets. His eyes were half open and red. His skin was too warm from the anxiety that pumped through him. Loki did not even bother putting up an illusion; he was too exhausted.


“Please leave,” Loki said. “I want to be alone.” Thor closed his eyes and took a breath. He knew this was going to be hard.

“Loki, their doctors need to take a look at her,” Thor said calmly. Loki rose his head. Strands of his black hair fell in front of his face.

“No,” Loki said, almost hissing.


“I said no. You clearly heard me,” Loki went on. “These are mortals. Mere, stupid mortals. They cannot do anything for her.” Loki’s grip on her body grew tighter. Blankets scrunching up in his hands.

“Loki, they are human and they are more intelligent than you realize. They can help her.” Thor was trying. Loki stood up and leaned forward across the hospital bed. His body was over hers.

“I almost ruled them all in a matter of days. Humans are a fragile race. I do not trust them especially with her care. She is coming back to Asgard with me where she can be helped.” Loki explained.

“You’re not going anywhere. She is not going anywhere,” Thor put his foot down. Loki narrowed his eyes.

“What makes you think you can tell me what to do? Who do you think you are?” Loki hissed. Thor raised his hands.

“Do you not realize where you are? What you are doing? I am trying to help you. I want to be on your side,” Thor explained to Loki. “For once, will you let me handle this and trust me?”

“She is my…” Loki trailed off. He knew what he was going to say, but he couldn’t finish it. It made him angry, and he let Thor see it.

“I know. If I send her back to Asgard, you will not be able to see her. She will be healed with our people, and she will be sent away, Loki. You are serving a sentence here. If I send her back, her parents can and will take her away from you. They will force her to marry someone else. She will live with him. She will be loved by him. She will mother his children. Do you understand?” The cogs started to work inside Loki’s mind. Loki stood up straight, no longer covering her body.

“How do I know if I leave her now that I will see her again?” Loki asked Thor.

“You will. I promise,” Thor replied. “Trust me.” Loki looked back at her face. He let his finger touch her hair once more.

“What happens now?” Loki asked, not taking his eyes away from her.

“You’re coming with me. Their doctors will look at her and try to determine what to do with my help. You will be going back to your holding cell.” Thor explained. Loki shook his head.

“No. I have a right to know where you found her. I want the details of the mission,” Loki still did not look at Thor.

“I don’t think you—

“I still have my powers, brother. I can hurt your loved ones too, especially your lady. Jane is it? Shipped her off to London so I couldn’t get to her?” Loki slowly looked at his brother. Loki knew which words to say to put a chill down Thor’s back. He did have the complete right to know, but the complicated part is whether anyone else would understand.

Loki left with Thor escorting him back to the cell. None of them wished to say anything. Thor was still emotionally tired and stressed with keeping his word. Loki was feeling relieved. (Y/N) was alive and on Midgard. Two things he never expected. He remembered the dread when he found out her kidnapping.

“Frigga is the only reason you are still alive and you will never see her again,” Odin said coolly in the throne room for everyone to hear. There wasn’t much. Just Loki, two guards holding him in chains, and the Queen and King of Asgard themselves. Odin needed to keep this a private matter. Having a public trial of his “adopted” son was out of the question.

“What of (Y/N)? You told me yourself that you would put her on that throne if she were your daughter,” Loki wanted to hit him hard with words. “You value her intelligence, her temperament, and her kind heart. Are you telling me now that (Y/N) has no value here? Is that why she isn’t here? You don’t trust her?”

“(Y/N) is not here because she is gone,” Odin stated. Loki controlled his anger up until now.

“You banished her? Because of me?” Loki laughed. “You truly are an old oaf. (Y/N) may have been my queen, but she had no idea about any of this. I did this on my own.”

“Did you?” Odin almost laughed. Loki narrowed his eyes and shook his head.

“You banished your only hope for this realm. She would have made a better king than you.”

“I did not banish her, Loki,” Odin immediately shot back. Thor entered the throne room, but no one noticed. The tension between Loki and Odin was the main attraction. Thor feared he may have been too late. He would have been here earlier had it not been for Sif.

“Then where is she? Why is my wife not here? What did you do to her?” Loki’s anger rose with every question he threw at Odin. Then it hit Thor. Loki doesn’t know. Everyone in Asgard heard of her kidnapping last night except for Loki. Out of the corner of his eyes, Thor saw his father smile wickedly. He knew his father could be awful, but this was too much. Loki didn’t deserve this. No one did.

“You were never married to (Y/N). She is not your wife. I did not do anything to her. She’s gone and it is all your fault.” Odin was enjoying this. “Last night, there were men who invaded Asgard.”

“Fools invade Asgard all the time. What does any of this have to do with (Y/N)?” Loki shot back. “You’re avoiding my question.”

“They weren’t from any of the realms we knew. They came here and they took (Y/N) in the middle of the night. When my soldiers heard of this, it was too late. They only saw the lights of the ship leaving. Her parents are with Eir, safe and sound, but (Y/N) is gone.” Odin smiled more. He wanted to twist the knife.

“Someone took her?” Loki said, not believing a word Odin says. “Let me guess, they did not leave a single piece of evidence did they?”

“Oh, but they did,” Odin said. Thor looked back at his father. No one told him there was evidence or even a lead to who she was with. Thor looked back at Loki who still held an apathetic face. Then, Thor looked at his mother. She looked beautiful as always. Her long hair and gown flowing, but her eyes held serious tears.

“He left us a note.”

“He? Who’s he?” Loki asked.

“Your friend, Thanos.” Loki froze in his spot. His apathetic face dropped and it was replaced with a shivering fear. Odin smiled, finally getting the reaction he wanted. “He knows you failed him. So, he took action. I believe his note said, ‘She will suffer due to your incompetence.’” Loki’s face went completely pale. It left his mouth partially open, but he could not breathe. Loki did not twitch or shake. He did not move. For the first time in Thor’s life, he saw his brother terrified. Thor watched as Loki’s body dropped to the floor, and all of the chains followed in pursuit. They clanged on the ground as if they couldn’t hold Loki anymore. Loki couldn’t hold himself up anymore.

“You will spend the rest of your days in the dungeons.” Odin said. The guards tugged onto his chains, almost dragging Loki away. His feet dragged across the smooth marble court floor. What did it matter if he was in the dungeons? Loki would rather take the ax. Many thoughts clouded his thinking. The worst one kept repeating itself over and over again.

This is your fault.

That thought followed him through his short time in the dungeons and then onto Midgard. Loki went into his holding cell at Stark Tower reluctantly. There were too many questions unanswered. He knew he had a right to know all of them. Where was she? What happened on that mission? Where has she been this entire time? Loki grabbed onto his neck and the silver chain with (Y/N)’s ring appeared in his hand. He grabbed it and looked at it closely. (Y/N) was never a diamond lady. She always preferred emeralds even before him. Green was her favorite color, and green was their color. So, it only made sense that her ring was a bright emerald with smaller lighter ones around it. He remembered how she would twist the ring around her finger whenever she was thinking deeply. He cast the illusion in front of him.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked the illusion. (Y/N) was turned away from him. Her hair was loose and she was wearing her favorite green dress. The (Y/N) illusion did not respond to him, so he asked again.

“(Y/N)? What are you thinking about?” Loki smiled to himself. He walked closer to the illusion. The illusion was still very quiet, but it was moving around like a ghost. Slowly and quietly walking around minding its own business. Loki followed the illusion, and allowed it to go deeper. Soon, Loki and the (Y/N) illusion were no longer in the cell, but in Loki’s bedroom. Green and gold were everywhere. From the curtains to the floor, everything was extravagant and regal. Loki was used to the familiarity of it all, but (Y/N) not talking to him was off. (Y/N) loved to talk to him, especially about ideas and opinions. Loki could spend all day listening to what she thought of books he hated. It didn’t matter what the subject was, he just loved her mind and the endless thoughts she had.

“(Y/N)?” he called out. The illusion still did not speak, but walked out onto the balcony. The skies were gray and a storm was rolling in. The illusion walked to the balcony railing, and placed her hands there.

“Why did you do it?” the (Y/N) illusion asked.

“Do what, little dove?” Loki smiled. He was worried for a moment there. The illusion turned around to Loki, revealing her half-frozen face. Ice crystals froze her left side and tinged her skin blue like a frost giant.

“Look what he did to me.” The (Y/N) illusion said. “I’m so cold, Loki.” Horrified, Loki took a step back.

“(Y/N), its going to be okay. We-we’re going to be fine.”

“Why did you attack New York?”

“I was going to rule them, (Y/N). I was going to make you a proper queen.”

“Lies,” the (Y/N) illusion said lowly. “You were only thinking of yourself. You only want power.”

“That’s not true,” Loki said. “I want you. I need you.” The (Y/N) illusion turned away, and started to climb on the rail.

“More lies. You keep lying to me and yourself when you know the only mistress you love is power,” the illusion stood on the railing. Loki’s eyes went wide. His illusions never did this.

“What are you doing? Get down, dove,” Loki said.

“You left me here to cry and rot and freeze!” the (Y/N) illusion cried out.

“No, I didn’t.”

“You did,” the illusion started to cry. Tears came down her right side of her face. Loki walked over to the railing. He tried to grab her, but the illusion disappeared so quickly.

“(Y/N)” Loki screamed out from his cell. As Loki screamed, a vibration went through the pipes all the way back to the temperature controlled room where (Y/N) sat up in the hospital bed as if she had just woken up from a bad dream. (Y/N) rubbed her eyes and saw the IVs in her arm and Thor outside her room speaking to someone she recognized.

“Thor?” (Y/N) said.

How do you get the words of people out of your head? How do you not believe those hurtful words towards you? How do you get the anger and ugly feeling out of the pit of your stomach? The feeling that they won cause you didn’t say anything back to defend yourself. Does this mean that they win and they’re right? Cause it really feels like it. How do you make yourself feel like you’re the winner?
—  Posted by Anonymous.
BabyDaddy!Cal Pt.7

 A/N: Helloooo! I think I’m officially over my writer’s block because this chapter was a breeze to write. I have nothing to say this time, but thank you all for the kind feedback, I really appreciate it. As you know by now 100 notes for the next chapter and feedback is always welcome. I hope you enjoy, cupcakes

**WARNINGS**: Nothing but excessive cussing

Parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty{END}

You were walking down the street, casually eating an ice cream cone and enjoying the bliss of being on your own. You haven’t been out by yourself since you arrived on this tour and since you were in the beautiful state that was Florida, you felt relieved that this was the one time they were all asleep. You were already prepared for the hell the four boys would raise when they woke up, turning your phone up at the maximum volume in case they called or texted. You had entered a small boutique, knowing for a fact that you couldn’t fit anything in the store at this point, but you were thinking more of Connor and Felix. They both had been telling you to bring them something back from every city you went to, so you had bought them both shirts from every city. Every now and then you’d find something a little more masculine for Felix, but it usually came down to a shirt. As you were flicking through the tie dye material for Connor, you were approached by a few fans with huge grins on their faces.

“Oh my God, you’re Calum Hood’s girlfriend right?”

Keep reading

heyitsmotownmcb  asked:

Hello :) I was wondering if there were any new second in command Stiles fics out there?? Thanks!

heyy man

Don’t threaten the Hale pack by Bex_carma (1/1 | 982 | PG13)

“Stiles stomach is coiled in anger. He knows that this alpha is a joke, that the pack snarling behind him is weak and cocky and disjointed, much like they were in the beginning, but he is still itching for blood, just because they have dared to challenge his family, his alpha.”

Through my eyes by TheBiPenguin (4/4 | 6,386 | PG13)

Stiles finally got control of his magic and became Derek’s alpha mate and second in command. After rebuilding the Hale house, they moved their new pack in and have been without incident for a few months now. Most supernatural events these days are more inconveniences than serious threats…much like this one.

The One You Feed by sterekargent (20/20 | 43,155 | NC17)

Based on a Sterek AU by bilesandthesourwolf because lots of people were asking for a fic and I loved it so much that I was inspired enough to write it. You can also watch the trailer here -

In a world were human’s are now an endangered species and werewolves have taken over, a resistance is forming. When Peter Hale, a high ranking general in one of the most powerful werewolf packs, learns of the resistance, he sends his nephew, Derek, to infiltrate their camp and bring them down from within. Derek is more than up to the task, ready to prove himself to his uncle and their pack. What Derek wasn’t expecting was to grow to admire the resilience of the humans and their will to fight and live; he definitely wasn’t expecting to fall for their second in command - the loud, obnoxious, sarcastic, smart, witty Stiles Stilinski or that Stiles might just return his affection. What will happen when Stiles discovers Derek is the very creature he’s been raised to hate? Will Derek betray his own pack to save the human he was never supposed to care for? Could their love be the very thing so desperately needed to bring together two warring factions and end a decades old feud?